Emma

Chapter 14

Felicity sat on the moist grass next to the potted flowers she'd brought to Moira Queen's grave. She had wanted to bring flowers that would last longer than usual when she left them there. She thought it was fitting to honor the memory of the woman that had loved and treated her like a daughter for many years, even before her own mother had passed away. Unfortunately, the flower shops in town were still closed by the time she was ready to leave. It was a good thing that the Steeles had so kindly offered to show her the year-round blooms in their backyard garden and had coaxed her to pick the one she liked best; they had given it for free when she told them that she planned on passing by the cemetery to visit Moira's grave before driving back to Central City early that morning.

She had spent the night at the Rev. Walter Steele's halfway house. It had been part of her plan when she decided to come and see Emma in Starling Town. If she was going to make peace with her past by finally setting foot in Queens Ranch after seven years, seeing Oliver again, and speaking with her daughter, she might as well visit the people that had shown nothing but kindness to her and her child years ago.

Leaving the ranch after dinner the night before, the Steeles' had been her first stop. Thankfully, a room was available for her to stay in. It wasn't the one she had lived in before for about four months; nevertheless, spending the night two doors down the hall from that very room had still brought back memories of the time she had spent there. It had been her haven, as the reverend and his wife helped her recover from deep emotional, mental, and physical turmoil.

Felicity pushed the potted flowers closer to the gravestone. "Hello, Moira," she said softly, reaching to trace the engraved letters of the woman's first name on the granite slab marking the ground where her remains lay. "It's been a long time."

She fought back the tears by taking a deep breath and blinking them away behind her glasses. "I'm so sorry I wasn't there when you passed. I didn't… I didn't know. And even if I did, I… I wasn't ready to come back. I never thought I'd ever be. But… Emma. Emma found me. So, here I am."

"You never did give up, didn't you? You were too stubborn for your own good. Just like my mom." She sighed at the memories that she and her mother Donna had shared with Moira Queen. "You both never took 'no' for an answer. Like her, you were strong… steadfast… sure of what you wanted and hoped for. And I am so, so grateful… that you became my baby's mother… even just for a short time."

Tears were streaming down her cheeks like a river current, gaining momentum as she spoke. "Thank you. Thank you for making sure that my baby had a home… for raising her as your own… like you did for me when… when Mom died. Thank you for giving her your name… and for keeping mine. Even when I shut you out of my life completely… even when I didn't think I deserved your help… you… you still loved me the best way you could," she uttered in between tender sobs.

Felicity wondered what Moira would be telling her now if her "second mother" were right in front of her. What would Moira say to her? This reminded her of the letters that Rev. Steele had handed to her just before they waved her goodbye at the halfway house a while ago. Felicity reached for her purse, contemplating whether or not she should read them. The desire to carry on a conversation with Moira, albeit figuratively, was able to win over the fear of reliving a painful time in her life. After everything that the woman had done for her all those years ago, the least she could do was to listen to what she had wanted to say to her, even if that was all in the past. She owed Moira that much.

There were three envelopes in her purse with her name on them, signed in Moira Queen's handwriting. The ink had faded somewhat because of the length of time the letters had been stored in the attic of the halfway house. Apparently, the charitable preacher had kept the letters that Moira had left with them each time she had come to see Felicity that summer. Felicity had refused to read them, let alone accept them. Rev. Steele had not only pitied the woman that had introduced herself as her mother; he also had thought wisely that she might regret not reading them ever, so he had kept them just in case she came back someday with a change of heart. That day had come.

Dear Felicity,

I came to see you today, but Rev. Steele courteously told me that you were not accepting any visitors – not even family. So, I scribbled this note in a hurry, quite unprepared and out of my element, not knowing exactly what to say, except that I would really like for you to come home. I don't know what you're going through, and I won't pretend like I do. I know that you must be confused and hurting, and who knows what else. But everything will be fine. You'll see. Just come home, please.

Love,

Moira

Dearest Felicity,

I hope that this letter finds you well. As you can see, I am better prepared this time. I have had some time to ponder these past few weeks since I first came to see you. I thought that I should come ready, just in case you still refuse to see me, so I decided to write down my thoughts to let you know what is in my heart.

The first thing I want to say is that you are sorely missed here at home. Whatever happened the day you came back from Boston and then ran away, I need you to know that you are still very much a part of our family. I miss you, my dear girl, and I will keep trying to convince you to come home. To me, it is not just about honoring your mother's memory. It is not just about fulfilling her dying request that I take good care of you and make sure that you'll grow up a wonderful young lady. It is also because I have come to love you like my own child. I would do anything to help you, protect you, and fight for you. I'll take care of you and the baby. There is no need to worry. But Felicity, I cannot do any of that if you won't let me.

Thea is understandably angry that you just left without saying goodbye under the circumstances. But, because I am her mother, who knows her better than anyone, I know that she misses you just the same underneath the indifferent, apathetic front that she puts up to make her look strong and supportive of her brother. I guess she simply doesn't see your side of the story. None of us do. How can we, if you won't let us in?

Yet, believe me when I say that no one in the household misses you more than Oliver. From what I've learned, he was the one that walked away angry first. I understand how that must have made you feel. I know that it may have been the reason why you left the ranch just as quickly as you arrived, without explaining why. I know my son, Felicity. And deep down inside you, I think you know him well enough, too. You've been the best of friends for as far back as I could remember. Please, give him a chance.

It's been weeks since the unfortunate incident, and if you see him now – how lonely he has been without you, and how miserable he has been, blaming himself for pushing you away because he had been too immature to let you explain before he impulsively judged you and left – you'd know. You'd know that he is sorry for what happened. You'd know that he earnestly wants to listen now, to understand, no matter how difficult. He doesn't know how, but he wants to try. He told me as much. Oliver loves you. And I know you love him, too. I hope that you could find it in your heart to forgive him for failing to be there for you when you needed him most.

The second thing I wanted to you to know is this. Whatever it was that happened to you, whatever it was that you've done, or was done to you, I will always be there for you. I will not judge you. I will be there to help you pick up the pieces and start over. I will be there like your mother had been there for you when your father left without so much as an explanation. I will be there for you like your mother had been there for me when my husband left us for another woman and all throughout the difficult time of the divorce. I will be there for you, now more than ever, as I had been there when your dear mother passed away. And I will be there for your child, Felicity. You don't have to be afraid anymore. You can come home anytime.

I worry about you, you know. I worry that you might not have had any pre-natal care as of yet. You should be eating well and sleeping well, and having some form of exercise to keep yourself and your baby healthy. It's around this time that congenital anomaly screening is done, and oh! By now, a sonogram will be able to tell what your baby's gender is – that is, if you want to know. Whatever you decide, please take good care of yourself and your unborn child. None of this is his or her fault.

John and Raisa miss you as well. They don't say it out loud, but they do. I wish I could tell everybody in the ranch where you are, but that is not my secret to tell, and I respect that.

Felicity, I really hope that when I come to visit you again, you will have changed your mind, and come home with me.

With much love,

Moira

My dear Felicity,

I just had to come see you again today, and I am very sad that you still do not want to come down and see me. I am not as prepared as I was the last time, and I am afraid that as I write hurriedly this time, I may not be able to express my thoughts and feelings as articulately as I usually do. I hope you will understand my utter disappointment, because this is one of those rare occasions when I have gotten my heart broken twice in one morning.

You see, Oliver left the ranch today. He did not even say goodbye. That boy! Sometimes I feel like he is so much like his father. Anyway, as I was saying, I woke up this morning and Oliver was gone. He left a note telling me that he was going to Eastern Africa as a Peace Corps volunteer. Eastern Africa! Of all the places in the world! And he has the nerve to tell me that I shouldn't worry about him! That is precisely what I have been doing since I read that… note. He is so lost, Felicity. He's been wallowing in guilt ever since he lost you. I really don't know what to do anymore but wish him well, and that he will find the peace he's been searching for by giving of himself to the service of others. I do not know when he's coming back.

Now that you have refused to see me for the third time, I feel like I have lost, not just my son, but also my other daughter. I have done everything I could think of, and still my children move away. I grieve my losses deeply. But, I shall respect your wishes, my dear girl. I think it is best for now to leave you be, and simply to hope and pray that one day you will come to your senses and find your way home. I pray the same for my son.

Take good care of yourself, Felicity, and love your child no matter what. He or she has done nothing wrong. When that special day comes, you will discover that there is no greater joy like that of holding your own baby in your arms. I remember so well when Donna told me once that you were the best thing that ever happened to her. Indeed, motherhood is one of the greatest privileges a woman can be blessed with in this life.

All my love,

Moira

By the time Felicity was done reading all three letters, she was crying like a child. Moira's letters were damp with her tears. She cried because she felt Moira's love wash over her with a tenderness and warmth that made her yearn for her own mother. She cried because she missed them both. She cried because it dawned on her that Moira had had an inkling of the tragedy that had befallen her and had wanted to take her back in spite of it. Most of all, she cried because she regretted not reading the letters seven years ago. She wondered in remorse how her decisions – and her life – could have turned out very differently if she had. However, she also cried for good reason. She sensed that she was being given a second chance at that life. A life surrounded by the people she once loved, still loved. A life in which it was her turn to love her own child, just like Donna and Moira had loved theirs. A life with Emma in it.

"Hey," a voice called out softly but distinctly from behind her.

She bit her lip. She'd recognize his voice anytime, despite the time and space that had separated them. She looked up and saw Oliver looking down at her with an expression that she could only associate with both affection and surprise.

"Hey," she called back, as he knelt down beside her on one knee.

He saw her reddened, swollen eyes, and immediately he knew she'd been crying for quite some time. He couldn't blame her, for he always cried every time he came to visit his mother's grave. He said nothing, even if he wanted her to know how much he appreciated her taking the time to visit his mother.

For the first time since they'd seen each other again at STAR Labs a month ago, Oliver reached out to touch the woman he'd loved for most of his life. He placed his hand on her shoulder and pressed lightly. He hoped she still knew what that meant for them. When she did not flinch or move away, he thought that she probably did. That was enough for him. For now.

A/N: How did you find this one? This is longer than usual, but I hope you still liked it.

I really wanted Moira Queen to be different in this story. There's something special about writing her character as deceased. I've wondered if in the show she had really come out of that brief incarceration a changed woman, and if she had, how differently she would have treated Felicity if she hadn't died by Slade's blade. I wonder, would she have fallen in love with Felicity Smoak? Moira had always known there was something between her and her son, just by the way she looked at him, long before those two ever admitted to being in love.

Posting the next chapter is exciting and dreadful in an ironic kind of way for me. Oliver and Felicity have a talk. That's why. ;-)