/

"I'm pregnant, Tommy," Felicity's voice shook uncontrollably as she spoke, pacing the room. "I didn't know until yesterday. Oliver...He didn't know either. I mean, how could he have known if I didn't even know?" Her eyes were red and her usually neat hair was out of place. Tommy had arrived about fifteen minutes ago, after continuously calling her throughout the day, to no avail. He'd needed to see for himself that she was okay.

Maybe he'd also been desperate for some company too, specifically that of someone who understood what he was going through; how he felt as though a part of him no longer belonged to him anymore. He really couldn't go to Laurel, could he?

She was grieving too. This was her ex boyfriend who'd died, along with her little sister and…Laurel just wasn't Laurel anymore.

She'd shut off, completely.

It was an out of body experience for all of the,. As far as he and Oliver had been concerned, they were brothers. Biology hadn't mattered in their case.

"He's gone and I'm all alone," continued the blonde. "I- I have to raise his baby on my own. Without him. Man, oh, man, I'm going to screw up. Big time. I'm not ready for this! I can't-"

"Hell no!" exclaimed Tommy, rising to his feet and rushing to her side. Pulling her towards him, he embraced her, his hand casually resting on the small of her back. "You're not alone, F..." He was surprised how he could even speak. "You have me. Moira is going to be ecstatic, and so is Thea. Laurel and I'll probably end up fighting over who gets to spend more time with Ollie Junior and we're all going to pull through for him, okay?" He paused only when Felicity slightly warmed to his embrace and hesitantly placed her head on his shoulder.

"I need him," she whimpered; her arms wrapped around his neck. "I can't do this without him."

I need him too, thought Tommy mournfully. "This isn't going to be easy," he admitted, toying with a strand of her hair, "but you have me. You have us and I think we'll make a pretty damn good support team. Between all of us, you won't have to do this on your own." He wasn't going to let her do this on her own. What kind of man would he be if he allowed his best friend's son... or daughter to suffer just because Oliver wasn't going to be a part of his or her life?

Uncle T to the rescue, he thought disdainfully. He'd always disliked kids but now wasn't the time to dwell about it. This was different. This wasn't his kid. This was his best friend's kid; a kid that deserved to know about his dad.

"I'm here for you," he continued.

Felicity shook her head. "I appreciate the sentiment, Tommy," she choked out. "But I need Oliver. It's like someone's pulled my heart out and stabbed it. Repeatedly. I feel empty. Completely hollow. Which itself is strange seeing how a kid is inside me at the moment but that's not the point. I'll be a shitty mother. I already know that I've failed myself. I mean, come on, do you really think I'll be able to go back to college this fall?" How she was going to raise a human being and get an education at the same time, seemed beyond her. She was scared shitless. It seemed like obstacles were throwing themselves at her left, right and center. "My baby won't have a father." Her voice wavered towards the end.

"This won't count for a lot, Felicity," he began seriously. Seriousness was a strange feeling to a man who didn't even know the meaning of the word until he'd lost his best friend. Tommy didn't ever care about anything- he didn't give a damn about responsibilities and lived a perpetual bachelor's life. He lived to live; lived to party, lived to drown in music and alcohol, lived for the mere sake of living- to go through the motions of life- not that there was any meaning to existence, or so he thought. Tommy didn't believe that he had a purpose, "but your baby may not have a father... and I'm surely not a replacement of any kind but… I'm here and I'm going to stay here. No matter what happens. Your son or daughter won't have to go through what you did, okay?"

He recalled being told that Felicity's father - an army man - was killed in action when she had been two.

Tommy's eyes began to water as he saw Felicity's lower lip tremble at his declaration. Unable to deal with emotions of any sort, he headed out. Leaning against the wall outside Felicity's bedroom, he took a deep breath, hoping he'd calm down. But he couldn't. He couldn't control the anger that coursed through him in that moment. If anyone should have died, it should have been me, he thought; ready to pound his fist against something. Oliver didn't deserve this. He'd been getting his act together.

'It should have been you,' whispers a voice at the back of Tommy's head and he just can't take it anymore.

Catching sight of a flower display in the hallway, he picked up the vase and tossed it down the hall, watching in satisfaction as the expensive glass shattered into pieces.

/

Felicity was on auto-pilot. She didn't know where she was going. She knew she was heading towards Oliver, who was most probably in a private room at Starling City General. She was going to be with him in a short while. She'd be able to confirm that he was there, alive. He was breathing. Waiting for her. He was okay.

She needed to see him. Desperately.

Tommy gripped her hand tightly as he directed her to Oliver's room, both of them running as fast as their feet could possibly carry them. Oliver was alive.

He was alive.

She couldn't believe it; wouldn't believe it till she saw him and was seated by his side. Her heart was ready to fly out of her chest at the rate it was soaring.

"Is this it?" questioned Felicity once Tommy abruptly paused at a door.

The man standing at the door nodded at her while Tommy shrunk back. "Diggle?" he said in confusion.

John Diggle nodded once again. "As per Mrs. Steele's instructions, I'm to be her son's personal bodyguard from this point on –" his voice trailed off as he relayed Moira's words to Tommy. "She called me as soon as Mr. Queen arrived in the perimeters of this building."

"I see," replied Tommy thoughtfully, sparing a glance at Felicity, who (by the looks of it) was close to doing something drastic. Like perhaps thinking of ways how to knock down the door – the current barrier – between her and Oliver. He turned to her. "I think you should go in first," he said, knowing how desperately she wanted to be with Oliver. "I'll come in a while."

"Are you sure you don't want to be there?" she asked.

"Nah," smiled Tommy, bursting with happiness. "I'll go next." He wanted her to go in on her own. She deserved that much. Needed it. He wanted it for her.

"Okay."

Her hand reached the door knob and in a flash, she was in the room.

He was sleeping, she realized, as soon as she caught view of him. Propped up with an army of pillows behind him, her Oliver was sleeping. He looked the same, was her conclusion as she did a mental inventory of how he looked the last time she saw him and comparing him to now. He seemed okay. Physically, at least, she amended. A shudder ran through her spine as she caught sight of a deep gash on his arm. It was covered in some sort of ointment and had healed to an extent but still, it looked painful. How had he gotten hurt? Were there more injuries?

Oh Oliver, she thought, inching closer to him, her hand cautiously reaching for his face. 'What did you go through? Will you be okay?'

Please be okay.

Her stomach did somersaults as she moved towards him, making space for herself on his bed. Her other hand almost instinctively caught a hold of his and her whole body froze as they touched. She gently placed her head down on his chest, reveling in his familiar scent as she climbed next to him, wrapping one arm around it. It was still the same as she remembered. It had changed slightly since she'd last seen him but it was still the same too. He was different and yet, he was the same. He wasn't who he'd been when he died…left…disappeared, she thought, but at the same time, he was still Oliver. Her Oliver.

He was home.

And now so was she.