Disclaimer – I do not own Arrow.
She didn't even know how she managed to get home; she couldn't for the life of her remember the drive or even getting out of the car.
The fact that she did should be something she was grateful for, but she couldn't seem to muster up a positive reaction towards anything.
There was no way she would make it to the foundry tonight, let alone the office today, the team and Oliver be damned. Not that they would notice her not being there in the first place.
She was always sidelined anyway, pushed aside out of danger like a child or just moved out of the way in general.
Most of what the doctor had said was wiped clean from her memory, but distinct words such as 'Addison's disease' and 'fatal' stuck in her mind as if they had neon lights attached to them.
Words that she feared she would never forget in her lifetime. However long that may be.
She had gotten lost amongst the technical jargon that the doctor had thrown at her, and it was only when she had broken down in tears that the doctor slowed down and explained to her what was happening with her body. The cause for her weight loss she had failed to notice, her skin being sickly pale.
Only when the doctor had started rattling off symptoms such as vomiting and fatigue did she really realize just how much she had missed. How many signs that her body was deteriorating she had overlooked. How little she had cared about herself over this past year.
Apparently without her knowledge she had been having issues with her adrenal glands, glands that were meant to help the body recover from stress. As they degenerated over time and her stress levels increased her body was slowly starting to shut down to the point of being almost fatal.
He did explain that she could recover if she looked after herself with the right medication and avoidance of stress, but how could she explain to him that her whole life revolved around stressful situations? That the IT specialist of the Arrow didn't really have a choice in her stress levels? That it was part of the job?
But she was stuck with this disease for life.
And would have to be on medication for life.
She knew she couldn't walk away from the Arrow business. Knew that what they did was important, that they put their lives on the line everyday to save the people of this city.
She was just doing it differently.
So she didn't shoot arrows at people like Oliver, wasn't a professional sniper like Digg or an ex assassin like Sarah.
She still couldn't just walk away.
When he had asked for her emergency contact details she had broken down into tears again. With no family and only Team Arrow to call friends who did she really have?
Oliver? The man she was sleeping with because she was too weak to so no to him even though she knew she was nothing more than a willing body to him?
Digg? He had a pregnant Lyla to worry about; he didn't need her problems on top of everything else.
Roy? The boy would help but he couldn't keep a secret from Oliver if he tried, and Oliver would beat it out of him if he resisted anyway.
And Sarah? The warped canary that was almost as damaged as Oliver? Well at least she wouldn't spill the beans on her. But she wasn't an option either.
No, she had no family, and she told the doctor as much through her tears.
Now that she was home she let the damn break again, no longer seeing the point of holding back the tears that had been threatening to overflow since leaving the hospital.
She was mentally and physically drained. Exhausted to the point of pain.
No, she would not be going to the foundry tonight. She'd feign sick, she thought with a snort. That wasn't even out of the realm of possibility anymore.
Too tired to even undress, she laid down on her bed on top of her covers, not caring about how uncomfortable the position was.
She had cried herself to sleep before, there was no reason she wouldn't be able to do so again.
~::F~O::~
When she hadn't made it to the office he was concerned.
When she hadn't called him or Digg he was worried.
When she failed to show up to the foundry he was distressed.
When her phone went straight to voicemail he was tormented by all the thoughts that ran through his mind of what could have happened to her. From kidnappings to car accidents, thousands of scenarios played out in his mind, each one worse than the last.
Around midnight he was sick of waiting for answers and headed to her apartment, hoping for whatever reason that she was stuck there and out of harms way.
What they had been doing was wrong. He knew it tore her apart every single time they were together. Every time he sought her out.
But he couldn't not have her. He couldn't refuse himself the only light that he had in his life.
His life was too twisted for her to be in it, but she was already so firmly in place in every aspect that he wasn't even sure were she ended and he began anymore.
He could only imagine that if she was the light of his life he was the darkness in hers. The darkness that was slowly swallowing her whole.
He didn't fail to notice her light dimming with each day, the pain of it burned in his chest everyday.
Everyday he had a glimmer of hope that she would call him and tell him that she would not be coming back. That she was moving away from him, and Arrow and everything bad in their lives. Leaving this damned life behind for good.
But he had always been a selfish man, and he couldn't be the one to let her go. She had to be the one to walk away because he knew deep in his heart he wasn't strong enough. Wasn't strong enough to tell her to leave. Or to watch her as she walked away from him.
He needed the hours spent with her like he needed air to breathe.
She never asked why, and he never told her. It was their secret unspoken agreement, always under the dark cloak of the night.
So he went to her apartment, and knocked on her bedroom window as he had done countless times before from her rickety fire escape.
Only this time she didn't come and open the latch for him. Didn't greet him with the silence he craved and warm open arms that he had learned would give him peace.
He saw her form on the bed on top of the bed covers facing away from him, and for a brief moment he felt relief that she was finally rejecting him. Finally putting herself first and escaping the darkness that was steadily engulfing her.
He was almost in the process of turning away from watching her when he saw her shoulders shaking by the light shining into her apartment from the moon.
He wasn't sure if she was in the middle of a nightmare or whether she was crying, regardless of the motive he was quick to break the lock on her window and enter her bedroom, for the first time without permission.
He crept around her bed to face her and realized she was crying but still completely asleep, obviously in the throws of a nightmare.
And thoughts of her not coming into the foundry and not picking up his calls, even the anger and frustration that he had felt, flew out the window as soon as he saw her face in so much pain and agony.
It tore at the empty hole in his chest where his heart should have been.
He couldn't stop his feet from moving towards her, his knees from getting on the foot of the bed, his body from lying on the covers and his arms from encircling her.
Or his lips from murmuring words into her ear to wake up from her nightmare.
To tell her that she was safe.
To tell her that he was here.
To tell her to come back to him.
I tried to simplify the medical stuff as much as possible so that my brain could work around it and so it's easier for everyone to understand. Addison's disease does actually exist and it can be fatal, my apologies to people that suffer from it or have friends/loved ones that are healing from it – please stay strong.
Anyway hope you enjoyed (as much as you can 'enjoy' an angsty piece).
Your reviews have been amazing already. Thank you.
Love to all – Stace
