A/N: Title taken from Lauryn Hill's "To Zion." Greetings! Full disclaimer, I haven't actually watched a full episode of Arrow since 701. I have a general idea of what's been happening but I've only caught clips so if something doesn't add up with canon, that's why. But these two having a baby and some much-needed happiness seems to have inspired me so here we are! Anyway, I hope you like this and thanks so much for reading. Cheers to baby Mia Smoak Queen. :)
A draft from somewhere ghosts the length of Felicity's spine as she sits at her desk. Her skin prickles with a shiver.
She can't believe she hasn't noticed how cold the apartment is until now, though it's not surprising. Finding somewhere to live in the days leading up to Oliver's release from prison was less about searching for a warm place to call home and more about finding something, period.
She honestly hadn't given a second thought to the chilly echo lost in the height of the ceilings or carpet-less floors, or the walls in that off sort of gray, dull and devoid of any real sign of life or color. All Felicity had wanted to do was move in, secure the perimeter and place the picture of William on her desk as a reminder that he was safe and coming home.
The painful weight of their goodbye seizes Felicity's chest again, festering like the silence that has frozen their apartment in the week since William left. The week since she found out that she's—
Her pulse races in remembrance.
She hasn't even said it out loud yet, not even to herself let alone her husband. Hasn't fully wrapped her head around the idea of the tiny life growing inside her. She doesn't even feel any different, although she's not sure if she's supposed to yet? Aside from an increased appetite, which she had attributed to the munchies she usually gets during the winter months anyway, she hasn't noticed any change at all.
Except...
Now that she thinks about it, her breasts have felt extra sensitive lately. Only last week she had to pull Oliver's mouth away from the fiery kisses he strung across her chest because the sensation had been overwhelming and bordering on pain — and not the good kind. And some days she's felt the kind of tired that roots bone-deep and not even the strongest of coffee can shake. Not to mention the last time Oliver made his famous chili months and months ago she could barely stomach the spice of one mouthful, let alone two whole servings.
How could she not have seen it?
Her hand flies to her stomach again, the same way it has every time she's caught herself replaying the moment Dr Schwartz told her the news and changed her life forever.
"I'm pregnant," Felicity says quietly, finally testing the words out loud and how they feel in her heart, how they settle in her stomach.
Pregnant.
Her heart flutters again and she wonders if the baby can feel it, if their tiny heart is fluttering too.
"It's probably too early for that, I think?" she tells herself, which only serves to make her pulse race harder.
Expelling a calming whistle of breath, Felicity tries to steady herself and focus on the screen in front of her because the bugs in this security system are not going to fix themselves. She rolls her shoulders a couple of times, wincing at the feel and sound of the knots clicking at every rotation, and tries desperately to keep her eyes on the ones and zeros of code but her attention drifts back to the picture of William beside her.
It always does.
Tugging the frame closer, she gently strokes the line of his chin and the stretch of his smile and it's one she hadn't seen on his face in so long. She'd tried so hard to make him happy back when they were in witness protection together and even before that — talking constantly, watching movies and playing video games, teaching him the basics of coding and tech when he'd shown an interest — but the shine of his smile was never quite the same, never quite as bright.
He missed his dad, his friends. He missed his normal every day sort of life.
Maybe he'll find that happiness with his grandparents now. Maybe he'll have the normalcy he's always deserved, just like Samantha wanted for him.
It's all Felicity can hope for while her heart breaks with missing him. The feeling that she went wrong somewhere along the way looms in her chest and the "What ifs" skitters under her skin almost daily, and maybe she's not cut out to be a parent anyway, not now, maybe not ever.
"Hey you," Oliver says then, the sound a whispery caress, and Felicity can't help but smile, even in the midst of her mini-gargantuan internal freak-out.
Her husband knows all too well not to startle her when she's lost in code, even though she's not that kind of lost right now. She appreciates the care all the same.
"Hi," she murmurs in reply, and they both share a soft smile, though it's a little on the side of strained these days.
William's absence swells in every greeting hello now, every wave goodbye, and stretches into all corners of their home. They're both trying hard to move past it but deep down Felicity wonders if this is just the way things are now, if this is just another sadness that will weigh on them forever and can they not catch a goddamn break?
"Why are you sitting in the dark?" Oliver wonders, flipping on the desk lamp and flooding the room with a pale yellow light. "You know it hurts your eyes."
"Oh." Felicity squints and blinks a few times to adjust to the sudden brightness. "I hadn't noticed."
"Not going so well, huh?" he asks gently, nodding at her computer just as the screen goes dark with lack of use.
"It's not going at all," she says with a sigh, not even finding the strength to lie as she wilts back in her seat. "I can't seem to focus, you know."
Oliver follows her hand where it's now gripping William's picture and he shifts closer, reaching for her shoulder to give it a solid comforting squeeze. The tips of his fingers rest gently against her collarbone.
Sometimes she hears so much in the way he touches her but lately the caress is weighted with something else.
I miss him, she feels in the tender press of his fingertips.
Did we do the right thing?
Don't leave me, too.
Felicity clasps his fingers and draws them to her mouth for a string of quick-fire kisses she threads across his knuckles, nuzzling the back of his hand with the rose of her cheek and holding him there, hoping he feels the response he craves.
I miss him, too.
I hope so.
I'm glue, baby. Remember?
In return, Oliver breathes a kiss to her temple and pauses for a moment to inhale the warm scent of her skin before he finds the strength to move away.
He heard her. He always does.
"He sounded a lot happier on the phone last night, so that's good," he says then, his voice lined with uncertainty, though he tries to fight it.
"I'm glad. I know it's what he wanted for now and that helps make this easier, I guess? I just wish...Well, you know," she finishes with a half-hearted gesture at nothing but air.
"I know. Me too," Oliver agrees as he drifts over to the couch and sits down, his exhale as heavy and weary as Felicity currently feels.
She turns in her desk chair and watches him.
Her husband has shucked off his shoes, something she's encouraged him to do as soon as he comes home from work — comfort is paramount at Chez Queen — and he's pushed the sleeves of his sweater up to his elbows, exposing the sinewy strength of his forearms in the way that she loves. With one arm extended against the back of the couch, the pose is the very picture of relaxed but Felicity knows different now.
She's long since learned the way the guilt he always carries settles in the tense tightness of his shoulders, and the furrow of his brow when he's lost in dark thoughts. She knows the twitch of his fingers when he's angry and restless for his bow, and the weight of the world playing on his mind as he stares aimlessly into the distance.
Usually she gives him a little bit of time, knowing he often needs a moment to collect his thoughts and re-center himself, especially after a long day back as Green Arrow. He doesn't always say as much but she knows he's still adjusting to the process after so many months away.
But she can't afford him that time today. There's simply not enough of it.
Soon, she'll be dashing for the bathroom in the mornings and turning her nose up at the smell of coffee and turning down the glass of red wine she sometimes has with dinner. Her clothes will no longer fit and probably more than just her stomach will swell and at some point her husband is going to notice all these things.
She needs to tell him. Now. It's getting harder and harder not to.
The thing is, in all of their discussions about their pasts and the dreams of their future together they'd never once talked about having children, as crazy as that sounds. Raising William was one thing but a tiny little baby is something else. They're both precious, of course, but in completely different ways.
There goes her heart again, racing, the heat of the secret flooding her cheeks and drawing the sweat to the crease of her palms.
Feeling all kinds of restless and uneasy, Felicity hastily wipes her hands against her jeans a couple of times and then starts to pick at the tiny chip she only just noticed in the shiny red polish on her thumbnail.
It doesn't help that all she has thought about this last week is whether they can even do this now that William has chosen to leave. If they can't even give their teenage son the normal life he craved, what kind of life can they give their baby?
And is it selfish to want it so much?
Because she does, oh she does. She knows that now, a deeply rooted certainty. Her heart doesn't just dance and flutter when she thinks of their baby so tiny in her tummy.
It soars.
The feeling is life changing — staggering, even.
Whenever she vaguely considered kids in the abstract of "What if?" she always thought her happiness would be tinged with panic and fear because babies had never been part of her plan and she doesn't even know how to handle one. But she never really expected that overwhelming sense of want. She feels it in every single part of her now, trembles with it sometimes.
Felicity's eyes burn with tears and she splutters a breathy strangled laugh, a mix of awe and disbelief twisting the sound.
Startled by the noise, Oliver turns his head to look at her. The worry instantly bleeds into his face and pinches the lines of his forehead as he takes in the slow watery streak crawling down one cheek.
"Felicity," he asks, on alert now, his posture rigid. "What is it?"
She shakes her head, her mouth opening soundlessly, and it's one of the few occasions she's at a total loss for words.
"Hey, come here," he says, and beckons her over with a tender curl of his fingers.
Felicity drifts over to him then, slides her hand into his own and lets their fingers entwine as he tugs her down by his side. She wants to burrow into his warmth, rest her ear on the reassuring beat of his heart — her favorite sound since he came home from prison — but she knows she needs to look him in the eye for this. She needs to see the change in his face when she tells him he's going to be a father again.
She wants to see it. Desperately.
"What's wrong?" Oliver tries again. "Talk to me."
He squeezes her hand and Felicity returns the gesture just as firmly, steals a little of his strength and absorbs the calm his touch and presence has on her nerves. She sniffles and swipes at the damp tracks on her face in an effort to pull herself together.
"Nothing's wrong," she starts tentatively, her pulse escalating again. "But I do have something to tell you."
"Well, I guessed that," Oliver says, a wary attempt at humor, unsure where this is heading. "Is it about William?"
"No, well, kind of?"
Trying to collect her scattered thoughts for a second, Felicity watches the play of her free fingers against the seam of his jeans running down the outer length of his thigh, tugs at the material a couple of times.
"I found out last week and I've wanted to tell you but with Will leaving I just wasn't sure how to say it and if it was the best time and really, I haven't fully wrapped my brain around it and you know me, sometimes I just need time to think and take a breath—"
"Felicity, maybe take a breath right now?" Oliver insists, just as her words start to flow together too fast for comprehension.
She nods and does what she's told, inhaling deeply through her nose and expelling it through her mouth under her husband's watchful eyes. He looks so wary and expectant all at once and oh, she loves him so much she could just burst with it sometimes.
"I'm pregnant," she says in a rush instead, holding her whole body tense in wait.
Oliver stills, though his mouth parts slightly in a breath of surprise, and Felicity hears nothing but the race and rush of blood as it pounds in her ears.
This is it, she thinks. This is the moment and there's no going back.
"Felicity," Oliver whispers then, all breathy in disbelief, and the absolute shock and awe of the moment blooms across his face and glistens in his eyes.
Of all the things he imagined she might say Felicity knows he never once expected that.
"Are you—are you sure?" he continues haltingly, and bites his lip to restrain a smile, like he can scarcely let himself believe he gets to have something so precious after every hell he's been through.
Felicity nods and watches the hope mount in his eyes. "The blood tests caught it. They're pretty fail-proof."
"I love you," Oliver says, not needing to hear anything else, and there's a rough, desperate quality in the lilt of his voice as he hurriedly turns his whole body to face her properly, to give her all of himself. "I love you so much."
He moves his hands in the air around her body, aimlessly at first, like he wants so desperately to touch her but just doesn't know where to start, seemingly overwhelmed by it all.
That makes two of them.
Finally, he settles on a single touch of his palm to her lower belly and he watches his hand with the same tender smile he gave her on their wedding day; the adoration deepening the lines around his still shiny eyes.
Over the years, Felicity has watched his expression evolve from friendly affection to the deepest kind of love, but this one beaming so brightly at her now is another level in the realm of something else, something indescribable.
Monumental.
"Ourbaby," Oliver adds lovingly, in awe, and his touch is the softest she's ever felt, barely a hum against her skin.
A muted gasp around the emotion caught thick in her throat, Felicity starts nodding for no reason at all, like all motion is beyond her cognitive control right now, and feels the renewed sting of tears beading at the corners of her eyes.
Oliver whispers out her name again, the way he always does when he wants to comfort her in some way, and presses his forehead against her own. They both close their eyes and take a breath together, a moment, and Felicity's heart finally settles in pure relief.
She hopes the baby feels it, too.
It's a while before either of them moves or says a word, both seeming to know to relish this quiet sort of spell dancing between them for as long as they can because they don't often get the chance.
When Oliver finally pulls away, begrudgingly, he slides his fingers to cup her face, his thumb a smooth caress against her cheek. He kisses her forehead at first, the barest trace of his lips, and then allows his gaze to skip from her eyes to her mouth and back again, following the path over and over, like he can't believe she's real and this is really happening, and Felicity knows he's thinking he doesn't deserve any of it.
"I love you," she murmurs, and strokes the slow spread of his smile, laughing a little when he quickly kisses her fingertips in response.
"I can't believe this," he says faintly, and huffs a breathy half-laugh.
"Me neither. But you're happy? I mean, we didn't plan for this or—"
"Happy? I never thought I'd get the chance to do this, to go through everything I missed with William, but the fact that I get to do this with you? Felicity..." Oliver shakes his head, every movement, every expression painted with wonderment and colored with disbelief. "It's my greatest wish."
"And I love that," she reassures, taking his hand from her face and interlacing their fingers once again.
"But you're reluctant," he guesses, his tone a little more sober now.
"No," Felicity says, adamant, clutching at him fiercely. "I want this too, more than I thought possible. But I can't deny that I'm worried, especially with the timing of it all. We just agreed to let our son live with his grandparents because we couldn't give him the normal life he wanted. How can we cope with a baby?"
Oliver blinks at her a few times, as lost as she is.
"I don't know," he settles on finally, and it's true.
Nothing is ever certain in their line of work or the way they choose to live their lives. Everything about them is bows and arrows and bunkers, not diapers and dummies and strollers. Making those two worlds fit cohesively seems like a daunting, somewhat impossible task.
"All I know is we'll figure it out," Oliver continues. "Together. Like we always do."
"Promise?" she begs him.
"I promise. I'm not going anywhere."
It's beyond her control but Felicity's stomach sinks a little at that because he's said as much before, only to leave them alone for months while he sacrificed himself to prison. It's something that still burns heavy in her chest every now and then when she thinks about it, even now. Probably always will if she's really honest with herself.
"You say that now but what if something happens and you get scared and send me and the baby away for our protection? I know it's because you love us but I don't want that, Oliver."
He clenches his eyes closed and hangs his head, just for a second, the lingering guilt of his decision washing over him once again. Felicity never wants to constantly remind him of it but at times like this it's impossible not to.
She's needy for reassurance right now.
"Felicity," Oliver starts, his thumb brushing across the shine of her wedding ring all the while. "I can't promise that I will never stop worrying or doing whatever it takes to protect our family. Even when I was in prison my only thought was whether you and William were safe. That's never going to go away, especially not now. I can't help that. It's not who I am."
"I know," she whispers.
"But I can promise that I'm not going to make decisions by myself anymore. Every decision about our family we'll make together, okay?"
She stares into his eyes, comforted by the intensity there.
"Okay," she breathes after a long moment.
"I'll do everything to keep you by my side," Oliver carries on, impassioned now. "And if anything, this baby gives us more incentive in what we're doing in this city. We have even more to fight for now.
"That's true."
"And, you know, we're never going to be a normal family because of what we do. William taught us that. But maybe this is our chance to create a new normal, something that's normal for us?"
Felicity clutches at his fingers in response, nodding the whole time, her approval a low hum in the back of her throat.
"Look at you giving the pep talks now," she says with a tiny grin that Oliver matches immediately, beam for beam.
"I learned from the best."
"You sure did."
"Can I kiss you now?" Oliver asks, his voice low and thready, his eyes alight and eager, and Felicity's face breaks with another cheek-aching smile.
"You know you never have to ask me that."
He surges forward then, seizes her face in both hands, and brings her lips to his own, soft and slow and delicious. They kiss for what feels like forever, just a gentle weave and press of their mouths over and over, shared and stuttered breaths captured between kisses when the need for air is too great.
When they eventually part, Oliver lingers for a long while against her mouth and Felicity feels his smile more than once, like he can't help the pure joy from seeping into his face whenever he thinks about their baby.
"What should we do now?" he asks, excited almost, and he looks so different from earlier, his shoulders more relaxed, his soul a little less burdened, and the weight of the world has melted away, at least for a little while.
Right now, Felicity couldn't ask for anything better.
"Well," she says as she pushes him back into the corner of the sofa and curls up beside him. "I know we have tons of things to talk about and OB-GYN appointments to make and prenatal vitamins to buy and all of that. And we need to tell William and my mom and Thea and Emiko, if you'd like to."
"I would," he admits.
"And you will. But first can we just sit here for a while, just the two of us?"
"Just the three of us," Oliver says with a blush and a delighted smile, and when he wraps her within the heat of his embrace, Felicity finally feels warm again.