(Don't) Let Me Go

Chapter Ten: (Dis)Belief

Felicity woke up to an unusually growly stomach and a very usual craving for coffee. But both things were completely overpowered by an overwhelming…coziness.

In fact, Felicity couldn't remember the last time she had felt so warm and content. She just wanted to stay in bed…

Except…

This wasn't her bed. The scratchy sheets were not Felicity's thousand thread-count ones and the blanket was certain not the down comforter she adored. The mattress itself was kinda hard, but still…

Wow.

Oh wow.

Oh wow oh wow oh wow.

That was Oliver wrapped around her, surrounding her with warmth and comfort and…something so much better than any down comforter. Something that brought tears to Felicity's eyes.

How long had it been since they had slept (and woken) so completely entangled together?

This wasn't just a loose spoon. Even in his sleep, Oliver was clutching Felicity as if she could (and would) disappear at any moment.

Okay, maybe, that was an exaggeration. Oliver really only had one arm holding her to him. The other was stretched, allowing Felicity to use it as a pillow. And while his bicep really did make the best pillows ever…poor Oliver. That arm was gonna be numb when he woke up.

Felicity should probably move, for his sake, but it just felt soooo good. Her back was pressed full-length against his front and Oliver's face was buried in her neck, his breath puffing rhythmically over her collar bone, reminding her of how alive he was.

It was a very welcome reminder after a day like the last few…hundred or so.

One of Oliver's long legs curved along the length of Felicity's from behind and the other had slipped between her knees, effectively pinning her to the bed.

And that one arm that curled around her…it seemed to cover Felicity's entire torso. Bent at the elbow, so the length of Oliver's forearm was pressed tightly against her from her hip to chest, his hand gently cupped the underside of her breast.

It might only be that one arm clutching her like a well-loved Teddy bear, but no one was taking Felicity from Oliver without a fight. Including her.

It made Felicity smile.

It really had been a long time since she had been held like this, not just the fourteen months that they had been apart. Felicity had forgotten how safe it made her feel. How loved.

When they had first run away together they had slept like this, well, always. But, as their relationship had progressed, and as they (well, Oliver) had become more confident that Felicity would still be there next to him when he woke up in the morning, it had happened less and less.

It wasn't a bad thing. It had felt completely normal, just a natural progression brought on by familiarity and security. How could that possibly be bad? They had started to sleep close, but not entwined. Maybe with just one hooked ankle or arm thrown over a back or belly or chest.

There would still be days…nights…when something happened. And maybe that something was just a nightmare, but…Felicity always knew it was bad when they woke up tangled so closely together it would be hard to tell whose limbs were whose…well, except her limbs didn't quite resemble tree trunks, but that wasn't exactly the point.

It had helped. The octopus routine. Helped both of them. Through the tough days and the worst dreams. Another thing Felicity had missed in the dead of night when life had turned…awful these last few months.

But then Felicity had gotten shot and her lower body…well, the snuggling options were more limited. What was worse, though, was that Oliver had decided she was made of glass. He had started to tip-toe around her with this very obvious fear that he could break her by breathing the wrong way.

God Felicity had hated that, but…Maybe, Oliver hadn't been all that wrong after all.

Maybe, the chip in her back allowed Felicity to walk, but left all the jagged edges behind, raw and tender.

But, maybe, she was finally healing. Felicity felt whole in a way she hadn't in…a very long time. She felt loved. She felt…happy. Once upon a time she had teased and critiqued Oliver's ability to feel that emotion and, now…she hadn't even realized how long it had been since she had felt the same.

Felicity snuggled back against Oliver and pulled his arm more securely around her. Closing her eyes, she wiggled her ass and, oh wow, that was an…even more comfortable position. Well then.

Oliver might even be more ready to wake up than he seemed. If his morning wood was any indication. A zap of arousal shot through her as his length settled into the crack of her ass.

The cozy warmth of being in Oliver's arms slowly turned into a very different sort of heat and…that was something she remembered extremely well. Felicity's skin tingled and she pushed further back into him, her breasts rounding, nipples tightening, as her body became acutely aware if every place Oliver's skin touched hers, which really was quite a lot of places.

This…this Felicity had never forgotten. Not for one single solitary day.

Oliver didn't wake up right away, which was a testament to a) exactly how exhausted he was and b) his level of trust in Felicity and their current safety.

It was the later thought that made Felicity smile. Lying here now, it seemed so strange that she had ever questioned Oliver's trust in her. It was things like this that proved it so much more than any words. In retrospect, all the evidence of his inability to let her in felt so flimsy next to…this.

Felicity smiled and waited for Oliver to wake, imaging how his lips would brush her cheek, how he would pull her even closer and whisper sappy things that no one else ever got to hear him say. Things that she never would have imagined herself loving as much as she did.

But when Oliver did wake up, it wasn't with soft kisses and sighs. It wasn't gently, the way Felicity wished for him.

No, Felicity knew immediately when Oliver regained awareness because his whole body went stiff. And not the good kind of stiff, no fun sexy-times stiffness here.

Instead, Oliver's whole body coiled tight. He seemed to stop breathing.

Holding her breath, Felicity waited. It was long before they had gotten together that she had learned to be wary of panic attacks and nightmares. Though, she really didn't think that this was that…but…

Felicity listened as Oliver's heart started to pound behind her back, trying to keep her own heart from matching it. There was no reason to panic. Yet.

It was long moments before Oliver finally started to settle back down, his muscles loosening and his heart rate returning to a less alarming rate. Though his hold on her, somehow, tightened.

O…kay. That was…not new, per se, but…

Felicity took a deep breath (subtly, she hoped) and murmured, softly, "Good morning."

Her finger lightly soothed the outside of his forearm and Oliver snuggled his face deeper into her neck, his short beard tickling her. Felicity's own anxiety started to fade some, but…

Weeell, that hadn't exactly been a reassuring reaction to waking up with her in his arms. Felicity really didn't think Oliver would have second thoughts, but…dear God she would kill him. She really would.

"Morning," Oliver murmured and Felicity could feel his lips move along her skin as he said it. But as comforting and arousing as that was…

"You okay?" she whispered and the arm muscle serving as her pillow jumped. Felicity turned her head to press a kiss on the bicep as an apology for any discomfort she had caused. "Other than a nasty case of pins and needles." She really hoped that was the worst of it and she wasn't sure if a joke was the best call, but it was her instinctual go-to.

A soft rumble of a sleepy laugh helped Felicity breathe again. It was going to be okay. No need to overreact. Oliver's sleep had never been…event free and for all she knew it could have gotten worse in their time apart.

Oliver's arm flexed and the hand attached to Felicity's pillow uncurled, stretching his fingers. "It was well worth any pins or needles that may come."

Oliver leaned in to kiss Felicity's cheek (which was definitely more of what she had been hoping for). Then he reached out to grab an (actual) pillow and scrunch it under her head so he could remove his arm. But before she could start overthinking again, he laid his now free arm on the pillow above her head and snuggled the rest of his body closer.

"You take such good care of me," Felicity hummed, tenderness threatening to overwhelm her. All the subtle ways he cared for her…they left her breathless. But it wasn't a substitute for communication. "But you didn't answer my question."

"Am I okay?" Oliver repeated, chuckling. He was trying sound lighthearted, but…really, he was fooling precisely no one. "Honey, I'm more than okay."

His suggestive tone wasn't fooling Felicity either. Or distracting her. Much. The hand that drew slow circles on her belly, however, dragging up to the underside of her breasts…

"Oliver…"

Swallowing, Oliver's hand paused, seriousness creeping back into his voice as he said, "I was…it took me a minute is all. To remember. To believe that this is happening. That we're…back." He hugged her tighter, his lips dragging back and forth over her shoulder.

Understanding washed over Felicity and she took a deep breath, pulling air in through her nose. While Oliver was certainly taking longer than she would have expected to feel confident in their coupli-ness, she…she understood. She really did.

"Sometimes, I think…it's almost easier to accept the bad things, than to believe the good ones are…real," Felicity whispered. "Less scary, almost. Less to lose." Did that make sense? She kinda felt like she had just made less sense than Oliver had.

Oliver paused, pulling her even more tightly back against him again, his touch more soothing than arousing in that moment. "Yeah…" His voice was thick with emotion. "Yeah…though, I…I hate that you feel that way."

Felicity rolled her eyes (it was of wasted effort since Oliver couldn't see, but whatever). "And I wish that you didn't feel that way. But…I need you to realize that…to accept that this started for me long before I met you, that bad things were happening to me before I met you…" Her throat was starting to close and she had to force out, "But you…you are the best thing that has ever happened to me."

"Felicity…" Oliver sounded as choked up as she felt and, perversely, that only made the urge to cry stronger. It always did.

Oliver pushed himself up as if he wanted to look in her eyes, but then seemed to change his mind and he curled over her instead, pressing his closed eyes to her cheekbone.

"Felicity, sometimes…sometimes, I have no idea who this person you keep talking about is." Oliver huffed out a soft chuckle against her cheek. "I just keep thinking it couldn't possibly be me. I—"

Shifting just enough to meet his eyes, Felicity dragged a hand over his face, turning it to hers. "I see you, Oliver Queen. I know you. Faults…numerous as they are…and all. Do you doubt that?"

Oliver shook his head, eyebrows creased, his face not even twitching at her attempt at humor. "No. No one has ever known me, understood me, the way you do."

He was such a strange, contrary man.

Smiling softly, Felicity stroked his cheek with her thumb and asked, "Then…Oliver, why do you have such a hard time believing—?"

Capturing her hand and holding it to his mouth, Oliver pressed a kiss hard against her palm. When he spoke it was muffled so that Felicity had to strain to hear even in the perfect silence. "I just can't understand how someone so smart, so good, could know me and still forgive me…could give me another chance. Not just after I lied about William, but after…everything I've done—"

"Oliver, stop this…" There was nothing more painful to witness than his self-hatred. "When are you going to forgive yourself? Because I…I forgive you. Completely."

His eyes closed, a full body shutter vibrating through his large frame as Oliver took a shaky breath. He lowered himself so he was once again behind her and Felicity couldn't help but think it was so he could hide his face in her shoulder. He curled around her and she wondered if he had ever curled around a real teddy bear the way he did with her.

"I thought I had," Oliver finally confessed. "Or, at least, that I was starting to forgive myself. It's just that…I want everything for you. I want you to have the best life can offer."

Felicity's fingers gently stroked the tense arm that banded around her middle. "And you're not the best?"

"Not even close," Oliver huffed, that familiar note of self-deprecation in his almost chuckle.

"Then we will have to agree to disagree. For now, at least, because I am quite certain you are the best." But, then, Felicity took a deep breath and gave voice to the niggling worry that had started to build again in her belly. "Are you going to leave me because you think I deserve better?"

She held her breath as she waited for Oliver's response. Felicity didn't think she could—

"No," Oliver said, firmly, before Felicity could even finish that thought and she let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding. His palm moved to rest over her heart and he swore, fiercely, practically using his Arrow growl, "Never."

And…thank fraking God. It brought tears to Felicity's eyes and her throat burned. It was insane that she felt as relieved as she did, but…it turned her muscles to jelly the relief was so intense. "So…"

"As long as you choose me, Felicity, I'm here," Oliver murmured into her ear. "You have that right. You get to choose me, even if I think that it's a stupid choice."

The last part Oliver said in a light tone. It was clearly an attempt at a joke. Felicity thought, maybe, he expected her to laugh. She didn't.

"What would it take?" Felicity whispered back, completely seriousness. "To make you believe that I made the right choice?"

Felicity could feel Oliver swallow behind her, his whole body pressed as tightly against her as it was. "Fifty years?"

In this, too, it was clear Oliver was trying to insert humor, but the raspy tone and…well, every aspect of his body language told her something very different. Maybe, Felicity knew him too well.

But even so, it made Felicity smile. Because he was serious. And because fifty years sounded so damn wonderful. She hugged the arm around her middle closer and reached up to entwine her fingers with the hand above her head.

"I can agree to fifty years. Though, I might need sixty. Sixty years of waking up just like this…"

It slipped out before she knew what she was saying and Felicity's mouth went dry. And…Oliver froze. Again.

Goddamn it. Felicity was getting tired of this.

Then Oliver cleared his throat and murmured softly, "What about taking things one step at a time?"

Well, Felicity could at least take comfort in the fact that Oliver wasn't going to avoid the hard conversations, right? But…fraking 'one step at a time.' She was so Goddamn sick of that phrase.

"You know what?" Felicity's voice was stronger and steadier this time. "You and I have taken a lot of steps these last two days. Hundreds…thousands of steps. From one side of that damn island to the other. Over mountains and around landmines, underground…I took so many damn steps in that stupid underground chamber that I probably left a path in the gazillion year-old magic rock."

Oliver chuckled behind her back and it sounded a little bit lighter, more relaxed. This time, he didn't seem to be forcing it.

So Felicity kept going, "I'm tired of steps. I'm ready for non-steps. For lots of horizontal, off the ground, non-stepping."

Felicity wasn't sure if that even made any kind of sense to anyone but her. If that. Oliver didn't answer right away and, well, that made her think that, no, no sense was made.

But, then, Felicity felt Oliver's nose pushing away the hair on the back of her neck before he began lavishing slow, open-mouthed kisses along the top of her spine.

It was enough to make Felicity shiver, tension draining from her limbs as Oliver whispered against her, "I think I can get on board with that horizontal, non-stepping."

And, yeah, maybe, Oliver knew her better than Felicity knew herself. Sometimes, it was a two-way street.

Felicity huffed out a laugh. Oliver was probably deflecting, putting off another conversation about how they wanted to proceed with this new relationship.

But, maybe, it was Felicity who had done the deflecting. Or, maybe, she was tired of talking. She wanted to do. To feel. To connect. To move forward.

Maybe, there was such a thing as over-communication. Or, maybe, they just needed a little more non-verbal communication. That was something Oliver and Felicity had always excelled at.

Section removed because of explicit content. Readers over 18 can read it at Archive of Our Own.

"I love you," Oliver murmured, soft and low, his words almost slurred in relaxation. His limbs fell back to their previous position, spooning Felicity, enveloping her in warmth.

And Felicity smiled, an intense contentment permeating her bones as she closed her eyes and enjoyed just being.

Fifty years? Yes, that would be a good start. Every morning. Every night. This was how Felicity wanted to spend them. 18,250. That was how many nights and mornings that would await them. It may just be enough.

She thought that she should probably reply to Oliver, tell him everything he made her feel. At a minimum, she should say she loved him too. But as she snuggled back into him, Felicity found herself drifting off in the haze that was this perfect moment.

Thoughts of thousands more just like this tickled her dreams and Felicity fell asleep smiling.