A/N: It seems that I can't write a happy, fluffy story without writing a sad, angsty one to proceed it. I'm sorry in advance for how much of a bummer this is. But at least there's a happy ending!

Felicity fiddled with the huge green stone sitting on her ring finger as she stared out the airplane window.

Oliver had been super understanding about it. He said she didn't have to wear the ring today if she didn't want to. He said it wouldn't hurt his feelings or anything. He told her over and over again that he wanted her to get what she needed out of this.

The truth of the matter was, she couldn't take the ring off even if she wanted to. Her engagement ring was as much a part of her now as the finger it was wrapped around. She slept with it, she showered with it. The only time she ever took it off was during surgery and even then she kept it pinned to the inside of her scrub top, right next to her heart. The minute the gloves were off her hands, that engagement ring was back on her finger.

It was her anchor, keeping her weighted to reality. It was the talisman that warded away the nightmares, the truth that let her know that Oliver wasn't a dream. He existed. He was hers.

But it wasn't the only anchor. She had another one in a box, sitting at the bottom of her purse.

The problem with that one was that it didn't keep her grounded. It dragged her down into a sea of grief that she didn't want anymore.

She tried desperately not to think too much about it as she pressed her forehead against the window.

For the record, it was her therapist's idea.

"Have you visited him since you've been back?" he asked.

Felicity had to blink a few times to even wrap her head around the thought. Of course she hadn't — that was like asking, "Have you held your hand over an open flame today?"

"No," she said slowly. "Why?"

He shrugged. "Maybe it would be a nice thing. Help you say goodbye. Help you get a little bit of closure. Help you not to feel so guilty about marrying Oliver."

She fidgeted a little in her seat at the idea. A lot had changed in five years, yes...but was she ready? Was she strong enough to go back to the same place that had been the setting for the worst day of her life?

"Do you think I should?" she asked.

"That's not for me to say," her therapist answered. "It's what you think is best."

Felicity looked down at her hands, the ever-present emerald refracting the light all around it. As she looked at it, her mind went to another ring, bought in the same country and set aside for the same purpose.

"He bought this while he was over there. He was planning on using it to propose when he came home."

Her hands clenched and Felicity closed her eyes.

Cooper may have been dead, but he still deserved an explanation. And she deserved to be able to move forward with her life free from any guilt that still tied her down.

She went home that evening to tell Oliver about it. Without hesitation, he turned on his laptop and bought the tickets — one for each of them.

Her fiance reached across the armrest to take her hand in his. His touch pulled Felicity's forehead off the glass and she turned to look at him. His blue eyes were steady. Serious.

"Are you OK?" he asked.

Was she? She was still breathing. Her heart was still functioning. But every muscle was filled with a creeping dread that got stronger and stronger the closer they got.

"I don't know," she answered.

Oliver nodded, then reached around to wrap his arm around her shoulders. Wordlessly, she snuggled deeper against his side.

"I'm right here," he told her. "I'm not going anywhere."

She closed her eyes and held tight to that notion. And for that moment, it was enough.

In all reality, she shouldn't have been able to visit Cooper's grave. If he'd had his way, his remains would have been scattered to the winds off the top of the Atlanta observatory where they had their first date.

OK, well, if he'd really had his way he wouldn't have died in the first place.

Anyway.

Mrs. Seldon had a lot of difficulty dealing with the reality that her beloved baby boy was dead. Then when Felicity told her that Cooper would have preferred to be cremated, she went to pieces at the thought.

"I grew him from scratch," she wept. "Every single bone, every single muscle. I made him inside me. My body created his. I won't let you burn it. I can't."

So Felicity stayed silent. Even though she knew what Cooper would have wanted, she didn't have any power in this situation. This was his mother. And who was she? She wasn't a wife. She wasn't even a fiancee.

She was an almost. Almosts don't get a say.

A week later, she stood in the front pew of a church Cooper had long since stopped believing in and watched the pall bearers carry his flag-draped casket into the hearse. Mrs. Seldon clinged to Felicity's elbow, her other hand pressing her handkerchief to her weeping face.

Felicity stood stone still as it all happened. She let Mrs. Seldon lean on her, weep on her, clutch her tightly as Cooper's mangled body disappeared.

When they got to the grave site, the priest gave the final rites. Then the honor guard stepped forward to give the 21 gun salute while taps played. Everyone flinched at each round — everyone except Felicity. She didn't move a single muscle.

After the honor guard was finished, they folded up the flag and stepped forward to give the tidy triangle to Mrs. Seldon. She accepted it with shaking hands, her sobs deepening after the soldier gave his final condolences.

When the ceremony was over, when the guard had left and all the guests had gotten into their cars to drive to the wake, Felicity remained standing over the hole in the ground.

It seemed like everyone close to him was left with a token, something to honor him by. His sister got the flowers. His brother got the purple heart. His mother got the flag.

So what did she get?

She peered into the grave. His shiny gray casket was hidden by bits of dirt and the flowers people had thrown in after him.

With shaking hands, she pulled the tiny velvet box out of her purse. The lid lifted to reveal the beautifully simple ring: the shining pearl nestled into the delicate silver band.

Mrs. Seldon couldn't bear the thought of burning his body, even if it was what he would have wanted. So she packed it away in a tiny box and buried it deep within the earth so she'd always know where it was.

Why couldn't Felicity do the same? Why couldn't she pack away the promise of a future they'd never have?

He might have died, but her love for him didn't. It wasn't like she could just burn it away from herself and scatter the ashes to the winds.

The box came closed with a tight snap. This time, she flinched.

Felicity didn't say a single word the entire drive to the cemetery, and Oliver didn't try to get her to talk. Not once did he ask her what she was thinking, what she was feeling. He didn't have to.

Not for the first time was she supremely grateful that her fiance understood.

Despite not having visited since the funeral, she remembered exactly where the grave was. It had changed a lot since then, of course — it was no longer just a hole in the ground. Now there was a headstone marking where he lay, with two little decorative American flags planted next to it.

Sergeant Cooper Michael Seldon

Soldier, son, friend

June 18, 1980-November 10, 2010

Felicity suddenly felt overcome with emotion at the sight of his name. It was the first time she'd seen it written out before her in years.

She brought a hand to her mouth as her eyes welled up. It was like the past five years hadn't happened — all the grief she thought she had worked through came back in full force. It felt like he died just yesterday, and she was trying to figure out what her future looked like without him in it.

But just when she was about to get swept up in the sea of her grief, Oliver reached over and wrapped her left hand in his. Her fingers squeezed his, registering the calluses and the way the thin band of her engagement ring bit into her skin.

He was here. The last five years had happened.

She wasn't alone anymore.

And just like that, she could breathe again. She was still drifting out in the sea of her grief, but she was no longer drowning. Oliver was her life raft. He kept her head above water.

Wordlessly, she lowered herself until she was on the ground, right in front of Cooper's headstone. Oliver followed her lead, never letting go of her hand for a second.

Felicity closed her eyes and tried to remember the last time she saw Cooper's face while he was still alive. It was at the send off ceremony, where the commanding general gave inspiring remarks to the deploying units. Then the soldiers got one last chance to say goodbye to their loved ones.

It took her a little while to find Cooper's face in the crowd, but once she did, she jumped into his arms and kissed him. It was a soft and sweet one — far more chaste than it would have been had they been alone.

She pulled away, then pressed her forehead against his. "You be safe over there, OK?"

He smiled. "Yes, ma'am."

"And you Skype and call whenever you can."

"Of course."

She rubbed her nose against his. "I'm going to miss you."

"I'm going to miss you, too," he grinned. Then he kissed her again. "You don't think you'll get sick of me while I'm gone, do you?"

She shook her head. "Not a chance."

His lips lifted into a beautiful smile, and it warmed her from the inside. It was like drinking from a steady stream of thick hot chocolate on a freezing winter day.

"I love you, Felicity Smoak."

"I love you too, Cooper Seldon."

When she opened her eyes, she was back in the cemetery. Kneeling at Cooper's grave.

A pang of longing hit her. She missed his smile and his easygoing affection. He wasn't afraid to kiss her in public or wrap his arms around her or otherwise display in all the myriad ways how he loved her.

She swallowed hard around the lump around her throat.

"How do I do this?" she asked Oliver hoarsely. "Do I just...do I just talk to him?"

He nodded. "Yeah. If you want to."

She looked back down at his headstone. She took note of the spindly, serif-ed font that spelled out his name, the little American flags that denoted his service to a country that had since forgotten his sacrifice.

She took in a deep breath.

"Hey, Cooper," she whispered.

Her voice broke on his name and she swore she couldn't go on. But then Oliver's hand squeezed hers. She picked herself up and tried again.

"So I know it's been a while. A long while. And I'm really sorry about that."

Felicity's free hand clenched in her lap.

"A lot's happened. I moved to Germany after you...after you died. I worked at Landstuhl for a few years. I even saw Myron there." A fresh stab of pain when she remembered Cooper's best friend.

"Anyway, I should explain why it's been so long." She took in a deep breath. "I...couldn't bring myself to visit you. I was in so much grief and pain, especially after Myron came back with that ring you bought."

The minute she mentioned the ring, she thought of the tiny box floating in the bottom of her purse. Now would have been the time to bring it out.

She took another deep breath and turned to Oliver. "Hon?" she asked tentatively. "Can I...can I have a moment alone with him?"

He nodded without a second's hesitation. "Of course," he said. He gave her hand one last squeeze, then released it. He got to his feet, and walked away. Felicity listened to his retreating footfalls until she was sure he was out of earshot.

With trembling fingers, she shrugged her purse off her shoulders and reached into it to pull the box out. Then she opened it to reveal the ring.

It was the same as she remembered: simple, beautiful, elegant. It reminded her so much of Cooper. It reminded her so much of what their love was like.

"You had amazing taste, by the way," she mentioned. It was like she was slowly easing into the conversation. "I mean, I never would have picked it out myself, but the minute I saw it, I knew it was exactly what I would have wanted if you came back to give it to me yourself."

Another pang of longing hit her, but this time it didn't hit so hard.

"Myron felt pretty bad about it, you know," she told him. "Awful. His eyes were just completely bloodshot when gave it to me. I would have felt bad for him, if I wasn't otherwise emotionally preoccupied."

Felicity thought back to the last time she saw Myron. His insides laid bare on her surgical table, a roomful of nurses and doctors rushing the clock to save him. Her bloodstained gloves pounding against his still chest. How Digg had accepted the truth before she had.

She closed her eyes and tears escaped them. "I tried saving him, like you would have wanted me to. I swear I did. I did everything I could, but I just...I just wasn't enough, I guess."

When she opened her eyes, she looked down at the box in her hand. She lifted her hand to the pearl for the first time in five years. She half expected it to disintegrate the minute she touched it, but the cool solidness only cemented the reality of it all.

"Anyway...I just wanted to let you know that...that I miss you," she whispered. "I miss you every day. And in the beginning, it was so much that I think I forgot to breathe sometimes."

She looked up from the ring to his headstone. With her same trembling finger, she reached forward to trace the letters of his name. She pretended like it was his face — that she was stroking those same, smooth cheekbones.

"You know, I really tried to convince your mother that you wanted to be cremated instead of buried. But you know your mother — she was where you got your stubbornness from, remember? Anyway, she absolutely refused, and I couldn't argue with her.

"I sometimes wonder what it would have been like if we had cremated you like you wanted," Felicity continued. "For one, I don't think I would have felt as guilty as I do now. And for another, I wouldn't feel just this...this overwhelming pit of dread every time I so much as look at a cemetery."

Felicity's fingers continued to trace the letters of his name. Then they wandered down to the dates of his birth and death.

"Anyway, I wanted you to know...that I've met someone. His name is Oliver. Oliver Queen. And yes, I know what you would have said." She lowered her voice to imitate his gravely one. "'Oliver Queen? Are you kidding me? What the heck are you doing with that rich playboy? You can do way better than that!'"

She smiled a little when she imagined Cooper's reaction. Having grown up in a lower-income household, he'd always had a deep mistrust of the rich. He'd always been a fan of Marxist communist theories.

"But you know, I think you'd really like him once you got to know him. He's a soldier too. Or was, anyway. And not an officer, either! An NCO. Command sergeant major. He pretended he wasn't a Queen for five years and served the Army pretending to be a nobody because he said he wanted to become someone."

Felicity looked down at the emerald glittering on her finger and her grief-heavy heart lightened ever so slightly. She tried to imagine how Cooper and Oliver would have gotten along, if they had met in the Army. She imagined Cooper would have been a little wary at first, but Oliver's undying loyalty to those he loved — squadmates especially — would have won him over eventually.

They would have been very good friends.

"He asked me to marry him," she continued quietly. "And I said yes."

The memory of Oliver's proposal and his homecoming stood in such stark contrast to her last memories of Cooper. It was everything Cooper had wanted to do, and everything he never got to.

Where Cooper had been a very unreligious person, Mrs. Seldon was the exact opposite. She went to church every Sunday. She prayed the rosary every day. She had her parish priest over every other week for dinner — as if feeding members of the clergy would somehow get her an in with God.

If Felicity would have related everything that had happened in the past year to Mrs. Seldon, she would have smiled, cupped Felicity's cheek and told her that Cooper was looking out for her from heaven. That he had sent Oliver to her, to take care of her. To fulfill the promises that he made to her.

Felicity didn't know if she necessarily believed that. But it was nice to think.

"Cooper, I want you to know that I haven't forgotten you. Not for a second. I don't think I could ever forget you."

She took a deep breath, then closed the lid on the ring box.

"But I think I know now why you wanted to be cremated," she continued. "I think...I think you knew that if parts of you remained physically on this earth, the people you left behind would get attached. That it would be harder for us to cut our ties to you and to move on from our grief."

Felicity reached into her purse and pulled out the spade she and brought with her.

"That's why I'm giving this back," she said, holding up the tiny box. "I'm giving it back to you. I will never forget the memories we made together...but I need to finally put away all the what-ifs. I can't keep living a life split between my reality and the alternate reality I keep building up in my head. And I think you know that, and I think you understand it."

Then, with strong, sure hands, she started to dig a shallow hole. Once she was about half-a foot deep, she planted the box squarely in the center of the hole and packed the soil on top of it.

"I love you, Cooper," she declared. Tears started to well up in her eyes, even though her heart felt a million times lighter now. "I'll always love you. But I think it's time to let me love someone else."

Felicity sat back on her heels and took a deep, shuddering breath as she wiped away her tears on the back of her sleeve.

Oliver was at her side in an instant. "Hey," he whispered gently, his loving hands coming to rest on her shoulders. "Are you OK?"

She nodded, covering one of his hands with hers. "Yeah," she answered with a watery smile. "I'm good. Thank you."

They were quiet for a little bit. Felicity continued to stare at the headstone, remembering all of her most cherished memories with Cooper...their first date. Their first kiss. The times they fought and the times they made up.

Her chest felt less constricted with every passing moment until finally, the hands choking off her air supply had disappeared entirely. All that was left were fond memories tinged with a slight sadness and a profound gratitude for the man who still held on to her.

"Do you mind if I say a few things?" Oliver asked.

That took Felicity a little bit by surprise, but she recovered quickly. "Of course not," she said, scooting over to allow him room in front of the headstone. "You can say whatever you'd like."

He knelt down next to his fiancee, his hand gripping hers.

"Hi, Cooper," Oliver said. His eyes were solemn — like what he was about to say was important. "My name is Oliver Queen, and I'm Felicity's fiance."

She smiled adoringly at him, and he returned the expression briefly before turning back to the headstone. "I just want to say thank you. Thank you so much for your presence in Felicity's life, no matter how brief it may have been. You kept her safe. You loved her and you cherished her, and that made her happy. We don't really get to ask for more in this life, you know?

"But," he continued, "I do want to promise you this: I promise that I will love her, cherish her, and keep her safe. The same way you would have. The same way she deserves to be loved, cherished and kept safe for the rest of her life. I will be with her, and I will never leave her side. You don't have to worry about that."

The lump suddenly returned in Felicity's throat and fresh tears streamed down her face again. Her hand was squeezing Oliver's so hard, she was afraid she was bruising his fingers.

"So I hope you'll rest in peace, Cooper, wherever you are," he murmured. "I hope you'll feel at ease, knowing that she's safe and secure with me." Then he let go of Felicity's hand to bring his into a salute right at his brow.

"Army strong, and godspeed."

When he was finished, Oliver turned to Felicity with a gentle smile, and it only made Felicity cry even harder. With a heart bursting at the seams with love, she reached forward to throw her arms around him.

"I love you," she sobbed in his ear.

"I love you too," he responded.

Eventually they released each other, and Oliver got to his feet. But before Felicity followed him, she lifted her dirty palm to her mouth and kissed it. Then she pressed her hand over his name on his headstone.

"Goodbye, Cooper," she murmured. A single tear streaked down her cheek and fell onto the freshly dug up earth. "Rest in peace."

And with that, she stood and took Oliver's outstretched hand. He led them both back to the car, and not once did Felicity feel the need to look back.

A/N: You can find me on Tumblr at entersomethingcleverhere. Come say hi!