A/N: Yes! A new standalone trope! It's been so long! However, in my defense, QoH and TLT were technically tropes that turned into novels. But it was very nice to get back to my list and have one that sparked the muse.
This is the 'losing a sense' trope. It's not terribly over done, but it's an interesting one. I'll willingly admit I got the inspiration to have both of them lose a sense from an old episode of 'Jag' of all things. Now I don't remember the specifics of the ep, nor could I find a clip. So other than the vague memory that both of them lost a sense...that's all that was in my head from that.
It was sort of a bitch to write and was very reminiscent of the handcuffed trope in the difficulty of 'explaining' what was happening especially when the person whose pov it's from can't speak. But I enjoyed it and I think this particular trope worked really well for season 3 and where they are right now.
I hope you enjoy and I'd love to know what you think so don't be shy. :)
White sparks like tiny bursts of fireworks danced in front of her eyes as the hand around her throat grew tighter. If it wasn't for the overwhelming panic that made her lungs seize and her legs and arms flail and claw in a desperate attempt to get free, she might have been able to appreciate the morbid beauty in what she was seeing.
Instead she tried to dig her blunt nails into his gloved hands as her glasses slipped down her nose and her feet failed to make any solid contact with his body. Air became a precious commodity that she was quickly running out of. Her vision began to narrow, the sparks growing fainter until all she could see was a mad grin and sharp white teeth.
The final thought that moved sluggishly through her brain before she fully succumbed was that she wished Oliver hadn't of had to listen as the life was choked out of her. She would have done anything to spare him that.
An hour earlier they'd split into two teams on different sides of the city. The signal she'd traced had inexplicably been coming from two locations simultaneously and she hadn't been able to figure out why. Frustrated and out of time Digg and Roy had gone one way and she and Oliver had gone the other.
She had truly intended on staying in the van, hoping proximity would help her detect the dummy signal. Until she'd heard Oliver come under attack and his pained grunt. Their target incapacitated his victims with a paralyzing agent before temporarily blinding them, effectively leaving them defenseless.
She hadn't thought it through when she'd slipped through the doors of the abandoned building. Her only goal was to help Oliver, and with her heart in her throat she barely glanced around when she saw him slumped to the ground, unmoving.
The hood was half slid off, his mask still in place, but his eyes were frozen open, red and streaming and as she shakily placed a hand against his throat to feel for a pulse she knew he'd been hit with the same compounds as the other victims.
"Oliver!" she half whispered, unable to keep the fear out of her voice, "Oliver, please! You have to get up. I can't carry you. You have to get up so we can get out of here before he-"
Later she'd wonder how he could have done it, how he could have fought off, if even for a second, a paralyzing agent so strong the military had deemed it too potent. If she hadn't been staring into his eyes, pleading with him, she would have missed it. But it was there, just the smallest thread of fear as his eyes somehow widened and she knew their killer was behind her. Oliver must have heard something she didn't.
Quicker than she thought possible she drew an arrow from the quiver still strapped to his back and whirled, taking the man by surprise. She managed to knock the syringe that would have paralyzed her from his hand and sliced a long cut along his arm as she did.
He roared in anger, spinning on his heel to rush her instead of going after his weapon and in her haste to move she tripped over Oliver's outstretched legs, falling hard to her knees as she felt one hand wrap itself in her ponytail and jerk her painfully to her feet.
The arrow was knocked away, clattering mockingly to the ground as he pulled her from Oliver. She struggled to get out of his hold, reaching back to swipe at his face but he only tugged her hair harder before slamming her against an exposed beam.
All the air rushed from her lungs as her head throbbed in agony and she barely had a second to drag in a single strangled breath before his hands were wrapped tightly around her throat.
Over his shoulder she was able to see Oliver. As she fought with everything she had her heart broke knowing he had heard everything and had been unable to do anything to help her.
She hadn't expected to wake up. But the deep pain that pulsed around her throat and the ringing in her head was too much to ignore, as was the unexpected sound of Oliver saying her name.
His voice was a little slurred, pitched with a trace of panic she'd rarely heard from him and that more than anything forced her to try and open her eyes.
It took three attempts, each one allowing a little bit more of the blurry, wildly tilting space around them in. The first thing she noticed was her shoes were gone and that her bright purple toes dangled at least eighteen inches off a concrete floor.
"Felicity! Answer me, please! Tell me you're alive!"
Her head whipped up at his plea and immediately a flare of pain so intense it stole her breath and made her vision blacken washed over her. It pulsated from her throat in waves so swift and fierce she didn't know if they'd ever end. She could feel the muscles in her neck working, mouth falling open to let out the pained scream she couldn't control but there was only more pain and the faintest, softest noise.
"Felicity! Tell me you're okay!"
With tears streaming down her face but no sound coming from her she turned to her right to see Oliver hanging from a hook, hands tied together above his head. The quiver and jacket were gone, leaving him in the black t-shirt he wore underneath his suit, but it was his eyes that startled her the most. He was looking her direction but not at her. He was still blind.
She made to reach for him when it finally registered with her that she couldn't. Trying not to move her injured neck too much she carefully looked up to see that her numb arms were also tied above her head.
He wasn't struggling like she expected, or trying to free himself and it wasn't until she noticed how limp he hung that she knew the paralysis hadn't completely wore off.
"Felicity! I know you're there! Please, I can't-"
Her mouth opened and closed as she tried to ignore the pain that tore through her vocal cords and finally forced out a rasping hiss of air.
But he heard her. The relief on his face made her heart lift and she wanted nothing more than to be able to call out to him.
"You're here! I can't...I can't see!" he practically growled and the small flash of joy she'd felt for him vanished as she heard his helplessness. "The drug is wearing off. I'll get you out of here."
Every cell in her body cried out for her to connect with him in some way, but she couldn't and the bubble of panic in her chest grew, throat convulsing as she instinctively tried to swallow her tears which only caused more pain.
They were a few feet apart and she knew if he could move he'd be able to touch her but it felt like an ocean of distance. Slowly she raised one foot, wincing as it pulled on the over extended muscles in her shoulders.
The skirt of her dress was tight, but a rip up the side seam gave her more leeway and finally her cold toes managed to just brush the leather at his knee.
She heard his breath catch as her foot fell away and saw the smallest of twitches from his fingers.
"That was you. You're close. You can move, but you can't speak. You're gagged."
Her lips pressed together into a tight line as she shook her head, but she knew he couldn't see her. She just hoped the small effort she'd been able to make had helped him.
"I'm sorry...I wanted to stop him earlier. I wanted to keep him from hurting you." his teeth were clenched so tight she could see the small tendons along his neck bulge and she strained once more to touch him, this time succeeding in a longer moment of contact that seemed to bring him some comfort as the tightness in his jaw eased.
Two of his fingers moved, slowly and with no dexterity, but she knew it meant the drug was beginning to wear off. He said nothing though and she took the time to study the room they were being held in.
It was faintly lit, a few bare bulbs placed at random intervals that left much of the space dark, but she thought she could see a staircase in a far corner. There were high ceilings she couldn't fully make out and nothing but open space and concrete pillars. However, her glasses were gone as well, which left her depth perception lacking especially with the low light.
Their captor was no where to be seen and from everything they knew about his actions, taking prisoners and keeping them locked up was not how he typically operated. That sent a spike of fear through her because he'd unmasked Oliver and knew his identity. There was no way to know what he had already done with that knowledge.
There was also no way to know how long they'd been unconscious or anything to indicate where they'd been taken. Her only hope was that Digg and Roy realized they were missing and were able to find them.
The pain in her neck and shoulders was beginning to be all that she could focus on, and every time she tried to lift her head to see Oliver or tried to raise her leg to touch him again she became dizzy and nauseous.
Telling herself she was only going to rest her eyes for a minute in hopes that the throbbing in her head would dissipate she let her lids fall shut as her chin sunk to her chest. Even the swelling and pain she felt from where she'd been strangled wasn't enough to keep her head lifted and gradually the steady clink of chain on metal as Oliver tried to free his hands faded away until there was nothing.
She came to with a jolt and a gasp that made it feel like her throat was full of knives. The crashing rattle of something heavy dropping to the floor with a groaning moan had woken her up and she looked around in fright to see Oliver in a heap on the concrete below her.
He'd gotten free, but he moved slowly and she could tell he was hurt as he pushed himself to his feet and took one stumbling step forward.
Except it meant he'd moved away from her and she could feel the terror rise within her even though it was irrational. She knew he'd never leave her, knew he'd never abandon her. But tied up and mute she had no way of calling out to him and all she wanted was to have him near.
Because regardless of the awkwardness and uncertainty that had plagued them since that moment in the hospital hallway she still trusted him. It had taken them weeks to find their new normal. The one where they could share the same space without her heart trying to leap from her chest or where she'd catch him clenching his hand into a fist to keep from touching her. Those things still happened, but not as often. But he'd caught her staring and she'd caught him with a look on his face that told her he was doubting everything he'd told her. The mission came first though and through it all they still had that. Her fears that she'd lose everything were slowly being proven wrong.
He took one more uncertain step forward, thumb and forefinger of his left hand rubbing together as he itched for the familiar weight of the bow in his grasp. She watched as he paused, shut his eyes, and drew himself to his full height.
The air around them seemed to still and she was caught, rapt as his head tilted one way and then the other, and then he pivoted, so quick and smooth she couldn't believe he'd been completely paralyzed a short time earlier.
And he looked right at her.
A gasp of relief left her unbidden which she immediately regretted. But when he took four sure steps towards her and his hands raised only to fall perfectly onto her hips she thought for a second he'd regained his sight.
The feel of his hands on her, his touch, his familiar reassuring strength so close was enough to make tears well and she blinked rapidly in an attempt to make them stop but a few still escaped. Heat from his palms leached through the thin fabric of her skirt making her skin tingle where his fingers dug into her flesh.
"Felicity! Thank god," he murmured, his voice shaky with relief. But when his hands skimmed up her sides to her shoulders, feeling carefully she knew he still couldn't see.
"I'll get this gag off of you, and then-" as he talked he walked his fingers in to her neck, accidentally hitting the bruised skin there making her jerk away. "Sorry, I'll be more careful," and then one warm palm was cupping her cheek and she couldn't help turning into it. His thumb swiped away her tears and she felt his fingers searching for a gag that didn't exist.
When calloused pads whispered over her lips they both froze until he slid one hand around to the nape of her neck and found nothing.
"No gag," he said in confusion, "Then why…"
And she saw when the realization hit, his hands finding her throat again but this time the touch so careful, so light she almost didn't feel it, "Your neck. He…" his words cut off in anger and when his touch slid up to her cheek again, she trapped it between her arm and her face dipping her head twice so he'd feel her nod.
"I'm sorry I couldn't stop him," he said again, so close his breath coasted over her forehead. The guilt she heard made his voice thick and rough.
She wanted to tell him it wasn't his fault, that she didn't blame him, but she couldn't.
When he wrapped one strong arm around her waist and pulled her flush against his chest her heart flipped, until his other hand ran slowly up past her elbow to find her bound wrists. He gave her no warning, just held her tighter and lifted. She was free of the hook but had no way to control her deadened arms, as they fell in a heap between them, striking Oliver in the face.
That's when the pain hit as blood began to return to her limbs. Her head fell forward to the crook of his neck as she tried to ride it out, each ragged breath she had to take only making things worse. He alternated rubbing one shoulder and then the other, still holding her close as he muttered apologies.
When he finally sat her down she clutched at his shirt with still tied hands to keep her balance, shivering slightly as he stroked a hand over her hair. Immediately, he set to untying her and when she was loose he threw the rope to the side before his hands were once again at her neck.
"How bad is it? Are you hurt anywhere else?"
At first she was reluctant to tell him, he didn't need to worry about her anymore than he already did.
"Felicity, please. I heard you struggle. I heard him hurting you and there was nothing I could do! I need to know if you're hurt."
Slowly she wrapped her fingers around his wrists, running her thumbs over his pulse points mindful of where the skin was raw from the ropes until some of the tension eased from his shoulders. She overlapped her hand over one of his, interlacing their fingers as she lifted it from her throat and then set it back gently before lifting it again and guiding it to the back of her head where she'd been slammed into the wall.
He sucked in a breath, fingers carefully moving through her hair until he found the lump that had formed and she winced when he hit the part that was the most tender. "Sorry," he murmured, "Where else?"
She brought his hand back to her face and shook her head back and forth letting him know nothing else was so bad he needed to be worried about. She knew there were scrapes and bruises but it was nothing she couldn't deal with.
"Felicity…" he began warningly and she repeated the action until he let out a long sigh.
Then it was her turn to cautiously brush over the wound at his temple where he'd been struck.
"I'm fine," he said immediately and she gave him a lifted eyebrow out of habit even though he couldn't see.
"Let's get out of here, okay?" and before she could react he'd grabbed her hand and tugged her to follow behind him.
With a start she drew up short, mouth open in protest but she couldn't speak and he couldn't see her. But of course he would go barreling forward even without his sight. Frustration filled her. They had to find a way to work together.
"What?" he asked as he turned towards her and she could see how badly he needed to get them out of there.
Moving carefully and with her heart pounding she took his hand and raised it to her lips, breath stuttering when he touched her. Then she moved his hand back to his own mouth and paused before moving it to cover his eyes and finally bringing it to rest over her own.
It took him a moment but when he understood he nodded. "You're right. We have to communicate better. You'll have to be my eyes and I'll be your voice, okay?"
She squeezed his hand in agreement, tears pricking her vision.
"We've been moved?"
She squeezed again.
"One for yes, two for no." and she caught herself nodding before she squeezed once.
Rapid fire he asked the questions he needed answered about where they were being held and she told him as best she could considering some of his questions weren't yes or no.
"When we get to the stairs I need you to wait at the bottom."
She squeezed hard two times. There was no way she was letting him go to the top alone and blind. The stairs she'd had to explain to him were there by crudely miming them into his hand.
"Felicity-"
This time her hand flew up to cup his face, feeling the rough scrape of stubble over her palm as she directed him to look towards her even if his eyes couldn't see. They hadn't been this close since he'd kissed her, since he told her he loved her after breaking both their hearts.
She was scared, for both of them but mostly for him. She knew he'd never back down, knew he'd do whatever he had to do to get them out. But without his sight and the drug that still had to be in his system she didn't want him getting hurt.
"Hey, we're going to be okay. I'm not going to let-," he bit off his words and turned his head away from her touch, "I'm not going to let you get hurt again."
Her fingertips brushed lightly over his eyelids, making them flutter shut as she tried to get him to understand why she was so worried. He caught her trembling hand and rubbed his thumb over the knuckles before giving her a faint smile.
"You don't think I've trained blindfolded before? I'll be okay, trust me."
In a frantic almost desperate move she brought their joined hands to her cheek and nodded emphatically forgetting her injury until a pained whimper made it past her lips.
"Hey, stop. Don't try and talk. I know, okay. I know." his other hand bracketed her face and it was so reminiscent of how he'd held her when they kissed she felt her heart stutter in her chest.
He must have recognized it too because she felt him still and a crackle of energy seemed to hang between them. His thumb coasted over her cheeks once, then twice before he pulled away and she remembered to breathe.
"Let's go," he said hoarsely and she wrapped her hand around his to tug him in the direction of the stairs.
His steps were sure and purposeful, and anyone who didn't know any better would never think he couldn't see. But she recognized his shorter stride and the way he tilted his head to hear better.
Halfway across the cavernous space she only just caught the sparkle of light reflecting off glass and came to an abrupt halt, putting pressure on Oliver's hand to get him to stop as well.
Shards of glass littered the floor in front of them and even in the dim light she could see where it stretched the entire expanse between where they were and the stairs. Looking up she could see the metal frame that used to support a ceiling made of skylights like in a greenhouse. Except the glass was long gone, covering the concrete before them and all she could see was the dark night sky.
Her bare feet were cold and dirty and she could deal with that but there was no way she could walk over that much broken glass.
"Felicity, what's wrong? Do you see something?" his head was swiveling from side to side and he'd taken another step towards her, instinctually using his body to block hers from the unknown threat he hadn't detected.
She patted his forearm once in reassurance and then used him for balance as she lifted one foot and brought their joined hands down. Her heart beat double time when his strong fingers wrapped around her arch, feeling up and down as he figured out what he was holding.
"Your foot? Are you hurt?"
Two squeezes to his hand as she lowered her foot and then crouched down carefully to pick up a small shard of glass. She opened his palm and placed it inside before she let go of his other hand and let him feel what she'd just given him.
"Glass. On the floor." he dropped the piece and she reached for him to grip once.
"Is there a way around it?"
Two more squeezes and he sighed heavily.
She bit her lip in worry and then realized what they'd have to do. With effort she released his hand and placed both her palms on his back so she could shove him forward. All she managed to do was make him rock a couple inches so she tried again, not knowing how else to convey that he would need to leave her there.
"What are you doing?" he asked, turning so he faced her and she planted her hands on his chest this time and shoved as hard as she could.
"Felicity, no. I'm not leaving you behind." he stated, more exasperated than affronted.
He paused and then moved so his back was to her and dropped to one knee, "Climb on,"
She stared at him in shock, not knowing what to do and wondering if he'd hit his head harder than she thought because Oliver Queen could not possibly be suggesting she ride piggyback.
"Climb on," he repeated, this time through slightly gritted teeth and she moved a step forward before she realized what she had done.
"I'm not leaving you behind and this is the only way to get you out of here." there was an edge to his tone that let her know he wasn't going to back down and with a flush creeping up his cheeks she was grateful he couldn't see she laid her hands lightly on his back and felt her shoulders drop in resignation.
She moved slowly, stiffly, because this would mean being pressed against him, no space, no distance and if her pulse was already thrumming because of the way the muscles in his back were shifting beneath her fingers she didn't know what was going to happen when she had her legs wrapped around him.
Her hands slid up to his shoulders and she saw his fist clench when her knees bumped into his lower back. He straightened unexpectedly causing her entire front to make contact with him and then before she knew what was happening he'd trapped both her wrists with one hand making her pitch forward, arms looped in front of his neck as he stood.
If she'd had a voice a startled yelp would have escaped her lips, instead she closed her eyes tight against the pain and clung to him, her legs coming up automatically to band about his waist, skirt hitching so high she had to actively force herself not to think about how little actually separated them now.
He stood stock still and she could feel his heart thundering under her hands where he still held them clasped to his chest. A long minute passed until his free hand came up to lock behind her left knee, the skin he grasped feeling like it was being branded.
"You alright?" he asked throatily and it took everything within her not to drop her face to his neck as a bolt of desire shot directly through her.
She wiggled her hand in his until he loosened his grip and squeezed once. With that he let go and took hold of her right leg and this time she let her head bow, forehead brushing along his ear as she tried to regain her equilibrium.
He didn't say anything else, just began a steady step across the floor, the sound of glass crunching beneath his boots, the powerful muscles under her shifting and adjusting constantly as he kept his balance with her added weight.
She guided him with soft touches to his shoulders, correcting his course to guide him straight for the stairs. It grew darker as they approached and except for one flickering bulb at the top, the area they were now in was almost completely dark.
When they were almost to the bottom she squeezed the hard ridge that ran from his neck outwards, fingers slipping beneath the fabric of the t-shirt he wore causing his hands to grasp her thighs just a little bit tighter.
"We there?"
She gripped his left shoulder once and he let go with one hand to reach forward, hand moving slowly in empty space until he made contact with the railing.
When he began to climb the stairs she pressed herself even closer, arms wrapping all the way around his neck as she tried not look down or think about what it would mean if he lost his balance. Not that she thought he ever would, but there was nothing but empty space beside her and a long fall into darkness.
"I'm not going to drop you, just hold on tight," and she heard the small smile in his voice, but it was short lived when the metal door at the top banged open loudly and the shadow of their captor appeared on the landing.
Everything was a blur after that. She remembered Oliver crouching down and swinging her off his back to shove her behind him, low and against the wall. She remembered the mocking voice of the man they'd been tracking as he laughed about being the one to unmask the Arrow. She remembered Oliver's roar as he ordered her to stay back just before he leapt up the remaining steps to launch himself at the man who'd captured them.
There was a crash and a tangle of limbs before they disappeared into the room and she scrambled up after them, shins banging on risers as her hands grasped desperately for the stairs.
More crashes and grunts of pain could be heard as she flattened herself against the wall next to the doorway and took the deepest breath she could, trying to calm her racing heart before she peeked around the frame.
Immediately she wanted to cry out, to move, to do something to help Oliver. He was holding his own, fighting well like he said he could, but his opponent knew the space and he used that to his advantage.
Felicity winced when she saw Oliver run into a low concrete wall, the other man laughing as he tumbled over and sprang to a crouch, hands in a defensive position in front of him.
"You look more like a drunken trust fund kid than Starling's hero, Mr. Queen. Won't the people be surprised when they find out the truth."
She froze in shock until the glow from a computer screen caught her attention and she looked to her right to see a shaky hand held video of Oliver being unmasked looping on repeat on the screen.
An icy pit grew in her stomach and she knew that no matter what she had to destroy those files and make sure they hadn't been transmitted anywhere else.
Waiting until Oliver made his next move she hoped that the man wouldn't even notice her as she rushed into the room and headed straight for the table that held the laptop.
But luck wasn't on either of their sides. She had just reached the computer and had begun to type when she glanced up in time to see Oliver being struck hard with a metal pipe. He'd obviously heard it coming and ducked, but not quick enough. The scream of protest was ripped from her chest but only emerged a pained rasp of a whisper that left her gripping her throat in agony as she watched Oliver crumple to the floor.
Then her panic only increased when the man set his sights on her and grinned. "Guess its time I finished what I started."
With shaking hands that refused to work she manically tried to finish deleting the files but there was no time. Instead she settled on ripping the cables from the laptop and shoving it as hard as she could off the table just as harsh fingers clamped around her upper arm and jerked her away.
The satisfying sound of the screen shattering and plastic cracking didn't last long as once again she found herself with two hands wrapped around her neck.
"I'm going to keep doing this. Now that the world will know who he is do you really think anyone can stop me? No one can stop me." he hissed madly and she twisted and squirmed in his grip trying to free herself.
Everything was going dark again, and although she felt a small moment of triumph when her nails raked down the side of his face it was over all too soon as his grip just grew tighter, causing her vision to blank.
"Let her go!" Oliver's voice came from the darkness and hope surged within her before they were knocked to the ground.
The hands around her throat loosened allowing her to take in much needed air and then he was being torn off of her as Oliver wrenched him to his feet. However, just as she raised herself to one elbow he lashed out one last time, the sole of his heavy boot finding her abdomen with a vicious kick that expelled all the air from her lungs and left her diaphragm stunned.
Through glazed eyes she watched as he and Oliver struggled, moving back towards the door to the stairs, but she couldn't breathe, couldn't get her lungs to work and as she collapsed onto her back the last thing she saw was them tumbling through the doorway.
Panic washed over her leaving her shaking and weak, logically she knew it was only temporary but as her vision grew darker and darker she felt more out of control with fear. Her throat convulsed, her hands ineffectually grasping at the top of her dress as she willed her body to breathe again. But it wasn't happening and the helplessness she felt spiralled as she tried desperately to take the breath she needed.
"Felicity! Felicity breathe, dammit!"
Oliver was a hazy blur above her, and she felt herself being raised but couldn't feel his hands on her. When her head was tilted back she saw stark fear splashed across his face, his unseeing eyes more scared than she'd ever seen them just before he grasped her flailing hand in his and lowered his mouth to hers.
Her lungs expanded in a rush as they took in much needed oxygen and then she was coughing and sputtering in agony as each inhale and exhale of her now working respiratory system felt like she was swallowing barbed wire. But she was breathing and that was more important than anything.
"That's it, keep breathing," he gasped out, slumping to the floor next to her as he gathered her in his arms. She leaned heavily into his chest and concentrated on taking one breath after another as his hands roamed from her damaged neck to her hair to finally rest against her middle, right over the spot where she'd been kicked. "Keep breathing, Felicity. Don't stop."
She wrapped her fingers loosely around one of his wrists and for a few minutes all that could be heard was their ragged breaths.
When she felt his lips brush her temple she turned into him, bringing her legs up to fall over his where they lay outstretched. She didn't know what happened to their attacker, and right then she didn't want to know. Oliver was alive, she was alive.
"I'm sorry," he whispered into her hair and she knew how rocked he'd been by this. Not only did his worst fear of her getting hurt because of him being the Arrow happen, he'd also been debilitated in his attempt to keep her safe.
Without her voice and without even the ability to try and plead with her eyes she grabbed his hand and brought it up to lay over her heart, pressing as hard as she could before she raised it and kissed the palm.
"You got hurt because of me,"
Her head shook wildly back and forth as she grabbed his hand and held it between both of hers. Two squeezes, over and over and over again. She didn't stop because somehow she knew this was more important than that moment in the hallway, this was the moment in time that was going to decide their future. So she kept squeezing, doing the only thing she could do just then to tell him how wrong he was.
He let out a shuddering exhale and gathered her closer, both arms banding around her, fingers slipping through her hair to stroke through the tangled strands. When he finally said 'okay' it was so quiet she thought she'd heard wrong, until he said it again and her shoulders shook with quiet sobs.
That's how Digg and Roy found them several minutes later. That's also when she found out their target had fallen over the railing of the staircase and broken his neck when he'd landed. She'd buried her face in Oliver's neck when she heard in case the others could see her relief. After she destroyed the files on the computer there would be no risk of Oliver's secret getting out, but she was grateful it had been an accident, she knew what his vow not to kill meant to him.
She and Oliver supported each other as Roy led the way out of the building. When they paused outside Oliver blinked rapidly and tilted his head towards a streetlight they were standing under.
"There's a light there," he commented and she squeezed once, smile cracking her face for the first time that night because it meant the agent sprayed into his eyes was finally beginning to wear off.
When they returned to the lair he insisted Digg tend to her first and she could do nothing but bob her mouth in silent protest as she was led to the med table. Roy found her temporary silence amusing until she lifted one eyebrow and leveled him with a look that reminded him she could still effectively communicate without words.
Digg gave her an injection of pain killers since she couldn't swallow and applied a salve for the bruising.
"She hit her head too," Oliver piped up from where he sat in her chair and she just glared at him before motioning to the obvious head wound he had and the blood that had dried along the side of his face.
Digg gave her a private smirk and a look of his own before she showed him where the bump on her head was. He looked in her eyes and deemed her only mildly concussed before telling her she was done.
When she emerged from the bathroom in a pair of yoga pants and an old hoodie of Oliver's that had been hanging on a hook she saw him laying obediently on the table as Digg finished stitching the wound on his scalp.
But when he placed a towel under Oliver's head and grabbed a bottle of saline solution to rinse his eyes she moved forward and took them from him. He just shook his head silently and motioned to Roy to follow him out.
For a long moment she just stared down at him as thoughts flew through her mind of just how badly everything could have gone wrong that night. She still wasn't sure how they'd made it out alive, but more than ever it just cemented her belief that they should be living now instead of fearing what could happen.
"Feeling better?" he asked suddenly and she jumped, almost losing her grip on the bottle as she looked down in shock wondering how he knew she was there.
The corners of his mouth lifted at her unspoken question, "You smell better than Digg," he said by way of explanation and her cheeks flushed red. "And I can see shapes now."
She'd meant to just touch his eyelid, to lift it up so she could begin to rinse but instead her tratious hand softly cupped his jaw and trailed upwards to brush along his temple.
The hand closest to her came up to grasp the bottom of the hoodie she wore and tugged once, "I'm fine,"
She shook her head in exasperation at that and took a firmer grip on the bottle, before gently holding open his right eye to see that familiar blue surrounded by angry red. He didn't flinch when the first drops fell.
The first few minutes she worked in silence just hoping that he'd soon be telling her that it was working. But when he spoke thats not what he said at all.
"When I told you I couldn't be Oliver Queen and the Arrow...I don't think I realized what I was giving up. I told you that you were the first person who made me forget the part of me that was a killer. You didn't know me from before so all you knew was who I showed you and you made me want to show you a better person, a better version of me."
Felicity froze, the bottle still dripping saline onto the towel until he reached up and took it from her sitting up slowly as she moved back to allow him to swing his legs over the side. He clenched his eyes shut hard and then blinked rapidly until she wiped the corners with her thumbs and then caught herself with a gasp. When he looked at her again their eyes locked and she knew his vision was back.
"I don't think I'm entirely sure of who this new me is...but I know the only reason I am not a killer hiding under a hood right now is because of you. You've always seen something else and it took me looking through your eyes to understand what that meant."
She was stunned and hopeful and almost reluctant to truly believe what he was saying. There was so much she wanted to say herself, her mouth opening only to be reminded that she couldn't. Shaking her head in frustration she tried to show him with a look alone that she'd always seen the man inside him, she'd always seen the good.
"I'm sorry I hurt you. I'm sorry I pushed you away. I thought it was the only way but...you showed me another, like you always do."
His touch was like a lightning bolt as his thumb carefully wiped away tears she didn't know had fallen. "I know you're usually the one talking and it's probably killing you to not be able to say anything-"
She covered the hand on her cheek and squeezed once, emphatically, causing him to laugh. "I thought so."
"I need you in my life. And my life is both Oliver Queen and the Arrow, they're both me, I can't separate them."
At this she nodded because it's what she'd known all along, but he had to be able to see that for himself. It's why she'd had to do what she did after Sara's death. It was too difficult for her to watch him deny himself half his soul even if everything in her demanded she stay at his side.
He tugged her closer, almost hesitantly as if he didn't know how she'd react but she came with no reluctance, smoothly stepping into the space between his thighs. One hand landed low on her hip making a flash of desire roll through her as the other tenderly cupped her face.
"You're beautiful. I was worried I'd never get to see you again and-" he bowed his head as his words grew thick and she quickly reached out to lift his chin, letting her thumb rub slowly across his full lower lip.
A spark of want crossed his eyes and she moved in even closer telling him as best she could that she was there and she was fine and they'd be able to move forward from this together.
"I look at John...with Lyla and baby Sara and they both somehow make it work. They both have dangerous jobs and they still focus on what matters most to them. You matter most to me." the intensity with which he spoke stole her breath and she leaned into his touch, blinking back tears of happiness as she pressed a kiss into his palm. "And keeping you away didn't change how I feel about you, it didn't change how I felt when you were in danger. I never stopped loving you,"
And before he could utter another word she pushed up on her toes and covered his mouth with hers.
A hand slid across her jaw to the nape of her neck, as the other came up between her shoulder blades and pulled her impossibly close.
Quickly he took over, tongue seeking entrance which she gave immediately, a soft whimper low in her throat the first real sound she'd made without pain in hours, and when he curled his tongue around hers she made it again.
When they finally parted they lingered, lips still brushing each other as they breathed the other in and she smiled against his mouth before pulling back enough to meet his eyes.
He went to speak again and she flashed a hand up to lay against his lips, "You talk a lot," she managed to rasp out in a slow, slightly painful whisper, watching delighted as his eyes widened in surprise.
Then it was his turn to shock her as he grasped her hand tight and squeezed once, "Only with you."
The shorthand of one for yes, two for no didn't end, even after his eyesight was fully back and her voice had returned. They found themselves using it in various situations, everything from missions to boardroom meetings once he regained control of Queen Consolidated.
She'd tap a pen on the table when trapped listening to potential investors and he needed to know how she really felt about them. In the field it had come in handy more than once when there was a need for silence.
There was even once where she'd had to use it over the comms, surreptitiously clicking them off and on when the lair had been compromised and she'd hidden in a dark corner of the foundry until the boys had come racing back.
But the time that had surprised her the most was when they stood in the garden of the Queen mansion three years later, with little Sara as their flower girl and Digg officiating.
Before he even got to the 'I do's' Oliver's hand had squeezed hers once and she'd returned it, smile so wide her cheeks hurt, and neither of them let go for hours.
