Last time: With a final prayer upon his lips, Ra's let go of Oliver, stepped back and watched the boy's face vanish beneath the surface. It was done! Oliver Queen had lived his last day.

xoxoxo

The monotonous sound of clacking computer-keys filled the Foundry with their echo. Sometimes they would stop for a while, only to begin again even more aggressively.

"Goddamnit!" Felicity yelled in frustration, throwing down her glasses onto the table's surface without care, head falling into her hands and exhaling audibly, as if to calm herself. She couldn't! Damnit! Damnit! Damnit! Why? Why had Oliver gone off halfcocked without a plan to fight stupid Ra's al Duel! Why couldn't he have waited? Of course she knew why! Because he was stupid Oliver-Fucking-Selfsacrificing-Queen. That's why!

Roy, who had been shooting arrows at the far wall, probably for the same reason Felicity was attacking her keyboard like a maniac – to calm herself – looked at the blond IT-genius. Raising one brow quizzically, he waited for her to say something.

Felicity stood and began pacing between the two computer stands, agitatedly sweeping a hand over her hair. "It has been three days already, Roy! Three days! We should have heard something by now! You know that! - I know that!" She nearly yelled at him.

Roy nodded, not knowing what else to do. He knew Felicity was right. They should have heard something by now. And that could only mean one thing. And he did NOT want to believe that!

"Say something, Roy!" Felicity demanded, desperately wanting somebody to tell her, that what she was thinking wasn't true. Oliver was … No! Felicity grit her teeth. She would NOT think that.

"I… I can't," Roy stuttered.

Felicity stared at him, more like stared through him, really.

He let the bow think to his side and made one step in Felicity's direction. His eyes took on a slightly glazed sheen and he tried to swallow that big, fat lump sitting in his throat. It didn't work. "You … - you know he's probably dead, Felicity." There he had said it! - And now he wished he hadn't!

At his words, it seemed like all strength suddenly left Felicity's body and she collapsed into her chair like a doll with its strings cut. Roy's bow clattered to the floor with a dull clang as he ran to her side. "Felicity!"

The blond IT-girl lifted her head, looking at Roy as he knelt down before her, taking her hands into his larger ones, squeezing them gently. There were tears in her eyes, which looked at him imploringly, asking him to take back his words.

Roy shook his head. And that was the moment the first tear fell. Then another. And another. And like a dam had been broken, they now ran down her cheeks in a steady rivulet. „No!" Felicity whimpered; „Please no! Don't say that Roy! Please, don't say that! He can't be dead!"

The young archer did not answer her plea; instead he tugged at Felicity's arms until she let herself fall forward into his embrace, where she buried her face into his shoulder and started to sob in earnest – big, gasping, breath-stealing sobs that shook her small frame as if she was a leave in the wind. Felicity's fingers fisted the shirt on his back, holding on in desperation onto the only thing she could. Roy squeezed her tighter, closing his own eyes as one lone tear ran down his cheek.

They stayed that way, for a while. He did not know how long. It could have been minutes, or hours for all he cared. Felicity's sobs had turned into hiccups a while ago, but she still rested in Roy's arms, head buried into his neck, not wanting to let go.

"I didn't even tell him," she sniffled.

Roy opened his eyes, angling his head slightly so he could look down at the crown of her head. "Tell him what?"

„Before he left, he said he loved me! Roy! He said he loved me, and I didn't say it back", she whimpered, followed by a fresh bout of tears. "I didn't even say it back" she repeated a second time, unbelievingly, the words barely more than a whispered breath and more to herself than to the man in front of her.

Roy sat back and tugged Felicity from his embrace so he could look her into the eyes. "He knew" Roy said in conviction; "Felicity, he knew! You have to believe in that, if not in anything else."

With large, sad eyes she looked at him, then nodded. Sniffling she scrubbed away the lingering tears in her eyes with her hands, before laying down her head once more on Roy's shoulder. She was not yet ready to give up the comfort he offered.

And Roy? He did not say anything, he just held her.

xoxoxo

Everything was dark when Diggle entered the Foundry. No lights burned overhead. Even the computer-monitors had been shut down. Somewhere beneath him a single emergency-light glowed, casting its orange light upon the nearest surfaces, drawing creepy shadows on the walls and the ground.

John froze. Something wasn't right! Someone should be here. Roy and Felicity should be here. He had just left them about two hours ago to make a pharmacy-run for Lyla, who was sitting at home, taking care of a colicky Sara. What could have happened in the span of two fucking hours?

His right hand went behind his back, taking a hold of his Glock-17, not yet drawing the weapon. It was just as a precaution. Eyes scanning the perimeter, John silently crept down the stairs. Damnit, where are they?

"Everything is okay," a low voice suddenly spoke from the darkness beneath the overhanging iron-work somewhere to his right – Roy. Diggle would have jumped, if not for the years of his military-training. Breathing a sigh of relief, he walked down the last step, waiting for Roy to show himself.

The young archer came forward, walking into the circle of light cast by the emergency-light.

"Damnit Roy, you startled me! What the fuck happened here? Why are the lights turned off and the computers shut down? And where's Felicity?" he rapid-fired the questions at the younger man.

Instead of answering, Roy turned his head, glancing over his shoulder into the direction he had come from. Diggle followed his gaze and found her. Felicity was lying on Oliver's bed. Sleeping.

„What happened?" he whispered.

„She cried herself to sleep," Roy answered sighing, not elaborating on his own role in what had happened. "I think it finally caught up to her that Oliver…" Roy swallowed thickly, still finding it hard to say the words, "…that Oliver might be dead."

Diggle sighed whipping a hand across his eyes and mouth. He had known that this would happen; he just wished he had been there when it happened. Well, at least Roy had been and he was glad for that!

Damn you, Oliver! Damn you, for making it hurt so bad!