Felicity could sense Oliver's presence before she actually saw him, the quiet squeak of his feet on the tiled hospital floor reaching her ears as she tiredly leaned against the nurses' station table, trying to rid of a sudden throbbing pain at the back of her head. The mere thought of seeing him made the hairs on the back of her neck stand up, in unease, and when his familiar frame came into view around the corner, she rose to greet him.
She hadn't seen him for a week. A week in which she'd wondered, probably too many times, how he was. What he was doing. How he was coping. If she should try to see him. If she could see him.
According to his sister, he'd left the city. Without a word of where he was going.
But now he was back, as if nothing had happened, wheeling a patient's wheelchair, looking her way and nodding towards her.
He looked broken and that not only made Felicity's heart bleed but her stomach clench as well.
"Hi Felicity."
He looked so sad.
"Hi," she replied, the tiny word was almost too heavy, but even then she passed him a smile, trying to hold back the storm of anxiety that was radiating through her skin. "How've you been?"
"I've been better," he said, pausing in his tracks to let a male nurse take charge of his patient. "Beautiful day to save lives, eh?" He shot her a smile. "Thought I'd take Mrs. Harper here for a stroll around the hospital," he gestured to the elderly woman in the wheelchair.
"You're a total sweetheart, Oliver Queen," called out Mrs. Harper, beaming positively as she waved at him.
Felicity said nothing, suddenly noticing the very visible dark circles under his eyes.
"Oliver...," she began.
The briefest flicker of misery meshed with insurmountable pain passed behind his usually vibrant eyes and his smile faltered lightly, but then it was back, plastered across his face as if it had never left.
"Well, I've gotta leave," he said, squaring his shoulders. "I've got surgery in an hour." He snuck a peek at his watch.
"Oliver," said Felicity once more. "If you need to talk, I-"
"I'm fine," he replied. "Absolutely fine. See you around, Felicity..."
He walked away, a smile firmly intact as he headed down the hallway.
*o*o*
He avoided her for another three days.
She hated it.
Although, she was at a complete loss as to how she should speak to him; how to act in such a situation, she still wanted to see him. To be there for him.
He may not have had the chance to know his son but he'd still seen the infant's still, pale body.
She couldn't get the image out of her head.
Neither could he.
Arms folded across her chest, she watched him from the OR gallery- saving a three year old girl's life. Doing what couldn't have been done for his son. Playing god.
Her mind went back to the day she first met him and Laurel, at Starling City Hospital's black-tie mixer. They'd talked that night. About their residencies. Hers in gynae. His in paeds.
Laurel had smiled, shaking her head, leaving them to their conversation while she sipped a glass of bubbly.
Oliver and Felicity: they'd quickly become friends, while working on a case involving a pregnant woman and her unborn twin babies.
He brought her coffee.
She treated him to freshly baked blueberry muffins every week.
They had lunch together everyday (if their job permitted them).
A routine formed. A friendship bloomed.
Then there was drama with Laurel's startling declaration of her pregnancy.
*o*o*
"Laurel, you aren't okay," shouted Quentin Lance , facing his oldest daughter as she swung back and forth on the swings in their backyard.
"I'm not," she shook her head dryly.
"You need help."
"I don't deserve it, Daddy," she mumbled, clutching a light blue baby blanket close to her heart. "I did this."
"You can't blame yourself, baby girl," he said.
It was an accident.
"Just leave me ALONE."
"I can't. You need help. You need to heal. You can't allow yourself to deteriorate over this. I'm not going to allow-"
Laurel thought about it for a second before answering. "Actually, yes," she screamed, as the swing came to a halt with a screech. "You're going to leave me alone. I don't care. About myself. Or you. Or anyone else for that matter-"
"What about Oliver?"
A tear streaked her cheek. "He hates me," she choked out. "He was so excited and I ruined everything, like I do everytime. This one's on me."
"Oh Laurel, he loves you-"
"You know he doesn't," she shook her head. "He never did. He only stayed because I was pregnant. He only stayed because of To-Tommy. If it weren't for..." Her voice trailed off. "He would've left. Gone to her. To Felicity."
Quentin remained quiet for a few seconds, looking at her carefully before saying, "He cares about you," he said, not denying the truth.
He knew as well as anyone else. He'd hoped otherwise. For his daughter and grandson.
But no.
It wasn't meant to be... not when the young doctor's heart yearned for a woman other than Laurel.
Oliver Queen was in love with Felicity Smoak.
*o*o*
"Well, it happened a long time ago," said the teenager, her face contorting in fear.
"How long?" asked Felicity, sympathetically placing a hand on the young girl's shoulder.
"A month or so," replied the seventeen year old -Sin was her name.
"Okay," said Felicity, "And why do you think you're pregnant?"
"I'm late," replied Sin in horror. "I took a test. Peed on it. It was positive. I'm sure."
"What do you want to do?"
"My mom's going to kill me."
Felicity didn't have an answer for that. Instead, she sat next to Sin, placing one arm on hers. "Are you going to keep the baby?" she asked. "The lab results will be back in a while and we'll have some confirmation. Till then, let's discuss your options."
"Um... I don't know."
"Well, you should think about it," said Felicity.
"I can't!" burst out the teen. "This wasn't supposed to happen. Oh God, I don't even have a boyfriend. This guy... he'd broken up with his girlfriend. Was looking for some fun. We met at a party." Her body shook lightly. "He's back together with her."
"Oh Sin.." Felicity wondered why the world worked that way. Here was this teenage girl, not wanting to be a parent and yet, would be having a baby. Why couldn't Oliver and Laurel have had that? Why did fate have to snatch away their dreams.
Trample on their happiness.
*o*o*
It had been a long night and she was exhausted to her core. Crawling into the nearest on-call room, she'd instantly shut her eyes to get some sleep and just as she'd fallen asleep, her unconscious brain heard something ensuing outside.
It was someone yelling.
"Goddammit, John, why would you do this?" It was Oliver towering over one of his interns.
John Diggle's eyes were round with fear. "Sir-" he began, only to be cut off by his furious resident.
"This is fucking ridiculous! Your idiocy killed my patient," thundered Oliver, his face darkening by the minute. "A little kid's life was entrusted to you and you-"
"Oliver!" hissed Felicity, rushing over to him, beckoning John to leave. "I need to talk to you!"
Her stomach tightened as she walked him back to the her she'd previously departed.
"He fucked up," were the first words that escaped his lips once it was only him and Felicity. "He fucked up, Felicity."
"He's learning."
"I was supposed to stop-"
"You weren't supposed to do anything!" said Felicity, equally furious. "You can't save everyone, Oliver. You can't... You can't stop shit from happening. Do you really think John's the reason why-"
"It was Barry," said Oliver in frustration, watching as Felicity's jaw dropped. "He's dead."
Barry Allen was ten, a Leukaemia patient, zero chances of survival.
Felicity knew the case just as well as Oliver.
The kid had had to die eventually. There was nothing that could've saved him.
Oliver knew that.
And that was when she knew what everything was all about.
It went back to Tommy.
Not his son.
But his best friend: Tommy Merlyn.
The wounds of his son's untimely death had yet to leave him when he lost his patient- and that too a patient that reminded him of the dear friend he'd lost to cancer when they were a few months short of eighteen.
Hadn't that been the reason Oliver had chosen to pursue medicine?
To honour his friend's memory?
To save others from the same fate?
No wonder he was miserable.
Beyond the realms of ordinary miserable.
Felicity just wished she could do something about it. Her lower lip trembled as she watched him stalk out, slamming the door behind him.
That was when she let her tears flow. They weren't supposed to get attached but how could they not? How could they not?
*o*o*
"Ollie, where's my file?" questioned Laurel.
"On your desk," came Oliver's reply.
"Which desk?"
"The one in your office, Laurel."
"Where in my office?"
Oliver made a face and raised an eyebrow at Felicity (who was silently snickering into her hand) "Is she kidding me with this?"
Felicity let out a laugh as she followed him into the dining room.
"Don't worry," called out Laurel. "Found it."
"Great," muttered Oliver, under his breath, voice dripping with sarcasm. "For a moment there I was worried that you'd lost the damn thing."
Laurel appeared in the doorway and scowled at him, while clutching at her six month pregnant belly. "It actually was hard to see," she said, following the two out the door. "It was underneath that giant monstrousity of a teddy bear you bought for the baby."
"At least you found it," was all Oliver offered as he led her and Felicity to his car, starting the ignition and about to back down the drive way when Laurel let out a small shriek.
"What?!" said Oliver, frantically. "What's wrong?"
"I left the file!"
"You just had it!" gritted Oliver, not bothering to wait for a response as he headed back into the Lances' house.
"He's such an ass," mumbled Laurel.
"Laurel," started Felicity. "Cut him some slack, will you? He's going through a lot."
"So am I."
"This is Oliver we're talking about. He takes time. The baby'll be here before you know it and he's on the edge. Scared. Panicked. Just..please cut him some slack."
Laurel chose not to reply, knowing exactly what had her baby's father on the edge and it had nothing (much) to do with the impending arrival of the baby.
It had to do with the blonde sitting in the back-seat and the feelings that Oliver was feeling for her.
She wasn't oblivious. After all, she had graduated from law school.
*o*o*
The coffee machine let out a beep and Felicity rushed over to fill her cup with steaming hot liquid. She missed those days when Oliver brought her coffee.
The hospital's caffeine lacked a lot (especially in the taste department) but Felicity didn't only crave a good caffeine fix ... she wanted her friend too. Her friend, who she now barely saw, even though they worked in the same hospital, for crying out loud. The same friend who was throwing himself into work, trying to make amends for the burdens he'd latched onto his shoulder.
Saving lives was his way of reminding himself that he'd hadn't failed himself.
Or the other two people he'd lost.
To Felicity, it seemed as if he was losing a hold of himself in the same process.
He just wasn't her Oliver any more.
He'd changed.
Way too much.
And it affected her more than she thought it would.
*o*o*
The first morning Oliver had stopped by Felicity's new house after she'd moved into a different neighbourhood, was with an envelope containing pictures of Laurel's latest sonogram.
They'd just found out it was a boy.
"Congratulations!" she'd enthused, enveloping him into an embrace. "I'm so happy for you." She smiled at the scans. "And Laurel too."
"Thanks," he replied, casually placing the envelope onto her kitchen counter.
"What's with that face?"
"What face?"
"That vacant, expressionless face?"
"Smoak."
"Queen." Felicity placed her hands on her hips. "You don't look to excited."
"I am excited," he said, dropping into a chair, "about the baby, that is. As for his mother..." He swiped a finger across his neck. "She's being a nasty bitch."
"How so?"
"She's in the middle of an anxiety attack about where she's going to put everything in the nursery. I don't think she realizes that if she puts some things into a cupboard and doesn't like it later on, she can actually move them," he said. "She's trying to get everything perfect the first time around. Oh and she thinks I'm going to be a bad father."
Felicity snorted. "It's not like she's going to get the 'Mother of the Year' award anyway."
"Unfortunately, neither am I."
"Come on, even I know better," she said. "You're going to be a kick ass parent, Dr. Queen. Unlike Miss Lance, who might I add, hasn't ever experienced working with children, you work with everyday. They love you just as much as you adore them."
"Can you tell her that?" he groaned. "She's... being difficult as fuck."
"Sure, no problem," she replied, fixing her glasses. "I'll head over soon."
"I need to get to work," he said suddenly, looking down at her.
"Eh, have a nice day. It's my day off."
"I know. That was I why I'm here."
"Uh huh."
"I've got an idea," he announced.
"Don't you always?"
"I'm gonna go for rounds. Then I'm gonna ditch."
"You're gonna ditch?" Felicity arched a brow at him. "What happened to being a responsible adult?"
"Oh, I don't know," he said. "Dr. Steele can cover for me. He owes me." He tapped his head thoughtfully. "Wanna spend the day with me?"
"No."
"Felicity!"
"Goodbye, Oliver!"
"You have fun now," she said, swatting his shoulder, "and trust me, ditching work won't make Laurel think any better of you."
"Who cares about her?"
"You do," said Felicity, pointing towards the door.
He pouted.
"That's right, mister," she continued. "You have work. While I have a book to read."
*o*o*
Felicity couldn't sleep. Anxiety bubbled inside her until the bitter taste of acid crawled up her dry throat. The situation with Oliver was becoming more difficult every damn day.
He worked.
He operated.
Tackled paperwork.
Barely ate.
Looked exhausted.
Put in way too many hours than he normally would.
Guilt rose through Felicity as she wondered why he was ignoring her. They were friends. He was the first friend she'd ever made in Starling and she cared. She cared way too much.
Guilt was a bitch.
What was the worst that could possibly happen?
She sighed and pulled up her blanket. She needed to help him. To fix him. To bring him back. To make sure he was okay. She couldn't let him continue on his current path of self destruction. She couldn't. Wouldn't.
It was time for intervention.
She would fix him. She had to.
*o*o*
Oliver looked at Felicity across the corridor, his eyes holding hers. Then he walked, coming over towards her only for him to stop two inches in front of her. "Happy birthday," he said quietly.
"You remembered," she said, surprised that he was aware of what date it was.
He smiled a true smile- one that clearly wasn't forced. "How could I forget?" the words rolled off his lips
"Oliver... "
"I know," he said, an unspoken apology passing from him to her. "You want to go? To Verdant?"
"Yes," she nodded. "It's tradition. They're the best dessert shop in the whole city. We always get my birthday cupcake from there. I love their cupcakes."
"I know."
"Okay."
The car ride was short, quiet and filled with tension.
*o*o*
They choose two baked goods at Verdant, had them packed and drove back to Felicity's house. He followed her as she walked inside but stopped mid-way as a picture of him, Laurel and Felicity came into view.
"Want a beer?" she asked, placing the bag on the top of her marble counter.
He shook his head.
"No?"
"I don't want anything, Felicity."
She stood before him, lightly touching the base of his hand. In a flash of a second, he threw his arms around her, his head heavy on her shoulder. "He could've survived," he finally breathed out. "She was 33 weeks along."
"I know," she murmured against his neck.
"I wanted a chance to be his father."
"I know, Oliver. I know."
She softly stroked his back as she held to him tightly, just wanting to be there for him.
He ended up staying the night, after lighting a singular candle on Felicity's cake, and prodding her to make a wish.
He held onto her tightly. Like a lifeline. Only to covertly leave the following morning, with her sleeping form on her couch, curled up into a small ball.
He had lives to save.
A purpose to serve.
*o*o*
She extracted the warm tray of muffins out of the oven and inserted a toothpick in one of them. They smelled heavenly. Looked perfect.
She hoped he'd appreciate them like he used a few into a brown bag, she grabbed her keys and dashed out through the needed to go to work and wanted to see him before she checked up on patients. The very thought of being in close proximity of him caused her heart to beat faster than average.
She needed to know he was okay.
She paused in her tracks when she caught sight of him.
Her heart froze.
Laurel stood there right next to him and from where Felicity was, it seemed as though they were occupied in a heated discussion.
From the look on the brunette's face and the way she was pleading to Oliver, it was apparent that she was losing it.
Felicity couldn't just stand by and watch it happen. Or could she? Did they need a confrontation? Would it bring them closure? Would they be able to mourn Tommy in peace afterwards?
Did they need this?
Felicity watched Oliver's expression soften as he wiped away a tear from Laurel's face. She couldn't stand there any longer. Darting into the nearest ladies' room, she splashed a few rounds of icy cold water on her face, only to look up at the mirror.
Her mascara had spread.
The muffins lay forgotten in her purse.
Why did her whole body go through an out of body experience she saw Oliver and Laurel together?
Her head spun.
Closing the door behind her, she left the wash-room and walked up the stairs to the residents' locker room. Her patients could wait.
Another fifteen minutes passed and no one other than Oliver showed up.
"I heard you brought muffins."
He looked at her, as though he was reading into her soul, as though those muffins were more than just muffins.
"Yep," she said, plastering a fake smile on her face. "Just for you."
"What would I do without you?" he shook his head.
She shrugged. She didn't know... but without him, she'd be lost. Broken. So terribly unhappy.
*o*o*
That night, he stayed over with her again, her head pressed against his shoulder as his arms almost automatically wrapped around her. Next thing she knew, his lips descended down to slowly kiss the top of her head and gradually moved to the back of her left ear.
"Oliver... "
He looked up at her in surprise before realizing what he'd been doing. "Felicity," he swallowed, nervousness etched on his face. "I-"
She placed a finger against his mouth, before untangling herself from his grasp. "Good night," she all but whispered, shakily rising from the couch, making a bee line to her room. "See you tomorrow."
"Stop," he called out.
Felicity's hand hung on her door knob. "Huh?" she said dumbly.
His blue orbs were more than slightly red and wet as he strode over to her. Grabbing a hold of her wrists, he instantly pulled her to him. "I've been denying this for too long," he said.
Felicity's eyes widened. "Ol-," she began only to be cut off as he crashed his lips against hers, reducing her senseless. Her body instantly responded to his. Gave in to what he wanted. What she herself craved. In that moment, she knew. She knew everything that everyone had been insinuating was true.
Oliver was just attracted to her as she was to him and that itself was a reason why she couldn't resist.
She touched the broad set of his shoulders and the firm planes of muscles under his button down shirt, feeling shocking jolts of electricity, of attraction and of need.
"I'm sorry," she said, running a hand across his face once they broke contact. "I wish I could-"
Ease his pain.
He didn't hear another word and clasped her hand in his, leading her to her bedroom where they resume what began in the middle of her living room on a random Wednesday night.
A Wednesday night that brings an unexpected shift in their relationship.
Lips crashed together as she pulled him down on her, clutching at his shoulders, to slowly remove his shirt.
It was now or never.
A night well spent.
*o*o*
It felt right.
'We fit together' were the first words that entered Oliver's head as he caught up on his paperwork.
He felt it.
It was different from what he'd had with Laurel.
So different.
Was it because he knew he loved her?
Because he couldn't deny it any longer.
Couldn't deny himself.
Or her, for that matter.
He also couldn't deny that he was broken.
He'd buried his infant son's body.
The child had had Laurel's eyes.
Laurel's beautiful, beautiful, tragic eyes. Was that the moment when he'd let go of all the anger he'd build up? No, he hadn't. Because he couldn't. It stung. It stung holding a beautiful baby in his arms, knowing that he'd never hear his son -his Tommy- call him 'daddy' or that he'd never get to hear his son's peals of laughter.
It was beyond painful.
*o*o*
They fell into another routine. A much more complicated one, at that. Oliver and Felicity depended on each other in ways no one else would be able to fathom. He needed her because he felt broken, betrayed and unhappy. He'd lost an important part of himself the day his best friend took his last breath in this very cursed hospital.
He'd lost yet another portion of his soul when his child's dead body (killed on impact) was brought before him in the morgue.
But this hospital- damned in so many ways- had brought him happiness too.
SC General had brought him Felicity and with her, he found a part of himself that he didn't even know existed.
*o*o*
"She's a mess, son," said Quentin. "A mess."
"With all due respect, sir," began Oliver. "It isn't my place-"
"She was the mother of your child, Queen!" exclaimed the older man. "I know she never made it easy for you. But... but, she's hurting and she needs help and she's pushing me away... Maybe she'd listen to y-"
"To me?" snorted Oliver. "If she'd done that, maybe, just maybe, Tommy wouldn't be dead." With those hateful words being said, he stalked off, to find Felicity.
*o*o*
As doctors, they should have known how to live with tragedy.
But they didn't.
As doctors, they should have known to expect the unexpected.
But they didn't.
There was only so much med school could teach them.
Life had a way of shaking things up every now and then, didn't it?
A month and a half passed since Detective Quentin Lance had shown up at the hospital, all but begging for Oliver's help.
It had been even longer since Oliver and Felicity started spending their nights (and some parts of the day) together.
Tommy's death was no longer mentioned even though it hung in the air- wouldn't disappear away.
Felicity crouched over the toilet, her elbows holding her up for support. She felt hell-ish. Absolutely hell-ish. She didn't need a second guess to know why. She simply knew and she was terrified, laden with guilt.
This was going to send Oliver back into the hole he'd just started to climb out of and it was all her fault. Well, not only hers.
But still...
It was her was the one clammy with sweat, throwing up in the middle of a hospital wash-room stall for the third time that morning. The third time.
She was the one pregnant with Oliver Queen's baby.
His second baby.
And that caused another round of nausea to roll over her in waves. It was too soon for this. Too soon to completely let go of Tommy's memory. Too soon for Oliver to find himself in a situation where he was going to be a father again. Too soon for Felicity because she knew they weren't in the right place yet.
It wasn't like she was his girlfriend or something. Oh, she was something indeed. Someone who loved him. Cherished him, his body and his soul. But to the rest of the world, she was the devoted best friend trying to bring her friend out of his depression.
She felt sickened.
*o*o*
Now it was her turn to avoid him for some time. Upon seeing him at the hospital, she darted in the opposite direction. When he came to close, she made a jog down to hide in the storage closet. When he called, she conveniently shut off her phone.
For his part, he left her on her own. She'd heard the rumours, she was friends with a nurse (Carly was her name) who supplied her with the latest news. On them.
Apparently, people had an inkling of what was going on between them.
Apparently, she was head over heels for him while he was still in love with his ex-girlfriend.
Apparently, that is.
As he put in extra hours at work (took up a few night shifts), she lay awake in bed, pondering over the intricacies of the situation she'd found herself in. He deserved to know and she had to tell him but the real question was of when.
Time wasn't of the essence. It wasn't on her side, was it?
She found herself quite successful in her endeavour of avoiding him until she was startled awake in the middle of the night.
Someone was ruthlessly pounding on her front door. With too much force, which could possibly knock it down.
She rubbed her eyes and jumped out of bed, her phone in her hand, prepared to dial 911 for the police.
"FELICITY!" thundered Oliver's unmistakable tone. "FELICITY."
Her heart fluttered. He was here. At her door. For her.
Which meant only one thing.
He missed her.
Her eyes watered as she made a dash to unlatch the lock and let him in.
He panted unevenly, shut his eyes and dropped his hands on his knees. "Why?" he mustered.
"W-why?" she repeated dumbly.
"Why're you doing this to me?" he grounded out, his expression unfathomable in the darkness of her living room.
Her breath hitched. "Oliver..."
"Just tell me," he said. "Tell me I'm not good enough for you. Tell me to take a hike. Tell me to get the fuck out of your space, Felicity. Say the word, and I'm out. Out of your house and out of your life."
"NO!" her voice cracked.
Oliver tilted his head. "Then what is it?" he said, moving towards her. "I need you, Smoak. Need you so badly that I can't imagine not seeing you smile everyday. I need to hear your voice. See you at work. Kiss your lips. Touch your face. I just... need you. You're more than what you used to mean to me and I-"
"I'm pregnant, Oliver."
Silence ensued.
Oliver's mouth widened.
Felicity clapped a hand onto her lips, internally cursing herself for blurting it out that way. At 3: 03 AM in the morning, when he'd shown up right after a late night shift, still in his scrubs and days worth of stubble apparent on his face.
So much for filtering her thoughts.
So much for finding the right time and right place.
"Felicity..." he said.
Tears flowed down her cheek. "I love you?" she offered," but this..." she gestured to her still flat stomach.
The next few moments were a blur as Oliver headed to her side, kneeling down on his knees, only to lift the top of her shirt to place his warm palm against the mid section.
"Felicity..." he repeated.
She bit her lower lip.
His hand moved around in small circles and her heart constricted in her chest. "I've always loved you."
She knew that too.
"I know," she said finally, running a hand through his hair.
His lips gently pressed against her stomach. "Let me be there for you," he said. "For the kid."
"I want you too, Oliver," murmured Felicity, clinging onto his hand as he rose up to full height.
"We'll be okay," he said, squeezing her hand tightly.
"It's too soon. The timing isn't right."
A choking noise escaped him before he could stop it. "The timing never could've been right," he replied in serious-ness. "Never."
Felicity agreed.
"But... this baby... this baby... she..." said Oliver, his head spinning in circles as he caught up to reality. "Or he, for that matter, won't be a substitute for Tommy."
"I want this with you."
"Me too."
*o*o*
There you go.
That's the end.
I hope you enjoyed.
Do review.
Let me know what you think.