This is just based off of a writing prompt I saw on Pinterest "Write a scene after a tragedy but don't tell the tragedy." This came to my mind almost instantly but I do believe this tragedy is a bit obvious.
Enjoy!
But this is sad
This can't be happening.
Oliver Queen stormed through the double doors making then hit the walls forcefully. He tore the blue papery gown and hat that was attached to him and threw them on the ground, not seeing where they went. He stood still for a moment in the middle of a hallway, facing the wall. His hands balling into fists, she shoulders moving up and down with every breath he took, and then his right hand collided with the wall, hard, making a small dent. He stretched his hand out, lowering it back to his side. His knuckles hurt but he didn't care, he didn't feel it. He only felt the sheer panic and rage coursing through every inch of his body.
This can't be happening.
He put his back to the wall and slid down putting his face in his hands, his body shaking with sobs. The florescent light above him was flickering; a woman in blue scrubs passed him pushing a cart where there was a loud shrieking coming from. Oliver slammed his eyes shut and put his hands to his ears. The noises around him seeming to gradually get louder and louder. A man on the phone, a woman typing behind the counter, crying all around him. It was so loud. The noise, the flickering light, the constant stream of people bustling up and down the hallway; it was all too much.
This can't be happening. He thought yet again. He repeated it like a mantra in his head.
This can't be happening. Not her. Anyone but her. If he could trade his life for hers, he would. He would happily spend the rest of his days on the island if it meant she could spend the rest of hers, a full one, here. She had her whole life ahead of her. It wasn't fair. He wanted to put an arrow through someone. He wanted to take his anger out on anything, or any one. The wall wasn't enough.
This can't be happening.
They were having a relaxing Sunday. They were taking a day off from their hectic lives, a break from their vigilante duties. They were watching a movie, he couldn't think of what it was about anymore, it didn't matter, but they were talking over it, discussing the names on their list. It had been an ongoing conversation between the two for months now, they couldn't decide on a name and they needed to soon.
"Helena?" Felicity asked, laughing at the expression on Oliver's face. She kissed him on the cheek as she got off the couch going to the kitchen to get a piece of cake. Chocolate. Her favorite.
"Thea will want to be there when it happens." Oliver called back to her as he turned his attention back to the movie.
"Well of course. She has every right to. She is the go-" He heard Felicity take a sharp breath of intake, her plate shattering to the ground. He spun around in his seat and saw her hunched over at the waist, one hand on the counter holding her up, the other clutching her abdomen and her plate in pieces scattered around her feet.
His vision blurred as he rushed over to her and bent down to look her in the eyes, afraid to touch her as he was afraid of causing her more pain. Her eyes were wide; her face was in shock and her mouth moving as though she was trying to say something
"Oliver." She finally got out, her voice barely above a whisper. "Oliver, some-something's wrong. I- I- I don't – I –"she kept stuttering, still hunched over, her hands clutching her abdomen. "
Oliver remained silent but swiftly picked her up and carried her bridal style out the door and to the car.
This can't be happening.
There was so much death in his life; his mom, dad, Tommy, Sara – twice, Shado, Laurel, the other five hundred and two people in the Glades. Slade was right, everything he loves, everyone close to him, dies. So much death.
He tried his damn best to avoid something like this; being overly protective, John or himself always by her side. She would laugh and at him and say he was being stupid; she was fine, everything would be fine. He knew he was being over baring but he couldn't stop himself. He was scared when they heard the news, she was surprisingly calm and collected.
"This can't be happening. This can't be happening." He had started to say it out loud now, while rocking back and forth. People walked by, trying to avoid looking at the crying man in the hallway. They had their own worries.
"This can't be happening."
"Oliver." Said a deep voice, a hand resting on his shoulder, holding him still.
"This can't be happening." Oliver said, even louder now.
The hand squeezed his shoulder and Oliver looked over to the person, it was John, he was panting. He had run over here after receiving Oliver's frantic phone call, getting there as fast as he possibly could.
Oliver straight ahead of him at the wall across the hall, resting his forearms on his knees, tears still streaming down his face.
"What happened?" John asked calmly, he was still kneeling next to Oliver, his hand still on his shoulder, afraid Oliver might do something.
"She's…" Oliver took a deep breath, eyes straight ahead. "She's – she's gone." He closed his eyes when another nurse walked by pushing a cart, a fresh wave of tears making their way down.
"Felicity?" John asked in surprise.
Oliver bowed his head. Felicity's screams of agony still echoing around in his head as he sped over here. She was screaming at him to go faster, her hands still clutching her abdomen. She was writing in pain and tears falling down her face rapidly. He flew by other cars on the road, swerving to avoid hitting a black Prius, and going through red lights, cars honking at him. He didn't care, didn't slow down, he needed to get Felicity help.
This can't be happening.
"She's – she's in there." Oliver croaked, nodding his head in the direction of the doors he had stormed through.
They were not prepared for something like this to happen. They were ready. Or as ready as one can be for something like this. Oliver had read all the books on the topic; they bought everything they needed and more. He even asked the doctors multiple questions at their appointments to the point where Felicity had fallen asleep in the chair she was occupying, the doctor telling him he had other patients to attend to. They were prepared but not for this.
Felicity.
He thought back to just moments before when he was in there with her, her face so calm, her eyes closed as though she were sleeping, oblivious to world around her. She was in so much pain when they arrived; they had put her on some strong medicine that had knocked her out within minutes.
He looked to where they were operating on her. Her body was purple and tiny. So tiny. The doctors and nurses rushing around the room trying to save her. He looked back to Felicity's face from where he was standing in the middle of the room. Her heart monitor had finally gone back down to normal and for that Oliver looked relieved, but it wasn't over, not yet. She was so tiny.
Oliver wasn't a religious man but in that moment he sent up a message to whoever may be listening. Please he thought, not her, please not her. It wasn't fair.
The doctor suddenly stopped doing chest compressions; he looked at the clock, saying something. Time seemed to slow, the others in the room stopped what they were doing. No. no. no no no no no. Oliver was shaking his head, taking a step back. No.
"Mr. Queen." A nurse said slowly, taking a step toward Oliver. Her voice sounded muffled, his ears were ringing. "Mr. Que-" Oliver turned around suddenly and flew out the door.
Oliver mentally shook his head, back in the brightly lit hallway, John still kneeling next to him, frozen by the news.
"Oliver, I'm – I'm so sorry." John said, sorrow in his voice, his eyes rimmed with tears. He couldn't even begin to image what Olive but be going through. John himself had his wife, Lyla, and his daughter, baby Sara, who are his everything. He would do anything he needed to do to save them, to protect them to make sure nothing ever happened to them. He couldn't even fathom what Oliver must be feeling right now.
Oliver remained silent and stared blankly at the wall across from. He tried to focus on the color of the wall and think only of that, except this color was bad, now it would forever remained him of this day, this horrible life changing day. His body was limp; he had no strength left anymore and he didn't want to move, he didn't think he would be able to. He tried to take a deep breath but it was hard, his chest hurt, his head hurt, his whole body ached. His heart hurt.
This can't be happening.
He started to get up and John took ahold of his arms to help him up. When Oliver was finally on his feet and sturdy enough that John was confident he wouldn't fall onto his face, he slowly let him go and took a step back. Oliver took a deep breath, it was still painful and would probably not be better for a very long time but he started walking back to the double doors while his legs shook. John stayed where he was looking after Oliver in hallway hoping they would be ok.
Felicity would be awake soon and Oliver needed to be there when she did. He needed to be the one to tell her, not a doctor or a nurse, but him, only him. She will be devastated. They would figure out their next steps, learn how to live this new life, learn to move on but to never forget.
Felicity is ok, his wife is ok. This is what Oliver keeps telling himself as he walks to where his she is, needing to be next to her. His wife was ok. They would be ok. They would get through this the same way they get through everything,, together.