It was nearly 3 o'clock in the morning by the time Felicity made it back to the mansion. Almost nine hours since they'd realized Leena was after Felicity and Oliver had taken off. Felicity hadn't gone nine hours without talking to Oliver in years. She couldn't even pinpoint the last time that happened except to say it was before he'd turned up shot and bleeding-out in the backseat of her car. Because unless they were sleeping, there was a near constant open line of communication between them. It could be as serious as coordinating a mission or as innocuous as a random text message about the fact that she required coffee. There was always something.
Not now. Right now there was nothing but dead silence.
She knew better than to take it personally. Well, her brain knew better. Her brain knew that Oliver just needed time and space to get a grip on himself. Her brain knew that he would let his guilt swallow him up for a little while and then he'd pull himself together and come home. Her heart, on the other hand, was a sadistic little shit that kept telling her brain it was an idiot. It made a point to remind her that this was the very reason it had taken them so long to get together in the first place. Felicity being a target for Oliver's enemies was the absolute biggest reason that they'd fought their feelings for so long. Felicity being the target of Leena's ire was Oliver's very real fear coming to fruition and biting him in the ass.
Felicity's heart was currently her least favorite of all her organs. Even her appendix ranked higher and she didn't even have it anymore.
Resigned to waiting Oliver out, Felicity stripped out of her skirt and blouse quickly. She donned one of Oliver's t-shirts and climbed into the center of the massive bed, her tablet in her lap. She was scanning through the security feed at QC, her eyes peeled for any sign of Leena, when her phone buzzed on the bedside table. She dove for it, face falling only a fraction when she saw Digg's face scowling playfully up at her.
"Hey." she greeted, pressing the phone to her ear. "Did you find anything?"
"Nothing." Digg reported. "The address is legit but the place is empty. I don't think anyone's lived here in months."
Felicity nearly growled in frustration. "Of course she gave a false address. It's never that easy."
"We'll find her, Felicity." John assured her. "If we're lucky she doesn't know we're onto her yet and she'll show up for work in the morning."
"Digg." Felicity sighed. "When are we ever that lucky?"
"It could happen." he argued mildly. "The laws of inevitability say that it has to happen eventually."
Felicity huffed a laugh, very much appreciating his attempt to make her smile.
"Has he called?" Digg asked when she didn't say anything more.
"No." She wasn't pouting, damn it. No one could prove it. "I tried calling but he sent me to voicemail."
"You need anything? I can come keep you company if you want." Digg offered.
He knew Felicity was alone. With Oliver MIA, Roy and Thea in Gotham, and Moira in Central City on a business trip the Queen mansion was noticeably quiet. The security team was still on high alert and guards were just about everywhere but the house itself was empty.
"I appreciate it but I'm okay." Felicity smiled warmly even though John couldn't see her. "I'm just going to get some work done and hopefully get some sleep. I'll call you in the morning."
"Don't worry, Felicity. Everything will work out." Digg said, his tone full of conviction.
"Sure." Felicity pacified. "Goodnight, John."
After disconnecting Felicity settled back against the pillows and returned to her quest. She tried to trace Leena's cellphone but nothing pinged back. Felicity figured she must be using a burner cell. It felt like no matter what Felicity tried as a means of finding her, Leena was always a step ahead. She was somehow always just out of reach.
At some point during her search Felicity must have fallen asleep. She was curled around one of Oliver's pillows, her glasses askew and half hanging off of her face, when she was startled awake. She bolted upright, fixing her glasses as she tried to orient herself. The lamp on her nightstand was still on, thankfully, so she let her eyes sweep the room, searching for what tore her from sleep. Her ears perked up when they caught what sounded like the rattle of a doorknob. Felicity strained her ears, listening intently while trying to drown out the sound of her erratic heartbeat.
The knob rattled again.
Gulping audibly, Felicity slipped out of bed, setting her tablet down on the nightstand before sliding open the drawer and digging through its contents. She quickly located the taser gun Oliver stashed there. Gripping the gun steadily she padded her way across the room, careful to let the carpet muffle each step. The knob shook a little more violently as she approached. She stilled for a beat before forcing herself to keep moving. She reached out with her free hand, her fingers wrapping tightly around the knob. She inhaled deeply, aimed her taser, and jerked sharply on the handle of the door.
The door swung open and Oliver toppled into the room. Felicity gasped, her hand flying to her mouth in an effort to stifle the sound.
"Ow." Oliver groaned from the floor, trying and failing to push himself up on his elbows.
Felicity watched him struggle for a second in paralyzed bewilderment until one of Oliver's arms slipped out from beneath him and he collapsed to the carpet, chuckling. "Oh my God, Oliver! Are you drunk?" Felicity demanded.
"Abs'lutely not." Oliver slurred up at her while simultaneously attempting to school his features into a mask of seriousness.
Felicity rolled her eyes and set the unfired taser on top of her dresser. Returning her focus to the intoxicated superhero sprawled out on the floor of her bedroom, she crossed her arms under her breasts and quirked an amused brow. "Want to try that again?"
"Not particlur- particlurl-" Oliver struggled. "Nope." he finally decided.
Felicity squatted down beside him and brushed her hand over his disheveled hair. Oliver turned wide eyes up to her face, his gaze unsteady and vulnerable. "Hit the bottle pretty hard, huh?" She smiled softly.
Oliver nodded clumsily. "It hit back."
"I can see that. Come on." She grasped his hand and tugged. "Let's get you ready for bed."
Oliver let her pull him into a sitting position and then fought with his limbs to push himself to his feet. He swayed unsteadily for a second but Felicity wrapped an arm around his waist, slung his arm over her shoulder, and then pulled him towards the bed. She settled him on the edge then crouched down to remove his shoes and socks. Oliver blearily tracked her movements, his eyes skipping and sliding out of focus.
"Alright, lay back." Felicity ordered gently when she finished her task, pressing one hand to his shoulder and applying pressure.
Oliver obeyed immediately. He fell heavily back onto the bedspread, arms spread wide. Felicity left him there to fetch a few aspirin from the medicine cabinet. Upon her return she set the pills on the nightstand beside her mostly full water bottle. She scanned her eyes over the length of his body, checking for any outward signs of damage. Other than the wrinkles in his his gray button-up and the fact that one half of it hung limply over the waist of his slacks, he looked much the same as he had when she'd seen him last. Granted a few of his buttons were popped and his jeans were rocking a decent amount of dust, but beyond that he was the same Oliver who had left the Foundry hours before.
Then there was the fact that he was apparently three sheets to the wind. Oliver enjoyed a few drinks every now and again but Felicity had very rarely seen him truly drunk. There were a few times back when Tommy was alive, and a handful of other occasions when Oliver just needed a break.
Though, there had been the night of Digg and Lyla's wedding. Oliver had been the best man and Felicity a bridesmaid. While Felicity had been wholly accepting of the fact that Oliver had to escort Lyla's sister, Genni. down the isle and then share a dance with her, Oliver had been nowhere near as accommodating. He had scowled at, and silently cursed, the guy who Felicity ended up paired with. Out of respect for Diggle, Oliver had been perfectly pleasant to Will, who had been a friend of Digg's since high school. Oliver maintained a friendly, albeit slightly forced, smile any time he had to interact with Will. Felicity suspected he only managed it because he imbibed more tequila than a Spanish barfly could safely ingest. By the end of the night Oliver had been stumbling over his own feet and murmuring in Felicity's ear on the car ride home.
So, Felicity wasn't exactly a stranger to drunk-Oliver. She had more experience taking care of him than probably anyone except Tommy. It had just been a while since Oliver felt the need to drink himself into oblivion.
"Hey." Felicity climbed onto the bed beside a starfishing Oliver and patted his chest gently until his eyes blinked open. "You have to take some aspirin before you can sleep."
"Alr'dy 'sleep." Oliver grumbled under his breath.
Felicity huffed a laugh. "Come on, Oliver. Take the aspirin, drink some water, and I'll let you keep your pants."
Oliver had a weird thing with Felicity undressing him while he was unconscious or inebriated. She thought it made him feel powerless somehow, reminding him that he hadn't been in control of himself. Self-containment was something Oliver prided himself on.
Regardless, the promise seemed to do the trick. Oliver let her pull him into a somewhat sitting position. She handed him the pills and uncapped the water. He drank the rest of the bottle in two gulps before handing it back to her and flopping back onto the bed. Felicity tossed the empty bottle onto his nightstand and climbed around Oliver to her side of the bed.
"I'm gonna need you to reposition there, big guy." She ran a hand up and down his arm. "At least get your head on the pillows."
It took him nearly a minute but Oliver eventually managed to rearrange himself on his side so that his head was resting on his pillows. Felicity waited in the silence of the room, listening to the breaths he took. When she was satisfied he was settled, she set her glasses on the nightstand, clicked off the lamp, tugged the blanket over both of them and stretched out on her back beside him. No sooner did her head hit the pillow before Oliver was reaching for her. He ensnared her waist and tugged her body into his. He lifted his head enough to snuggle into her chest while managing to throw one heavy leg over both of hers. Oliver sighed contentedly, already more than half asleep. Felicity smiled tenderly down at him as she carded her fingers through his hair.
She was nearly asleep when Oliver spoke again. "'M sorry. Don' hate me, F'licty." he mumbled, his words slurred and muffled against her chest.
"I could never hate you, Oliver. Why would you even think that?" Felicity whispered back, her fingertips scraping lightly over his scalp.
"B'cause I fell 'n love with you." Oliver tried to explain.
It made all the sense in the world to Felicity. Oliver was blaming himself for her being in danger, like she knew he would. He was angry with himself for falling in love with her, for putting her in harms way. He thought he was being selfish, keeping her close.
Felicity felt tears well up in her eyes as she blinked up into the darkness of the ceiling. It always hurt her when Oliver felt shame and regret in regards to their relationship. She didn't want him to regret something that made her feel nothing but elation and contentment even when things got tough.
"Go to sleep, Oliver." Felicity sniffled, a silent tear tracking down her cheek when he pulled her closer and snuffled into the curve of her neck. "We can talk about it in the morning."
She burrowed her nose into his hair, letting herself inhale breaths laced with his scent, drawing comfort from the heavy feel of him wrapped around her. Her last thought before she slipped into sleep herself was that his hair smelled like dust bunnies.
The bright sunlight streaming in through the wide open curtains made Oliver's head throb painfully. His brain felt like it was too big to be safely contained within his skull and he briefly considered crawling out of bed in search of a drill to ease some of the pressure between his ears. He dismissed the idea when his stomach roiled dangerously with the mere lifting of a hand. His eyes refused to open, the grit and shards of glass beneath his lids making them scrape his eyeballs raw anytime he tried.
Oliver groaned pathetically, somehow managing to drag a pillow over his face to block out some of the offending light. His mouth tasted like dirty sea water, salty and stagnant, which only served to make his stomach threaten to eject its meager contents.
"Welcome back to the land of the sober." Felicity's voice floated in through the cotton, figurative and literal, muffling his hearing.
Oliver managed to grunt an acknowledgment.
Felicity looked over at him, limbs scattered haphazardly, sheet thoroughly tangled around them. She stood from his desk, making her way toward the bedroom door. "I'm willing to bet you're feeling like you lost a fight with an army tank right about now. So, in consideration of your self-inflicted misery, I'm going to let you shower and have some coffee before I even ask. I'll be around when you decide you can peel yourself out of bed."
Oliver heard the door click shut a few seconds later. He forced himself to push the pillow off his face and allow the sunlight to claw at his eyes. He deserved whatever punishment today had to offer and he knew it. Whether it be assault by celestial ball of gas or an all out verbal lashing by his probably very pissed off girlfriend, Oliver earned every second of it.
He gingerly pushed himself up and to the edge of the bed, ignoring the way his stomach violently protested the movement. His head was screaming at him to lay back down but Oliver simply let it hang above his parted legs, his feet solid grounding points against the plush carpet.
Getting shit-faced drunk and crawling home to Felicity was a dick move. He was well aware of that. It wasn't mature and it sure as hell wasn't healthy, but he'd already done the damage. Felicity hadn't used her loud voice on him, for which he was grateful, but that almost made it worse. If she was beyond her loud voice, that meant she'd circled back to eerily calm and that was always the hardest to face. It meant that Oliver had royally fucked up.
Resigned to the inevitable and groaning with the effort, Oliver shoved himself to his feet and stumbled toward the bathroom.
Twenty minutes and one intimate encounter with the toilet later, Oliver shuffled into the kitchen in search of coffee. Felicity had left his travel mug on the counter, its contents made specifically to his liking. He sipped the brew carefully, bracing himself in case his stomach decided it wasn't finished revolting. The coffee stayed down, much to his amazement. Oliver rooted through the cabinet near the refrigerator in search of the aspirin he knew Raisa always kept there. He popped a few of the pills into his mouth and washed them down with another, larger sip of his caffeinated elixir of the gods.
He dawdled around in the kitchen for as long as he could realistically justify before he finally relented and went in search of Felicity. It was warm and sunny so he decided to try the garden first. After donning his sunglasses, he made his way across the veranda silently, half hoping to find the garden empty just so he could buy himself a few more minutes to prepare for his inevitable reaming. He wandered among the fresh blossoms and thick greenery for several minutes before he found her.
Felicity was stretched out on one of the bench swings situated around the stone fireplace Thea had insisted they needed. Her long legs were propping up the thick book laying open on her thighs, the sun caressing the naked skin of her bare shoulders. Her hair was pulled high in a messy bun at the crown of her head, her glasses clinging precariously to the very tip of her nose as she flipped the pages. He made no attempt at stealth so he knew that her refusal to acknowledged his presence was her way of taking control of the situation. Oliver was more than willing to accept that, so he sat on the grass in front of the swing and let the wooden support beam hold him up. He lifted one knee, letting his arm drape over it while he waited.
Felicity finished two chapters before she closed the book and slipped it under the triangle of her legs. "Where did you go?" she asked without preamble.
"The apartment." Oliver answered immediately.
It wasn't the answer she had expected. He could tell by the sharp intake of breath beside him. He kept his eyes fixed forward and busied his fingers ripping out a few blades of grass.
"From your completely dignified entrance this morning, I'm assuming that my liquor cabinet didn't survive the encounter." Felicity rubbed at the bridge of her nose, dropping her glasses into her lap to facilitate the gesture.
"It's definitely seen better days." Oliver admitted, ignoring the twinge of shame he felt at her having seen him in such a state.
"Did it make you feel better?" Felicity questioned.
Oliver thought her tone was lacking the judgment he deserved. "For a little while, yeah."
"And now?"
"Your tank analogy seems about right." Oliver told her, letting his head fall back against the beam behind him.
They fell into an uneasy silence. The air was thick with expectation, Oliver waiting for her to explode and Felicity waiting for him to let her back in.
"Look, Felicity." Oliver started, keeping his eyes averted. It was just easier when he didn't have to see the disappointment on her face. "I'm sorry. Taking off like that, not letting you know that I was alright... That was a shitty thing to do. I should have called, or at least texted. And, I'm sorry that when I did finally come home it was completely trashed. There's no excuse for behaving like an angsty teenager. I know you were worried and I'm sorry that I'm the reason for that."
Felicity laughed humorlessly. "You honestly think that that's why I'm upset?"
"Isn't it?" Oliver queried, more than slightly confused. "I bailed on you, Felicity. I ran away less than twelve hours after I promised you that I wouldn't, for Christ's sake! We just figured out that the TA that I hired is trying to kill you because she knows it's the worst thing she could possibly do to me, and I bailed. I left you alone to deal with the fallout of another one of my mistakes and found my way to the bottom of more than a few bottles. If that isn't why you're angry than I am beyond lost right now."
"I understand why you needed to be alone, Oliver. Really, I'm surprised you weren't gone longer." Felicity shifted on the swing, settling her feet on a patch of grass beside Oliver's hip. "I know that huge emotional blows have a way of making you seek solitude. Hell, when Tommy died, you spent five months in the place you hate most in the world because it literally put an ocean of distance between you and everyone else. I know you, Oliver. You needing to be by yourself, needing space to work through the things I know you wish you could avoid... It doesn't surprise me."
Oliver turned his body toward her, letting his knee brush against her ankle as he glanced up at her. Even behind the dark lenses of his sunglasses Felicity could see the guilt still burning, front and center, in his eyes.
"And, I'm not angry." Felicity picked at the bright purple polish on her thumb nail.
"You should be." Oliver looked down at his lap, once more avoiding her eye.
"Well, I'm not." She sighed. She wondered if she should even bring it up, if it was worth it in the end. Ultimately, she knew that it would bother her, fester beneath the surface and drive her crazy, until they addressed it. "This morning, when you got home, you said something."
Oliver's head snapped up. There were a few blank spots in his memories of the night before, a few places where things got hazy and he couldn't recall how he'd gotten from one point to another. The entire cab ride back to the mansion was a blur. Dread pooled in his gut when he imagined the myriad of things he might have uttered in his drunken state.
"You asked me not to hate you for loving me." Felicity whispered. "I'm 99% sure you actually apologized for falling in love with me at all."
"Felicity." Oliver could hear the tears in her voice. He wanted to say something, anything, to make them go away, to make her feel better. But, he couldn't. He didn't remember saying the words to her but he definitely remembered thinking them more than once while he was drowning himself in the contents of her liquor supply.
"Do you regret falling in love with me, Oliver?" Felicity asked, her voice laced with pain and a fear so tangible he could almost taste it.
"Any honest answer I can give you will only make this worse." Oliver confessed, his voice breaking under the strain of his own tears. Shame, guilt, and self-loathing bubbled just beneath his skin.
A stuttered sob tore from Felicity's throat before she could stop it. Her hand flew to her mouth in an attempt to catch the sound but it was no use. Her blue eyes were wide with shock, tears pooling in them, though she refused to let them fall. "You-" She choked on the words, her hands fluttering uselessly as they fell back into her lap. "You regret this? Regret us?"
He couldn't mean it that way, couldn't mean it the way it sounded. Oliver would never hurt her that way. She struggled not to take his words to heart, knowing that it was his defense mechanism, pushing her away like that.
Oliver made himself look her in the eye, forced himself to see the pain he was causing her. "How can I not when this is where it's gotten us? It's because I fell in love with you that someone is trying to kill you, Felicity! It's not even the first time! Letting you into this world was the worst thing I ever could have done to you."
Anger flared, white hot and boiling in her belly, giving her something to grasp onto other than the ripping sensation in her chest.
"Let me?" she snapped. "You let me into this world? God damn it, Oliver!" Felicity thrust herself up from the swing, stalking away from him. "How many times do we have to have this same conversation?" She was shouting, she knew, but she didn't care. "I chose this! I chose to be a part of this world, to be a part of your world. I knew damn well what I was getting into when I agreed to stay on after we rescued Walter. I was supremely well informed when I told you that I would wait, as long as it took, for you to get your shit together and realize what was right in front of you! I had the entire Library of Congress' worth of knowledge about what I was doing when you kissed me in the hospital, and when we made love for the first time, and when you told me you wanted me to be your wife someday. I chose to stand beside you, and if given the choice a thousand times over, I'd always choose you, Oliver. Always."
"It's my fault that Leena is after you." Oliver repeated, climbing to his feet. "I am the reason your life is in danger, Felicity. How can you stand there and pretend that I'm not?"
"I'm not pretending any such thing, Oliver." Felicity fisted her hands at her sides, her knuckles turning white from the pressure. He was trying to push her away, to make her angry enough or to hurt her enough that she would give up on him and she knew that. She wasn't about to let him get away with it. "You are not the reason my life is in danger. Leena is the reason, whoever hired her is the reason, my choices are the reason that I'm in the situation I'm in. Out of everyone who is responsible for my current situation, you are the least to blame. Don't do this to yourself, Oliver. Don't do this to us." She took a few steps closer, some of the rage seeping out of her. "Look me in the eye and tell me that you regret falling in love with me. Look me in my eyes and tell me that you can stand the thought of walking away, of watching me walk away. Tell me that it's over, that we're over, and I'll leave right now."
"Felicity." Oliver begged. The picture she painted in his mind made his chest tighten uncomfortably, his stomach twisting up in knots.
"I'll go back to my apartment right this second if you can do that. I'll let you ruin the best thing that's ever happened to either one of us, and all you have to do is say it." She was toe to toe with him by then, her head tilted back so she could meet his eye defiantly.
Oliver stared into her eyes, reading the determination in their depths. He should have known she'd call his bluff. He was pretty sure that he had and was praying the whole time that she'd prove him right. Losing Felicity, in any way, was something he was ill equipped to deal with and he knew it.
"Don't go." he finally managed to croak. "That's not what I want."
Relief washed over her face like a wave, her features shifting as a few tears managed to escape. Oliver was surprised when she balled her fist and punched him hard in the pec.
"Don't ever do that again!" She scolded angrily. "This is the last time you get to drown in your manpain and my liquor cabinet! You and I are a team, Oliver. Now and always. Understood?"
Instead of answering, Oliver tugged her into his chest, wrapping his arms around her shoulders while hers wound vice tight around his ribs. He buried his nose in the side of her head, inhaling the scent of sunshine and lilac that clung to her golden strands. Felicity clung to him, her face smooshed into the hard wall of his chest, her fingers twisting into the fabric of his black t-shirt as if she were holding on for dear life.
Oliver held her close, savoring the fact that she even let him touch her after what he'd just said to her. He was grateful, not for the first time, that Felicity Smoak wasn't the type of woman who would accept his bullshit without dispute. A swell of gratitude and pure adoration expanded behind his ribs, pushing up into his throat and making it hard for him to swallow.
Oliver wasn't even ashamed to admit his voice cracked when he murmured,"Understood."
