Author's Note: The person who provided me with my Russian translation appears to have deleted their account, so I'm back to depending on the internet. If my uses are incorrect, please let me know so I can change them. You'll find the translations I'm working with in the end notes.

кошмар

Felicity sat up in bed, gasping for breath as she throttled back a scream. A trembling hand scrabbled for the lamp switch and tear-filled eyes flashed to every shadow, scanned every corner as golden light flooded through the room. It felt as though her heart would gallop right out of her chest, it beat at such a fast pace. "Nightmare," she murmured to herself. "Just a nightmare."

Just a nightmare…again…for the third time in a week.

The thought crossed her mind – as it had before, as it would again – to wonder if she was going to make it until the Triad was driven out of Starling City. How long had she been living here now? Three months…maybe a little more? She knew it would take time, knew they couldn't just flip a switch and make everything better, but the longer she remained, the more she worried. Everyday her life grew more and more entwined with the Queens…and this wasn't her world. She didn't belong in the world of the ultra-rich, ultra-famous, and ultra-powerful. Felicity Meghan Smoak belonged in her middle-class, computer cubicle doing her best to work her way towards a better place and a better salary while doing a job she loved. Instead she spent time reworking the security system with the guards. She found herself playing sounding board for Walter Steele and his ideas for the technology department. Some evenings she would spend the entire time helping Moira make phone calls to line up volunteers and donations for this or that charity. More important, she found herself stepping in as the big sister to a brilliant, mischievous teenage girl who couldn't seem to connect with her own family anymore – though that seemed to be changing when it came to Oliver. He'd taken Felicity's advice and started doing things with his sister throughout the week, some planned, some not, but Thea blossomed and sparkled with the attention.

Oliver appeared to be relaxing as well with each new outing or activity.

"At least I made some kind of difference," she muttered, worried about how to make sure the two of them kept making time for each other. Thea needed to know she was important while Oliver needed the reminder that work wasn't everything – no matter how important. Then she shook her head. "What am I doing?" she wondered out loud. "This isn't my family!"

Oliver himself featured most prominently in her life now. She saw him every day. No matter the day, he made sure to have breakfast with her and then handed her off to whichever guard drew her for protection duty. Once in a while he would call her at work with a question, having long since discovered her ability to ferret out the strangest bits of information on the internet. Some of it wasn't exactly…open to all and sundry, but he just gave her a half smile and thanked her for her help. She swore she could even hear that smile over the phone because his voice always shifted into the same tone – a tone she didn't hear him use with anyone else…although a hint of it could be heard when he talked to Thea.

She brushed away the thought of becoming as important to him as his sister. It was a ludicrous idea.

One day she walked into the gym with some information he needed and found him working out – shirtless and barefoot. The image still stuck out in her mind for various reasons, not the least of which was the sheer visual appeal and sense of power surrounding him. She saw the scars and the tattoos as well, but they weren't really enough to pull her attention away from the cut of his figure. It took him a minute or two to get her attention, and she could also remember the smirk he wore that didn't quite hide a shadow of insecurity. (Thea later told her that his former girlfriend had reacted badly to all of his scars the first time she saw them. Felicity just shook her head.) She remembered turning red and stammering something along the lines of an apology that turned into something else with two or three unexpected innuendos. She still felt embarrassed about them, but since they'd wiped out the shadow in his eyes, she could live with a little humiliation. He'd started calling her more often when he was in the private gym and she couldn't help but wonder if he liked seeing her reaction to him working out.

"And shirtless too, thank goodness," she murmured and then groaned.

Please God…she needed sleep.

She tried reading, but the words blurred together on the page so she gave up. Television only held her attention for a few minutes more as she flipped through the stations trying to find something, anything to watch. A stupid, low-budget sci-fi flick would have worked, but it seemed like it was too late even for the late-late movie showings. She threw back the covers and sat up. Her body almost vibrated with opposite needs – she needed to sleep and she needed to move. Even before she realized what was happening, she found herself pacing the room as her mind flipped through ideas to tempt her out of her fear and back into sleep.

Nothing came to mind – nothing that she thought would work. She growled in frustration, tossing the pillow in her hand to the floor. Her gaze followed the flight and the robe on the back of her chair drew her attention. Quick steps ended there and she pulled the thick covering over her nightclothes. Usually the sight of her pajama bottoms and their cartoonish characters would pull out a smile, but tonight it just wasn't working. Her mind seesawed between the library and the kitchen for her destination. The kitchen meant some cocoa, maybe with a little extra zip, but the library meant getting lost in looking at all of the books.

"Library," she decided. She would try that first before making a mess in Raisa's kitchen.

Her footsteps made no sound as she made her way towards the library. The thick carpet muffled everything. It sometimes struck her, the oddity of her being in the Queen mansion. Their carpets felt more comfortable than some of the cots she used to crash on when working night shifts. She gave a small sniff of amusement; one thing about her current living situation – her supervisor seemed terrified at the thought of sticking her with any of the night shifts these days. There had been one…two guards accompanied her and then Walter showed up at midnight for a surprise visit. It had added to her 'gold-digging' reputation, but the look on her boss' face might have made up for it.

Incompetent self-important twit.

"Felicity?"

The voice caused her to jump and she spun towards the open door. She realized she just passed Oliver's study. Backtracking her footsteps with a small wince, she stepped into the room. Oliver sat behind his desk, curiosity in his expression as he looked at her. Her lips quavered as she tried to smile and his focus intensified. The small smile fell off his face as he came to his feet.

"Oliver? What-?" Her eyes widened and she almost pulled back as he stalked up to her.

"Are you hurt?" he demanded, one hand coming up to clasp her chin. The pressure of his fingers compelled her to look up at him. Incipient fury began to kindle in his gaze.

"No," she replied, confusion lacing through her voice.

"Then what's wrong?"

"Nothing," she tried to shake her head, but he refused to let go of her chin.

"Do not lie to me, Котёнок." His frown deepened and he shifted his hold so he could brush a thumb under one eye. "You've been crying." Color stained her cheeks as she brought a hand up to try and scrub at the tear tracks. He caught her hand, scanning her face once more before fixing his gaze on hers. "Talk to me, Felicity."

She closed her eyes, squeezing them shut for a moment before a sigh escaped from her and she blinked back up at him. "Nightmares," she admitted, voice dropping. "I've been having nightmares."

Concern showed in his taut lips. "What kind of nightmares?"

"Shadows," she murmured. A shudder ran through her. "Shadowy figures and the light flashing off metal." Her breath caught and it felt like a chain curled around her, preventing her from drawing in a deep breath at all. "I…I…" Her voice trailed off and her vision blurred as new moisture pooled in her eyes. "I hate nights," she admitted. "I can't…I can't hold back the…the fear anymore."

"тише, hush, little one." One tug pulled her against him as strong arms curled around her. Her head came to rest against his chest and she could hear the steady beat of his heart beneath her ear. "Не бойся. Don't be afraid." She felt him begin to brush her hair with his hand. Calloused fingers caught on the blonde strands, but she didn't care. As long as she could stay here, surrounded and safe, then she was content. He ducked his head and warm breath tickled the soft hair by her ear. "You're safe here," he whispered. "I promised, remember? You're safe. Клянусь. Trust me."

Felicity felt something inside of her unknot and relax at his words. "I trust you." Her hands twisted into his shirt, holding on as she leaned into him. Closing her eyes, she let herself be soothed by the sound of his voice, the feel of his hand on her hair, and the beat of his heart.

"Come," he said after a few moments. "Let's sit down." His arm encircled her waist as they sat down, pulling her against him to rest on his shoulder. Her eyelids grew heavy as she sank into his side. She felt drowsy with the warmth and safety he exuded. Serenity rolled through her as he continued to comb through her hair with his fingers and she never knew when sleep overtook her.

Later, however much later, she blinked at the strangeness of her view. She didn't remember lying down, but now she found herself staring at Oliver's desk from a decidedly sideways position. He wasn't sitting at it though. Something seemed peculiar, and her pillow felt much too firm. She shifted to lie on her back and found herself looking into Oliver's amused smirk. One hand had been resting on her arm before she moved while the other held some papers. "Feeling better?" he asked.

"Mmm, hmm." She hummed a little, beginning to stretch. Lethargy sapped her of the will to move too much. "I can't believe I fell asleep like that."

"You needed it."

Something in his tone made her suspicious and she peered up at him. It took a moment, but she realized she was looking up at him – straight up.

And her head rested on Oliver's thigh.

"Oh! Oh, my God, I am so sorry!" Felicity sat up. She could feel the blush spreading, probably all the way to her toes. "I'm so, so sorry. I didn't mean-."

"Calm down," he chuckled as he put down his paperwork. "It didn't bother me."

"Right, right." Biting her lip, she looked away.

He reached out and turned her back towards him. One thumb ran across her lip, pulling it out from her teeth. "I'm honored you trusted me enough to rest," he assured her.

She tried to duck his gaze, her lower lip catching on her teeth once more. Again he moved to soothe it back out. Her mind grasped at a way to distract her from the intimacy of his actions. "What are you reading?" she asked.

"It's a schedule," he replied. "We'll be going to Central City next week for a meeting."

"You're leaving?" Felicity sat up straight, eyes widening. Her hands shook for a moment, the idea of him being gone causing her fear to spike, but she pushed the nerves away. "How long…how long will you be gone?"

He shook his head, his hand reaching out to take one of hers. "We will be leaving," he noted. "And we will be gone for a few days."

"We?"

"The entire family will be going," he told her. "It's a...sit-down between two families."

"Ah," she nodded. "I understand." She remembered some of the sit-downs back in Massachusetts. They tended to be cordial, diplomatic meetings between groups to discuss various business opportunities or potential conflicts. It was a good way to try and head off problems before they led to blood in the streets. "Wait…I'm not-."

"You're going." His voice took on a resolute edge. "The entire household was invited and you are part of this household."

"For the moment," she added, a longing she never expected tugging at her. She shouldn't want to belong to the household. Hadn't she spent years avoiding becoming entangled in the Irish version of this? When they drove out the Triad, she would be going back to her apartment…and the idea already caused a dull ache in her chest. "For the moment," she repeated in a whisper.

Something unreadable crossed his face. "It's late." He rose to his feet and held out a hand to help her up. "You should get some more rest – if you think you can sleep now?"

She nodded and let him lead her out of the room.

Oliver accompanied Felicity upstairs, pausing outside of her bedroom door. 'Her' bedroom door…she blinked as the thought occurred to her and Oliver raised an eyebrow. "What is it?"

"I just…" She shook her head. "I was thinking earlier that sometimes it strikes me as odd, my being here I mean." A small chuckle escaped her. "But now…I thought of this as my bedroom door."

"It is your bedroom," he replied, his confusion growing.

"Yes, but…it's your house," she pointed out. "I'm…a guest."

"You're more than a guest." His hand came up to brush a lock of hair back from her face. Now her head tilted in question and he smiled. "Look at all you do here," he told her, his voice pitched low and intent. "You help Thea with her homework any time she needs it and you never mind answering her questions about your work."

"Okay, sure, but-."

"Walter enjoys discussing literature with you," he interrupted. "Mother is ecstatic to finally have someone who enjoys looking at artwork as much as she does."

"And that's been wonderful on my side too," she hurried to explain.

"Raisa, a woman who never gives out her private recipes, has given you three already."

Felicity stared at him. "How could you possibly know that?"

"I have my ways," he answered, a teasing glint in his face. "The security staff is ready to claim you walk on water."

"That's just because I rewired their computer system." She gave a mock shudder. "Honestly, Oliver, that system hurt my soul." Her hands came up in a shrug. "You're making me sound like some kind of wonder worker," she noted with a bewildered air, "when I'm anything but! I help Thea and answer her questions, but really, she's a curious teenager and God only knows I remember being one of those. It's not like it's a big hassle to spend time with her unless she's in a mood." She pursed her lips. "Art and literature…well, there are some things I know and enjoy, but Walter and Moira can both talk rings around me. Raisa…all I did was ask and she gave them to me. Maybe people just never said please?" Her brow furrowed in confusion. "Those things aren't big things – they're what people do, you know? I'm a computer nerd. Mint chocolate chip ice cream and a night of Doctor Who or Sherlock Holmes make my night. Fancy parties and dinners confuse me. I talk too much, I say the worst things at exactly the wrong times, and-."

"And you belong with us." Oliver's words caused her mouth to snap shut and she ducked her head. He took a step towards her, crowding in close, and used a finger to lift her chin so their eyes met. "You belong with us," he repeated. "You make me smile. I don't have to hide any part of myself from you because you don't flinch. You're honest with me. It's refreshing to have someone stand up to me with the truth and not hide or suck up. You tell me the truth – whether I want to hear it or not; whether you want to admit it or not." He shook his head, affection warming his smile. "Do you know how rare that honesty is to a man like me?"

"Oliver," she breathed out, not sure if she were agreeing or arguing, but she stopped when he shook his head.

"That is your bedroom," he told her. "That will be your bedroom even after this is over – even if you return to your apartment. You will forever have a place in this family…under my roof." He let go over her chin only to cup her cheek. "You belong with us." Their eyes locked for a long moment before his hand slid around to the back of her neck. He pulled her forward that last bit of space and her eyes fell closed as he pressed a kiss to her forehead. "You belong here, but for now you need sleep."

A sheen of tears glistened in her eyes as she opened them. "Good night, Oliver."

He stepped back, a new look in the depths of his gaze. "Сладких снов, Солнышко."

Russian Translations:

Котёнок - Kitten, little cat

тише - Hush

Клянусь - I swear it.

Сладких снов - Sweet dreams

Солнышко - Sunshine, little sun