The first time is immediately after the destruction of the Glades.. or most of them, anyway. Felicity had somehow managed to make it out of Verdant without it collapsing in on her. In her scope of the damage surrounding her, she'd found that, while large portions of the ceiling had now become nice decorations on the floor, the building was at least standing. A fine film of dust covered nearly every surface around her and brief glance at her lap had confirmed that she herself was included. For the first time since she joined the team, she didn't even hesitate when John's voice came crackling through the comms telling her to go home and sleep.
Home she could do, sleep would at least be a consideration.
She'd gone home and immediately moved for the shower, scrubbing every bit of rubble from her skin and hair, leaving her clothes to be dealt with and decided on in the morning – or whenever she woke the next day. Felicity hadn't planned to delay sleep, she couldn't deny the exhaustion pulling at her, the emptiness of her stomach simply pulled harder. She had tried to remember the last time she'd eaten as she went for the cereal stacked on top of her fridge.
Cleaned and fed, there was nothing else standing between her and her bed. But an hour after collapsing into the pillows, her eyes were closed but her brain was wide awake. The sound of her bedroom window, connected to the fire escape, caused her eyes to fly open as she felt around the nightstand for anything that could be used as a weapon. The best she found was the cordless land line which, she figured, she could at least throw at the intruder. Her hand released as she recognized the silhouette of the person climbing deftly through her window, the pointed hood was a hard image to mistake. The phone clattered against her nightstand and she rushed to meet him at the end of the bed.
"Oliver?" She whispered as she straightened up on the bed, her knees pressed into the fabric of her comforter. He turned to her and, even in the low light from the street lamps, she could make out the desperation and pain in his eyes. Felicity's mind immediately turned to Laurel, Detective Lance's phone call with his daughter still fresh in her mind, and then to Thea, her boyfriend was from the Glades right? She awkwardly stumbled off the bed and stood in front of Oliver, pushing him down gently by his shoulders to sit at the foot of her bed.
"What happened?" She regretted the question the instant it left her mouth. What a stupid question! She knew exactly what had happened. A better question would be who. But she wasn't sure she wanted to know. He answered the question she wasn't sure she could ask.
"Tommy." His voice is raspy and quiet and sounds like a pepper grinder. Her heartaches for him and, though she doesn't need him to, he goes on,
"He's gone." She throws herself at him and, though she barely knew the man in question, she's not sure whether she's looking to give or get comfort. He buries his face in her stomach and she wraps her arms around his neck as his hood falls backwards. She doesn't realize he's crying until a sob runs through his shoulders and shakes her ribcage. She doesn't shush him or whisper lies about how everything will be fine but instead runs her fingers through his close cropped hair and lets his sobs shake both their bodies.
She doesn't know how long they stay like this, she looks up to find that the clock on her nightstand is flashing 12:00 in big red letters and tries to remember how long it's been that way. But Oliver stops shaking and pulls his head back from her stomach and she has more pressing matters to deal with than resetting her clock. She loosens her grip on his neck as he leans back and looks up at her, tear tracks obvious in the dirt and dust that cover his face.
She steps back to take his hands and help him to his feet before leading him to her bathroom. He sits on the toilet lid as she switches on the light and wets a washcloth. Moving in front of him, she begins wiping gently at his face, working meticulously to remove the dirt and, what she can now tell to be, dried blood from his already bruising skin. He rests his hands on her hips, steadying her, but she's not sure which one of them he's actually trying to steady. It isn't until she takes a step back to examine her work that she notices the large bloodied hole in his chest.
Her hand flies to her mouth and she bites her cheek to keep from gasping or scolding or whatever she might do under normal circumstances. She's having trouble remembering what "normal" was like tonight. No questions or accusations. No words at all in fact. They work in understanding and he lifts his arms carefully as she finds a way to remove his leather hood without causing more pain, and then repeats the movements with the t-shirt he wears underneath. Felicity bites down hard on her lip at the sight of the wound in all it's glory. She doesn't have to check around back to know it goes all the way through.
There is no medical kit in her apartment but she grabs some antiseptic from the cabinet and places it on the sink. She rinses off the washcloth and returns to her spot in front of him, his hands back on her hips, and begins scrubbing away the dried blood, moving from the front of the wound to the back. She retrieves a new washcloth and pours the antiseptic into it, returning to the wound. The sting of the liquid seems to wake him from his trance and the gravely voice she's never heard before tonight is back.
"I failed." She looks up from the wound briefly and thinks he might cry again and that, this time, she might join him.
"I failed the city," he continues. "I deserve an arrow in my chest." She steps back from him, her eyes turning fierce as she finds her own voice. It comes out strange and she considers his isn't the only voice she doesn't recognize.
"Don't say that!" She snaps a bit louder than she means to and he flinches but meets her eyes for the first time that night. She lowers her voice. "You have not failed this city, Oliver."
"If it weren't for me..," he drifts but she can see where he's going.
"If it weren't for you, no one would have known about Merlyn's plan. You gave people a chance," she reasons. "You saved a lot of lives tonight. That's an important fact you need to remember." She returns her attention to his wound and she can practically feel the thoughts buzzing in his head but she's almost certain of the most prominent one.
He hadn't saved Tommy.
She dressed his wound the best she could with what she had and pushed him toward her bed. He stumbled a bit and she could tell he was looking towards the window.
"Felicity..," he begins, ready to argue his way into an escape. She wonders if he's beginning to wake up and figure out why he came to her in the first place. She doesn't give him the chance to try and put two and two together and somehow end up with negative five.
"Just sleep, Oliver," she says gently, "and tomorrow you'll wake up, go home to Thea, and wait for news. You'll visit Laurel and inspect the damage of the club. You'll give Digg time off and find a way to grieve properly, in the loving hands of friends and family. You'll go on living, because he'd want you to." He turns and stares at her for a moment and she wonders if she's overstepped but holds her ground anyway.
"Just sleep," she repeats. He doesn't respond but climbs into her bed and scoots to the side until there is room for her as well. She considers the movie cliché in which one of them would sleep beneath the comforter and the other above, in a way of keeping it innocent looking, but she considers how much the both need the warmth and comfort of the comforter and doesn't bother with the thought any longer.
She finds sleep as her arm finds the warmth of his waist and neither of them shy away from the much needed human contact. There is nothing sexual or romantic about this night, there is only comfort they both need.
Felicity wakes up well into the afternoon the next morning to a note on her beside table, held down by the wait of her clock that now lights up dully in the daylight signaling the correct time to her. The note is simple and unsigned but she doesn't need the signature.
Thank you.