36. Soot and Ashes
Season 3 spec fic based on the preview trailer that was released tonight.
He didn't think. He just reacted. The moment the bomb went off, the restaurant erupted into chaos. It was close. So close, in fact, he could feel the heat radiating out as it knocked him and Felicity straight to the floor on opposite sides of the table.
There were several moments between then and now, after he'd finally caught his breath, after the sounds of screaming and moaning began to echo through the half destroyed space, where he couldn't figure out what was up and what was down. His mind was still rattling from the sound of the blast.
Then he finally caught his breath only for his heart to stop a second later. Rolling to his side, he spotted Felicity, his Felicity, the woman he cared about, the woman he ached for, the woman he loved, laying on the ground, her head tilted away from him, with the telltale signs of blood trickling from somewhere along her hairline.
She had looked so gorgeous that night, blonde hair down in waves, red dress that stunned him into silence the moment he saw her open the front door to her townhouse, and those pretty chandelier earrings that dangled from her ears glittering like the light in her beautiful blue eyes. She looked so happy, her smile shining so bright that it was infection. He couldn't help smiling along with her.
He rolled over, determined to reach her before anyone else did. What he found waiting for him was far worse than he ever could have imagined. She was covered in soot and ash from the explosion, half her face stained in the same color red as her dress.
There was no time to think at that point. Pain didn't register in any part of his body as he crawled to her side. Brushing back the dirty strands of hair away from her face revealed the true nature of her wounds: several sharp shards of glass had embedded themselves into her skin. But that wasn't what worried him.
As he ran his hand along her cheek and called her name, she didn't stir. She lay there, limp and lifeless on the cold marble floor surrounded by shards of glass and god knew what else. "Felicity?" he roughly whispered again, patting her cheek this time in hopes of rousing her, but she didn't wake.
Instinct kicked in like it had the night Slade carried out his revenge on Starling City. His arms wound their way beneath her neck and her knees, hoisting her up until she was firmly cradled against his chest. Amid the crowd of injured patrons, he stood and carried her out of the restaurant, his mind not questioning where they needed to go.
How he got them to the lair was beyond him. He didn't remember the walk or the drive or whatever else it was that had taken them there. All he knew was that she was still in his arms, her face nestled against his neck as he pushed open the door and flew down the staircase. Every breath that escaped her lungs ghosted across his skin, letting him know that she was still alive, that she wasn't gone.
It took all his strength and resolve to lay her on the medical table instead of keep her in his arms, and when he did, the gasp that escaped his lips couldn't be held back. She looked like hell: fragile, bloody, broken.
Emotions he hadn't felt in a while began to bubble up suddenly as he gazed down at her listless body. Anger, guilt, fear… Dear god, the fear… He was so scared of losing her, so scared that she wouldn't wake up from this. After everything they'd been through in those last two years, he couldn't lose her like this. Yet, there was still a chance, a chance that was currently haunting him as he stared at her.
Tears burned at the back of his eyes, tears he desperately wanted to shed at that moment. Not just for her, but for every other thing that had gone wrong in his life from the moment he boarded that damned boat to now. He knew everything he touched always turned to ash, but for a moment, he'd allowed himself to think that maybe Felicity would be the exception. She was far stronger than anyone else he knew, not physically, but mentally and emotionally. She was the glue that held the team together, held him together.
How could have he been so naive?
The moment he realized this was his fault, it broke him. Tears fell unbidden as sobs escaped his throat. He sank to his knees beside the table, his hands grasping hers in one last, desperate attempt to wake her. But she wasn't waking up. Her eyes remained closed, and he cried for her. He cried for what was. He cried for what could have been.
That's how Diggle found him a few minutes later: Oliver sobbing on his knees as Felicity lay on the table. Like a soldier in the heat of battle, he rushed over to help out however he could. Not a single word passed his lips as he nudged Oliver to the side and began working on Felicity.
Barely a moment later, the door slammed again. This time it was Roy rushing down the stairs carrying an armload of medical supplies. Oliver simply slumped down on the floor, his head hitting cold concrete as his body shut down.
Whatever happened after that point was a mystery to him. When he awoke, he was laying on the cot at the back of the foundry with packs of ice pressed against his neck and right side. Someone hovered above him, blocking out the light. It took a moment for his eyes to focus, but when they did, the face that came into view wasn't the one he expected.
"Hey, stranger," the sultry voice whispered.
"Sara?" he mumbled, confused for a moment and wondering if it was a dream.
"In the flesh," she replied.
His next thought was of the other woman he shared this space with and the horror they'd experienced that night. "Felicity?" he asked, shooting up off the cot only to feel the wind being knocked out of him.
Sara put a hand on his shoulder, forcing him to lay back down on the cot. "Whoa, there, Prince Charming. Sleeping Beauty's fine," she said in a reassuring tone. "She woke up a little while ago before going back to sleep."
"I need to see her," Oliver replied as he sat up again, this time a little more slowly and carefully. Pain radiated out from his side indicating possibly broken ribs. As for his shoulder… He couldn't care less at that moment. His mind was focused solely on the blonde beauty he hadn't been able to keep his eyes off of that night, until all hell broke loose.
Sara looped an arm around his waist and helped him stand. In that moment, he was grateful for her support as the pain in his side worsened tenfold, shooting from his rips all the way down his through his hip and straight into his bad knee. She half carried him over to the medical table where Felicity still lay since he brought her down here, only now there was no longer blood trickling down her face and she was covered in a shock blanket. A large white bandage covered her forehead between her eye and hairline probably hiding whatever stitches Diggle had used to sew up her wounds.
She looked so peaceful, lying there as if nothing had happened, as if she was sleeping off a long day at the office. Her eyes were shut and a content smile graced her pale pink lips. Even after such a traumatizing night, the innocence he'd first seen in her was still etched on her face. It was as if his life had never touched her aside from the bandage she sported across her forehead. The sparkly chandelier earrings she'd been wearing that night were still fastened in place, dangling into her golden hair and throwing off little sparks of light from the fluorescent bulbs above.
"Felicity," he whispered the moment he reached the table. Sara let him go once he was leaning against the cold steel and stepped back into the shadows to give them some privacy. His hand immediately flew into her hair, caressing the golden strands until his palm fell against her cheek. Unconsciously, she burrowed into it and sighed in her sleep.
His heart seized. That wasn't what he expected to happen. The fear he'd felt in those first few moments after he'd brought her down here crept back in and he was back at that restaurant, gazing into her eyes, marveling at how they sparkled in the candle light. He was so scared that after tonight, they would lose that sparkle and she would become guarded, jaded. He was scared that his darkness might have finally seeped into her.
Absently stroking her cheek with his thumb, he didn't notice her eyes flutter behind her lids. Nor did he notice the way she swallowed and licked her lips just before opening those bright blue pools to stare up at him. He also failed to notice the smile that crept onto her face when she realized who was standing beside her. It wasn't until the soft sigh of his name escaped her mouth that he finally broke free from his thoughts and looked down at her.
"Oliver," she whispered again, her voice rough from disuse.
"Felicity," he breathed, the relief washing over him like a tidal wave. He leaned over the table and wrapped his arms around her, holding her close until his nose was buried in her hair. Feeling her hand settle on his shoulders, he closed his eyes and just breathed her in. The scent of her vanilla body wash mingled with that of scorched wood and fire and he was instantly transported back to the moment everything had turned to shit.
"I'm okay," she murmured into his ear. It only made him hold her tighter. She ran her hands up and down his back, attempting to soothe away the tension that had taken up residence in his muscles, but it didn't work. His fear remained deeply rooted in every part of his body. No amount of comforting words or touches would dissipate it.
"I almost lost you," he finally replied.
"But I'm still here," she said, her voice choked with emotions. "I'm still here. And I'm not going anywhere."
"I'm sorry," Oliver said as he pulled back to look at her. It wasn't just the night he was apologizing for, he realized, it was bringing her into his world. It was charming her into helping him with that stupid bullet riddled laptop. It was continuing to seek her out with technical help even if he was fully capable of doing things himself most of the time.
He couldn't keep doing this to her. He couldn't keep putting her in danger. She had become the most important person in his life, and nearly losing her tonight in the middle of their date, while they weren't even on a mission, that scared him more than anything. He couldn't lose her, so he did the only thing he could do in order to keep her safe. He let her go.
Disentangling himself from her arms, Oliver pulled away, not just physically, but emotionally as well. And she sensed it the moment it happened. "No, please," she begged, grabbing his hand and pulling him back to her. He resisted, keeping at an arm's length. "Please, Oliver," she begged, her voice cracking.
That was what did him in. His eyes settled on hers and they stared at each other for several long moments. He sighed deeply. "I… I can't," he whispered roughly, giving her hand a gentle squeeze before letting it go. This time, she didn't try to stop him. He didn't dare look back as he walked away, head down and eyes on the floor, fearing if he did, he'd lose his resolve.
The muffled cry he heard from behind him made Oliver's step falter, but he didn't look back, he couldn't look back. He just kept walking, up the stairs and out the door, out into the cold stillness of the night that seeped into his heart and deep into his soul.
It was one thing to work with Felicity, day in and day out. It was another thing to be more that what they were. He thought he could have both, but after tonight, he knew, deep in his heart, that wasn't something fate would allow him. His sins still far outweighed his good deeds and until he could figure out how to find that balance, it was better off keeping Felicity at an arm's length, even if it meant driving her away in the process.