A few words:
This is going to be a relatively short story, where Olicity IS endgame. I guarantee it. There's no angst. Or too much drama. I intend for it to be cutesy stuff.
Notes: Ray and Felicity aren't IN love. Laurel and Oliver are together. For now. But it's temporary.
Oliver and Felicity will be in love and together as this story finishes.
With that being said, enjoy.
"Why won't he stop crying?" wails Felicity as she sits on the floor, clutching her son to her chest, close to tears herself, watching the little baby sob his eyes out, despite her best efforts to calm him down. Milk bottle in one hand and baby in the other, she pleads with him. "Connor. Please. Please stop." She's too far distressed to even realise that she's begging a six month old to listen to her. "Tell Mama what's wrong." A tear trickles down her cheek as the sobs become louder.
"Felicity!" exclaims her son's father, as he strides into the apartment, dumping his book bag near the door, alarm evident in his voice as well as on his face, as he rushes into the nursery.
"Ray," Felicity breathes out. "Oh thank god you're here." Her face crumples as she bursts into tears at the sight of him.
Ray's heart sinks as he takes in Felicity and Connor. They both look so unhappy. Miserable, even.
Sighing, he bends and squeezes her shoulder before reaching for the baby, taking him into his own arms, as Felicity continues to sit there on the floor, her body shaking with sobs of her own.
"He won't stop crying," she says between pauses.
Ray cradles his son, rocking him back and forth, whispering into Connor's ears, gently shushing the boy.
The cries quieten. Almost instantly.
Connor's face starts to go back to normal. The redness dissipates. In ten minutes, there's utter silence in the air- which makes Felicity want to cry even more than she already is.
Ray gently places Connor in the crib before turning back to extend a hand to Felicity, who reluctantly takes it. Pulling her to her feet, he guides her out of the room and into the living room. Seating her on the couch, he wipes away her tears. "I'm sorry," he says.
"I can't do this anymore," she can't believe what she's saying yet she's saying it. "Ray. My son hates me."
"He doesn't," comes his reply. "He loves you." He pauses. "But he's a baby and babies can tell when their mothers are upset. It upsets them. Something is clearly bothering you and he's probably sensed it-"
Felicity considers this.
"You want to tell me what's going on?" he continues.
"I'm just so tired," she mumbles, pulling her knees up to her chest. "Between classes and work and-"
"I wish you'd leave your job," says Ray. "I want to take care of you. Both of you." Besides the money he'd inherited from his parents' estate, he worked part-time at Merlyn Global, as a research assistant in the science division.
Money really wasn't a problem. But Felicity wasn't going to accept any of his- at least not if he spent it on her. She was okay with him taking care of Connor's expenses, as he rightfully should, considering he was his father.
"I think I will," Felicity's voice is low and her head is hung glow as she says this. "I'm a failure."
"You sure as hell aren't a failure," Ray says so loudly that she's startled slightly. "I know you, Smoak." He knows that they're in a difficult situation, what with being in college and being sleep deprived parents that are just always exhausted, however as unstable and chaotic as things appear to be, there is one thing he is sure of-
Felicity is an amazing woman. Blonde, blue eyed and beautiful, she has both beauty and brains. She did win a scholarship to MIT.
Their situation isn't ideal but they're trying to make do with what they have. They love each other and their son but they aren't in love, per say. Felicity and Ray are a team. Partners. Equals. And they're going to tackle this parenthood business together- as difficult as it is now and as difficult as it is going to be in the future, when their boy is going to be old enough to ask questions about why his parents had him so young.
Explaining things isn't going to be easy, what with words like 'broken condom', 'missed period' and 'high school sweethearts', entering the equation, Ray thinks with a shudder.
However for the time being, he has an emotionally distraught baby mama to deal with. "You're fucking brilliant," he tells her honestly but the moment he sees another tear trickle down her cheek, he internally curses himself.
He and Felicity should've stayed friends.
They shouldn't have dated. Or had irresponsible sex. Or become teenager parents.
"I believe in you," he adds on, reminding his best friend slash ex girlfriend that he really does have high expectations of her. With her mind, he really does believe that she's capable of doing anything and taking on everything she puts her mind to. "Connor's lucky to have you." He silently hopes and prays to any and every god in the universe that Felicity doesn't lose her spirit with all that she has to balance; all that she has to do and all that she has to be.
She doesn't reply for a full ten minutes before she quietly tells Ray to stay the night (which is more of a formality, an invitation of sorts, considering how her son's father has been spending the night at her apartment- in Connor's nursery and perhaps on occasion, sprawled across her bed- for the last few months anyway, no invitation required)
He tells her to get some sleep. She smiles gratefully, gets up and goes to her room, ready to throw herself into bed. For a few hours, at least.
Ray sighs and leans back against the leather couch, watching Felicity as she heads down the hall.
'I really should've missed this evening's Econ class', he thinks, feeling guilty for being gone practically the whole day.
He considers dropping a class or two, wanting to help out more with his son. He vows to work on it.
Then he rises, heading towards the door to collect his bag to get started on some assignment only for Connor's piercing cry to echo through the apartment.
Meanwhile:
"I really don't know what I want out of life," says Oliver, his voice casual, not at all indicative of the tension coursing through him, as he and his girlfriend sit face to face, hands tightly clasped together, as they wait for their order to be served at Big Belly Burger.
Laurel smiles easily. "You'll figure it out," she says easily.
Oliver doesn't respond, not knowing how to tell his girlfriend that he really has no clue about what he wants to do. He really wishes she'd understand or try to relate to the universal struggle of 'not figuring things out' but then again this is his girlfriend he's talking to; Laurel who's know that she's wanted to be an attorney ever since she was thirteen years old, Laurel- who really hasn't ever lost her way. Laurel- who despite divorced parents and family drama has thrived through pain.
Unlike him.
He swallows the bile that is rising up his throat as an image of his mother being in bed with his best friend's father surfaces before his eyes.
His best friend's father.
Who also happens to be his little sister's biological dad too.
Fate has a twisted sense of humour, thinks Oliver, thinking back to all those times where he and Tommy wished they were actual brothers. Well, now they share a sibling- that is as close as it can get.
Sensing his despair, Laurel squeezes Oliver's hand tightly. "It'll be okay," she says quietly, looking around the empty diner. They'd chosen it for privacy. What with the scandal surrounding the Queens, it wasn't the best of ideas to be in public. But since BBB was secluded enough and in a part of town that no one visited (at this time of night, at least), they were safe from prying eyes (and paparazzi)
"Will we be okay?"
Laurel's heart constricts. She swallows. "Of course," she lies, not wanting to think of the pain that would follow once Oliver would leave for Harvard, (a semester and a half late for his freshman year) and she'd be back in Berkley- without him.
Following the drama with his parents and Mr Merlyn, Oliver had packed his bags and taken off to Cali to be with Laurel. She went to school. He waited for her. She came home. She studied. He partied, sometimes with her, sometimes without her.
She makes him feel good- even though the emptiness and betrayal in his heart really doesn't leaving him alone. Although he really hasn't been facing the unavoidable (the whole nasty business with his mother's affair and following scandal and revelation about his little sister's paternity), Oliver is happy- with Laurel.
They were good together.
They are good together. Happy, even.
Laurel takes a sip of her milkshake. "Have you heard from Tommy?" She asks in concern, moving on from other painful topics.
The furious look on Oliver's face shows her that she really shouldn't have asked about his MIA best friend. "No," comes Oliver's terse reply.
Tommy is gone. No one knows where or how or if he's okay. They just know that he's gone. His credit cards and trust fund lay untouched and Oliver knows for a fact that Malcolm is worried sick, not that he gives two shits about that man.
Oliver himself is ready to throttle the private investigator he's secretly hired, who has yet to have any trace of the one and only trust fund baby slash billionaire that goes by the name of Thomas Merlyn.
"He's irresponsible!" exclaims Laurel, "But he isn't stupid, Ollie. What if he's in trouble-" her voice trails off uneasily, trying to not imagine Tommy laying dead in some ditch. She knows his disappearance is serious, maybe it even goes beyond his dad's affair with Oliver's mom, maybe it isn't because he can't deal with the fact that Oliver's little sister is also his little sister...maybe he's just in trouble. Maybe instead of giving him his space, Oliver should really go find his brother of sorts.
Oliver's head hangs low. "I just don't know anything anymore," he says.
Boarding pass in one hand and jacket in the other, Oliver boards a late night flight to New York, where he plans to stay the night, before driving down to Harvard the following morning.
A teary eyed Laurel kisses him at the airport as they say their goodbyes.
Boston, be warned. Oliver Queen is coming to town.
Review please. Reviews are MY lifeline.
Ps: I've found renewed strength to start writing again. If my uncle's recent passing has taught me anything, life is too short to not do what makes me happy. FF makes me happy. So I'm going to write more now.
Thanks for reading!