Written for the Olicity Hiatus Project fic challenge. Prompt: "Maybe home is nothing but two arms holding you tight when you're at your worst." - Yara Bashraheel.
Felicity has never truly felt like she has a home. She's lived in houses, with other people, but the closest she remembers to feeling like home was that last hug her father gave her before walking out the door.
She doesn't hug anyone else for a very long time.
The first time she hugs Oliver, she's just so relieved he's alive, she can't keep the emotion to herself. She needs to share it, needs him to know how glad she is to have him back. Where would she go if he wasn't there? Where would she be if he'd never stepped into her life? She's never felt so anchored to another person, and it scares her, just a little.
The second time he is breaking to pieces in front of her, weighed down by the responsibility of the dead, and of the living who aren't far from joining them. The second time she hugs him is to pull together his fractured soul, to make him whole again so he has a fighting chance. He has been steady for her, for everyone before, when the world has been falling apart, now she will stand strong for him, a firm wall sheltering him from himself.
Afterwards, he doesn't have anywhere to go. He's lost almost everything and is left without a place to call his own. She offers hers. It's never been much of a home and it's the least she can do. She's there by herself, lonely, and spends as much time away as she can. Maybe with him, if he's there… That's the first time he hugs her, and she soaks it in, holding on tight for those few moments before smiling and showing him where the guest room is.
They find out where his sister has gone – the last piece of home he had left. He rages for hours, pummeling any equipment he can get his hands on in the lair, patrolling twice as long and sending three times as many criminals in the precinct's direction. He's so angry, so lost. When the fire finally dies down to embers, she's there, holding him close as he lets himself break just a little bit more, knowing she'll hold on to the pieces.
Her mother dies. It's sudden and leaves her drifting in a world she doesn't recognize. She didn't get along with her mother, never felt welcome, not since she left for college, (and even before if she's being honest). But there was always a chance that things would change… The years of abuse don't mean anything in the face of the shame she feels at her failure to reconcile. It doesn't matter that she'd tried over and over again. She can't remember those times. She can't find her center, but that's when he's there. Every so often, when she feels like she's going under, a pair of strong arms wrap around her and bring her back to herself. Bring her back to a place where she is loved, and cherished, and seen for the guiding light that she is.
And that's when Felicity finally begins to understand.
Maybe home is nothing but two arms holding you tight when you're at your worst.