Author's note: Get ready for some feels, my darlings! Feels, both good and bad, abound in this chapter. Please, don't forget to review. They seriously make my day!


Wednesday night found Felicity miserable, pouting angrily in her hospital bed, arms crossed over her chest in a show of impatience.

"You're adorable when you pout, you realize that, right?" Oliver raised an eyebrow in her direction.

"Do you realize how long it's been since I've had a proper shower?" She demanded. "Too. Fucking. Long."

"Felicity!" Oliver laughed out loud, feigning shock.

Felicity cursing was one of his favorite things in the entire world. She did it so rarely and only when she was well and truly angry, or frustrated. Any time a vulgarity fell from her lips, Oliver found himself amused and more than a little aroused. He'd never admit it to her but seeing his tiny blonde hurricane reach Category 5 status was a complete turn on. She was a force to be reckoned with when she was angry and he loved seeing her in action.

"Dr. Tenner will be here any minute. If he says it's okay, I'll stop arguing."

"I don't give a rat's ass whether it's okay or not. One way or another, I'm getting in that shower, tonight." she promised, her tone determined.

Not five minutes later, Dr. Tenner entered the room, having no idea what he was walking into. "Miss Smoak." he greeted, picking up her chart. "How are you feeling?"

"Pissed." she deadpanned.

"She wants to take a shower." Oliver informed him, trying not chuckle.

Dr. Tenner read over her chart, humming to himself. The longer he read, the more agitated Felicity became.

Finally, he looked up from the metal clipboard and nodded to Oliver. "A shower is fine. Does she need a nurse to assist?"

"She," Felicity growled, "is right here! And no, she does not need a nurse. She is more than capable of showering without someone's help!"

Shaking his head, Oliver scrubbed a hand over his mouth, trying to hide his grin. If he laughed at her while she was angry it would only serve to piss her off more. And while that was something he, himself, would enjoy he didn't want her to put added stress on her body.

"Well, if you're sure, then I have no objections. Just be gentle where there are still sutures and let your nurse know when you're done so he can redo your bandages." Dr. Tenner said, ignoring the way Oliver's jaw tensed and then added, "Also, if you think that you're ready, and you have someone who can help you, I'd be willing to release you in the morning."

Felicity blinked up at him, her eyes wide with surprise. "Really? I can go home?"

"You'll have to keep your activity light, but yes, I think going home is well within the realm of reason."

Felicity turned to Oliver and stuck her tongue out petulantly.

"Thank you, Doctor." Oliver shook the older man's hand and then he was gone.

When Oliver turned back to Felicity, she was already struggling to push herself from the bed, her feet dangling nearly twelve inches from the floor. They'd removed the IVs and electrodes the morning before, leaving her with only the heart monitor sensor on her finger, which she left dangling over the side of her bed.

"Hey." He moved toward her as she slid further out of the bed. "Take it easy."

"I'm fine, Oliver." She told him, though she winced when she put weight on her right leg.

Ignoring her protests, he bent to slip her arm around his shoulders, taking her weight so she didn't have to support it on her own. He helped her limp toward the bathroom, where he leaned her against the vanity. He turned the water on in the small shower stall, letting the hot water fill the room with steam.

"Can you untie my gown?" Felicity asked, turning her back and offering the knots to him.

Oliver untied each one, letting her gown fall open inch by inch. He swallowed hard against the expletive he wanted to utter at the sight of all the bandages covering her back. He knew they were there but seeing them, even for the second time, drew the anger to the surface.

"You have to take the bandages off, too." he reminded her, his voice tight. "I can do the ones back here, if you want."

Felicity didn't speak, opting to nod instead. She was busy carefully avoiding seeing her reflection and was grateful that the mirror was quickly fogging over.

One at a time, Oliver removed three white bandages from her shoulders, the middle of her back, and the area right above her panty line, where he knew she wouldn't be able to reach, revealing a total of nine larger wounds, as well as several smaller ones. Before she asked, Oliver knelt behind her, unwinding the gauze around her ankles that covered the rope burns where she'd been bound.

"Okay, that's it for back here." he informed her through clenched teeth, standing to toss the ball of gauze and tape into the trash can. "You've got the rest?"

"Yeah, I can get them. Thank you." She was avoiding his eyes and he didn't like it, but he wouldn't push her.

"Alright." He nodded, leaning into the shower to adjust the water temperature. "I'll be right outside, so yell if you need anything."

Felicity watched him slip out, leaving the door open a crack as he went. She knew he didn't stray too far from the bathroom, catching the shadow of his feet move back and forth beneath the door as he paced outside. The sight of light spilling in under the door brought a memory to the forefront of her mind, making Felicity shudder.

Shaking it off, she shrugged out of her gown, letting it slip off her shoulders and pool around her feet and pushed her panties down to meet it. Steeling herself, she squared her shoulders and got to work removing the rest of her bandages. She started with the one around her right thigh. Aside from the burns on her pelvis and the stab wound beneath the burn on the right, the gash on the inside of her right thigh had been one of the deepest injuries. The stitches were still in place, the skin around them red and puckering angrily. As she looked at the wound she recalled the pain of it being inflicted. She could practically feel the knife slicing through her flesh at that moment.

Wrestling with her emotions, sh made her shaking hands move, to lift the bandages at her hipbones covering the twin burns on each side. Her stomach rolled and she had to close her eyes, to block out the sight. Bracing herself, she moved on to the next and lifted the tape holding the bandage over the right side of her torso, from under her breast to the middle of her belly, revealing three long, partially healed wounds that followed the curve of her ribs. The two in the center were the deepest, sutures still holding them closed. The skin was partially knit back together, though there were a few patches that remained open. The other two were mostly healed, much to her relief. Just below those marks were three smaller incisions, left behind from the emergency surgery to stop the internal bleeding. Those were mostly healed, as well.

With each bandage she lifted, Felicity relived the injury's creation. She experienced the memory like it was playing out in real time, her heart pounding in her chest and filling her ears. Forcing herself to continue, she moved to the bandages covering the left half of her chest. There were two wounds beneath them, in different stages of healing. The first was in the delicate skin of the swell of her breast. It was almost healed, the stitches had already been taken out. Felicity could count the holes where the sutures had been as her eyes traced the scar tissue, still red and raw. The second was in the valley between her breasts, directly over her heart. It was a little more than four inches long and deeper than the other, its sutures still firmly in place.

That was the wound that kept her awake at night. That was the one that she couldn't stop reliving, even when she couldn't see it.

She gave herself a mental slap before she unwound the gauze covering her wrists the way Oliver had done at her ankles. The skin was still shredded, rope burns embedded deeply in the soft flesh. Wiping the pile of cotton and tape off the counter,and into the garbage can, she released a breath in a violent burst of air. She limped to the shower, testing the water with her hand. Oliver had been conscious of her wounds and newly healed skin, adjusting the temperature to a comfortable warmth.

She stepped under the spray, wincing when the water stung her injuries. Air hissed between her teeth, but she made herself stay still. She had to lean against the cold tile to steady herself as flashes of memory assuaged her. Her hands balled into fists, her nails biting into her skin as she struggled to regain her calm. She took a deep breath to recenter herself and then pushed away from the wall.

Felicity made herself pour shampoo into her palm, then lather it into her strands. She leaned back, letting the water rinse the suds down her back. The marks on her skin burned when the shampoo hit them, but she fought to ignore it. She repeated the process, lathering her hair and rinsing once more, before she put conditioner in. She massaged it into her scalp, moaning softly at the sensation. It felt good, gentle fingers kneading into her roots after having it forcefully yanked, repeatedly. She forwent the use of a shower puff, not wanting to catch her stitches on its mesh. Instead, she poured body wash into her palm and used her hands to cleanse her skin with the suds. Using the side of her hand as a guide, she made sure to avoid getting too close to the wounds that were still partially open. She stood under the warm cascade of water, letting it wash over her and enjoying the way the heat pulled some of the aches out of her muscles.

"Felicity?" Oliver called, his tone worried.

"I'm almost done." she responded, taking another moment to revel in the peace of the tiny shower stall.

She hadn't been alone since before she'd been taken, and she was glad to have the time to herself. Having Oliver by her side was wonderful, but she was enjoying the absolute seclusion afforded to her by the shower.

Reluctantly, she shut the water off and reached for a towel. She patted her face dry, careful to avoid the still sensitive edge of her cheekbone. She wrapped the towel around her hair, winding it back and tucking the end to secure it. As she reached for the second towel, she caught sight of her reflection in the mirror. A soft gasp escaped her lips and her hand flew to her mouth as she saw herself for the first time. She'd been diligent about avoiding seeing her reflection. She hadn't wanted to see the damage the Count had inflicted, hadn't wanted to see the proof on her skin. The lower water temperature and Oliver leaving the door cracked had allowed the fog to dissipate, the mirror clearly reflecting her image back to her.

"Oh my God..." she breathed, her eyes raking over her naked body.

For the first time, she saw the full extent of her injuries. She lifted a shaking hand to her cheek, her fingers brushing over the swollen skin. She'd expected it to be bruised, but the sickly yellow and purple bruise that extended from her eye to her jaw had her stomach turning again. Her eyes dropped to the cut across her breast and her fingers trembled as they traced its path. Her gaze continued its journey down, finding the gashes over her ribs and the burns on her pelvis, the skin around the right one bruised a deep purple. She angled her body so that she could get a better look at her back. Another, louder gasp passed her lips as she took in the crisscross of slashes on her back. She'd known they were there, she remembered receiving them and could feel them every time she moved. Still, she was shocked to see how many of them there were and how many still had stitches in them.

On trembling legs, she stepped from the shower, tightening the towel around her trembling body. She limped to the toilet and sank down on its closed lid.

"Everything alright?" Oliver asked from the crack in the doorway, keeping his eyes averted.

"I... I'll be out in a minute." she called back, unable to keep the quaver of tears out of her voice.

Oliver was in the bathroom, kneeling in front of her before she could blink. He took both of her hands in his and looked up into her tear streaked face. "Hey," he whispered, "talk to me." She shook her head, swiping fingers under her eyes to wipe away the moisture that had managed to escape. "Felicity, let me help you." he pled, not caring for a second that Oliver Queen was begging. "I've been where you are, I know how difficult it can be. I know that it feels like you're alone, like no one can possibly understand how much pain you're in. But, I'm right here. I'm not going anywhere... There is nothing in the world that can change that. There's nothing you can ever say, or do, that will make me walk away. Do you understand me?"

Felicity didn't speak as she reached for him, shifting forward to band her arms around his neck. He stood, hooking an arm behind her knees and lifted her. He tucked her tiny frame to his chest as she burrowed her face against his throat, hot tears slipping beneath the collar of his black t-shirt. Oliver carried her from the bathroom and sank into one of the chairs beside her bed. His arms wrapped around her waist, holding her as tightly as he dared while her body shook with the force of her sobs. He pressed his lips to her collarbone, whispering words of comfort against her skin.

Neither of them knew how long they sat locked together that way. Felicity eventually loosened her hold, letting her head press against his chest with her arms resting in her lap as she counted his heartbeats. Oliver let a hand trail up and down the length of her arm soothingly.

"Does it ever stop?" she asked quietly, knowing that he'd understand what she was asking.

"No." he answered honestly. "Eventually it fades, so that it's not so vivid. It starts to feel like watching a shitty quality movie, instead of like you're living and breathing it."

Felicity contemplated his answer as she toyed with the hem of her towel. "I didn't realize how hard it would hit me." she confessed, her voice quiet. "Seeing the physical proof, all of it at once... It was more intense than I thought it would be."

Oliver sighed, pressing a gentle kiss to her temple. "The scars will fade, too." he promised.

"Not entirely." she reasoned flatly. "They'll always be there, reminding me of what happened."

"Reminding you of what you survived." he rectified. "Of how strong you are and how hard you fought to stay alive... To come home."

Felicity turned her face into his chest, breathing him into her lungs. The corner of her mouth twitched when she felt him tighten his arms around her. She shivered, his skin warm against her exposed flesh.

"You should get dressed." Oliver told her, though he made no move to release her.

"Probably." she agreed as she snuggled closer to his chest. "I have to do something with my hair, too or I'm going to look like Medusa."

Oliver shifted under her, so that he was supporting her with one hand on her thigh. He reached for the towel around her head, tugging the end free and letting her hair fall loose. He ran his fingers through the damp ringlets, smiling softly when Felicity practically purred.

"I can braid it for you, if you want." he offered casually.

Felicity's head popped up, meeting his eye with a brow lifted in question. "You can braid hair?"

He chuckled, wrapping a curl around his finger. "Don't sound so surprised. I'm pretty good with my hands, you know."

Felicity snorted. "A bow and arrow are a far cry from hairbrushes and french braids."

"You can thank Thea." he explained with a fond grin. "She made me learn when she was little. She would never let my mom do her hair, always asking for me or my dad. So, I learned how to do a few of the basics."

Felicity stared at him, her jaw hanging open in surprise. "How did I not know this about you?" she balked.

Oliver shrugged one shoulder. "It never came up."

He stood, lifting her with him, and crossed the room to set her in the middle of her bed. He slipped in behind her with one leg dangling over the edge and started brushing out her hair. She closed her eyes to the sensation, forcing back the sigh of pleasure rising to her lips. Felicity sat still as he began winding her hair back. He made quick work of it and she was shocked when he tied the end off with a hair tie he found on the table beside the bed.

She felt his hands on her shoulders and the warmth of his body against her back, when he leaned into her. "Done." he said, a bit proudly if his tone was any indication.

Felicity lifted a hand to run it over the plait. "Impressive, Mr. Queen." She grinned as he shifted out from behind her to stand next to the bed.

He returned her smile before making his way to the the little closet by the door. The bag Digg and Lyla brought her was tucked inside, sitting on a shelf. Oliver pulled it down and brought it to Felicity so she could go through it, to find what she wanted to wear. She settled on a pair of loose-fitting, gray sweatpants and a white t-shirt that had, once upon a time, belonged to Oliver. She decided against putting on a bra since the band would cross right over one of the deeper cuts on her back and put pressure on the sutured wound over her heart. Instead, she opted to pull a cami on to give her a little extra coverage.

"Before you get dressed, your wounds need to be covered." Oliver reminded her.

She frowned, chewing on her bottom lip. "Do we have to call the nurse? Can't you just do it?"

"It's up to you. If you'd rather I do it, that's fine." he agreed, already pulling gauze and tape down from the cabinet beside her closet.

"Normally, I wouldn't object to having a medical professional tend to my wounds." she offered her explanation, though she knew he didn't need one. "But, considering where they are and how I got them... I'd just prefer if you did it."

Oliver met her eyes, conveying his understanding, and she smiled her thanks.

"You might want to at least put on the panties and the tank-top." he pointed out.

Oliver turned his back to her while she dressed, after she declined his assistance. He had to force himself to stay turned around while he listened to her struggle to step into the underwear. He knew it was hard for her to bend any significant amount.

With a growl of frustration, having only managed to hook one foot into the waist of her panties, she relented. "Fine." she grumbled. "I need help."

Fighting the smirk that threatened to turn up the corners of his lips, Oliver turned to face her. His eyes were drawn to the long expanse of her bare legs before he reminded himself that she was still healing. He gave himself a sharp reprimand as he moved to take the pink cotton bikini cut underwear from her hand. He squatted down, letting her balance herself with a hand on his shoulder, and helped her step into them. He dragged them up to the bottom of her thighs before letting her finish pulling them up. She shimmied them under the towel, wincing as the thin fabric snagged on the stitches on the inside of her thigh. Ignoring the twinge of pain, she pulled the cami over her head, covering her breasts before she let the towel drop. Oliver bent to pick it up and threw it over the back of one of the chairs.

He helped her lift herself up, so that she was perched on the edge of the bed. Dragging a chair over, he settled into it with her feet propped between his legs. He started with her ankles, re-wrapping them easily and securing the bandages in place with tape. He let one of her feet drop, bending her right knee up so he could better access the injury on the inside of her thigh. As delicately as he could manage, he wound the gauze high around her thigh, covering the wound and then taping it off. Clearing his throat, his pulse feeling a little quicker than normal, Oliver pushed the chair back and made his way behind her. He lifted the back of her top and set to work dressing the multitude of gashes on her back. He worked quickly. Having dressed his fair share of wounds, he was well practiced in the action.

When he finished with her back, he pulled the back of her top down, covering some of the bandages. He stepped back around the bed, coming to stop in front of her. "Lift your shirt." he ordered, though his words were soft.

She complied, lifting the fabric to her navel and leaned back so he could dress the burns on her pelvis. She winced when he pressed the tape into her right hip but he didn't notice, for which she was thankful. Oliver unfolded the fabric of her camisole, covering the gauze. He pointed to her wrists next and she offered them to him. He finished one, placing it gently in her lap before starting the next. Oliver let his fingers linger on the thin skin of her forearm when he finished wrapping the second. His eyes started to lift to hers, but were derailed when he caught sight of the wound over her heart. Felicity watched his eyes darken and could feel the emotions rolling off of him.

"I'm so sorry." Oliver whispered, catching her off guard, his head hanging as if in shame.

Felicity's eyebrows knit together as she stared blankly at the sandy blonde hair at his crown. "I don't understand." she admitted. "What on earth do you have to be sorry for?"

Oliver shook his head, not lifting it to meet her gaze. He took her left hand in his and pressed it to his cheek, but his head remained bowed. "I'm sorry that I didn't protect you." he told her hoarsely. "I'm sorry that I let him get anywhere near you in the first place. I'm sorry that I took so long to find you, and that I couldn't stop him from hurting you."

"None of this is your fault, Oliver." Felicity told him with conviction that she felt in every bone in her body, her thumb rubbing delicate circles into his cheek. He finally raised his head and she could see the pain and guilt swirling in the blue depths of his eyes. Those eyes fell to the dip between her breasts and he lifted his right hand, letting a finger ghost over the skin beside the wound there. Felicity shivered, both from his touch and the memory that accompanied the wound. "That one is the worst." she whispered, letting her hands fall back into her lap, her fingers wringing themselves.

"Do you want to tell me about it?" he asked, his tone so brittle that it hurt her soul.

She warred with herself, unsure if telling him would make him feel better or worse. She decided that it would make her feel better and that was reason enough to share it with him. She couldn't meet his eyes while she spoke, so she stared at a spot on the floor as the words tumbled out.

"All of the other... things, that he did to me..." she struggled to explain. "They were all about him and his ability to hurt me. But, this was different. This one was all about hurting you and using me to do it. Every day, he tried to convince me that you weren't coming. He told me that you thought I was dead and that you weren't even looking for me." She didn't see the flash of pain that darkened his face. "I guess he thought that he could undo everything between us. Break the bond... When I didn't waver, he got really angry. He told me that he was going to send me back to you, piece by piece..." She choked on the words as tears welled in her eyes.

Oliver didn't interrupt, knowing that she needed to get this out, no matter how much the words hurt both of them. He took her hand again, squeezing it encouragingly.

With a deep breath she continued. "He said that my heart... My heart was the last piece he'd send you because it was the part of me that held onto you the tightest. He gave me this," She indicated the gash over her heart, "when he threatened to cut it out, the first time. I guess to prove he was serious or something."

Oliver was quiet, her words echoing around his mind. When he finally spoke, it was through the lump in his throat. "You said that one is the worst?" He let his eyes flicker to her chest. Felicity nodded, still staring at the floor. "Your worst wound is the one meant to hurt me?" She nodded again and he could see the tears dripping onto her lap. He slipped a finger under her chin, lifting it gently so that he could see her face. "Felicity." he murmured, the single word conveying everything that he couldn't bring himself to say. She reluctantly met his eyes and was shocked to see moisture glistening there. "I..." Words seemed to escape him.

He stood suddenly, forcing her to tilt her head back to keep her eyes on his. Cupping a hand to the side of her neck, his thumb traced the edge of her jaw. He dipped his head, letting his lips brush over her forehead. His lips moved delicately over one cheek and then the other. Felicity's eyes fluttered closed as she was overwhelmed by the gentleness of the action. She felt his hands slide over her skin, coming to rest on each side of her jaw. His thumb grazed over her bottom lip and her breath hitched at the contact. Before she realized his thumb had moved, it was replaced with his lips, maddeningly soft against hers.

Their first kiss had been a storm. A clash of thunder and lightning too long trapped in a bottle. A violent explosion of things that had long been suppressed, things they had tried desperately to ignore. This kiss was like coming home. It was comfortable, as though they'd done it a million times over. It was quiet, like an open field in the middle of the falling snow. It was calming and peaceful, and neither of them knew a kiss could feel so much like finding something you hadn't known was lost.

Oliver held her face to his, his lips stroking over hers with heartbreaking tenderness. He felt her hands at his wrists, holding him to her as though she were afraid he might disappear. Her lips moved with his, pressing into his with gentle encouragement. Oliver took the hint, his kiss becoming more firm, his lips seeking more from hers. He sucked her bottom lip between his, flicking it with his tongue.

Felicity moaned softly, her heart hammering in her ears. One of the hands at his wrist reached up to curl around his neck, pulling him closer. His lips slanted over hers briefly before he broke the contact. He rested his forehead against hers, his eyes closed tightly as he tried to reign himself in.

Both of them were panting and Oliver thought that he felt his hands tremble just the slightest bit when he brushed his thumb over her lips again.

"I..." Felicity cleared her throat. "I wasn't expecting that."

"I've been trying to do that for weeks." Oliver chuckled softly, pressing a quick kiss to her forehead before reluctantly pulling away.

"To be fair, I was indisposed for almost two of them." She smiled at him as he sank into the chair behind him.

He rubbed the bridge of his nose, grimacing. "That's not funny."

"It's a little funny." She grinned.

Never able to resist her smile, he relented and gave her a small smile of his own. Because, no one in the world could make him smile the way she did.

"There it is." She winked. "Now, can we finish my partial mummification?"

"In a hurry to be somewhere?" Oliver asked, but he was already standing to pick up a square of gauze.

Felicity nodded, smiling again. "Didn't you hear? I get to go home tomorrow!"