Title: No One Else
Author: some1lostme
Rating: K
Summary: Felicity and Oliver share an experience that no one else can understand. He is the only one who knows what she's been through and she now has a much more intimate understanding of what exactly he survived on the island.
Spoilers: 2x09 "Three Ghosts"
Disclaimer: Of course, I don't own Arrow or any of these characters. I'm just borrowing them and promise to return them unharmed.
Chapter Two
Three days after they found her she is discharged from the hospital. She's seen Diggle every day that she's been here but Oliver hasn't returned. He was there that first day, she'd confirmed with Digg that she hadn't imagined it, but she hasn't seen him since.
Not that she can blame him. She hadn't been able to talk to him then. She hadn't even been able to look at him. Even after he'd apologized, after he'd blamed himself for what had happened to her, she hadn't been able to meet his eyes. She'd heard the pain in his voice, she'd heard the regret. But she hadn't been able to tell him that she didn't blame him, at least not entirely. To say that he wasn't somewhat at fault wouldn't have been fair. He was the reason that she was always in danger. He had pulled her into his life without really consulting her first. Although, if she were really being honest with herself, she would've stepped to his side willingly.
Sighing, she puts on the new glasses that Digg had left for her. She doesn't want to think about what has happened to her old ones. She also doesn't want to go back to the mess that was her apartment. That was where they'd come from her. Two men in masks had ambushed her as she'd come home from a late night at Verdant. She'd fought for her life, using everything that she'd learned from Oliver and Digg but it had been useless. She'd been fighting men three times her size, men who'd clearly been injected with the same serum as Roy. She hadn't stood a chance against them.
Digg is picking her up, he'd promised to be there, but there is a large part of her that hopes Oliver will really be the one to show up. She misses him. She misses him more than she should but it can't be helped. They haven't spoken since she was taken and the only thing that she'd been able to think about when those men had been hurting her was him. She had waited for him to come for her. She had known that he would. And when he'd come, when she'd seen him in that warehouse, she'd wanted his arms around her. She had wanted it to be him carrying her away from that place.
She understands why it hadn't been him, though. Slade needed to be stopped. He needed to be stopped before he went after Mrs. Queen or Thea. He needed to be stopped before he killed someone that Oliver loved. The first time she'd woken to Digg in her room, he'd explained without her asking that Oliver had only left her to find Slade. As far as she knows, he has yet to be found.
She wishes that he were there, that she could have the opportunity to talk to him, but he has been avoiding her. She can't be sure why but a part of her is worried that he is staying away because he knows that she understands now. Their experiences, while so very different, have their similarities. She may not have spent five years trying to survive on an island with killers but she was tortured. Tortured by men who were out to hurt Oliver. She knows that he feels guilty but he has to know that she needs him, that he is the only person who could possibly understand how afraid she'd been. How afraid she still is.
She has realized that he is much stronger than any of them have ever given him credit for. Everyone assumes that it was a miracle that he'd survived on that island alone for as long as he had but they couldn't possibly understand that it was so much more than that. He hadn't been alone. He had been tortured. He'd been in hell. And he'd survived. He'd come home and even though he certainly wasn't the same man that he had been, it was clear to her that he was a better man. She's seen his scars. Whatever they had done to him, it was ten times worse than what had been done to her and she understood now. She got it. It really was a miracle that he had survived. It was a miracle that he'd lived, let alone that he had actually survived. He is so much stronger than anyone really knew.
She has just pulled a sweater over her tank top, wincing slightly as her stitches pull, when the knock comes at the door.
"Come in," she calls, knowing full well that it's Digg coming to rescue her again.
She hadn't known until just that morning but there have been armed guards posted outside of her room since she'd been moved. She knows without a doubt that it had been Oliver's doing. He is protecting her in the best way her knows how. The best way that doesn't involve him coming back to the hospital, at least.
She gives John a tired smile as he steps into the room. Her body aches everywhere. She has been practically bedridden for three days, hardly able to sit up let alone drag herself from her bed. Just the short trips she's made to the bathroom and back have exhausted her so she knows that the walk to the car is going to be difficult. Diggle understands though because he is pushing a wheelchair as he comes in. She laughs.
"It's a good thing I can't hide anything from you," she says, dropping heavily into the chair, "If Oliver were here, I'd have made him carry me. He's got those arms and he smells good and it'd be nice if he'd actually shown up."
She should've filtered that small piece of information but it's too late now. Diggle stays quiet as he wheels her toward the bank of elevators. She is certain that Digg already knows how she feels about Oliver, how she shouldn't feel about him, but he is kind enough not to make a big deal out of it. She hardly admits it to herself, let alone anyone else, but she has feelings for him, feelings one shouldn't have for their boss.
"The glasses look good, Felicity," he tells her a few moments later as he helps her into the car, "When did you get them?"
She angles herself in the passenger's seat, careful not to pull her stitches again, and stares at him wide-eyed.
"I thought you brought them."
He shakes his head, "Wasn't me."
The only other person who'd been allowed within ten feet of her hospital room apart from the staff had been Oliver. But it couldn't have been him. It couldn't have. She hadn't seen him since the day she'd been admitted. He hadn't come back. Why would he have brought her new glasses? When would he have brought them?
"Felicity, he was here every day. He's been sitting in the hallway outside of your room, grilling everyone going in and out."
"But… why?"
She can't say anything else. There isn't anything else to say. Why had he been avoiding her? It was hard enough thinking that he hadn't come around but to know that he'd been right outside her door and hadn't thought to come in and ask how she was, it hurt her. It hurt more than she was willing to admit.
"He doesn't know what to do, Felicity. He blames himself for all of this, for everything that's happened. He feels responsible."
She is silent. She doesn't know what to say. She wants Oliver. She wants to see him, to talk to him. She doesn't want to talk to Digg about this anymore.
They pull up in front of her apartment building and she waits for him to come around to her side of the car, helping her out with an arm around her waist. It is a long journey up two flights of stairs before they are standing in front of her door. She stops Digg with a hand on his arm.
"I think maybe I should just go to a hotel, hire someone to clean the place up first. I'm really not up for seeing the mess those assholes left behind when they kidnapped me."
He pulls his hand free, unlocking the door, and allowing it to swing open in front of them. What she sees surprises her. Her apartment looks as good as new. The debris has been removed, everything returned to its correct position. Her coffee table, which had been broken in the scuffle, has been replaced. She is even more surprised by the man that she sees standing at the window overlooking the street. He keeps his back to them as Digg helps her further into the apartment. When she is settled comfortably – as comfortably as possible anyway – on the sofa, Digg exits with a quiet goodbye. She is alone with the one person she has been longing to see for days but she doesn't even know where to begin.
"What are you doing here?" she asks eventually, "Not that I don't want you here, I do, but I don't understand what's going on."
Finally, he turns, his face a mask. He is good at hiding his emotions, he always has been, but now is not the time for masks. They need to talk, really talk, and she is going to force him to whether he's ready for it or not.
