Okay... so I have no idea how I even feel about this chapter. Originally I hadn't planned to add another chapter but SO MANY people asked me to please continue and I just caved under pressure and kind of realised that I couldn't leave this story where I planned on leaving it. It just wouldn't be FAIR. But the reason I didn't originally plan another chapter is because I wasn't at all confident that I was skilled enough as a writer to do it any kind of justice whatsoever. And believe me when I say that I have cried my eyes out whilst writing this on several occasions because it. just. wasn't. good. enough. I still feel like deleting the entire thing and then deleting myself from the internet. But I won't because despite the turmoil in my head, I did work hard on this. I had to take myself to some dark places that I haven't let myself go in a long time just to be able to get inside Oliver's head and it wouldn't make sense to put myself through that to then just delete the entire thing.
Anyway, this is what I came up with. And if it's not as bad as I think it is... maybe I'll continue it. It has so much potential as a concept, I know that, I just don't feel confident enough in my own writing skills to be able to live up to that potential. I have all the ideas, I just can't seem to write them in the way that I need to.
Basically all I'm trying to say is that this isn't anything compared to the first chapter in my opinion. Or maybe it is and I'm just doing that thing I do all the time where I hate myself too much... blah.
Oh and I also just wanted to thank the person who left me a review on the first chapter explaining the difference between a nurse and a doctor; I'm not a medical professional in any way, shape or form, and I had no idea that the two were so utterly different! I now know that it wouldn't have been a nurse that is so heavily involved with Felicity's care, it would have been a doctor, and I just wanted to apologise for not doing enough research on that before I started!

There was so much more I wanted to include in this beginning note but I'm aware I've rambled on for 2000 characters and I need to just... not.
OKAY... rambling is ending now. Enjoy? Yes, enjoy. I hope you enjoy.

Please feel free to leave me a comment/review; every little helps!

Chapter Two.

"Hey," Oliver whispered, closing the door to Felicity's room softly behind him.

He thought she was asleep but as soon as he spoke her eyes snapped open.

"Oliver, hi," she whispered back, the corners of her mouth turning up a little into a small smile.

Her smile. It felt like a lifetime since he'd seen her smile and the sight made his legs shake and his heart pound in his chest. She was smiling. She was alive.

"Are you alright?" Oliver knew it was a pointless question but he didn't know what else to say. Besides, "I love you," and he wasn't sure she'd appreciate that in her current state. His body threatened a sob at the thought but he swallowed it down fiercely.

"I'm... confused. Very confused. And tired, surprisingly. And apparently my hair hasn't been washed in nearly a week. So add 'gross' to the list of the things I'm feeling in answer to your question," she croaked, and then smiled again, and it was such a Felicity thing to say that Oliver found himself smiling too.

Gross was the furthest from what she looked. She looked breathtaking, simply because she was alive. As long as her eyes blinked and her heart beat, she would never look anything less than beautiful.

"I'm sorry I wasn't here when you woke up," Oliver said, softly.

"Thanks, but I'm glad you weren't. I was... a little hysterical, to say the least. And everything hurt when I tried to move which made me panic even more and- yeah, I'm glad you weren't here to see that," Felicity laughed, her shoulders vibrating, and then looked like she regretted it.

"But you're not in any pain now, right?" he asked, worried.

"Nope. Well, not unless I move. Which is fine with me since moving seems way too exhausting right now anyway. I feel like I might need a nap if I so much as wave at you. You know, I coughed earlier and I am still regretting it. It felt like I had just dislocating every single bone in my body all at the same time," she smiled, but her face contorted at the memory and Oliver winced just thinking about how much pain she'd been in if it wasn't for the strong drugs she was on.

"Your doctor said you were medicated. But you know you need to let him know if you need more medication, okay?"

"Mhmm, I know. My doctor has a very nice smile. He's been very helpful," she giggled.

She sounded the way she did after a few glasses of wine and Oliver smiled again. He suppressed the urge to laugh at just how normal she seemed. Her voice was a little softer than usual and some of her words were slurred due to the pain meds, but other than that, if he closed his eyes, she was just Felicity. No gunshot wounds or memory loss or bruises on her skin. Just Felicity.

He was about to speak when suddenly her soft voice raised and her eyes widened in panic and confusion.

"What happened, Oliver? No one will tell me but I need to know. I can't stand not knowing. I don't like not being able to make sense of things," she said quickly, her body absurdly still compared to her darting eyes and fast moving mouth.

"Hey, hey, it's okay. We don't have to talk about that now. You need to just relax, okay?" Oliver took a step towards her bed, wishing more than anything that he could just pull her into his arms and take her home.

"I have spent the last week relaxing, Oliver. I have done nothing but lie here for six and a half days. And I need someone to tell me why. I don't know what happened, I feel sick thinking about not knowing what happened. I need someone to just be honest with me and from what I can remember, as long as I've known you, you've been able to be honest with me so please, reassure me that hasn't changed and tell me what the hell I'm doing here. Please," she almost yelled; if her voice hadn't been significantly hoarse due to lack of use over the last week Oliver knew she would have woken the patients in the rooms next door.

Her lip trembled and she looked like she was going to cry.

Once again, Oliver didn't know what to say. He looked at her, propped up in bed with considerably less wires attached to her body now but her eyes dark and exhausted even after a week of constant sleep, the cut above her eye stitched and healing but bruised, her skin paler than he'd ever seen, and tried not to cry. Where could he even possibly begin?

"Felicity, it's... complicated," he began.

She sighed. "Look, I'm aware that I just spent the last week of my life asleep but I didn't miraculously lose my brain capacity, you know? I'm sure I can keep up,"

Oliver found himself smiling again. That was his Felicity.

"Okay, I'm going to try and explain this to you as best I can. I know you're confused and a lot of what I'm about to tell you will only make that worse. I'm just warning you,"

"I can handle it," she smiled, an unsure smile but a smile all the same and Oliver knew that she was right.

She could handle it. She could handle anything. She always could.

"There was an accident. You were shot-"

"I guessed that from the bullet sized holes in my ribs and thigh, you didn't have to explain that part," she interrupted.

Smiling sheepishly at him as soon as she spoke, Oliver guessed she hadn't meant to say that out loud. She waved her hand weakly in a gesture for him to continue and closed her eyes.

"If you're tired, I can go," he offered after a few seconds of silence.

Her eyes snapped open again as he spoke and she shook her head furiously, or as furiously as she could for someone who couldn't move very much.

"Don't go!" she said, louder than anything she'd said so far tonight. "I mean... please. I'm okay. It's okay," Her eyes warmed, and her cheeks too, and Oliver knew that he couldn't leave her even if she wanted him to.

He took a seat beside her bed and instinctively reached for her hand. But instead of her fingers curling around his tightly the way he was used to, her hand stayed limp inside his and she smiled uncomfortably and it was only then that he remembered he couldn't just take her hand anymore.

Oliver spluttered an apology and pulled his hand away, feeling a sting as the cool air replaced the warmth of her skin.

"It's okay," she said quietly. "My doctor said that I- that we- that you're... how did that even happen? Because all I can remember is you being with Sara. Who is very pretty. And smart..."

Oliver smiled. "It's a long story but it ends with me realising that I was pretty much in love with you all along. I mean... sorry if that was weird but-"

"It's okay, you're just being honest. I need that,"

Oliver watched her face, watched her searching eyes as they took in the man in front of her. She looked him in the eyes for a long few seconds, like she was trying to remember. Without warning, a tear fell down her cheek. She caught it with her fingertip and wiped it away quickly but Oliver had seen the look in her eyes. She didn't remember.

A sob escaped his throat and he tried to disguise it with a cough as she reached over and took his hand again.

"I'm hurting you, I'm so sorry," she whispered, rubbing her thumb over the back of his hand.

"It's not your fault, it's okay," Oliver wasn't sure whether he was trying to convince her of that, or himself.

He tried to focus on the warmth of her skin against his, the way her thumb traced patterns over his knuckles, something she'd always done to soothe him. The gesture was so like that of the Felicity from before the accident and he wondered if maybe some things were impossible to forget no matter how much trauma a human soul went through, whether the tiny little things she probably didn't even realise were things, could never truly be forgotten. The thought gave him hope, a miniscule amount of hope, but hope all the same.

"I'm sorry, Oliver. I'll remember, I promise I'll remember, eventually. It's just so hard... I feel so helpless," she whispered, her pained voice breaking into his internal monologue, her eyes clouding over with tears again.

"Don't," he whispered back. "Don't apologise. You have nothing to apologise for. None of this is your fault,"

Felicity smiled and squeezed his hand.

"Oliver, I- one of the last things I remember is that you rescued me. There was some crazy psycho about to plunge a needle full of Vertigo into my neck, but he didn't, because you were there. You saved me and I remember just how big of a sacrifice you made in that moment before you did so. I remember that. A lot of what happened after that is blurry, but I remember that you saved my life. And I don't know if I ever thanked you for that but I hope I did. Just in case I didn't though, thank you,"

Oliver remembered too, of course he remembered. How could he forget the first time he ever truly realised just how much Felicity meant to him? If he was honest with himself, he'd been in love with her ever since that day, maybe even before.

"You did thank me," he smiled. "But you're welcome all the same,"

Smiling back, Felicity squeezed his hand again.

"Have you spoken to my mom? Is she okay?" she asked.

"Yeah, she's been staying in town. She's visited you everyday. She doesn't know you're awake yet because it's just so late and I didn't want to wake her. But I'll call her as soon as it's light and she'll be right here,"

Felicity nodded and pulled a face and Oliver could tell she was stifling a yawn.

"You can sleep if you want to," he whispered.

"I don't know how I can be so exhausted after sleeping for a week,"

Oliver chuckled and smiled.

"Promise me you won't go," Felicity said softly. "I mean, you can go if you want to, I'm not forcing you to stay here because I mean, technically I wouldn't even know if you left anyway because I'd be asleep but-"

"I'll be here when you wake up, I'm not going anywhere, I promise you,"

He watched as her body relaxed at his words and she closed her eyes again.

"And you're going to tell me everything when I wake up, right? Don't go thinking that I didn't notice that you never actually even started to answer my question from earlier," Even though her eyes were closed now, she smiled, one of her small and perfect smiles and Oliver felt tears in his eyes.

"I promise I'll try. I want to help you, Felicity, trust me, I do. And whatever you need, I'll- I'll try," He wanted to promise her so much more; he wanted to promise her that no matter what, he'd make her stop hurting, but he couldn't. Because he just didn't know what she needed anymore, she wasn't the same Felicity and it killed him to think like that but it hurt more to act like nothing had changed.

"I'm going to remember, Oliver. I can feel it," she whispered after a minute or so of silence, before her breathing slowed and she fell asleep.

Oliver sat watching her sleep for a long time, the rise and fall of her chest and her soft snores comforting him more than anything ever had. As soon as he was absolutely sure she was sleeping deeply, he leaned over and pressed a kiss to her forehead.

"I love you," he whispered. "I love you so much,"

Felicity hummed in her sleep and Oliver froze. But she didn't make another noise and stayed soundly asleep.

Oliver was soon all too aware of the deafening silence in the room. Minutes ago her voice had filled the silence, her warm and magical voice that could soften all the knots in his stomach instantly, but now she was asleep and the panic struck him that she might not wake up again.

He wanted to wake her, to make her open her eyes every single time she closed them just so he could be sure that she was alive. The feeling of losing her was still all too present in his memory and just because the doctor had said that physically there was no reason she wouldn't make a full recovery, her wounds would heal leaving only scars and there wouldn't be any permanent damage, it wasn't enough to convince him. Oliver knew too much of death, had lost too many people he loved to take for certain that anyone he cared about was safe.

But it wasn't just that Oliver was scared of losing her, it was that he felt like he already had.

He didn't know what was worse; having her never wake up, or having her alive but looking at him like she didn't know him anymore.

Another sob choked him and he tried to stop it in case he woke her, but they kept coming and before too long his face and shirt were soaked with tears.

The last few months had been the happiest of his life, of their life, but she couldn't remember them. She couldn't remember them. Couldn't remember him. At least not the him she lived with, the him that was in love with her, the him she'd said yes to marrying.

All the things she'd promised him, the times she'd told him that she loved him, the times they'd talked about growing old together and teaching their children how to dream and love... she couldn't remember any of that. It wasn't her fault, he knew that, but he hated her in that moment. He hated that she didn't remember the promises they'd made or the things they'd planned to do together.

Anger swept over him all of a sudden but for the first time that week, he was too broken to do anything about it. He had no desire to punch anything, to kill anybody, because the anger was at no one but himself. For being stupid enough to let someone get close to him and think that they wouldn't end up hurt. All he could do was let the anger fill his chest, slowly suffocating him from the inside out until the room was too small and there wasn't enough oxygen anymore. He needed to get out, he knew that, but he couldn't leave Felicity; if he left her, she might be gone by the time he came back.

He took her hand in his again and lifted it up to his face, pressing his lips against her knuckles, and then he pressed the warm skin on the back of her hand against his cheek. Her skin was so soft, it was always so soft, he'd never felt anything softer, and even though his lungs were still somewhat failing to work, already he felt better just being close to her warm, soft skin.

She was the only person that made him feel safe. Nobody, not even his own mother or sister, had ever had that effect on him. Whether he was waking up in the middle of the night from a nightmare or had simply just had a long and exhausting day at work, all it took was to come home to her smile, and the rest of the world practically melted away.

He knew he would be fine eventually if he lost anyone else in his life. But not Felicity. If Oliver lost Felicity, he had nothing left. No one else would ever be able to fill the hole that would be left behind if he lost her. He'd never needed anyone in his whole life before now. But he needed Felicity. He needed her more than he needed air.

Oliver had never been one to let anyone in. He knew too much of disappointment, knew too much of loss to ever let his guard down fully. He'd spent his whole life on the edge of conversation, on the edge of life, never daring to inverse himself too much out of fear he'd never get out again, out of fear he'd start to need anyone but himself. Only needing himself to rely on didn't hurt as much. If he was the only person to blame, the solution was always simple, it was easy.

He was fortunate, or maybe unfortunate, in that the few friends he'd accumulated throughout his life all seemed to be just like him. His friends were the kind of people who liked to party, because when the music was loud and the booze was flowing, the numbness that usually cursed through their veins was dulled somewhat and things began to feel a little bit like living. Drugs and casual sex had the same effect, and to them it just was about looking like you were having an awesome time, and that was all. It didn't matter to them that each and every one of them had a raging storm inside them, a storm that never seemed to subside no matter how much they poisoned their insides with shots of vodka or snorts of cocaine, a storm they were always all too aware of despite their best efforts to forget. Oliver went along with it all, because it was all he'd ever known; life had a habit of just dragging him along.

And then he'd returned from the island and found his father's list and shortly after had had to take that fateful walk on that fateful day to the IT department and all of a sudden, his favourite colour had been red.

Ever since that day, ever since he'd met Felicity, she had slowly and gradually been changing his life.

Oliver closed his eyes, counted to five and then opened them again. She was still lying there, sleeping soundly, her eyelids fluttering slightly as she dreamed, her blonde hair splayed out on the pillow beneath her. Taking a deep breath he closed his eyes again and this time made himself count to ten. He repeated the process until he'd counted to 100, and each time when he opened his eyes, she was still there. His panic began to decrease the longer she remained there, even with his eyes closed and eventually, his heart stopping beating so erratically in his chest.

She was here, now, and he had to focus on that. Somehow he had to start trusting that she wasn't going to disappear if he closed his eyes.