Disclaimer: I do not own anything. The Arrow belongs to DC/CW.
A Dream is a Wish you Heart Makes
It was during those dreary moments, while on a stakeout on a rainy night or while hiding for hours from the Russian police, that he allowed himself to daydream.
He dreamed of going home to his mother and sister, of being able to alleviate some of the pain in his mom's heart, to be the strong shoulder she could lean against; to help Thea fight her demons and to give anyone who dared to taint her innocence a swift kick in the ass.
He dreamed of Tommy: the best friend who went looking for him to the ends of the world. The one with whom he'd pulled the most ridiculous pranks, with whom he shared both his worst and best memories before Lian Yu. He dreamed of sharing a beer with him, of telling him about his time in Purgatory, of sharing his burdens with the man who was his brother in all but blood.
He dreamed of Laurel, the woman he loved. He dreamed of gaining her forgiveness, of helping her grieve for her sister's loss. He imagined being finally able to be the Ollie she deserved, the man she saw in the boy he had been. He dreamed of the family they could have, of Sunday dinners with the Queens, the Lances and the Merlins.
He dreamed of fulfilling his father's last wish. Of saving his city from the machinations of vicious people who'd have Starling City destroyed in order to line their pockets with blood money. He dreamed of following in his footsteps at QC, of being the son he should have been to make his father proud.
He dreamed of smiles and laughter and joy and love.
And then he'd be thrown back into the hell that had become his reality.
He was a murderer, a broken man with hardly a soul and heart left to save. A man who saw threats and targets instead of human beings, a killer who felt little to no remorse for the lives taken in the name of the so-called greater good. He knew he could never go back. He could not, and would not, brings his demons back to the people he loved the most. They were better off without him.
And little by little he forced himself to stop dreaming. Why should he torture himself with a light he would never reach? He was lost in the darkness inside of him.
Yet sometimes, while fast asleep, he'd have a different dream, a distant memory he couldn't quite place. In the darkness, he saw glimpses of a light. The sadness and anger and guilt would be temporarily drowned by a little bit of hope. He'd dream of listening to her while she talked nonsense, of seeing her blush and fidget. And he would wake up smiling in the morning sunlight, even though he could not understand why.
Oh, he recalled her: the blue eyes, the cute glasses, the blond hair, the endearingly silly babbling and the shapely legs, especially the shapely legs. Yet, she was a complete stranger to him. Why he kept dreaming of her was a complete mystery to him. He chalked it up to hormones and not getting laid since…and there's the guilt again.
Oliver never did know his heart well. Still, it kept dreaming.
Oh that scene where Oliver spies on Felicity in the QC building while on that assignment for Waller….such a throwback to the sweet little Olicity moments of season 1 & 2….and this is what happens when u watch Cinderella (the animated version of 1950) at 4 am :P
All mistakes are mine, thanks for reading and do please review!