I am SO sorry for the massive delay between updates but the last month has been ridiculously hard on me in regards to this story. I've never been so passionate and emotionally involved in one of my stories before, and so I haven't ever experienced the emotional and physical turmoil that comes with being so invested before now! I have cried waaaaaaaay too many times over this than I even care to admit ever since I last updated and I just hope so much that you enjoy this chapter! The format is a little different just to deal with the passing of time; I was very conscious about this being boring or repetitive so I hope you find that it works! I have one more part planned after this to wrap it all up nicely and this chapter and the last one have a much lighter tone than the other two have. And when I say "lighter tone" I really do mean it. Unlike the writers of Arrow... *coughs*
Anyway, enjoy! :)

Special thanks to Claire ( lemonlime799 on Twitter) for being my absolute saving grace last night when I was extremely close to giving up on this fic completely. She doesn't even watch the show, but yet she let me send her 1000 word texts about Oliver and Felicity until gone midnight UK time and I can't even put into words how grateful I am for that. She's an angel, an actual angel.

Three weeks passed before Felicity was able to come home.

During the first of those three weeks, one of her wounds caught an infection somehow and the raging temperature that followed forced her into recalling a memory with terrifying intensity.

It was the middle of the night and Oliver was watching her sleep, once again scared to go home and leave her now that she was somewhat sick again, wanting to stay by her side in case she needed anything, intermittently mopping her brow with a cool cloth as her temperature soared.

She'd started to whimper softly and he'd squeezed her hand tightly, trying to make his way into her subconscious as she dreamed to remind her that he was there and he wouldn't leave her. Oliver knew all too well about fever induced nightmares, he'd had his fair share over the years, especially since being on the island, and he knew the toll they could take on the mind and body. He wanted nothing more than to wake her but that could often make things worse; jolting someone awake in the middle of a ghastly dream leads to disorientation and the feeling that even being awake again is a threat, and he knew it was best to just let the dream run its course until she woke up on her own.

She was moaning incoherently, her eyelids flickering rapidly, her skin burning hot as he gripped her hand and stroked her arm.

All of a sudden she screamed, her eyes flying open wide with terror, tears falling down her cheeks as she gasped for breath. She was clutching her throat with her hand, her nails digging into her skin and Oliver had to all but pry her hand down before she drew blood.

"Felicity, hey, shsssh, it's okay, you're okay," Oliver whispered, over and over, not once letting go of her hand, tirelessly trying to reassure her.

Felicity shook her head in response and tried to pull her hand from his. Her eyes flew around the room, desperately searching for any signs of danger.

"Hey, look at me, please," Oliver tried again.

She did, but only for a second before she closed her eyes tightly, her eyebrows and forehead creasing.

"Oliver," she whispered, still breathing heavily so his name fell out of her mouth in pants.

"I'm here, it's okay," he whispered back, not knowing what else to say.

All he wanted was to pick her up and pull her into his arms but he knew she wouldn't let him even if he tried.

"I think I- I was- We were-" Felicity was trying to speak but nothing was coming out and Oliver took the opportunity to lean over and cup her cheek with his hand.

She leaned into his touch, something he hadn't expected, her head resting against his palm as she tried to regain control of her breathing. They stayed that way for a long time, or maybe it had only been mere minutes, and Oliver's arm arched from holding her weight so statically but he didn't care; he would stay frozen in that spot for the rest of his life if it meant being to close to her and feeling her warm skin touching his. This was the longest she'd let him touch her for ever since she woke up and there was no way he could ever let go now of his own accord. He'd been holding her hand whilst she slept that week, but as soon as she woke up he'd had to let go, so for her to be staying right where she was in his touch... it felt remarkable.

"I remember what happened to me... what happened to us," was the first thing she said after her breathing returned to normal and it made Oliver's heart skipped a beat.

He made an attempt to soothe her, a soft shsssh began to slip from his lips but she opened her eyes and shook her head again, stopping him.

"I thought I was dreaming but it's too real to be a dream. I can see it in my head now almost exactly as I can see anything else I remember, if that makes sense. We were in a limousine on the way back from... somewhere and we were just talking and then suddenly we were being shot at and our driver, not Diggle like usual, thank god it wasn't Diggle, our driver was killed but you were there, you protected me and then I woke up here and you were gone. But as strange as it sounds, now it's actually real to me, it's not half as scary as it was when I thought it was a dream. Because you never get to the end of a dream, you know? You either wake up in the middle of it or you slip back into a deep sleep and can't remember what happened at all. But my dream ended, because I'm awake and I'm here, and so are you, you weren't gone after all. So it's okay, you know?"

Her voice was just above a whisper, her cheek still resting on his palm, and as she spoke she really did sound peaceful, more peaceful than she'd sounded all week, and Oliver couldn't help but let an inkling of hope inside him swirl up as he thought about what else she could or might remember.

"It's okay," he agreed, whispering softly, not wanting to break into the calm that had somehow settled around them.

He felt Felicity smile into his hand and then almost as suddenly as she'd relaxed into it, she leaned away and back against her pillow.

"I'm sorry, I don't know why I did that," she said quickly, and Oliver could see her cheeks blushing.

His chest clenched at the force of which she'd pulled away but he willed himself to smile at her.

"You don't have to apologise," he hummed in reply.

Felicity closed her eyes again and shifted slightly as she got comfortable, a thoughtful expression on her face. She laid still for a few minutes and Oliver began to think she'd fallen asleep when she muttered,

"I hope I can remember some nice things soon,"

A few days after that her fever dropped and the infection cleared up and she was almost back to her normal self, or the post-accident normal anyway, and upon hearing that she was a lot better, Diggle and Laurel came to visit her. Her face had lit up when she saw them, Diggle especially, and despite doctor's orders, she'd sat up and hugged him tightly as soon as he got close enough. She'd smiled shyly at Laurel, considering that in her memory they weren't exactly the best of friends, just favour friends, she recalled, and Laurel had smiled back, warmly, and explained that the two of them had actually grown closer over the time Felicity had lost to amnesia. Felicity had glanced questioningly at Oliver and he'd smiled too and then Diggle had laughed loudly.

Felicity frowned at him, furrying her brow in confusion.

"I'm sorry for laughing it's just... it's so weird the four of us being here under these circumstances, you know?" he'd said by way of explanation and suddenly it wasn't just Felicity who was frowning, Oliver and Laurel were too.

"Oh come on, it's funny! How many times have we gathered in hospital rooms because one of us has ended up hurt on an Arrow mission? Too many for it not to be sort of hilarious..." Diggle continued, still the only one who was getting the joke.

Felicity's eyes went wide as Diggle finished his sentence but before she could say anything Laurel chuckled and said,

"It's okay, Felicity. I know. And believe it or not, I help you guys now,"

Oliver watched Felicity's face as Laurel spoke and saw her eyes scrunch in confusion before the confusion relented into something darker, something he hadn't seen in her eyes since she woke up from her nightmare a few days ago.

"Laurel, your sister, something happened to her..." Felicity said, quietly, her voice shaking.

Laurel moved to sit down on the edge of Felicity's bed, taking one of her hands in hers.

"Hey, it's okay. Sara's... she's okay. It's a long story, but she's fine now,"

"But she- something happened to her! I remember she- we buried her, Laurel, I remember that! How can she be fine?" Felicity was growing more hysterical by the second and Oliver ached to be the one holding her hand.

He watched as Laurel squeezed her hand and brushed her thumb over her knuckle.

"Felicity, I promise you, she's okay. I don't know how to explain to you how she's okay, but I promise that she is, okay?"

"So she's not dead?" Felicity asked, and then she blushed and said, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean for that to come out like that, I just mean-"

"It's okay," Laurel smiled. "And no, she's not dead,"

Felicity leaned back against her pillow and closed her eyes for awhile. Oliver watched her as she breathed, a controlled pace of breath, the way she breathed when she was moments from letting her anxiety run away with her. As he watched her his chest grew heavy with the weight of wondering what this was all doing to her inside. Felicity was strong, there was no doubt about that, but this was hurting her and messing her up, Oliver knew that, and yet he was powerless to do anything about it.

"When were you going to tell me any of this?" she snapped suddenly, glaring at him.

"I wasn't going to, I was waiting for you to remember on your own. I didn't want to hurt you if I could help it," he replied, his eyes softening as she continued to glare at him.

"Anyone else I should know about? Has anyone else died and then come back to life or joined Team Arrow without me knowing?" she snapped, and Diggle laughed again, "I can't believe you still call us that," before Felicity turned to Laurel and said, "No offence, welcome to the team by the way," with a smile.

"Um, just Thea. She works with us too," Oliver stuttered, choosing to leave out the part about Thea also being brought back from the dead; he didn't want to be responsible for another of Felicity's anxiety attacks; the ones triggered whenever the world as she thought she knew it really didn't make any kind of sense anymore.

"Wait, you're telling me that you willingly let your sister put herself in danger just to help us? Oliver, what are you thinking?!"

"Felicity, it's co-"

"Don't you dare tell me something is complicated again, Oliver. I already told you, I just slept for a week, I didn't become inherently stupid all of a sudden," Felicity snapped, and Diggle grinned, a proud sort of grin as she spoke.

"Thea is- She's well trained." Oliver continued after shooting Diggle an exasperated frown. "She can look after herself, Malcolm Merlyn makes sure of that,"

Diggle laughed loudly again and Felicity snapped her head in his direction.

"What could possibly be funny about that?" she demanded.

"Oh, just that Merlyn and his little team of league minions also help us out from time to time, that's all," he chuckled.

"Dig, don't," Oliver said, quietly but firmly.

"What? If you weren't going to tell her, someone has to," he shrugged.

Oliver pouted at Diggle and crossed his arms over his chest before turning back to Felicity.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you, but Diggle's right,"

Sighing, Felicity leaned back and rubbed her temples. Oliver couldn't help but watch for her reaction and Diggle and Laurel were looking at her cautiously too.

Without even looking up, Felicity said dryly, "Can you guys please stop looking at me like I'm going to lose it any second and combust in front of your eyes? Because believe it or not, this isn't the biggest shock I've had over the last week or two. I'm fine,"

As she spoke, she glanced over at Oliver and met his eyes, the two of them sharing something profound even without words and it sent that tornado of hope spinning in his stomach again. Every time she looked him in the eyes, it was like she was remembering something. Nothing she could put words to, but something all the same. Oliver smiled, and she smiled back before Diggle cleared his throat.

"I can't believe after three years of the Oliver and Felicity show, you two finally get your shit together only for one of you to get memory loss..." he muttered to himself.

This time it was Felicity who laughed, and Oliver expected her to blush, but she didn't. She just laughed, the longest bout of laughter she'd had since she woke up from her coma, and before too long, they were all laughing with her, her infectious energy sucking them in as it always used to until their eyes were wet with laughter.

"I missed you, John," Felicity said once she'd composed herself again, her eyes warming as they met his.

"It's so good to have you back, Felicity," he smiled.

A little over a week after that, Oliver was back at the loft. It was one of those rare afternoons where he wasn't at the hospital; Donna was there with Felicity when he left so he knew she was in safe hands. That afternoon Felicity had had physical therapy in preparation for her coming home at the weekend. She'd barely been able to leave her bed ever since the accident so to know that her wounds were finally healed enough for her to begin moving and walking again, albeit shakily and on crutches with a wheelchair close by in case she needed it, filled Oliver with hope that everything might actually be okay again one day.

In terms of her memory, Felicity hadn't been able to recall much more since the day Laurel and Diggle visited, nothing hugely significant anyway, just a few small things that had made Oliver smile.

Just the night before, she'd called him sometime after 2am to ask why she ever ended up working at Tech Village, more specifically she'd asked, "Why did any of you let me take a job where part of the uniform was those ridiculously hideous pants?" and Oliver had laughed for a long time after they'd hung up the phone. A day or two before that Oliver had been with her at the hospital and she'd been quietly reading her book before she put it down and asked him if he was still watering the fern she'd bought him for the Arrow cave, and then if he'd actually bought himself a place or was he still living on a cot down there. Oliver had smiled and told her something had happened to the fern, but he'd quickly replaced it with a new one which was doing well, and also that he had moved out and got a new place, and he shared that new place with her. She was silent for awhile after that and then she'd smiled and said that she couldn't wait to see his place when she got out of hospital. Oliver had gone on to tell her then that they had a new place to work now too, a bigger place with fancier equipment, particularly the newer computers with brand new software that worked in the blink of an eye (when they weren't overloading and crashing, that is) and Felicity had lost herself in asking questions about it all, her eyes shining with excitement when she realised out loud that she could see everything in just a few short days when she was well enough to go home. He'd asked her if she remembered anything more about the two of them and their relationship and she'd shook her head, sighing. She told him that there was nothing she wanted to remember more, because she could see the way he was hurting knowing that they weren't on the same page anymore, but she had said that she could feel things changing between them in a way she thought signified that she would remember very soon just how much they meant to each other.

She was right, it did hurt that she hadn't yet remembered, especially since she seemed to remember so many little and meaningless things, but at the same time, things were easier between them the more time went by. He found he was able to talk more about their relationship without causing her too much guilt or embarrassment; she definitely blushed less on the occasions where Oliver forgot himself and accidentally shared too much too casually about his feelings for her. She didn't flinch if he took her hand anymore, in fact, she had started to reach for his first sometimes, usually when she was falling asleep at night, and she'd even kissed his cheek a few days ago before he went home, smiling at him so openly and warmly and lovingly that Oliver had sat in his car and cried for a long few minutes before he drove away. He began to remember just how good it had been to have Felicity in his life as his friend, his best friend and nothing more, and while the ache never went away while ever she couldn't remember how in love they were, being her friend made him realise that even if she didn't remember them again, he'd be okay.

He hated too that there were so many things that had happened in those two years she'd lost to amnesia; any normal sufferer wouldn't have quite so much recall to do and of course, he blamed himself for that and he always would. He would always remember all the times Felicity had been hurt or had been in danger, or all the times he'd almost died and she'd had to witness it, and part of him hoped she'd never fully remember all of those things. Every time she fell asleep he prayed to a god he didn't even believe in that her dreams would be sweet and she wouldn't wake in a cold sweat after remembering something painful or terrifying. He knew Felicity didn't regret the life she'd chosen with him, she'd told him that herself a handful of times, but he couldn't help wishing she could have had a "normal" life, something that wouldn't be quite so distressing whenever a memory came back.

Oliver's phone ringing on the coffee table startled him out of his internal monologue and he answered without checking who was calling.

"Oliver, hi, it's Donna,"

Upon hearing the warm voice of Felicity's mother, Oliver smiled and then panicked instinctively.

"Is Felicity okay?" he asked, quickly.

"Yes, of course, she's fine. She's taking a nap right now and I wanted to just call and ask you something whilst she's asleep,"

Relaxing again, Oliver leaned back on the couch, tucking his legs up underneath him.

"Sure, what's up?"

"Felicity and I were just talking, about you in fact and she- I think she remembers her first date with you, she just hasn't realised it's a memory yet, I don't think," Oliver could tell Donna was smiling, he could hear it in her voice and it made him smile too.

"What makes you say that?" he asked, curious, that windstorm of hope once again twirling in his stomach.

"Well, she told me she had a dream about you, about the two of you going out for dinner, and in the dream she said she was wearing a red dress that got completely ruined by the end of the night because of a terrorist attack on the restaurant. Now, I'm not sure if it's all a memory or whether some parts of it are mixed up with her dreams, but the way she was talking about your dinner, the way she could describe exactly what she was wearing and exactly what you talked about, it felt real to me. And I just wondered if you could shed any light on this, I mean, am I jumping to conclusions or is she remembering something?"

Oliver couldn't respond right away, his mind was playing over their date on repeat, snippets of their conversation flickering through his brain like a black and white movie on an old projector, the only colour he could see was the deep red of her dress and the bright blue of her eyes that night, the glisten in them from the 3 benzos she'd taken before she left to keep her nerves at bay, the smile on her face when he'd told her that he could remember the colour of the pen she was chewing on when he walked into her office the first day they met.

"Um, I think she might actually be remembering something. Not sure about the terrorist thing though," Oliver chuckled, there was no way he could get into that without accidentally saying too much and it was so much easier to pretend that she had just gotten confused instead.

"I knew it!" Donna yelled, and Oliver smiled again.

He couldn't think of anyone who was happier when he'd asked Felicity to marry him than Donna was. Even over the thumping of his heart in his chest making his ears ring and the applause from the crowd, he'd heard Donna cheering and squealing louder than anyone. In fact, part of him still thought she was happier about it than Felicity was, he chuckled to himself.

"Did she say anything else?" he asked, still smiling.

"Only that under no circumstances was I to mention this to you... oops!" she laughed, and Oliver joined in laughing too.

"Well, I won't say anything to her unless she brings it up, so don't worry," he replied, allowing the windstorm of hope to turn into a full sized hurricane in his stomach.

The Saturday that followed was the day Felicity was able to come home.

Oliver had arrived at the hospital that morning and was met as soon as he entered her room with a smile brighter than he'd seen in weeks.

"My doctor just stopped by and he said I can go home this afternoon!" she beamed, fidgeting with excitement.

"Hey, that's amazing, I'm so glad," he smiled back, leaning over to give her a hug, since hugs were officially allowed again now her stitches were out.

"I am so ready to get out of here," she said as she hugged him back, her breath warm on his neck.

He felt her kiss his cheek a second or two later and his stomach flipped. She pulled away from their hug but took hold of his hands, keeping him close to her and then she looked into his eyes, smiling.

"I remembered our first date," she grinned, her eyes bright.

Oliver chuckled. "I know, your mom told me,"

Blushing she dropped his hands and pressed her face into her palms.

"I told her not to tell you!" she muttered into her hands.

"She was excited," he laughed, sitting down in the chair next to her bed.

There was a brief and comfortable silence as Felicity composed herself. Oliver watched her, he could watch her forever, and let his mind drift over just how far she'd come the last three weeks.

She looked so... healthy. Her skin glowed and her eyes were no longer framed by dark circles and she was even wearing makeup today, he noticed, something she hadn't bothered to do at all since she woke up that first time. She was dressed, in a tank top and gym leggings, but she looked beautiful all the same; only a few remaining bruises on her uncovered arms, yellowish and fading, were any sign that the accident had happened at all. He knew the gunshot wounds under her clothes were still healing and covered with dressings, but besides that and the bruises, she looked just like herself, and Oliver couldn't quite let himself believe that she was real. Because it felt too much, her strength and determination to get better and go home felt too much, no human should be capable of healing physically, and somewhat mentally and emotionally, in the way she had, and it took his breath away. She took his breath away.

"I want to come back with you, to your pl- to our place," she said suddenly, looking up and meeting Oliver's eyes again.

"Are you sure? You don't have to. You can stay with your mom, you know,"

"Oliver, I'm sure. I want to go home, with you," she smiled and the gleam in her eye told him she was almost cringing at the suggestion in her sentence, but she didn't, she just kept smiling, as though she had never been more sure about anything in her whole life.

Oliver nodded, too stunned to say anything, and she giggled at him.

"I told you I was going to remember, and the longer I put off actually going back to our home, even if I don't remember it, the longer it's going to take for me to do that," she smiled.

"As long as you're sure that's what you want," he managed to say, unable to take his eyes off of her smile.

"I'm sure it's what I want, Oliver. I want to remember everything and I want you to be there when I do. I want our life back, it's all I want now,"

As she spoke, Oliver found himself smiling again, his eyes threatening to fill with tears at any moment, and for the second time in the same minute, she took his breath away.