He thought his ears were playing tricks on him. He had slipped quietly down the stairs, careful not to disturb her as he shed his equipment for the night. After looking around him and seeing no computer screens lit, he crept back towards the stairs, intent on going home. That's when he heard the quiet, muffled sobs. I must be going insane, he thought to himself. There's no one down here. He paused, listening again. There they were. Quiet, painful sobs. He pulled the lever up, powering on the main lights in the lair. Curled into herself against a wall was his IT expert, shoulders shaking.
"Felicity?" He cursed himself as his voice came out sharper than intended. Her head slowly lifted, watery blue eyes meeting his. There was fear and pain in her eyes he had never seen before, slightly reminiscent of the first couple of weeks he'd been back from the island. He crouched down beside her, placing a hand gently on her shoulder. "What's wrong?" She shook her head and lowered it back her knees. He thought for a moment, then sat down beside her, pulling the petite blonde into his lap. She gasped.
"What are you doing?" She squeaked. He shushed her, wrapping his arms around her and rubbing comforting circles on her back.
"Are you wearing my hoodie?" He asked, noticing her attire for the first time. She nodded, leaning her head against his chest and nervously tugging its oversized sleeves over her hands. He frowned, taking note of the action and gently placing a hand over hers, pulling the sleeves up over her wrists. She quickly pulled her hands away. "Felicity..." He tilted his head to the side and lifted a hand to her face, wiping away tears with his thumb. "What happened?"
"Nothing." She mumbled, hiding her face in his chest. He stroked her hair gently, pausing for a moment.
"I'm a little scared." He whispered. "I come in and see you crying by yourself in the dark, and now you're hiding something from me." He paused, wrapping his arms around her. "Felicity, whatever happened, we can work through it. There's nothing we can't get through. And I would never think less of you. But you're scaring me a little." She lifted her head, looking at him. Assessing him. Looking for the truth in his eyes. Slowly, she placed her hands in his. He pulled up the sleeves slowly, seeing the white bandages wrapped clumsily around her wrists. "What happened?" She shook her head, tears filling her eyes again, rendering her speechless. He stood up, lifting her with him as she wound her arms around his neck, her petite body wrapped tightly around his as he shuffled slowly towards where the first aid equipment was stored. He pulled out another roll of bandages and carried the blonde over to the couch, rolling the sleeves of the oversized hoodie up again. "Well, let me clean it and wrap it properly, whatever it is." Bloodstained bandages fell away to reveal angry red, bleeding slashes down her wrists to her forearms. Blood crept slowly down her arm as Oliver pulled the bandages away. "These are pretty deep. You want me to stitch them up? They'll probably heal better that way." She paused, looking down and her wrists, and nodded. He put pressure on the wounds, wincing with her as she whimpered and sobbed in pain. When he had staunched the flow of blood, he applied an anaesthetic ointment and looked her in the eyes. "Ready?" She nodded, and hid her face in his chest as he stitched up the cuts as quickly as possible. He wrapped her arms neatly with new, sterile bandages and took the used, bloody ones in a bowl to dispose of them accordingly, scrubbing his hands in hot water. He sighed as he cleaned up. "We need to talk about this, you know."
"I know." She said, her voice hoarse from crying. He looked up as she spoke. He dried his hands and sat back down, pulling her into his lap again. She produced a card from the pocket of his hoodie and handed it to him wordlessly.
"You did this because of a high school reunion?" He asked, blinking in surprise. He cupped her face in his warm hands. "You don't have to go..."
"I had a rough time in high school." She said, smiling sadly. A rogue tear slipped down her face. He wiped it away gently. "I was made fun of and had no friends." He kissed her forehead gently and wrapped his arms around her again, and she rested her head on his chest.
"I can take you." He said, after a long pause. "Oliver Queen can take you." He murmured, resting his chin on the top of her head.
"Should I even go?" She asked uncertainly, eyes closed. The day had drained her, emotionally.
"Yes. You should show them what they missed out on in high school, that all the guys who ignored you had a beautiful, intelligent, radiant goddess under their noses the entire time. And that I get you now. And you're all mine." He growled as he nuzzled her cheek. She giggled quietly, placing a soft kiss on warm lips.
"Okay."
"M'lady." He bowed, handing her into his low-slung, red Ferrari. She laughed at his antics.
"You look so good tonight. Not that you don't look good all the time. But like, tonight you put in an extra effort. So you look extra good. 3...2...1." She looked towards the sky as she tried to calm her erratic rambling. The billionaire placed a warm, comforting hand on hers.
"You'll be fine. You'll smile and let me deal with the people who were mean to you. And everybody will look at you in awe." He pecked her cheek as he started the car.
"Wow, Smoak. You look great." A leering, broad-shouldered man waddled up to her, placing a hand on her forearm. She snatched her hand away, smoothing down her short, black, long-sleeved dress.
"Thank you, Greg. Aren't you married?" She inquired, staring at her toes, waiting for Oliver to come back with drinks.
"Divorced. It didn't work out with Jenna. I'm in the market. You looking?" He grinned widely, showing his teeth. His suit was ill-fitting, not tailored to his wide, but short form. Flashbacks and memories of being shoved out of the way down hallways rose to the front of her mind as she tried to find an excuse to leave. She clenched her teeth as tears threatened to rise to the surface.
"She's taken." A reassuring arm wrapped around her waist as she breathed a sigh of relief. "Sorry, darling. Nothing you would have liked. I'll open some red when we get home. Oliver Queen. And you are?" He extended his hand politely.
"Greg Thompson. I was just on my way to find someone. Nice to see you again, Smoak."
"Her name's Felicity." Oliver offered politely, smiling benignly as the man almost tripped over himself to leave. He heard a small giggle at his side. "What? I was perfectly nice to him." He smiled innocently at the blonde.
"Yes, a perfect saint." She placed a soft kiss on his chin. "Thank you."
"For not beating him up? The night's still young. Plenty of time for that." He winked at her, tugging her closer to him by the waist.
"Felicity!" A high-pitched squeal pierced the air as the petite blonde gasped in fear.
"Oliver..." She murmured, looking imploringly into his eyes.
"Who is she?" He muttered into her ear.
"She bullied me. Every day. Until I had to start taking anti-depressants and was on suicide watch." She panicked. He placed a gentle kiss on her forehead, his hand making smooth, comforting circles on her back.
"Don't be afraid, just relax. I'm right here. She can't hurt you." His thumb discreetly swiped away a crystalline tear that had escaped the corner of her eye.
"Hey, Jenna." Felicity muttered, less than enthused. The tall, leggy brunette was wearing a short skirt that bordered on trashy. "How have you been?"
"Clearly nowhere as good as you have." Jenna's eyes ran up and down the billionaire's form. "You really hit the jackpot, didn't you? MIT and a gorgeous billionaire?" A discreet note of venom was injected into her voice as the brunette placed a hand on Oliver's shoulder. He moved away slightly, extending his hand.
"I'm the lucky one. Oliver Queen. And you are?" He smiled, keeping his arm wrapped securely around Felicity's waist.
"Jenna Cyrus." She purred, holding on to his hand for longer than was necessary. The billionaire extricated his hand and smiled patronizingly.
"It was nice to meet you. Are you here with anyone?"
"My ex. Greg. We just got divorced." She grinned, her smile predatory.
"That's too bad. How long were you together?" He inquired politely, making sure there was space between the brunette and himself.
"5 years. It wasn't working. But now I have time for other...ventures."
"Well, Felicity and I have been together for 2." He smiled lovingly down at the IT expert and kissed her softly. "Nice meeting you." Still smiling, he steered Felicity away.
"That was fun." She muttered, shaking her head in anger. "I hope she knows you're mine." She stopped, placed both hands on the sides of his face a kissed him passionately.
"Well, if she didn't know before, she does now." Oliver said hoarsely, clearing his throat and looking a little dazed. The blonde smiled internally, victorious over her nemesis.
"As much fun as that was, I don't think anybody in that room appreciated you as much as I do." Oliver laughed, as he handed her a cup of coffee in the Queens' kitchen. He cut his laughter short as he noticed Felicity's downcast eyes. "Felicity? You okay?" He placed a finger under her chin and tilted her face upward. Tears filled her eyes and spilled over, running in black streaks down her face.
"I just...it brought me back to a place I thought I was done with." She stammered, sadness rearing its head to seize her heart, wrapping its vice grip around the organ so she could barely breathe.
"Come here." He lifted her, bridal-style, up the stairs and into his bedroom, settling her into his lap as she buried her face in his neck, sobbing painfully. He held her, arms wrapped around her tight, until her sobs faded into hiccoughs, and until her hiccoughs faded into slow, even breaths. "I love you, Felicity Smoak. I have, these past two years, and I will continue to love you, if you let me. What those people say is their business, and doesn't apply to the amazing person you are, and you've become." She lifted her head, looking his eyes.
"Really?"
"Really." He nodded.
"Thank you. For everything. I love you." And with that, she kissed him.
