Chapter 21; Just a kiss and you make me forget you don't know, how far I'd be willing to go you can count on me to always be there

Oliver

Oliver slowly and distractedly traced Sara's naked side with his hand, watching her sleep while his thoughts were a million miles away. He had just woken up a couple of minutes ago. Woken up from his impromptu nap, after… after… he softly kissed Sara's neck before laying his head back down on the pillow. He felt better, calmer now. Like he always did after seeking comfort in Sara's body. Part of him felt bad, bad about using her like this. Even more so after the way he had treated her right before… he closed his eyes for a moment, exhaling. His hand slowly drawing circles on her rounded stomach. He moved his head forward a fraction to kiss the back of her head, breathing in her unique scent.

Fuck, he loved her. He loved her so damn much.

He had missed her so fucking much. After she had left for Nanda Parbat. And then she had come back, and he had gotten used to, used to the fact that no matter what, his Pretty Bird would always find her way back home, even if only for a little while. He had just gotten used to that. And then she had given him a small glimmer of hope, when he had asked her if her being back was more permanent.

"We'll see."

Coming from Sara, that had almost been a fucking confirmation. It had been as close to a promise as it could get with her. And he had hoped, hoped that maybe she'd come home, that maybe she could somehow split her time between the League and Nanda Parbat and him, her family, his Team and Starling. He had actually dared to hope that maybe she became a more permanent fixture in his life again. Only to… only to walk in to the Foundry to her broken, bloodied and cold body lying on the table.

Her beautiful eyes staring empty into space.

All the life, the love and compassion usually reflecting in them gone forever and he couldn't bear, he couldn't bear looking at those lifeless, empty eyes where so much life and love used to be. So, he had closed them. So, he wouldn't have to look at that empty stare anymore.

That empty stare that represented the cold, hard truth.

Sara was dead.

His Pretty Bird had been shot from the sky. She would never fly again.

His Tweety Bird had come home for the last time. Had left him for the last time.

He had felt as if someone had pulled the rug out from under him. He had only just gotten used to the fact that she would always come back home… god; it had hurt. It had hurt so damn much. He had thought he would suffocate because he couldn't breathe. Or that he would surely bleed to death from the gaping hole in his chest.

People would think he'd gotten used to losing her by then, but that time had been different. It had been the first time he had irrefutable proof that she was dead. There was no more hoping that maybe she was still somewhere out there, that maybe she had survived too. No more hoping that she would come back home. Just like birds did, they flew south in winter and came back north in summer. There was no more hoping that his Pretty Bird would come back to him, her north, the way birds always do.

Because for the first time there was a body.

Her dead body was lying in front of him, broken, shot full of arrows, unmoving and cold to the touch.

He still doesn't remember most of that day, and the days that followed it. He still wasn't sure how he had made it through that year. Where he had pulled the strength from to keep going, to not give up. He knew part of it had been to make sure, make sure that her killer would be brought to justice, would suffer the way he was suffering every day because his Sara was gone.

Because his Canary had been taken from him. Forever.

And he had failed. He had let Malcolm live.

There was a part of him, and not just the part that belonged to Sara, that wondered why? Why hadn't he killed Malcolm? He would have deserved it. He would have deserved to receive the same treatment Shrieve got from him in Hongkong, for taking his Pretty Bird's life just to further his selfish plan.

Why did he allow him to breathe, still?

Oliver wasn't sure. Wasn't sure it had been the right choice. Still wasn't sure that Malcolm being alive was a good thing and that his leniency with his best friend's and baby sister's father wasn't going to be something he would end up regretting again. Malcolm had been the reason William had been taken.

There were a lot of things Oliver wasn't sure about where Malcolm was concerned.

But there was one thing he knew for sure, now. He would kill him without a moment's hesitation should he ever come near either of his children, or Sara for that matter, ever again. And he was sure that Tommy would understand. That his best friend would understand if he killed his father to keep his children and Sara safe.

At least he hoped Tommy would.

Oliver focused on the soft skin under his hand for a moment, the warm body pressed up to his, breathed in her scent again and kissed her head and shoulder several times in close succession. Reminding himself that Sara was alive, she was home; she was right here. She was fine.

When Sara had left after her resurrection it had been torture. He had felt like a part of him was missing, that she had ripped a part of his heart out of his chest and took it with her. He had always felt like a part of him was missing, every time he had lost her, or she had left, like someone cut off one of his limbs, and he could still feel phantom pain. But that time, that time had been so much worse. Because he had known, he had known how much she was hurting, how badly she was struggling and knowing that she chose solitude over his help… the thought of her being somewhere in this world all alone, avoiding people and suffering… it had nearly killed him. The only thing that had brought him some release from that pain had been their phone calls. Hearing her voice and knowing that she was still alive… still out there… still letting him be a part of her life, even if only from the distance. It had meant everything to him. Just like her actions after she had learnt about what had been going on in his life.

She would never truly know or understand just how much it had meant to him that she had come back home to him.

That she had come home to him when he had needed her most. And that it had been entirely her choice. He had told her she didn't have to. That he couldn't ask her to. That it was fine. That he was going to be fine. Knowing that she had still chosen to come home for him, to be there for him, even after his reassurances. It meant the world to him.

Sara and their unborn daughter meant everything to him.

He wasn't sure if he could let her go again when the time came. He wasn't sure if he was strong enough to watch her leave again. But he also knew that he would never make her stay. He would never ask her to stay while knowing she wanted to leave. He refused to cage his Canary. Ever. He'd much rather let her rip his heart out again than be the reason she felt caged and miserable. Be the reason she couldn't spread her wings and fly free.

Sara had always been a free spirit, a wild child. She had always had that need, that longing to be free. Free to do what she wanted. To go where she wanted. To be who she wanted to be and to be with whoever she felt like being with at that moment in time. Her freedom, her lack of care about societies rules and expectations had always been something he had admired and envied her for. It had been one of the things that had drawn him to her. How could he ever expect her to deny that part of her that made up an enormous amount of who she was? He could never do that. He could never ask her to make such a humongous sacrifice. Not for him.

Just like he was no longer sure if he could give up their daughter. The more he thought about it, the harder it got to stick with his original choice. He was still convinced that it would be the best and safest option for their baby girl if she were raised by people with less mental health issues and dangerous enemies than he and Sara had. There was no question of that in his mind. Keeping her in their lives would automatically put a target on her back. She would be in danger from day one. And he knew it was a danger and a risk he should not be willing to take, his daughter's life should not be something he'd willingly gamble with but he just couldn't get John's words out of his mind:

"I know where Sara is every night, Oliver. I know what she's doing, who she's with. She sees my face every single day. I'm there for her, and she knows, and I know that I would never let anything bad happen to her. I keep her close, man, and that's how you keep your children safe."

A huge part of him knew, his heart, his soul, his entire being knew, that he would need to know, once that baby was born that he would need to know where his little Hummingbird was, that she was okay, that she was safe and loved and taken care of and… he seriously doubted that he could give her up, not once he met her, held her… she was a part of him… but more importantly she was a part of Sara. And he knew, rationally he knew there was a huge chance that Sara would leave once their little Hummingbird was born. To make sure that she would not become a danger to her daughter. As absurd as the notion of Sara ever becoming a danger to their child was to him. He knew that she would do whatever she deemed necessary and right to keep their daughter safe. And he was almost sure that there was no way that he could handle loosing them both, that he would be able to give up the tiny human that was a part of Sara.

He stopped the movement of his hand on her stomach and stretched his fingers as far apart as he could to span as much of her pregnant belly and their child as possible.

Oliver felt her shift slightly in his arms, and he lifted his head again to see if he's actions had woken her up. He smiled slightly when he saw that she was in fact still fast asleep. He kissed her temple and drew her close, nuzzling her neck softly. He closed his eyes and tried to get some more sleep too. He could use it.

The next time he woke up it was dark outside, and he could hear noises from the kitchen. He tensed for a moment before remembering that Dinah was still staying with them. She must have gotten back from… where ever she had been after Sara had come home once they were done with their shopping trip. He buried his head in Sara's neck for a moment longer, just basking in her company before slowly detangling himself from her body and getting off the bed. He walked to his dresser and pulled out a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt. He left his bedroom, after carefully pulling the comforter over Sara's sleeping form, slightly opening one window, turning on the small lamp in the room's corner to ensure that it wasn't pitch black when she woke up and glancing back one last time a tender smile adorning his face, before pulling the door until it was almost closed, but not completely, knowing that Sara didn't like to be in rooms with closed doors.

He softly padded towards the kitchen and the noise and light coming from it. He stopped in the doorway watching Dinah cook for a moment, being reminded of all the times he had spent at the Lances growing up, watching Dinah cook while Laurel and Sara were sitting at the table close by or on one of the counters chatting with their mom and him. He missed those times. Life had been so much simpler back then.

"Oliver. I didn't wake you, did I?" Dinah had turned around and was studying him now.

"No, no, you didn't. I'm honestly surprised I slept as long as I did." He ensured her and explained.

"Is Sara still asleep? I think I might have expected too much of her today and completely tired her out." The older woman asked and admitted sheepishly.

"Yeah, she's still out cold. Don't worry about it. She tends to do that all on her own anyway. Did you at least manage to convince her to buy some clothes? I know how reluctant she was about the simple concept of getting new clothes." He stepped further into the kitchen while talking to Dinah, taking hold of a chair and moving it to the counter before sitting down.

"That's our Sara. Yeah, it took a lot of convincing, but in the end, she just capitulated once she realized that I would just make her try on even more clothes until she agreed to buy something. I know my daughter and how to get her to do what I want." Dinah told him, grinning, and Oliver automatically returned her grin with one of his own. He could just picture Sara's exasperation because of her mother's antics.

"Can I help you with anything?" He wondered after watching her in silence for a couple of minutes.

"No, I'm fine. Thank you. You just sit and relax, honey." She smiled at him warmly and turned back to the stove.

Oliver went back to watching her and his thoughts.

It was very easy to see where Sara got most of her personality from. Dinah's first question implied that she had known that they were asleep, which meant that she had probably gone to check on them and seen them in bed together. And yet, she acted as if nothing had happened. As if finding them naked in bed together was the most normal thing in the world. Dinah's easy-going attitude had always been something that he had appreciated and enjoyed growing up. She had been one of many reasons why he used to love spending time at the Lances. And he still appreciated it now.

She wasn't pushing them. Wasn't questioning them. Wasn't judging them for their actions and choices, and he was so very grateful for it. He was grateful for her presence and the way she was taking care of Sara and him. He had always considered her to be like a very cool aunt or something. A grown up he actually enjoyed spending time with because she wasn't as strict and stiff as the rest and used to do small things that you weren't supposed to, like eat some chocolate before dinner and actually handing each one of them a small piece while winking at him mischievously and pretend nothing had happened when Quentin appeared. And she was the only parent who had the tendency to watch him, Tommy and Sara while they were doing something stupid, that they probably weren't supposed to, without interfering simply wanting to see what they had come up with this time and whether it would actually work. Most of the time simply amused by their antics and impressed with some of the things they had come up with.

She had pretty much been the only teacher he had actually liked and respected. And the only teacher who hadn't been exasperated because of him and his lack of interest in anything relating to school. Not that she had ever actually been his teacher. He pretty much owed any success he's had in his school career to both Laurel and Sara, and Dinah. They had pushed him and made him sit down and do his homework or study with them. It wasn't that he couldn't have done it or that he was stupid. He just never saw the point. He never understood why his grades mattered.

You got good grades to get into good colleges to get a well-paid job. He was a billionaire's son; he didn't need a well-paid job; he had a trust fund. Besides, he had known for as long as he could remember that he would take over Queen Consolidated no matter what. No discussion, no choice in the matter. So, he really didn't need to go to a good college, which meant he didn't need good grades, so there was really no reason for him to learn or pay attention in class.

He would take over the family business whether or not his grades were good.

Besides, his parents would probably just donate a shit ton of money to whatever college they wanted him to go to, to make sure he would get in. It was what they always did when it came to anything concerning him. Throw money at the situation until it was solved or gone.

So, he had always figured there was really no point.

All three Lance women saw it differently and encouraged him to at least pay attention and try. Dinah had spent countless hours sitting down with him, going over subjects he actually struggled with, not stopping until he finally got it. Never giving up on him, never losing her patience.

He owed her so much.

"Okay, so dinner is almost ready. What do you think, should we let Sara sleep or wake her up?" the subject of his thoughts turned towards him, looking at him expectantly.

"I'll go wake her up. She's been asleep for over four hours, she'll probably be starving. I hope you made enough food, she's always had a healthy appetite as you know, she eats at least four times as much as she usually does now, per meal." Oliver jokingly told Dinah, exaggerating entirely, she ate around double of what she had before. Dinah laughed at his joke and started to get everything ready while he left the kitchen to go get Sara.

Oliver quietly stepped into his room and walked around his bed until he was on Sara's side. He knelt down and softly brushed a strand of hair from her face before gently caressing her cheek. It didn't take long before she groggily blinked her eyes open, looking a little disoriented at first, until her eyes found his.

"Hey sleepyhead… sorry for waking you but your mom made dinner, and we figured you must be hungry, you've been asleep for over four hours." He whispered while still tenderly brushing his thumb over her cheek. She gazed at him before smiling softly, slowly moving forward until she could bend down to tenderly kiss his lips while softly placing one of her hands on his cheek, before running it through his hair until it came to rest on the back of his neck, softly playing with the short hair there.

"Hey… Thank you. I'm starving, actually. I'll be right there, I just have to head to the bathroom first. The tiny human inside of me seems to be confusing my bladder with a waterbed." Sara told him jokingly and then gave him another lingering kiss, which he naturally returned again before sitting up and swinging her legs over the edge of the bed. He handed her a pair of his sweats and their Rocket's sweater that he had gotten from his dresser on his way to her side of the bed. Before standing up and leaving her to it after, she moved her hand from his neck, heading back to Dinah.

"She'll be right here, she's just heading to the bathroom first. According to her, the tiny human inside of her is using her bladder as a makeshift waterbed." He told the older woman once he reached the kitchen, slightly amused by Sara's rather bizarre description.

"Good, that's good. Dinner is pretty much done. Oh, I remember that. She has no idea yet. If your little one is anything like Sara was, the fun is just beginning. Oliver… can I ask you something?" Dinah smiled at him and laughed while remembering her second pregnancy before her features turned serious when asking the question.

"Of course." Dinah's amusement about Sara's situation made him chuckle until the sudden shift in her mood and features, which led to Oliver looking at her intrigued, wondering what might be on her mind that was this serious and warranted such an enormous change in mood in so little time.

"Are you and Sara okay? There was a lot of tension between the two of you this morning. I don't mean to intrude. I'm just worried about you. You both have so much going on already, I just want to make sure that everything's okay between the two of you. I worry about both of you. And I know how important you are to her and she is to you. I would hate to see the two of you torn apart." Sara's mother looked at him with concern and compassion.

"We're okay, or we will be. You don't need to worry about that, Dinah. It'll take more than an argument for Sara and me to be torn apart, as you put it. I don't think there's anything that could ever make me turn my back on Sara. I've lost her too many times as to let some harsh words spoken in anger and pain fuck everything up and ruin our friendship." Oliver reassured and explained to Dinah. Hoping that she understood and that he could ease her worry and make her see that even if he and Sara should end up in another argument that might take longer to resolve than last nights, they would eventually resolve it and be okay again. Just like they always had.

"Thank you. I'm glad to hear that. And Oliver, thank you so much for everything you've done for her in the time you've known her and especially the last ten years. For being there for her when we couldn't, helping her when she wouldn't let us. It means the world to me and I know to Quentin too, even if that stubborn old mule would never admit it. I sleep better at night, knowing that she has you in her life, that you are still looking out for her. I'll be forever grateful for that and in your debt. You brought my baby home to me, not once but twice. I'll never be able to repay you for that. But I promise you, I'll always be there for you if you need someone to talk to or just to give you a motherly hug or cook you a meal. All you have to do is ask and please don't hesitate to call." Her heartfelt words took Oliver aback, and he didn't know what to say or do. But Dinah had already taken part of the decision from him and pulled him into a very tight, motherly hug, which he reciprocated automatically, before he knew how to react.

"You don't have to thank me for that, Dinah. Ever. Sara's… Sara… it was the least I could do. And I'll always be there for her. For as long as I live. And thank you, I might actually take you up on some of this." He was chocked up by her kind words and actions and he knew that it wasn't difficult to hear it in his voice. But there was nothing he could do about that. Besides, it was Dinah, he had known her for over twenty years. She was family. She was the closest thing to a mother he had.

"Please do. I have missed your very charming company and that pretty face of yours for the last couple of years." Dinah looked at him seriously for a moment to make sure she got her point across before teasing him to lighten the mood before Sara showed up. Grabbing his face and shaking it, laughing. He couldn't help but return her laugh.

"Well, we can't have that now can we." He teased her back right before his Pretty Bird walked in to join them for dinner.