Okay, my spouse has been really sick. First colon cancer and then lung. Lots of time in the hospital, two major surgeries, and still it's been forever since I've got to go to work. Funny I never thought I'd miss going to work. Yet, I still love this story. I hope you like this update. Enjoy.

#####OQ####

Later, at the end of a very long day, after he'd given her all of his attention, and she'd blown his mind, and now he lay in bed, wonderfully numb and beyond tired.

Sleep threatened and the only reason he managed to still be awake was that he wanted to savor her soft skin a few more moments.

He never took her silky skin for granted, and he never would, since he'd spent too long waiting and aching to be in this exact spot.

But between Mae's higher dose of blood pressure medication, and what she did to him, wearing him out, he needed to fall out and sleep.

She snuggled closer. Her hands smoothing his back, drawing small circles on his scarred skin, and he exhaled and tightened his grip.

Yet, fatigue pulled him solidly down.

Normally, he could stay awake after sex but the blood pressure drug's side effects worked against him tonight.

Losing the good fight, he felt sleep beckon.

He drifted in that sweet, pleasant place between sleep and wakefulness, as she pushed on him to turn over so she could hold him, pulling him close and engulfing him with her body and her scent.

Loving it, loving her, he allowed her touch, rather he relished it, like one would savor a double chocolate fudge treat, with nuts and whipped crème.

Enjoying her touch, he inhaled and pulled her arms closer as he softly said her name.

In his almost dream state, he knew when she settled her smooth skin against his back, and he drifted peacefully away.

But then she moved.

Jerking awake, he realized she'd rolled away to her back.

Eyes wide, he heard her exhale sharply, and he missed her skin's warmth.

Turning, she punched her pillow repeatedly and his mind moved into overdrive.

Slowly, he flipped over and pulled her close, spooning with her, placing his body against hers as he kissed her soft neck and whispered, "Nite. Shh, go to sleep. Rest. I'm tired."

Pushing against him, she turned and his eyes snapped open, as she said quietly, "I can't. I wish I could but I just can't."

"You can, just shut your eyes and go to sleep."

"I can't. Oliver, I need to tell you something."

Rolling on his back, he put his arm behind his head. "Okay, what's the problem?"

"Well . . ."

"Didn't I tire you out? I'd be willing to go another round if you're up for it." He teased.

Even in the dark, he surveyed her skin, and watched her blush pink, as the color rose on her cheek bones.

And yes, his chest swelled and he smiled.

"No, I mean yes. It's not that, and I didn't say I had a problem."

Yet, he heard it in her voice.

She had a problem.

And it was a major Felicity problem if the problem was keeping her awake.

"Look, I'm tired, almost exhausted, but I can tell something's bothering you, so spit it out."

"You're not going to like it."

Jesus, she was cute when she bit her lip like that.

His dick hardened at the sight of her and he grinned.

"Alright, and it's probably not going to be the last time I'm not going to be happy with you. Just go on and tell me, so we can both go to sleep or things are going to get interesting and neither of us aren't going to be sleeping."

He thrust into her softness and exhaled as she gasped before she said, "It's time."

Yawning, he ask, "Time for what?"

His eye lids were closing against his will.

"It's time for you to go see Riley in his office."

His eyes snapped open and he inhaled sharply. Sleep, now was the farthest thing from his mind as he became wide awake.

Dumping her back in the bed, he jerked straight up with the word, "Whoa."

"Whoa?"

"Yeah, whoa, it means, STOP!"

"Of course, it means stop. The word whoa has meant stop for centuries." She rolled and braced her head on her elbow, as she glared at him.

And his blood ran cold as he saw red.

Felicity was playing him and he knew it.

He spat the words, "Yeah, stop and I mean stop talking about this because that isn't happening. I AM NOT SEEING RILEY in his office."

"Yes, you are." She tucked a piece of her blonde hair behind her ear.

"No, I'm not."

"Yes, you are. I've made you an appointment and you're going. Enough excuses. Enough waiting."

He rolled his eyes before he pushed away from her and sat up in the bed. "I am not. Believe me, I'm NOT going."

"Stop raising your voice at me, since you're going." But her voice rose too.

"Felicity." His stomach tight now, he spat the words, "I can't talk to Riley. I've told you that. You will cancel that appointment since you had no right making it without asking me."

"We both know you'd have never agreed. So NO! That's not happening." Her blonde hair flew as she sat straight up. "I mean it. I've given you time and space, but it's time you start seeing Riley so you can get better. It's time you start trying."

"Stop pushing me. You can't just decide that I'm going to go and see that man."

"Oliver, I can and I have. I know you don't want change, but I love you and you need help. We need help, and I know you can do this."

"I'm not doing it. Now I'm tired."

Staring hard at him, she insisted, "Riley's a great guy. You have to try if you're going to get better."

"I've tried. Haven't I tried?" He ticked the points off on his fingers. "I'm on meds. I'm seeing Mae on a regular basis. I've let her run tests, lots of tests."

But he looked down when he said the words.

"Whatever!" She rolled her eyes. "I know you say you don't like Riley, but if you'd just give him half a chance, maybe he could help you, or us."

He growled instead of answered as he looked at the ceiling like it had the answers.

Her voice softened. "I understand it's hard for you to trust him, but I've been giving him a chance, and I'm starting to feel better about my parents, more at peace with them, with the fact that I have abandonment issues, and with our relationship, and I know if you would just try, maybe he could help you, help us, too. Please, Oliver. For me? For us? I want us to make it as a couple. Don't you?"

Turning into his chest, she reached and her hand smoothed his face, cupping his cheek.

Unable to stop himself, he leaned into her hand, loving her touch on his skin.

Jesus, her blue eyes pulled him in, enticed him to do what she wanted.

"Come on," she whispered as her hands wrapped around his neck and pulled him close. "You say you dislike him but I heard you side with him tonight when we were talking about that movie 'Me Before You.'"

He pulled her closer against his chest and laid back, draping her across his body as he appreciated her body against his for an instant. Smoothing her soft skin, he said, "That movie's a chick flick. And not only a chick flick but a tear jerker too. Of course, I sided with him. Riley and I are men, Felicity, and men don't do chick flicks unless forced."

She pulled away, sat up and crossed her arms in front of her chest. Lifting her chin, she looked him straight in the eye. "Men do too watch chick flicks. You've watched chick flicks with me."

First he grinned, and then he said, "Okay, I'll let you in on a little secret about guys."

Arching an eyebrow, she said, "Do tell."

"Well, when I'm first dating a woman I watch chick flicks but believe me, once you're sleeping in my bed . . ."

"You can't be serious."

His hand cupped her face before he added, "Like a heart attack. News flash, love, before a man sleeps with you, yeah, we'll watch chick flicks, while we're trying to sleep with you, yeah, we'll watch chick flicks but once you're a sure thing. Not happening."

"That's ridiculous."

He grinned before he kissed her soft, fragrant, skin, before he whispered against her skin, "No, it's not. I'm a man and men don't watch chick flicks after the chick is sleeping in our bed."

"I don't believe you just said that."

"Are you a chick?"

"Okay, I guess I am."

"Are you sleeping in my bed?"

"Looks like it."

"Then no chick flicks for me."

"Liar, you'd watch them with me. And you're going to see Riley. Thought I forgot that didn't you?" Giggling, she pressed her body against him, and he grinned into her skin, since she brought out the very best in him.

Lord, how could she possibly be this cute while she infuriated him, while she made him want to kill her?

"I'm not going."

Breathing through her nose, she added, "Okay, I've noted you don't want to go, but now let me give you a news flash, Oliver, you need help. You don't sleep and it drives me crazy, really crazy. I want to keep you around for a long time, want us to have a lot of years together and you need to sleep more."

He shut his eyes and breathed out through his nose, before he said, "So noted. And I could sleep right now if you'd be quiet. I'm exhausted, worn out. How about we talk about this tomorrow? Since we've come full circle now."

"I don't think so."

"Please, let's stop talking about this before we both get angry. How about we sleep on it and have another go at it tomorrow?"

"No, I need you to agree tonight. I need your dreams to go away. Enough is enough and we've got to find answers. It's time. Frankly, it's past time."

He moved to kiss her soundly, to shut her up since she wasn't giving a damn inch as usual.

But she turned her head and his lips landed on her cheek.

"Not going to be that easy."

"Come on cut me a little slack. We can talk about this in the morning."

"NOT HAPPENING. Man up, Oliver."

Totally, like her to be hard headed and frankly right now loving her was hard, since his anger wanted to overpower his love.

"Jesus woman, do you always have to push me?"

"I won't even justify that with an answer."

Of course, she'd stand her ground. Since she always pushed him, always challenged him and something warmed his stomach as a tiny shiver rocked him.

"Look, forget it. I'm not going to see Riley."

She took the kid gloves off as she said heatedly, "You are and it's not like you don't know that you need help. Admit it, for God's sake. You threw me bodily out of our bed the other night. I'm willing to admit you scared me. Now, I need you to try, Oliver. Please for us. "

Punching him in the face would have felt better, and his words were crisp as he pushed, "Or what?"

She bit her lip and looked away. "I don't know, but I do know I can't stop thinking about it. I told you it's okay. I understand you didn't mean to do it. And I try to convince myself it's okay but is it? What if you decide to choke me in my sleep? What if you. . ." Her voice trailed off and she refused to meet his eyes.

"What if I hurt you? Spit it out." He finished her sentence as her words hurt, stung, sunk deep and hurt his heart, since he'd feared for a long time that he'd hurt her in his sleep, worried himself sick about sleeping next to her, and knew he was being selfish since he kept sleeping with her when he knew he could hurt her.

Yet, when she batted those baby blues at him, he caved a little. "Okay, I can do Riley and Anna as friends, maybe. But, I don't want therapy. I just can't. Look, I've been better lately. Soccer practice is going pretty well. I'm sleeping more. I'm taking my meds. Please, give me a little more time, Felicity."

"You're lying about sleeping, Oliver. And you're out of time. What happens the next time?" He adverted his eyes as she added, "We both know that you hardly sleep."

"I'm doing better."

"Stop lying. You're not, and yes, trust me, you need therapy. Please, give Riley a chance."

"Don't say that."

Her hands smoothed his face. "I'm, so, going there."

Then she gave him that smile, that special smile, he thought belonged only to him.

Heat filled him as she smiled at him and his dick stirred, reminding him of how lovey she was. He had just had her and already he wanted more, wanted to make both of them forget the bad.

Yes, he loved her smile, the smile that lit his world up, and made him beyond hard, as she added, "I've been going to therapy a couple of weeks now, and I've let you ignore this conversation but enough is enough, Oliver."

Reaching, she hugged him, tightened her arms around him, as she added, "And I've given you time to adjust to the idea of going to therapy but it's time. Please, it's past time."

He answered her with silence, by looking at a spot on the wall, and he knew he was hurting her but couldn't stop.

Reaching, she pulled his face down almost to hers before she gave him her pouty face. "For me? Please?"

Yet, he couldn't. "No, you go to therapy tomorrow. I'm glad you think it's helping. You keep going. I want you to get better."

His hand swept her smooth cheek, touched her velvet skin and he shut his eyes, inhaled and sighed.

"I'm tired, Felicity, worn out. Need to rest. Let's go to sleep. We'll talk tomorrow."

"That's not going to work this time. You have an appointment tomorrow at one. Not me but you. One o'clock, right after lunch. I made you that appointment and you're going. And believe me, I'm already good since I'm with you. You're what I need."

Heat filled his chest at her words and he answered back, "I'm glad but listen to me."

"No, you listen to me. You're going tomorrow for us." Her voice stung.

His heart rate sped up. "Felicity, I know we've got history, a lot of history, but you can't force me, can't push me to do this. I need more time. So stop pushing."

"No, and I don't care that you have angry face."

She flashed him one of her amazing special smiles and it was all he could do not to melt.

"That smile of yours isn't going to work this time. I know normally your smile works but not this time."

Pushing her hand away from him, he crossed his arms in front of his broad chest and stuck out his chin.

"I'm not going to see Riley. You need to let that one go."

Narrowing her eyes at him, she said sharply, "Stop acting like a child, Oliver, for yes, you are going."

"I'm NOT."

"Yes, you are and I need you to live, Oliver. I LOVE YOU DAMN IT."

Her sad face broke his heart, and he looked away before he said harshly, "I'm trying to live. Mae almost has my blood pressure under control. I'm doing a lot better. I want to live, and I want to live with you. Please, FELICITY! Stop pushing me."

"Almost only counts in horseshoes and hand grenades. Come on, just give Riley a chance to help you with your PTSD. You can do this."

"Don't say those letters." His voice was gruff and hard.

"PTSD." She said repeatedly as she poked him with her pointer finger.

"Hand grenades. Now there's something I know a little bit about." His hands caught her hand, holding it and he jerked her hard into his body. His mouth found the nape of her neck and kissed.

"Awesome that you're teasing me, Oliver, but remember Riley's lost both his legs, had his legs blow off, so I'd say he understands about having a hard time. You need to think about that."

"I'm not going there, Felicity, and you shouldn't compare us."

"I can't help it."

"Yes you can."

She stared him down. "Okay, now you really have angry face. But believe me, you're going to that appointment."

His head pounded.

Shutting his eyes, he spat the words, "You had no right to make me an appointment, so you can just cancel it. Or better yet, you go in my place."

"I'm not going to cancel because you're going." Her hands smoothed his chest. "Nothing's changed and I need change. You still haven't dealt with your dreams. Mae has upped the dosage again and again and you're still dreaming, still having night terrors. You haven't dealt with your PTSD at all. You're still a walking time bomb. Do you want to land back in CCU? Do you want to have a stroke? Do you want to die and leave me alone? Or what about if you decide I'm the enemy?"

She thrust out her bottom lip and tipped her head at him looking really cute and he had to look away as he said forcefully, "I'm keeping it together. I told you I'm sorry. Believe me that's not going to ever happen again."

But, no matter how cute she was, how dare she? He had it under control. He was making sure of it by keeping a rigid rein on himself.

A very rigid rein on himself.

So what if he was losing weight again?

"Oliver, I love you, but I don't believe you, so I am giving you a choice. Either you go to your appointment or . . ." She sat up in the bed and pulled away from him.

"Or what?" He raised his head and propped it on his hand.

"Or I'm not sleeping with you from now on. Not until you agree to get help."

She cut the air with her hand. "You get nothing, nada, zip. I don't mean that like it sounds but then again, yes, I do. You're cut off."

Then, she grabbed her pillow and rolled naked out of their bed.

Sitting up, he groaned loudly. "Felicity, seriously, you don't mean that. You're being childish now."

"No, you are by refusing to try, to get help. Admit it, you like Riley. You could do this if you'd just try."

"Felicity, you don't mean this. Don't do this." He sat up in the bed.

Back straight, she walked naked to the dresser. Placing her pillow on top of the dresser, she opened the middle drawer and pulled out one of his t-shirts.

Oh, how he loved her body, and his dick jump just from the sight of her reaching for his t-shirt.

Slowly, she pulled his gray t-shirt over her head, then flipped her blonde hair, which for some reason he found sexy as hell.

Damn it, but he ached to be that t-shirt right now, ached to be plastered against her body, against her hot skin just like that shirt.

Slamming the dresser drawer shut, she opened another drawer. Pulling out a pair of hot red panties, she slowly pulled them up her awesome long legs until she cover up that wonderful ass of hers.

He groaned deep in his throat.

Okay, she had achieved killing him now since all he could think about was taking those red panties back off her, with his teeth.

Oh, yes, very slowly, with his teeth until he reached smooth, warm, skin.

And right the hell now.

But he knew that wasn't happening as she flashed him an icy look, a look that told him just how mad she was as she picked her pillow up and walked to the bedroom door.

"Felicity, don't make me come sleep with you on the couch." He yelled after her.

"Frack you, Oliver Jonas Queen."

And she slammed the bedroom door behind her.

Falling back on the bed, he grumbled, making an ugly face.

Flipping over on his side, he punched his pillow repeatedly and muttered, "Fine, I'll teach her a lesson. I don't need her to sleep. I can refrain from touching her for one night. It wasn't like we hadn't already had sex tonight."

He punched his pillow again reminding himself that he'd refrained for years.

He knew how to NOT touch her.

He'd had lots of practice, years of practice, just wanting her and not having.

What was one measly night?

Nothing, he assured himself.

Nothing at all, he'd just go to sleep.

If she wanted to sleep on the couch without him then fine, just fine.

Let her.

Shit, he was getting hard, just thinking about her on the couch and her sleeping alone.

She was the one that had left their bed not him, he assured himself.

Yes, he'd show her. She could just sleep on the couch without him.

Reaching, he shut off the light.

Turing turned on his side, he punched the pillow more than once. And he forced himself to try to sleep. He told himself to NOT think about her on the couch in his damn clingy t-shirt and those red hot panties.

Not that it was working.

A small sound, a very tiny sound reached his ears. And he hardened himself to the noise.

She wasn't going to control him like this.

He was not that EASY!

So what if it sounded like she was crying?

If he gave in, she'd use this method again.

He tried to ignore the sound, as her sobbing got louder, and guilt lay heavy on him as he realized that in all their fights, all their arguments she'd never used tears on him. She had walked away with tears in her eyes but never once had he heard her or seen her cry.

Well, she should have since her tears worked. Already, he struggled with wanting to go to her. Just the thought he'd made her cry caused his stomach to plummet and his chest to ache.

Before he could stop himself, he rolled out of the bed. Crossing the room, he yanked open the door with her name on his lips.

"Felicity? Please, don't do that."

"Go away, Oliver." She gave a small, heart filled sob. "I'm mad at you, since, you won't even try."

Oh, yes, she was crying.

Guilt attacked him, dragging him down.

Crap, he'd made her cry because he wouldn't go and see Riley. He'd made her cry because he wouldn't even try.

"And, you're going to die and leave me alone anyway, so I might as well get used to it, get used to sleeping alone again."

And she sniffed.

And his heart contracted.

"I'm not going to die." His voice solid. He tried to inject the fact he was going to survive, no matter what.

"You don't know that. Can't promise that."

And before he knew it, he'd crossed the room and picked her up and cradled her in his arms, and he was shhhing her and saying, "Okay, you win. I'll go."

"You're just saying that." She planted her face in his chest, sobbing, as her body shook in his arms.

"No, I mean it. I'll go. I promise. I'll try. For you, I'll try."

"Really?" Looking up at him, he found her slight smile watery to say the least.

But her tiny slight smile, the light filled one that he truly believed she reserved just for him shows through, the one that assured him that she'd chosen him. Moving, he kicked the bedroom door shut, then threw her playfully on the bed and pinned her with his body, his weight.

His hands smoothed his t-shirt against her skin, molding it to her skin, as his mouth found the nape of her neck and sucked so slightly, as he said, "I need you too, past need you."

"Then hold on," she said with a moan as she wrapped herself around him.

"I want to be this t-shirt," he whispered in her ear. "To be this close to your skin, to touch you, wrap myself around you. All of me wants to be this t-shirt. Don't ever do that again."

"What?"

"Leave me to sleep alone."

"Oliver," she laughed after she said his name. "You hardly sleep now."

"I know but I sleep better with you. Don't leave me alone."

"Okay."

And his mouth savored her skin.

#####OQ#####

Later, much later as he held her and dropped kisses onto her head, just before she fell asleep, she said, "If I'd have known crying would make you cave so quickly, we would have been sleeping together years ago. Or was it the red panties?"

"I'm going to pretend you didn't ask that."

"Okay, that's probably for the best." But he could see her smile as her eyes fluttered shut.

And he thought, yes, it was the panties, probably, mainly, but then it could have been her tears or the t-shirt. It didn't matter. And he whispered, "I just need you in my life."

#####OQ#####

"If you were to rate you anxiety between one for none and ten for the worst you have ever experienced, what number would you give it right now?"

Riley sat across the table from him, his expression neutral and his heart kicked into overdrive.

"I don't know if I can put a number on it."

"Try."

The man looked in straight into the eye as he opened a box and took out a board that had holes in it.

It was a board game he'd never seen before.

"Okay, we're going to play a game." He wiped his damp hands down his slacks.

"Yeah, I've found that games help put people at ease."

He realized it wasn't working for him, since his heart hammered against his chest, like he'd fought ten men, but he still managed to say, "Who said I was anxious?"

"Oliver, that's a clear lie by avoidance. I see how you turned that back on me and didn't answer the question. I would bet you're a master at that skill. Years of practice, no doubt. We'll have to work on that."

"Aggravation." He read the name of the game. "I've never played it."

"And you're still avoiding the real question," he said, "You're the pro at this, but I know you're anxious. So answer the question. I need a baseline here."

"I'm not anxious."

"Your hand betrays you, Oliver. I've noted the small tick you have in your hands. I see the way you hold your body straight and rigid. So put a number on it. One to ten. One meaning that you have no anxiety, which is probably never and ten meaning you really need to hit something. And don't lie. This isn't going to work at all if you lie to me. Felicity has warned me that you'll try to lie to me. So don't."

He shut his eyes for an instant. And he breathed out through his nose and said, "Okay, five."

"Good, so we'll call that about an eight? Now what two colors do you want to be? Orange and blue or yellow and white?"

"Two?"

"Yes, it helps make the game fair. One color I'm behind you, and one color you'll be behind me. So we both have the same chance to knock the other home."

"I'm surprised Felicity didn't tell you that I don't play well with others."

"Oh yes, she mentioned that among other things."

"What things?"

"I think they call that patient doctor confidentiality."

"But you can tell me that Felicity said I don't play well with others."

"No, you said it, I merely agreed."

He sighed and realized Riley was sharp. He'd have to be on his toes here.

"Now pick two colors."

"Okay, orange and blue."

Riley handed him a box of dice. "Pick one."

The box contained red dice, green dice and white dice. And he frowned in indecision.

"It's not a test, Oliver. Just pick a dice."

"You sure?" He caught Riley's eye.

Nodding, the man said, "I'm sure. Pick one."

"Okay."

He chose a red dice because it reminded him of her. And Felicity looked awesome in a tight red dress. Felicity looked hot in red lipstick. Red equaled his Felicity.

"Rules of the game are it takes a one or a six to get out. If you roll a six you get an extra turn. If you take a man out, you get an extra turn. This," he pointed to the holes with the stars, "is called Short, if you land exactly there, then you can go the fast track around to get back to home, which is the option of the game. To win you have to get all your marbles home. This of course is the middle." He pointed to the hole in the middle.

"You can go to the middle from anywhere but you have to land exactly here. And you can come out anywhere but you have to have a one to get out. You can go first. Roll."

He rolled and got a five. Riley rolled and got a one and he was out. He rolled again and got a two.

Riley rolled and got a six and got another man out then rolled again, "You should always get off your start if you can," he added. "Yes, you can't just sit. Just like life you have to move forward. And you have made some progress with your PTSD, Oliver. You've accepted that you could have a life. You've committed to Felicity and asked her to marry you. All those things are a step in the right direction."

Finally, Oliver got a man out and the game progressed. He decided he didn't like it when Riley knocked him back home. About the fourth time, Riley sent him home, he said, "No one likes to go back to the beginning again but sometimes it's necessary."

"Necessary?"

"Yes, to start over is sometimes the best thing for us. Look at you and Felicity, you two have started over together."

It was true he and Felicity had driven away. They'd started over. They were trying to create a brand new life, a normal life.

Oliver took a chance and jumped into the middle and found he couldn't roll a one to get out to save his life, which thankfully wasn't an issue at this moment.

Riley finally nailed him with a five and a small grin and sent him back home with the words, "Sometimes we put ourselves in a situation that we can't get out of, and we have to have help to find our way back."

Finally the game was over and Riley won, though at the end it was close since he only had one more marble to get home.

Oliver frowned because he hated to lose but Riley said, "And this game is like life. Sometimes we win and sometimes we lose. But like life, it's the roll of the dice, and we can't always control our lives, for we never really know what's going to happen next. Now, Oliver, rate your anxiety between one and ten. Honestly, please."

He realized he was very calm and he said, "One?"

"Good, now do you have a happy place, a good thought?"

"Yes," and he did.

"Okay, I want you to envision it now. Shut your eyes if you want. Can you see it?"

"Yes." He reached for the memory of her sitting on the beach between his legs, watching the sunset with her settled comfortably against him, her scent surrounding him, and her soft body pressed against his.

It was one of his favorite memories.

Yet, his stomach tightened, the feeling of free falling nibbling at him, kicking his pulse up, as his adrenaline tightened his muscles, making breathing harder.

"Now, I want you to remember an event that brothers you, something that makes you angry. Maybe something you dream about, that disrupts your sleep. Pick the image that makes you the angriest."

"Who said I was angry?"

"Don't insult my intelligence. I'm damn sure angry that one second I had legs and the next they're blown off, so believe me, I recognize the emotion when I see it. But you can get only better if you try, if you work at it."

Exhaling, he ask quietly, as he looked at a place on the wall beyond Riley's shoulder, "Can you make the nightmares go away?"

The silence stretched out before he shifted his sight to watch Riley frown and move in his seat before he tented his fingers. "Nightmares are tricky things. People build walls in their minds to survive the day, construct barriers to cope with memories. We use self-help methods. We keep busy, push ourselves to exhaustion to sleep, and use exercise, booze, drugs, sex, whatever it takes to self-medicate to control, to maintain and to keep the memories, the guilt, the pain, the self-hate, whatever the person is dealing with inside at bay. But at night, the barriers drop away and our minds try to work out the conflict in our dreams. It's not easy to find the key to stop dreams."

"Then you've had no success helping people with dreams?" His heart sank and he told himself that he knew this therapy crap was a total waste of his time. No one could help him and his problems and he knew it.

Riley stared him straight in the eye. "I didn't say that I couldn't help but you have to be willing to try, and it will take work and time. But the journey of a thousand miles begins with one step."

"Lao Tzu."

Grinning, the man, nodded. "You know your quotes. Philosophy student?"

"Hardly, I've just met some interesting people in my life."

"Why am I'm not surprised? But now the question is are you brave enough to take that step?"

He exhaled, realizing Riley knew exactly how to push his buttons and there was nothing he could do about it. Lifting his chin, he nodded. "Yeah, I am."

"Excellent. Then let's talk about the fact that we all get angry."

"I try not to get angry."

"Alright, so do I. But when I do. . ."

As he watched, Riley cracked his neck, and he understood that Riley also had issues, and he knew it for sure when the man said evenly, "I feel my anger in my chest, my muscles, and my throat. Mainly right here." The man closed his eyes as he laid his hand over his chest, then sighed before he said, "Can you tell me where you feel anger in your body?"

The words slipped out.

"My chest tightens, my throat constricts, and my stomach plunges. And my fists ache."

He saw Hedeon's face and his discomfort rose by leaps and bounds.

"Focus on the image that causes those feelings, and I want you to follow my fingers now. Try to track my fingers with your eyes. Look at my fingers, don't move your head only your eyes. Follow my fingers."

The man moved his two fingers and he focused.

Watching, Riley's fingers as he moved them back and forth, he worked to track them with his eyes.

"Good, now tell me something about the image. Anything. Something that doesn't upset you."

"I hated him."

"Why? Did he hurt you?"

"YES! Damn it. YES."

"He can't hurt you here. Listen to me. Tell me what he did to you."

"I can't." Breathing became harder for him.

"Okay, don't tell me. Just follow my fingers. Only my fingers."

"I . . ."

"Listen to my voice. You're not there. You're in my office. Now, I want you to track my fingers. Pretend it's a movie. Is it cold?"

"Yes."

"Are you hurt?"

"YES. STOP, I can't do this."

"Yes you can. Just, try to stay here, Oliver. No flashing. Stay here. Feel the chair."

"I don't know if I can."

"Yes, you can. That's it. Breath slower. You're safe."

"I'm not. He's here. He's . . ."

The sharp blade flickered bloody red in his mind.

The razor sharp blade moved. The devil slowly took the stitches out of his angry wound.

"He's what? Hurting you? Are you hurt?"

"Yes." He panted.

"Bleeding? Are you bleeding?"

"Yes, wait, no more. I. . . can't . . . talk about this. I just can't."

"Yes YOU CAN. Tell me something about the place you're in. Are you tied up? Tell me. Rope? Hand cuffs? Chains?"

"Chains. . . yes, I'm in chains. I can't get away. I'm . . . trapped. STOP. I don't want to talk about it."

His chest tightened, his heart rate spiked, and he shut his eyes, blocking the man's fingers out.

"No, OLIVER, damn it, open your eyes and watch my fingers. Come on. You can process this event. I'm not asking you to talk about it. Just let it run through in your head like a movie. It can't hurt you anymore. I promise you. No pain any longer. But I need you to watch my fingers."

But it was too late.

He was there now.

Hedeon cut him, opening his wound.

Lunging, the man stabbed his sharp knife in his gaping wound and twisted the blade.

He could stop the scream that erupted from his mouth.

Weak, he sagged hard against the chains that bit into his wrists as he hung, helpless.

"Ask me." Hedeon demanded as the sharp knife came again and again.

His heart raced like he had run for miles.

The blood pounded in his ears, in his chest.

"I can't."

"Hold on."

Chest tight, he found breathing getting harder as the memories crashed into his mind.

"I need to stop."

"Just a little longer. Oliver, you're doing really well. Just follow my fingers. That's it. Good. Now I want you to take a step back from the event. Try to watch the incident like it's a movie. It cannot hurt you. I promise you that it can't hurt you."

But, he had problems tracing Riley's fingers. His hands gripped the chair's arm rest, desperately, cramping his fingers as he tried to find now.

The room faded away.

His mind wanted to go there, wanted to go back to that terrible place.

"Stay with me. Don't flash."

"Wait, I smell blood. I have to STOP."

"Eyes open, Oliver." Riley's voice said sharply. "Listen to me. You're in my office and you're okay, safe. Don't shut your eyes. NO, you don't get to flash."

"I can't."

"Yes, you can. Stay with me, just keep following my fingers. Track my fingers."

Forcing himself to think of the man's fingers as a target, he managed to track Riley's fingers.

"Good, now, I want you to visualize that you're boxing up that memory and storing it away in a lock box. Lock it away."

"It's not that easy."

"I know that but try. Think of a box. Put the memory in a box and shut the lid. Put it away."

But he was in chains again, bleeding, hurting, and embracing the pain. The dark rage and the cage were coming. He knew what was going to happen next, what always happened next.

"I have to stop." He trembled now, heart racing, instantly hyper aware of every breath that came in and out of his lungs.

Mike would be stitching his chest soon, and he'd be back in the damn cage.

"It won't. I'm not doing this. I have to STOP."

"Yes, you can." Riley snapped his fingers, "Here Oliver, stay here. Watch my fingers. Check your breathing. You're breathing too rapidly. Think about your happy place, I want you to step away from the memory."

He shut his eyes, grounded himself, needing to find Felicity and the sunset.

His hand reached for his chest, expecting liquid pain, expecting blood, his blood.

"What do you see? Tell me what do you see?" Riley urged him.

"My blood. Stop. Just stop." His breathing became ragged.

"Watch my fingers, tell me what you see."

"Blood. I see blood."

"Yours?"

The blood pounding in his ears as he gasped the word, "YES. No more. Stop. I have to stop. I can't do this."

"Oliver, I want you to breathe in through your nose and out through your nose, think only about your breathing. Focus now. Look around, see the room, feel the chair you are sitting in. Try to keep watching my fingers. Good, Oliver. I'm going to stop now. Just keep breathing in and out. Okay, now rate your anxiety level between one and ten."

He breathed in and out a couple more times, as he realized his panic wasn't off the charts. No, it wasn't too bad at all. "Four," he finally said in amazement.

"That is awesome, Oliver. Good job. And if you are only a four, you've done really well."

"I feel strange."

"That's normal. Your brain's trying to process what someone did to you. Just let it happen. Now do you want to try again?"

"Okay."

"Then I'll see you," he flipped open his laptop and said, "in two days, same time."

"Okay."

"And, Oliver, maybe you shouldn't sleep with Felicity."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that it might not be safe for her."

"I'd never hurt her on purpose."

Memories of the night he tossed her out of their bed came to mind and his gut tightened.

"You're not stupid. You're aware you have issues, Oliver, and I would hate for anything to happen to her. You could hurt her and not mean to."

"You have issues, too, Riley. Do you sleep with Anna?"

The man grinned. "Okay, I'm going to call that check. I'll see you in a couple of days. My receptionist will make you an appointment. Oh, and Oliver, I'm looking forward to your team's first soccer game next week."

Standing, he said harshly, "Great, you and about half of the town."

"I sense some resentment in your tone."

"Yeah, I've got some resentment. A lot of people are expecting this soccer team to do well, and I'm thinking they're going to be majorly disappointed."

"You expect too much from yourself. But, honestly, if you have a problem with the team that you'd like to talk about, I willing to listen."

Frowning, he thought about it then shrugged. "What the heck. You want to know the truth, I'll tell you. Felicity thinks I am not making practice fun and the kids are not having a good time and still not functioning as a unit."

"Tell me about practice."

"Okay." And he did. He talked about stretching, running and chasing the ball. He told the man about forcing them to play and how they had pulled together to find the three lost teens, but they were still not working together to be a team.

Riley listened and nodded then reaching he closed his laptop's lid. "Teens get bored quickly and you do need to make the game fun, so Felicity has a valid point."

"I've told her that and what's worse is they still haven't learned how to play together as a team. Not to mention that I still need a goalie. And with the first game of the season being next week, I don't think it's going to be pretty. No, I think they are going to lose and badly." He rubbed the back of his neck and sighed.

"Winning isn't all it's cracked up to be. And you and I both know you don't always win in real life. So you just teach them to try their best and what happens is life, real life. But as to making practice more fun have you ever thought about having them play dodge ball?"

"Dodge ball?"

"Yeah, I always loved it as a kid and just think the last kid standing could be the best goalie. And then remember the way to a teenager's heart is through his stomach. How about you try dodge ball tomorrow, and I'll drop by with a bunch of pizza and some soda?"

"Riley, as much as I hate to admit it, you might be on to something." His mind turned the possibilities over and over as he mentioned a time.

The man grinned broadly. "See you tomorrow at practice. I'll bring the pizza and drinks and then I'll see you in two days in the office ready to work."

He nodded then he walked out the door, making his next appointment with the receptionist, while thinking about how practice would be different tomorrow, and he smiled as he reached for his phone and texted Felicity to see what she thought.

Seconds later his phone dinged and her picture lit his screen, he truly grinned as he headed toward the bike thinking that he kind of loved normal life even if it was hard.

But what about life wasn't hard?

His thumbs moved to text her back and one thing he knew for sure, was his life with her was better than life had ever been without her and that made everything better no matter what.

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Thanks for the read.