A/N: I'm really happy this story has gotten a lot of positivity despite it going against the grain that is shipping these two. Anyway, I wanted to update this as well as some other fics. I've been reading your reviews and you guys are just too kind! I miss updating as much as I used to be hearing how much you've all enjoyed my work has meant a lot. So I shall do my best to update more of my work!

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TWENTY ONE

Together

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Life had settled into a sense of normalcy over the next few weeks that Lana quite enjoyed. Oliver went to his practice during the week and while he was away at work, Lana did just about anything to keep busy. She cleaned the house from top to bottom and attempted to cook the best she could. She tried to teach herself how to sew but that hadn't been one of her best ideas. After pricking herself multiple times in the fingers with a needle, she gave up and found herself busy out in the garden. She still woke multiple times during the night from night terrors and shied away when someone was at the door but she was managing better every day.

Oliver was proud at the progress she had made. Lana was back to being a regular person-well, almost just about. Still, to the naked eye of another person that did not know her, she seemed more than normal. And when Oliver arrived home from work, there she was with a smile, happy to see him. His lips found her own and before he knew it, their clothes were thrown about the house, their bodies pressed together, souls finding one another.

The dream like haze went on for weeks until one late morning, just before four am, Oliver found himself waking up to the sound of movement in the bathroom. He reached his hand out in search of Lana but the space next to him on the bed was empty. He sat up, eyes still heavy with sleep and looked around for her. The room was empty.

"Lana?" He stood from the bed and went to the bathroom, slowly pushing the door open. "Lana?" He switched the light on and found Lana on the floor of the bathroom, head hanging above the toilet. Oliver frowned at this, worry instantly filled him, "Lana, are you okay?"

"Ugh," Lana groaned, lifting her head from the bowl as Oliver knelt at her side and brushed her hair back. "I don't think I cooked that chicken very well." She joked.

Oliver chuckled and gave a sigh, "You don't look very good." He caressed her cheek and felt her temperature. She felt a bit warm and her face was pale. She gave him a lazy smile, trying her best to look alright for his sake but she was nauseous beyond belief and she felt a little light headed.

"I'm fine. I'm sorry I woke you."

"That doesn't matter." He studied her expression and handed her a tissue. Lana took it with a soft thank you and wiped her mouth.

"Seriously, Oliver. I'm okay."

"Are you sure?" He eyed her skeptically.

She smiled, "Yes, thank you."

Oliver stood, "Alright, at least let me get you a glass of water." He turned on his feet and left the bathroom.

Lana groaned to herself in discomfort but flushed the toilet and stood to wash and rinse out her mouth. She looked at herself in the mirror and noticed her pale expression. It had been the third morning that week that she had been awakened by a deep and serious nausea. It had just been the first time her ordeal had awakened Oliver. It must have been something she'd eaten earlier that week.

When Oliver returned to the bedroom Lana was back in bed. He handed her the glass of water and she took it with a thank you. He sat at her side and watched her, "Are you sure you're alright? Would you like me to take you to the hospital?"

"No, that's not necessary." She waved the idea away. Just the thought of entering a hospital terrified her. She knew it wasn't the same as Briarcliff but the fear still shook her from the inside out. She drank the water and set the glass on the nightstand. "You're worrying over nothing. Trust me."

Oliver continued to eye her cautiously. Lana had a habit of not wanting to alert him when she wasn't feeling well. She said she didn't want him to worry but he didn't mind worrying about her. He almost wanted to chuckle at the fact that he had done nothing but worry about her since the moment he met her. It's what people did when they cared and loved for someone: they worried over their well being. "Well, okay. Try and get some sleep then. It's still very early."

Oliver climbed back into bed and turned the light off. Somewhere in the darkness Lana found her way into his arms.

...

Mornings without Oliver were often slow. It was raining outside on that Wednesday morning and Lana sat on the floor of the living room attempting a puzzle Oliver had brought home for her. The television was on and Lana would occasionally glance up to watch it. She was looking for a particular piece when a commercial on women's designer undergarments came on. Lana's hand stopped and her eyes flashed up to the television screen, her heart began to accelerate just a little. Her eyes wandered down the woman's figure, lips parted slightly as she held her breath. She felt her toes curl and her fingers twitched. She felt that same sensation that traveled through her body and made her stomach flip. The same feeling she felt when Oliver kissed the crook of her neck but at the same time it was different.

The commercial ended and Lana snapped back into her senses. She looked down at the puzzle in front of her and her eyes watered. There were parts of her emerging slowly, day by day. Parts of her that had been repressed, parts that she was sure would never disappear.

Lana found the piece she was looking for and put it in its place. A perfect fit. She thought of Oliver in that moment. He was a perfect fit. She felt safe with him, loved and protected. She didn't want to give that up.

That evening they gathered in Oliver's study and continued their therapy sessions. Oliver knew it wasn't the best idea to continue to be Lana's therapist while he was making love to her at the same time. It was not ethical but Lana enjoyed their sessions together. They seemed to help her and he kept a very clear and logical head about him.

Lana told Oliver about her dreams in the past few nights. She had dreamt of the nuns in Briarcliff and some of the patients as well. She had a very peculiar dream about Pepper coming to visit their home. Oliver found that dream very amusing indeed. But what Lana did not tell him was the feelings she felt when she saw that commercial on the television. She didn't want to worry him or cause him to distance himself from her.

Oliver studied Lana's expression. He had been keeping an eye on her since she had gotten sick in the morning the other day. She still looked somewhat tired to him, like she hadn't been sleeping well but she had not complained to him about any discomfort.

"Tell me, Lana, how have you been feeling with your morning sickness?" He paused at his choice of words. He hadn't implied it in that way whatsoever. He then cleared his throat and repeated his question in a different matter, "I meant, have you felt sick again?"

Lana shook her head. "No."

He nodded and didn't think twice about it. He had purchased some medicine for her, perhaps it had helped and whatever bug Lana had acquired was out of her system. He smiled in relief, "Good. I'm glad to hear it."

"Oliver?"

"Hmm?" He glanced up from his notes to meet her gaze. She still looked a little troubled, "What is it, Lana?"

"I'm a bit tired. Do you think I could go and rest?"

"Yes, of course." He stood from his seat and helped her up, "You don't have to ask."

Lana forced a smile and gave him a little nod. Oliver followed after her and watched as she retreated to their shared room and closed the door half way behind her. He gave out a soft sigh and retreated back to his study. It was a good thing Lana had decided to rest, a decent nap would help her feel better.

Lana napped for the greater part of the afternoon while Oliver finished some of the work he brought home with him. He had been seeing some regulars in the past weeks and each of them had their own set of problems. He looked over his notes from the last few sessions until his eyes grew tired and he decided to stop for the evening.

When he stepped out of his study, Lana was in the living room sitting down with her puzzle. He smiled when he saw her, "You're awake."

She smiled sheepishly, "Sorry, I didn't want to disturb you."

Oliver walked over and kissed her. "No, don't worry about it." He walked over to the bar and poured himself a drink, "I just realized we don't have anything for dinner. I'm going to have to go to the store. Did you need anything while I'm there?"

Lana tilted her head slightly, running through her mind for anything she might be missing. "Not that I can think of, no."

"You sure?" He kept his eyes on the drink he was making, "Do you have everything you need?"

"Like what?" She turned her attention back to her puzzle.

"I don't know, maybe some of those face creams? Any snacks? Maybe uh," He stuttered a bit, "Feminine products?"

Lana froze and looked back at Oliver. She still had a box of feminine products under the sink. They had been sitting there unused and untouched. "No, I'm okay." She turned back to her puzzle.

"Are you sure?" Oliver turned to look at her. Lana always made some kind of hint when she needed anything of the sort. Now that she had been reminded of how her body worked, she grew protective of her privacy and chose not to speak of certain things out loud with Oliver. He understood that; there was nothing wrong with that. She wasn't embarrassed or ashamed. She just wanted it to stay her own personal business. Anyway, he couldn't remember the last time she had hinted that she needed anything.

"Yes," Lana grew irritable as she couldn't find the puzzle piece she was looking for, "Oliver, I'm fine!" She snapped and then looked up at Oliver shocked at her own outburst. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to…"

Oliver chuckled and walked over to her, planting a kiss on top of her head. "That's alright. Go on and finish your puzzle. I'll be right back."

She watched him go, guilt eating away at her. She just couldn't explain what was going on in her head. But that was nothing new to her.

The next evening after Oliver came home, Lana found herself perched on his lap as they both sat on the sofa. He had a book about Greek myths in his hands and was reading it out loud to her. Lana paid attention to every single word, mesmerized by all of the stories. She loved the moments when he read to her. They were the ones where she felt the most normal.

Sometimes Lana had flashbacks of her old life. Sometimes they were snippets in dreams. She recalled glasses of whiskey and cognac. Cigarettes and red lips. She recalled a typewriter and stacks of graded papers. Nothing really made sense but Lana did not wish to pry much or at all. She feared the truths she might discovered if she tried too hard to remember.

"I was a writer." She spoke up.

Oliver stopped mid sentence, "What was that?"

"I was a writer of sorts? You told me once."

"Why yes," He lowered the book, his voice low and hesitant. It scared him too when she remembered things but his fears were different than her own. "You were a journalist. A reporter."

"So I wrote stories like in the news?"

"Yes that is correct."

Lana pondered for a moment, "Was I good at it?"

Oliver felt himself smile, "Yes, yes you were. Damn good I'd say."

Lana smiled at this too. "I wish I could remember some of it. Any of it."

"Maybe one day you will."

"What kind of stories would I report?"

"Mostly crime. The last story you were working on was on a...um,"

"On a what?"

"Some criminal." Oliver did not want to speak of that man, that Bloody Face. It might feed into Lana's night terrors. "That doesn't matter now, Lana. What matters is the life ahead of you. You could still write, if you'd like."

Lana laughed at this, "And what could I possibly write about? The milkman that stops by every other morning? The puzzle I'm about to finish? The weeds I pulled from the garden? I doubt any of that is very interesting…"

Oliver kissed the back of her head, "Lana, you're the only one I know capable of making a story about weeds sound interesting."

She leaned back against his chest, letting him wrap his arms around her in a tight hug. She felt so safe with him. "And only you believe that."

"Maybe so." He picked up the book and continued to read meanwhile Lana became distracted with her own thoughts, mind far away from Gods and myths. Perhaps it would be nice to start writing again.