A/N: Okay, I have a question for all you readers out there - Do you feel like the story and the Olicity relationship is progressing well? I want to make sure that you all are still enjoying it!
As always, Maverick41 is doing a wonderful job at betaing and helping improve my writing.
Enjoy!
"So you'll train me, right? To live on the island?" Felicity huffed, trying to keep up with Oliver's fast pace. "Since we're obviously never leaving."
Although she couldn't see his face, she was pretty sure that his expression would be closed off and unwilling to listen. They had been having versions of this conversation for the past twenty-four hours and none of them had swayed him in his decision. However, his refusals to listen didn't deter Felicity from her goal - to get Oliver to spend quality time connecting with her, and then get him to agree to go back to Starling.
"No, Felicity," he responded, his tone expressionless. She noticed, with a twinge of resentment, that he wasn't even breathing hard.
"But...the poison ivy," she gasped, struggling to take in enough air to talk. Her left calf burned both with exertion and with the effects of the itching plant, which she had stepped in before Oliver had been able to warn her. "If you taught me about the island, I'd have known better."
There was silence from Oliver for a second as he faltered and slowed. "I'm sorry about that, Felicity," he said sincerely, still not facing her. "I should've noticed it earlier."
Felicity rolled her eyes in exasperation. Oliver had this crazy notion that everything was his fault, even things completely out of his control. Like her stupid foray into the patch of poison ivy earlier that morning.
Her lower left leg felt like it was on fire, and Felicity was finally forced to stop and rest, fighting the urge to scratch all the time.
Oliver continued a couple steps, then stopped when he realized that she was no longer following him. "Are you okay?" he looked back, his concern for her evident in his gaze.
"Yeah," she lied through her teeth. "Just need a break."
In a flash, he was by her side, his hand gently touching her arm. "It's your leg." It was a statement more than a question.
"No, Oliver, I'm fine," she protested as he bent down to take a better look at her rash. However, her comment was negated by her wince as he carefully stroked the affected area with the tip of his finger.
"I have some island herbs back at the camp." In one smooth motion, he scooped her up in his arms like she weighed no more than a child and held her against his muscled chest. "They'll soothe the rash."
Biting her lip, Felicity just nodded, her protests dying before she could utter them. Although Oliver had held her before, nearly every other instance had involved some sort of mortal danger. This time, for a change, she could just enjoy the feeling of his strong arms wrapped around her and the sense of security that he always exuded.
"Comfortable?" he asked, starting towards camp. She could feel his words echoing through his diaphragm, making her shiver in appreciation. His voice had a magical effect on her.
Clearing her throat, Felicity responded, "Really comfortable. But you know that you don't have to carry me, right? I'm perfectly capable of walking myself. Not that I particularly want to, don't get me wrong, this is really nice." Her face heated up and she hastily tried to fix her comments. "I mean, what you're doing to me is really nice. For me. I meant, for me." Felicity snapped her mouth shut with an audible clicking sound, deciding that it was better to just stop before she made things worse.
She felt Oliver quiver slightly, and she peered up at him suspiciously. Was he laughing? But there was no visible sign of amusement on his chiseled features. "It's fine, Felicity," he reassured her, glancing down at her long enough to flash her a quick grin. "I don't mind."
Content with his reassurance, Felicity leaned her head on his shoulder and closed her eyes, breathing in his musky scent with each breath. Her leg didn't bother her nearly as much when she was so preoccupied with every move Oliver made. His distracting presence was better than any medicine.
…
"Digg, can you grab some of the island herbs from the chest in there?" Oliver asked, gesturing with his head as he walked into camp, still clutching Felicity in his arms. "And some water."
"Is she okay?" As he spoke, Diggle jumped up from his seat where he had been roasting some type of bird over the fire and hurried into the shelter to get the herbs.
"She'll be fine," Oliver called after his friend. "She stepped in some poison ivy earlier and her leg's developing a nasty rash."
"Really, you're making way too big a deal of this," Felicity mumbled against his shoulder. Her hot breath brushed against his neck and he had to pause for a moment to make sure that he was in complete control before he trusted himself to respond.
"I just don't want anything to happen to you." He grimaced as he corrected himself. "Anything worse than a little rash." Gently, he released his hold on her until she was standing on the ground next to him. However, he couldn't resist keeping one hand on the small of her back. He told himself that it was just there for support in case she wobbled, but deep down, he knew that he just liked the sensation of touching her when she was in his arms and he was having trouble relinquishing the contact.
"Know what would make you feel better?" she grinned up at him, her eyes sparkling with humour.
"I'm scared to ask."
"If you taught me and trained me...then I would be able to take care of myself on the island and back in Starling. Then you wouldn't have to worry."
Oliver pursued his lips together, but was saved from responding by Diggle's reappearance, the packet of dried herbs in his hand.
"Found them," the man tossed the pouch and Oliver caught it easily.
"Thanks." Oliver measured out a small amount of the miracle drug into his palm and offered it to Felicity. "Swallow these quickly."
Although he could see the apprehension at his instructions clear in her eyes, she took the herbs and placed them in her mouth in a move that Oliver found strangely alluring. What followed was almost comical as she screwed up her face into a grimace and plugged her nose, all the while trying to make herself swallow. Finally successful, she croaked out, "Water?"
Trying to keep a straight face, Oliver gestured to Digg to give her the water bottle he was holding. She grabbed it and guzzled a mouthful desperately, trying to wash away the bitter taste.
"That's disgusting," she finally commented darkly to the two amused men after finishing half the bottle. "And not funny."
"Not at all," Diggle agreed hastily.
Oliver took the water bottle from her hand and motioned for her to sit down on the log next to the fire.
"What are you doing?" she asked, but she sat where he indicated.
"Rinsing it off." He knelt next to her and gently laid a hand on the curve of her calf, twisting it so that the worst part of the rash was facing up. Her skin was soft against his fingers and he realized that he was skimming his thumb along the top of her leg absentmindedly, sending tingles up his arm. Mentally reprimanding himself, he focused on trickling a steady stream of water onto the affected area. "It helps to wash as much of the sap off as possible so that it doesn't spread the irritation."
She nodded. "Look at all these skills I could learn if you'd just teach me."
"Poison ivy is the least of the dangers here." Oliver gritted his teeth and stared intently at the stream of water. "I want you to go back to Starling. You don't belong here."
"Neither do you," she pointed out lightly, but he could hear the masked hurt in her voice. It stabbed at his heart.
"This is my punishment," he retorted, feeling his temper rising for no rational reason. "You wouldn't understand."
Her voice matched his increased volume as she shot out of her seat and responded coldly, "Well, maybe if you would talk to me instead of going off to sulk all the time, I would understand! You keep acting like this spoiled brat and pretending that none of your choices affect anyone else, but that's not true. There are people who love you, Oliver; Digg and I are just two of them. Right?" she shot a look at Digg.
Diggle held up his hands. "Not getting involved."
"I'm protecting the people I care about," Oliver roared over Diggle's statement. "And I don't need you, constantly telling me how I'm making the wrong choices. Go back to Starling." Immediately, he knew that he had gone too far as he saw Felicity's eyes fill up with tears behind her glasses. There was no way to take back what he had said, but he wished he could go back and erase the last couple moments. Moderating his tone, he reached out towards her. "Felicity, I-"
"Leave it, Oliver." Her voice was thick as she leaned away from him. "I think I've heard enough." She turned abruptly and started off towards the forest.
"Felicity, where are you going?" Diggle called after her retreating figure.
Her response floated back to them a second later. "I just need some air."
"Be careful," Oliver cautioned, still beating himself up for his insensitive comments. This time, there was no reply.
"That was a jerk move." Diggle brushed past him and headed inside, his mouth forming a disapproving frown.
"I know," Oliver whispered, but Diggle was already out of earshot. He didn't know if he could erase the sight of her hurt expression from his mind; he knew it would haunt him.
…
The sound of Felicity's feet pounded the forest floor, accompanied by her steady shallow breathing. Although the constant motion made her poison ivy rash flare up, that irritation was was the nothing to her emotional pain. She wasn't usually the type to snap like that, but her frustration with Oliver had gotten the better of her and she had voiced her thoughts in probably the worst way possible.
Running was a much more therapeutic way of expressing her pent-up aggression and already it was making her feel better. Calmer.
But, the hurt was still there and nothing could remove the memories of his words from her mind.
He doesn't need me here. He wants me to leave.
Knowing Oliver's impulsiveness, it was possible that it had been merely his temper talking, but the comments stung Felicity nonetheless.
The shadows under her feet lengthened, and she realized that it was starting to get dark and she should probably head back to camp unless she wanted to spend the night out in the forest alone.
With a sigh, she angled herself, planning to sweep in a gradual arc until she was facing her destination.
The ground crumbled beneath her, twisting her ankle sharply and throwing her off balance. Her arms windmilled as she tried to regain her footing, but it was too late. In a moment of panicked clarity, Felicity realized that she was falling and automatically covered her head with her arms to offer it some form of protection.
She felt like she was falling forever, but really the sensation only lasted for a heartbeat before she hit the ground hard, knocking the wind out of her lungs, and then continued to roll down some kind of rocky hill.
Sharp rocks cut into her skin.
Roots caught and ripped her clothing.
The repeated impacts with the ground pummelled her body.
Finally, the motion stopped and Felicity lay there, groaning and too sore to do more than take a quick inventory of her body to make sure that nothing was broken.
The darkness settled in around her.
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