A/N: (April 18, 2014) Ok so a HUGE BIG GREAT LARGE thank you to Devaue Fawkes! I'm going to go through and redo the chapters from this point forward because I don't like how the series is playing out when it comes to Felicity and Oliver AND I started this story as Olicity. So after some recommendations from Devaue Fawkes, I'm going to rewrite some of the chapters and pick back up. I honestly just wasn't into finishing this story, so I'm going to give this a try. Going to stick with most of the storyline from the episodes, but instead of Sara and Oliver getting together, Felicity and Oliver will get together and it will be between the scenes and such from the perspective...Stick with me and I hope you enjoy the new line!

"Are you ready to introduce your mother?" the man heading his mother's campaign asked with a charming smile.

"With pride," he answered with his own. He was still distracted by Felicity's reaction to his mother's approach and he became even more concerned when she flinched at his response. He trusted his instincts when it came to life-or-death situations, but when it came to people, he would always trust Felicity's.

So he grabbed her by the elbow and towed her to the side before he took the stage.

"Felicity," he over-enunciated each syllable of her name, wanting her full attention and wanting her to know that he would stand there all day until she told him what was bothering her. "What is wrong—"

"Nothing—" she tried to interrupt, but he was ready.

"—and don't say 'nothing.'" He finished. He leveled his gaze, unconsciously taking a step closer to her in an attempt to shield her from several hot gazes he could feel burning his back

"Might have noticed I talk a lot," she mumbled out quickly and he almost laughed.

"It has not escaped my attention," he answered softly, willing to wait for her to feel comfortable enough to tell him whatever she felt so afraid to say aloud. And she was afraid—the tension radiated off her small frame.

"You might have also noticed I don't talk a lot about my family. My mother," she rolled her eyes, looking for the right words, but he didn't rush her. "Well, she's my mother. And I don't really know what my father is because he abandoned us. I barely remember him, but I do remember how much it hurt when he left, and just the thought of losing someone that important to me again…" her voice broke as tears threatened to spill over. Oliver wanted to do anything within his power to make this right and yet he had never felt so helpless.

"Hey," he whispered softly, stepping closer. "You are not going to lose me. Whatever it is that's bothering you," he stressed. Anything—anyone—that was hurting her would pay. "Is it your family?"

"No," she whispered and he leaned in closer, confused. "It's yours."

She looked up at him, her blue eyes like crystal and for just one moment his heart stopped. He turned to see Thea smiling and laughing on the stage, healthy and happy. His mother was looking at him with concern—and something else, something darker—but there was no immediate threat.

"I don't understand," he looked at Felicity, knowing that whatever was going on was serious enough to have her afraid and that meant it was a severe threat. She looked hesitant and she spared one last look at his mother before she looked at him, determined.

"Your mother transferred a large sum of money from the Tempest account that had been set up after the whole ordeal with the Gambit which I'm sure you remember—of course you remember, you where on the boat—anyway, a few weeks ago she transferred two million dollars to the doctor that delivered Thea," she looked at him as if that was supposed to make sense.

"Felicity," he muttered. She was brilliant, but she still hadn't caught on to the fact that his brain did not work as fast as hers did.

"It didn't make sense to me either, but I did some digging and well Oliver, I—the trial, and I dug up some DNA reports after Thea was born and her affair with Merlyn—and it all made more sense," Felicity looked at him, pointedly.

"Felicity," he whispered. He needed her to say it. He knew that she knew that he had been with enough women to know about the possibility of illegitimate children and he refused to believe that Thea, his sister, was the result of his mother's poor decisions.

"She's Malcolm Merlyn's daughter, Oliver, and Mrs. Queen paid the good doctor a large sum of money to keep that well hidden," Felicity looked at him with her brave face on and he suddenly realized why she was afraid to tell him. The phrase don't kill the messenger came to mind.

So he did something completely out of bounds for their relationship. He bent slowly forward so that Felicity would understand exactly what he was doing. Her eyes widened, but she didn't back away as he placed a kiss delicately against her temple. As he turned to walk towards the podium, he looked directly at his mother.

Now, he worked his frustrations out on the dummy to the point of physical pain. He welcomed it. When he reached the point of emotional numbness, it was nice to know that he could at least feel something.

When Sara walked into the Arrow Cave—god, he was even using Felicity's pet names—he honestly couldn't even remember what they had said to each other before he had fisted his hands into her blonde hair.

Blonde hair that he couldn't help but, briefly, wish were someone else's.

When he ripped her shirt over her head he found himself amazed at the now unfamiliar body underneath. Where once there had been curves and lines of soft skin, now was hard muscle and proof of the last 6 years of hell. He and Sara shared history, pain, and scars. They were both dark. Two broken people would never make a whole.

And he couldn't deny that right now, he wanted-no needed-light. He nearly shoved Sara away in his rush to get away from her. She saw the wild look in his eyes and he was grateful that they didn't hold judgment. She simply nodded, understanding.

He stalked over to Felicity's computers and fired up one of the monitors, breathing easier when he could see the small blip that represented the one woman he loved but knew he could never deserve.

"You've changed, Oliver," she looked at him, a small smile forming on her lips and he laughed once without humor.

"Of all of the people who will lose their soul in this war, she is the one I will never forgive myself for. I used to think that Laurel was my greatest sin—for what I did to her, to you," he looked at her, knowing that Sara would know what he meant. "But Felicity never should have been a part of this life."

"But now she is," she said simply. "So what are you going to do about it?"

"I don't know," he whispered. Sara was the only woman he could think of that would allow him to have his hands all of her and immediately afterwards talk about someone else. Sara wasn't jealous, she wasn't hurt. She understood, and perhaps if Oliver could survive this-could find someone to love-then maybe, just maybe she could too.

"I like her," she said, and when Oliver looked at her, eyebrow raised she smacked him, a true smile on both of their faces. "Not like that! She's safe from me Ollie," she laughed, smacking him again. "She makes me feel normal. When I first showed up, she made some joke about me joining the League—compared it to a time she joined a gym," she rolled her eyes, but Oliver laughed.

"Felicity and exercise don't really mix," he explained as he shook his head fondly.

He looked at the blip-Felicity for a long moment as Sara walked towards the tire and hammer he had been working out on earlier. When the signal hadn't moved for several minutes, he felt Sara's hand lightly on his back.

"Abashed the devil stood and felt how awful goodness is and saw Virtue in her shape how lovely—and pined his loss."