I'm so sorry for updating so late guys!

I want to thank you all for the lovely comments, reviews and even all the ''where is the next chapter'' things. It's so good to hear people are still interested in this story. And again, I'm so sorry for the wait. My internship is almost over, so I hope to have more writing time again in a few weeks. For now, I will let you enjoy the next chapter, that I made a bit longer for you guys in an attempt to make it up for the wait.

Thanks befitandchase for the beta, you're awesome as always! I can't do this without you!

Please let me know what you think!
Love,
TheNightSign

Elegant fingers smoothed over his forehead, tracking every visible line. It was as if her touch went deeper than skin, stirring something buried deep inside of him. Bright blue eyes looked at him with tenderness and all he could do was stare back in complete amazement. She was everything he wasn't and he just couldn't comprehend what made her stay by his side. Why did she choose him as she could have easily have another, less complicated man, than the damaged Oliver Queen?

''You have that look on your face again, you know,'' she murmured.

Her voice pulled him out of his stupor. He smiled softly at her, noticing how the morning sun touched her hair, turning it into an almost golden color. Once again, he realized that she truly resembled light and honesty, while he was dark and full of secrets. He didn't tell her that though, because she would only say she couldn't be the light if he wouldn't be the dark. According to her, they complimented each other, but he only thought about himself as an obstacle for her.

''What look?''

''The one that says 'This is a dream and as soon as I wake up, I will be all alone again.' That look.''

He shifted uncomfortably in the bed, tensing up by her words. She was right. He was still waiting for the moment she would change her mind and leave him. It didn't matter that he tried to tune out the doubts in his head, they always kept lingering in the background. Mocking him for his belief in this relationship, whispering to him he should know better. Reminding him nothings lasts forever. Not for him.

Since they started looking for a house, a little place to call their home, his nightmares had changed. No, not changed, multiplied. Now not only did he dream about the five years in hell, he also had visions about Felicity. Her, walking out of his life, leaving him for a better job, a better man, a better life. And even when he wakes up from those nightmares, he can't seem to get the images out of his mind.

As the glue to his broken pieces, Felicity's departure would cause much more than just heartbreak; his heart and soul would shatter in the aftermath.

His fear of losing her is exactly why he can't let his worries go. He is scared, afraid that if he commits himself to her completely, take that final step, he will not be able to survive the blow that will follow if she leaves. Because somewhere deep inside, he knows she will leave him eventually.

Somehow his thoughts must have been playing across his features or maybe she is just that good at reading him, because she sighs and drops her hand to his shoulder. She pulls herself closer, resting her head against his.

''How many times do I need to tell you, Oliver? There is no other place where I would rather be than right here, by your side.''

Her lips fall to his mouth, their breath mingles before she leaves a kiss so soft, he almost doesn't catch it. The tenderness pulls at him, slips past his defenses and warms him from the inside out.

He takes in the wonderful woman laying next to him. She is so lively and unique that he doesn't even know how to describe it. He bends his head, pressing his mouth to hers in the hopes she understands all that he can't put in words. His feelings, his fears, his hopes.

If it was up to him, he would hold her close to his chest in order to keep her safe, but she demands to be a part of the dark life he is leading. And honestly, having her as a light to guide him home, it makes a difference. She brings a spark of life to the mission he didn't know he missed.

He lays one hand on her cheek, thump ghosting over her cheekbone. There is so much that he owes to her and yet she demands nothing but love in return. And still, he is not giving her all he has to offer.

Another kiss is placed at her lips and this time he licks at her bottom lip, deepening the kiss. He doesn't have to wait for a response, because she sighs into him and then her tongue is meeting his. She smells like the strawberry shampoo she washes her hair with and he can't resist playing with the blond locks.

Smoldering embers come to life when her hands grab his neck, fingernails digging in his skin. He can't suppress the hissing sound escaping his throat. Felicity's body shivers in reaction and before he knows it, she is arching her body into his chest. The hand on her cheek never leaves its place, but the hand that was buried in her hair traces the shell of her ear, making her mewl.

He is the one to pull back, both of his hands cradling her face. He takes in all of her, from the light blush of her skin, to her parted lips only to end by her eyes filled with sweet desire.

''I'm not worthy of your love,'' he confesses heavily, his throat swollen from all the emotions he desperately tries to hold to himself.

Her hands come up to cover his, soothing his heavy heart.

''Yes you are,'' she states passionate. ''You just don't see it for yourself,'' she then continues in a softer voice. ''You deserve my love in more ways than I can ever explain to you. Somehow you keep thinking there will come a time where I will see the monster inside of you and run, but you could not be more wrong. I already saw it Oliver. I saw you.''

The words seem to float so easily from her lips. He wants to believe her, he really does, but there is something inside of him that doesn't let him. She notices though.

Her hands squeeze his before she lets them go and lays them on his chest. One is covering the Bratva tattoo, the other on the scar he got from the first arrow to his shoulder. He is painfully aware of the fact she touches things that tie him to his time on the island. The place where he became a killer.

''You expect me to hate that side of you, but how can I hate that part of your past, if it transformed you into the man you are today? This beautiful man that cares more about others than about himself. Who sacrifices so much that at times it leaves me wondering if he has any love left to give to himself. And the painful truth is; no, he doesn't.''

''Felicity..,'' he whispers, the words echoing in the big room.

''No, let me finish Oliver. You have this crazy idea in your head, thinking that you don't deserve love or happiness due to the mistakes you made, the wrongs you did. But you're mistaken. You deserve this, more than anyone I ever met. After all the hardship that has crossed your path, this is faith or god or whoever is up there, finally repaying you for all the good you have done for the bigger picture since you returned.''

Completely astounded by her passionate speech he can do nothing but stare at her. Her words resonate within him, the fire with which she speaks softening the rough edges of his soul.

She is truly convinced he has earned this and he just can't understand why. He doesn't deserve any of it. Not her understanding or forgiveness, and definitely not her love.

It isn't the first time this subject fills their conversations, but it is the first time she is so vocal about it. Her words hit him close to home. She seems to know everything about him. The way he thinks, feels, reacts. She knows this isn't about trust or love, because he trusts and loves her more then he will ever be able to express through words.

She knows it's about believe. Belief that a killer can find redemption. Belief that a damaged man can be put back together. Belief that love really can conquer all.

Her faith in him leaves him petrified. The fact that she knows... all of it, all of him and still is able to see something worthy... It only shows how deep she is embedded in his life.

''Nothing you will say or do is going to make me love you less, Oliver. I know you're afraid, but please, stop holding back. I promise you, I will stay.''

He feels the heat spreading through his body, taking over the cold grip of fear that was rapped around his heart just moments ago. She lays her head on his chest and immediately, he brings one hand up to bury in her hair, while his other hands lays on the small of her back, holding her close to his side.

He can't help but wonder if there will come a day where he finds the strength to believe for himself that this will last. Still, he knows that until that day comes, he can believe her.

She sighs into him, arms wrapping around his body, head resting just under his chin. A low exhale relieves the tension in his body. He can feel how his control is slipping away and for once in his life, he allows it. Tears he thought he couldn't share well up in his eyes.

Felicity truly is remarkable. She has easily climbed the walls he built around himself, slipping inside and changing him with every nudge she has given him until they finally crumble down. It's the knowledge that she truly loves him, that he can't scare her away, that makes him give up the last of his restraints.

''I will always stay,'' she whispers.

The tears fall down his cheek, disappearing in her golden hair. He has waited so long to find somebody like her. Somebody who could love him unconditionally, who could be his anchor in this storm he calls his life. He only just realizes he has that somebody right here, safe in his arms.

He wanted to bring her even closer to his chest, not planning on letting her go anytime soon, but his arms found nothing but cold air. The weight of her body pressed into his side was gone, there were no soft locks of hair tickling his skin.

Alarmed by the absences of warmth next to him, his eyes flew open. His head quickly turned to the right, where she usually lay beside him. The air got knocked out of his lungs when he saw nobody there.

A cold fist of fear gripped his heart, squeezing it until he was unable to move. He tried to reason with the anxiety, arguing with himself that maybe she was just in the kitchen, getting a glass of water. If he could still smell her shampoo, still taste the kisses they shared, then she couldn't be that far away, could she?

But no amount of reasoning or self control could subdue the panic that had already flared up inside of him.

''Felicity!''

No response. The lack of answer colored his judgment, making him worry even more, but he couldn't do anything to stop it. In a flash of movement he hauled his body upright, pain flaring through his neck by the action, but already pushed to the background. His gaze searched the room for any sign of her presence.

''Felicity!'' he roared again, but her name echoed off the walls without anybody acknowledging them. It was then that realization slowly crept upon him. He wasn't in their bed, their room, or even their house.

There was nothing except darkness, keeping him imprisoned.

''Please,'' he begged to the empty room, his voice rough.

Silence.

''Felicity...''

His voice was nothing but a mere whisper now, an exhale of breath while he felt the pain ebb back into his body. Tears escaped him. He had trusted her, loved her with all his being, but now all of that didn't matter anymore.

She was gone, ripped away into the night by a cold blade, held by a shaking hand.

His hand.

…

Every day he had seen how his former protégée was dying from the inside out. Each time he came to visit him or needed to ''care'' for him, he had searched for that familiar spark of life in his eyes, only to find it in the moments where he seized an opportunity and tried to die on the outside to.

He had been looking for a better solution to help of Oliver for the last few weeks. It just didn't sit right with him they kept using tranquilizers or even Tasers in a failing attempt to keep him under control. Yes, it may have been necessary with all the self inflicted wounds, but it wasn't his idea of caring for somebody. Still, he hadn't had a reason to suspect that another facility would treat him any different.
The fact that Felicity came back though, that changed everything. It gave him hope that maybe, in some miraculous way, they would be able to heal each other. He didn't know how, but he did know that limited visiting hours and isolation weren't going to help. So he decided to break Oliver out. It wouldn't be the first felony he committed for his friend. Donning the green hood every night to let the people believe Green Arrow was still out there did that already.

In order to bring Felicity and Oliver back together, he needed to find some place safe where Oliver could be monitored. Where people who knew every dangerous side of him could try to help him get through his pain. Make him see that all was not lost. That Felicity was still alive.

He had come to a very simple conclusion. Verdant.

Now here he was, checking the video feed of the institution to see if the video loop he learned from Felicity years ago had worked. If the old her was here, she would have remarked on how he could have doubted her technique in the first place. The thought made a smile play over his face, relieved of the grief he had gone through for those four months.

Roy, who still hadn't be able to comprehend everything that he had said to him, had sunk down in a chair. John was sure that it wasn't the fact that he didn't want to believe him, but that it just seemed impossible until he saw it with his own eyes. And as much as he wanted to give the kid a chance to see her, there were things of higher importance right now.

A loud roar came from the newly formed patted call, letting him know that the half sedated Oliver he had left there was now fully awake. He turned to look to Roy, who had jumped up from the sound. If you were hearing the heart wrenching screams for the first time, they could be pretty hard to bear.

Hell, who was he kidding? He found it hard to listen to them too, even after all this time.

''You're sure there isn't anything we can do for him?'' Roy asked with dread in his voice.

''Not right now. He's disorientated from the sedative, lost because he won't recognize the room he's being kept in. We don't open that door, not under any circumstance, you hear me, Harper. You can't forget Oliver isn't good company now. Without Felicity, he isn't the hero of Starling City. He is a dangerous murderer with a new mission; end his own suffering.''

Diggle stood up from his place behind the laptop and walked towards him. A heavy hand landed on his shoulder, giving it a solid pat. He could appreciate the attempt to give him some comfort, but it didn't really ease his mind. There was just too much that had happened.

He was afraid to believe Diggle and what he said about Felicity. He didn't want to think they could have her back, only to let her get ripped out of their lives once again. There was still a chance she was just a copy-cat. A sick, twisted woman who looked just like her. And even if she was alive, he didn't know if that fate was any better for her. To be lost and scarred, broken with nobody to help you, it was cruel.

He remembered Oliver had been all alone too when he first came back from the island. A fractured shell of the boy he once was. Maybe that was the price you paid in order to get a second chance at life. It was another thing Felicity and Oliver shared now, even if they didn't know it yet.

He stood there, listening to the noise coming from Oliver's holding cell. The cries of agony made him feel sick, but it was the pleading ''Felicity'' that really worked on his nerves. He wanted to walk away, not to be able to hear any more, but he knew that he owed it to Oliver to stay here, to watch him. Keep him safe, even if this ''safe'' was a twisted version of the true meaning of the word. You didn't keep a friend safe by locking him up in a dark, cold room.

It was then that Diggle decided to leave, once again telling him he would be back around noon to relieve him from his ''watching'' duty. Reminding him he needed to call Thea so that she wouldn't get suspicious. Reminding him to not open that door. He knew that the man had good intentions and that he was concerned about both his health as well as Oliver's, but it came across as if Diggle didn't trust him enough with the tasks he had given him. He wasn't stupid, he had gotten the message the first time around. Don't let Oliver escape, or everything would end in disaster.

He grabbed his phone from the desk where it had been laying. The few meters it separated him from Oliver's holding cell weren't enough to silence the noise he created. If he was going to call Thea, he needed to make sure she didn't hear anything. He didn't know if she would recognize Olivers cries of agony, but he risk was too big to take.

So he walked through a small corridor, separating himself from Oliver. Sometimes he got sick and tired of lying to Thea, but with the life he led, there weren't any other solutions.

Still, the fact that he couldn't tell her that her sister-in-law was alive bothered him more than he was able to express. It wasn't just another subject that he could add to the list of things he kept from her. This was a whole new lie unto itself. If she knew Felicity was alive, it could relieve her from her grief, from all the pain and sorrow. But she couldn't know, because of the all the questions it would raise. Questions he wouldn't be able to answer.

She listened to the dial tone once, twice, before she panicked and ended the call. A sob ran through her body, but she ignored it, stared at the phone instead. How could she burden somebody else with her troubles? Beside, what did she really know about John Diggle? That he was once her friend, that she once had trusted him? Or was that just what she made him to be?

The truth was she knew just as much about him as she did about herself, which was absolutely nothing. She didn't know if their friendship had been the kind of bond where you could call the other in the early hours of the morning. It could be that they just had a superficial thing going on and that calling him now would overstep the boundaries of their old relationship. So she lay the phone back on her nightstand, deciding that since she had been alone in this from the beginning, she could handle this memory on her own just as well. Even if this memory made her wish she had never remembered it at all.

The pain it brought her still seeped through her body. It was easy to imagine that the young Felicity had a hard time dealing with the death of her parents the first time around, but now she had to mourn them all over again. The knowledge that she had sat there, watching as her family burned and then reliving it again... It was a heavy burden to carry, a weight on her shoulders that tried to push her down.

She was scared that the rest of her life, the rest of her memories would be just the same. That it would be filled with things she thought she wanted to know, until she did know them. That every time she remembered something, it would cause more pain than not knowing at all.

Rage welled up inside her. Could this be what was waiting for her for the next few years? Being lost, trying to find pieces to a puzzle that would never be whole again? Asking herself the same stupid question day in, day out, without ever getting closer to an answer? She didn't want that.

A silent cry escaped her mouth. It didn't matter what she wanted, she had no other choice than to just go on with this cruel life.

The anger disappeared by the revelation that maybe she had earned it. Maybe she had done something so terrible in her life before the accident that this was just karma, paying her back. She didn't want to believe she was evil enough to deserve a fate like this, but she couldn't be sure of anything anymore.

Wanting to escape the memories that were spinning in her head, she pushed her hands over her ears, but she didn't get any respite from them. Instead, they only seemed to intensify.

She could feel them again, the strong hands of her husband, pressing against her windpipe. Her hands clawed at her neck to try and remove his fingers.

It was like all she remembered about herself until this point came rushing back to her. She refused to let herself get defeated by that though. She wasn't a victim, she was a survivor. And everything she was going through right now was nothing more but a figment of her imagination.

She pushed herself up, letting her legs fall over the side of the bed before getting the prosthetic. Her breathing was shallow, fingers shaking, but she pushed through it, strapping the socket to the limb with help from the suspension system.

Her need to get away from this place consumed her. She tried to get dressed as quickly as is possible, which due to her handicap, wasn't as fast as she had wished. Still she succeeded in keeping it under ten minutes, which was actually kind of a record for her.

In a flash of brightness, she grabbed her phone from where it had been laying before she took hold of the door handle and pushed it down. She half walked, half ran through the corridors of the Starling City Plaza Hotel, leaving everything around her in a blur. She wasn't aware of the fact she was outside until she felt the cold wind on her face.

The rough fingers around her throat seemed to loosen their choke hold. With every shaking breath she took, she could feel the stress dissolving. The oxygen burned in her lunges, but it was a feeling she was happy to endure. It meant she was okay.

Carefully, she started to make her way downtown. Sleep wasn't going to come anytime soon and they last thing she wanted to do right now was go back to that suffocating room. Given the fact that it was already 4.30 AM, the sun would rise in little more over an hour anyway. One hour and twenty-three minutes to be exact.

She raised an eyebrow at herself. Another thing to add to the list; apparently she knew about the sunrise and sunset here in Starling city.

It was impossible not to wonder about the woman she was before the accident. There had been sudden things she just ''happen to know'' that really piqued her interest. Because why would a simple IT specialist know about medical jargon or facial expressions for that matter? What kind of life had she been leading that required those kinds of talents?

Again, it felt like she was trying to fit this puzzle together with too few pieces to begin with or maybe even the wrong ones. This time however, she kept the panic at bay my focusing on the sounds of the city around her.

Her feet – or her foot and prosthetic, to be more precise – carried her over deserted streets and intersections. She let her unconsciousness decide if she went left or right, not bothering to see where she would end up. It felt good just to be outside and she wanted it to last for as long as possible.

She turned to her right, not wanting to walk through the alleyway before her, only to find her way blocked by a dark silhouette. Her heart rate went up, but without hesitation she turned back in the direction she came from. Six steps, that was how far she went before she saw the second silhouette on the street where she just walked.

Somewhere in the back of her mind she registered the height and build of the bodies, defining them both as male. She also noted that this was a premeditated crime. It was easy to tell from the way they cut off her escape route so she could only avoid them by going into the dark alley. There was a big fat chance there would be a third attacker waiting for her.

She froze on the middle of the sidewalk, knowing that if she walked into that alley, her fate would be sealed.

Three months, that was how long it had taken her to realize she needed to leave Seattle and go back to Starling City. Crime rates started to rise again and she knew why. Although Diggle tried to fill the void Oliver had left as best as he could, he wasn't the same hero as the real Green Arrow had been. In fact, it was the lack of whole Team Arrow that made the streets unsafe again. Without all of them on the mission, there was no true protection for the people of the city. And the women were left to suffer at the hands of men, once again. The Black Canary couldn't let that happen.

Her decision to come back only proved to be right when her eyes caught movement below her on the streets. The rooftop where she was perched gave her a perfect view of the layout of the streets below her. The tree figures and their positions on the pavement told her all she needed to know. It was a trap.

She jumped from the rooftop to the fire escape and from the fire escape to the ledge of a window. She wanted to be close-by just in case she was needed, but still a safe distance away from the attackers so they wouldn't see her. Only it didn't seem like this woman needed protection. Where everybody else would be heading to the alley, in hopes to find a way to escape the threatening men, the woman didn't do that. Instead she ran towards the man on her left, surprising him. He hadn't expected her to have the courage to try and escape them.

A small smile curled Sara's lips upwards. Clearly this woman had understood that defeat would wait for her in the alley, where the men could attack her together. So instead, she caught the attackers off guard by trying to get past one of him.

The man recovered quickly, grabbing the womans' wrist and pulling her towards him. It was reason enough for Sara to lower herself to the ground, bow staff already in hand. Before she could do anything though, the man was on the ground, the hard impact leaving him unconscious. The blond woman had thrown her elbow in, crouched down to get under the man's center of gravity and had continued with throwing him over her shoulder like he was a sack of flour. It was admirable, to say the least.

A third attacker made his presence known by stepping out of the alley the attackers had wanted to lure the woman in, not looking pleased with the recent developments. The woman saw them coming and made a run for it. Unfortunately, it seemed that speed wasn't her erea of expertise, as the men started to gain on her.

This time, Sara didn't hesitate. She slipped out of the shadows and rushed towards both of the men. Approaching them from the back, they didn't even see her coming until it was too late. The staff hit the knee of the right man, using the joints natural movement against him in order to send him to the ground. She pivoted on her heel, using the half-turn to add momentum to her next blow for the other attacker. She aimed for the thoracic vertebrae, but the man ducked, thereby signing his own dead certificate. The end of the bow staff made contact with his cervical vertebrae instead, the force of it snapping his neck.

There was no time to think about the new man she just added to her long and ever growing list of dead bodies. Instead, she turned back to the man she had forced to his knees, who was now trying to get back up again, wanting to pursue the fleeing woman.

He looked up at her masked face with fear in his eyes, clearly knowing who he was up against. The reputation of Black Canary was clearly something the criminals in this town hadn't forgotten yet. With a blow to his temple, the man was knocked out cold.

She looked up just in time to see the woman turn the corner of the street, her short, blond hair the only thing she had registered of her.