A/N: I'm sorry.


"Diggle has been watching me," he says the first time she calls, "ever since you left."

She cringes, turning her face against the arm of the couch where she's lying. "Sorry about that."

"You know, he's a really good friend, I get that."

"But?" She presses the phone to her ear, enjoying as always having him inside her—his voice. In her ear. Which she doesn't say out loud, because she's growing, okay?! She can close her eyes and pretend he's beside her, pretend it's all as easy as the cell phone connection tying them together.

"But…" He trails off, and then mutters, "I think he likes you better."

She has to smile, just a little, at the thought of Diggle's sweet heart. "Diggle likes to think he can protect me. You can take care of yourself."

"I'm pretty sure you can take care of yourself too."

A snort. "Yeah. And he knows that, but he likes to try. Don't take it personally."


"How's life in the big city?" he asks.

"Don't tell me you're turning into a country boy."

The rustle of his shrug comes through the phone line. "What do I know, right? I guess I've always lived in Starling."

Another question she doesn't know how to answer. "Well, you traveled. And like… jungles. Or forests. And camping. So it's not completely new to you." And another hard question completely bombed. Well done, Felicity.

He laughs under his breath. "Sounds more like a ninja than an MMA fighter."

"Mmm…"


"I'm remembering the strangest things." A pause. "Was I into archery?"

"Um, yeah." She tips her head back on the bed, looking up at the ceiling. "You were really good at it."

"Cool." He sounds genuinely excited and it hurts, it really hurts. "Do you think Diggle brought my bow? Maybe the muscle memory will kick in."

"I'm not sure… but if he didn't, I'm sure he can send for it or bring it back for you."

After another pause, he says, "What about you? Did you shoot arrows with me?"

"Ha. No." She rubs her hands over her face and stretches, extending her arms overhead and gripping the edge of the mattress. "Sara… she was more into that sort of thing."

"Sara."

"Do you remember her?"

"A little. She was blonde like you."

That's probably the only thing we had in common, she thinks, but she doesn't actually mean it and so she's glad she didn't say it aloud. She likes Sara a lot, and they're more alike than she'll probably ever know. "Yeah," is all she says.


"So, Laurel," he says, and it sinks like a stone in her gut. She likes Sara, but she doesn't really know Laurel, except what she knows about Oliver planning to spend the rest of his life with her.

"Laurel?"

"You know, she came to visit in the hospital?"

"Yeah, I remember." She almost stops herself from asking, but: "Did you have a feeling about her, too?"

"Not… exactly. Kind of. Not the same feeling." Whatever that means. "But now I'm remembering things… us fighting, her crying, a lot of guilt. You said I wasn't a jerk."

"I didn't know you then, Oliver," she says gently. "I didn't know that side of you."

"I think I was a jerk, Felicity."

She can't help but smile sadly; he sounds so let down. "People change."

"I hope so."


"I'm having… a lot of nightmares," he says, so quiet, and she has to take a breath, putting her hand up to her head as she lies on the couch again.

"Did the doctor prescribe you any sleeping pills?"

"Yeah… but I feel like any memory is probably progress. It's just… they're really bad." The last part comes out almost as a whisper, and she thinks he wants to keep it from her, wants to protect her, but still she asks:

"Do you want to talk about them?"

Silence. A long silence. "I don't know. It seems like… I'm always running from something… or chasing… shooting arrows… and people keep… trying to hurt you."

"Maybe you should try the sleeping pills," hesitantly.

He sighs. "Maybe."


"Tell me something good."

"Well, I've been working a lot. I'm drowning in code, which is great for me. Except that I'm seeing code in my dreams. But you know, I prefer that to dreams of the plane crash, so… Sorry, that's not helpful. But do you really want to hear about my adventures in coding? I'm not sure that's what you meant by something—"

He breathes out in what could almost be a laugh, except it's not, it's just a breath. "I just like hearing your voice."

Ironic that she completely loses her voice in that moment.


"Oliver?" She stands in the middle of her living room, one hand holding the phone to her ear and the other clutching her elbow at her side. During the week, sometimes, she can forget, but when it comes time to call the rock forms in the pit of her stomach, growing all the time.

"Yeah."

"Are you doing okay?"

His breaths, in and out, are the only reply.

"If you need to talk, you know where to find me."

"Yeah."

Her heart pounds hard in her chest and her throat almost closes with the ache. "I'll talk to you soon." She waits, one two three, and then hangs up.