Diggle called Felicity that night, just as the sun was setting on the smoking ruins that questioned the team's victory. His anger had subsided by then, and understanding and worry were all that was left.

She told him everything, or at least it seemed she did. Now he knew the real reason why she broke up with Ed. A part of him thought she should've taken the man's offer, but he kept that to himself. His stomach churned uneasily when he remembered all the times she'd been in danger since Valentine's Day, and prayed she planned to stay out of trouble in the future.

He shared with her as well. His wounds were no worse than they were, and Oliver had finally decided to rest. Thea and her boyfriend Roy were safe at the mansion, and while Oliver was uncomfortable with his sister and her boyfriend living under the same roof, he couldn't object. Moira was still in jail, but it was likely she'd be home soon. Walter had left the city after filing for divorce and before the Undertaking, according to Thea. Laurel really was okay and staying with her father.

He spared her the heartache of knowing Oliver was dating Laurel again. When Diggle found out, it took him all his self-control not to scream at Oliver, considering their conversation about Felicity not too long ago. McKenna had been one thing, but this was Laurel, and Felicity would only see their reconciliation as proof that she would never get Oliver back. Diggle understood that Oliver ran to Laurel for comfort and in hopes of maintaining distance from Felicity, and that's what helped him hold his tongue; that, and because it would be a terrible time for Oliver to break up with Laurel.

Diggle saved the news about Tommy for last. Felicity had never met Tommy which probably made it easier to hear, but she was aware of his relationship with Oliver.

After all that, he ventured to ask when she would tell Oliver. She sighed and said it seemed he had enough to deal with. Diggle couldn't argue with that, but he insisted she had to tell him soon.

By the time they said their goodbyes, she sounded bone-weary. Diggle hung up and turned to catch Roy standing by the doorway of his bedroom. His guilty expression suggested he'd been eavesdropping.

"Sorry," he said. "I was just walking by and… Um, I didn't mean to listen in."

Diggle only raised an eyebrow. He had nothing against Roy; he seemed like a nice kid, at least better adjusted than Oliver. But he didn't appreciate the violation of privacy.

"What did you hear?" Diggle demanded calmly.

Roy shrugged, taking a step into Diggle's room. "That whoever you were talking to needed to tell Oliver something soon. You called her Felicity. Isn't Oliver dating Laurel?"

"Yeah, but I don't see how that's relevant."

"So, who's Felicity?"

"A friend,"

"Oliver's friend?"

"Yes,"

"What does she have to tell him soon?"

"That you're a nosy, punkass kid." quipped Diggle. "Now get out of my room and shut the door behind you."

Oliver once told Helena that before the island, he was very good at screwing up, implying that he lost that particular trait on the island. He usually knew the best way to deal with people from the list, and his success made him think that much had changed. Clearly, he was wrong; screwing up was still his greatest talent.

While some of his problems were not his fault, most of them were; his mother was incarcerated for conspiring to destroy the Glades with his best friend's dad; half the Glades was demolished despite the team's best efforts; Roy was now living in the same house as Thea; Oliver lied to Tommy about not murdering his father as he watched him die in a collapsed building on the side of town that the Hood had failed to save; Oliver had stolen Laurel from him about twenty-four hours before that (Tommy had come to her apartment to win her back, but saw them making out by the window); Oliver wasn't even completely in love with Laurel and they had already begun to drift since Tommy's death.

There was also the issue with Felicity, the woman he was really in love with. Pushing her away had become agonizing in light of the circumstances. As the days passed and the difficulties weighed heavier on his shoulders, his resolve crumbled like an earthquake-stricken building. It had started the night of the Undertaking, when he and Diggle returned to the lair. Felicity was there, scared but unharmed, and he knew how close he'd come to losing her. He forgot to maintain his distance, to keep his walls up. He didn't care. He was tired of lying, something he'd done too much lately. He told her to please be careful, and he kissed her cheek like he had so long ago, to show he remembered.

He hadn't seen Laurel the first week after the Undertaking, and he hadn't minded as long as she was safe. When he finally did see her, she spoke of the guilt she felt. He reminded her it was Mr. Merlyn's fault that Tommy died, but she meant something else. Tommy had told her he loved her right before he saved her. He gave his life for hers, and she'd so easily left him for Oliver. All it took was that one nugget of truth from Oliver, and she was ready to leave Tommy, despite all they had. Despite her tortured past with Oliver. Laurel said she needed time, but Oliver knew. It was going to take a lot to salvage the pieces, and neither of them was in the shape to do it.

Oliver told himself that the hood would help. He needed to do something useful and relatively uncomplicated to ease the inner turmoil and give him a sense of control and balance. So he donned his green getup and set out to save someone, anyone. But as he went scouring the city, he found himself drawn up the fire escape of Felicity's apartment building. His head cleared just before knocking on her window, and he wondered if he had the strength to leave before she knew he was there. His knuckles rapped involuntarily on the pane before he could make up his mind.

The sound of tapping shook Felicity into consciousness. She reached for her glasses as she looked at her window suspiciously. She had a feeling she knew who it was, but it could just as easily be a dangerous sociopath intent on hurting her. Granted, the likely person was a dangerous sociopath, but he was no threat to her.

The alarm clock glowed 10:32 as she rolled out of bed and approached the window with caution. Slowly pushing the curtains aside, she sighed in relief.

"Oliver," she muttered as she opened the window. She was about to ask what was wrong when he surprised her with a kiss; an urgent, smoldering kiss that ignited the dormant fire between them. She smacked the bow off his shoulder, tilting it out of her way so she could wrap her arms around his neck. He pulled down her pajama pants and underwear in one fell swoop, and they slid easily from her thighs to the floor as she eagerly unzipped his pants. Oliver picked her up and slammed her against the wall beside the window, her legs around his waist. He plunged inside her with a lustful grunt, and she sighed happily against his mouth.

Moans and shallow breathing were the only sounds to escape their throats; they didn't trust themselves to speak. This was a moment they had both been aching for, and they trusted their tongues to only dart in each other's mouths. They were both so in love and both too afraid to admit it.

Despite their mutual trepidation, their bodies boldly relayed the message. Every kiss was an "I've missed you," every fervent thrust and resulting squeal an "I need you." Oliver pinned Felicity to the wall with his hips as he moved inside her, allowing his gloved hands to roam over her thighs and under her shirt. His fingers teased her nipples as his hands cupped her breasts, making her dig her fingernails into his neck. He reveled in the painful pleasure, knowing it meant he was pressing the right buttons. Teasing turned to pulling, and she bit his neck playfully in response. Their mouths met again as their bodies persisted in euphoric anticipation, Felicity's back sliding up and down the wall as Oliver plowed into her over and over.

Finally they both climaxed, loud and simultaneously. That was some hello, she thought dizzily as they rested their heads on each other's shoulders. She held him tightly, as he had once told her to do. Her legs were jelly and she barely had the strength to keep them wrapped around his waist. Soon he was gently pulling out of her, and her feet dropped to the floor unsteadily. Silently, they removed his gear and clothing before crawling into bed. Oliver pulled her close, peeling her t-shirt off and tossing it by the rest of their clothing. His beard was scratchy against her chest as he rested his head on her shoulder.

Coming down from the high, Felicity was able to think clearly. As she slowly ran her fingers over his back and through his hair, comprehension dawned.

What if he left her again, like he had before? It was obvious that Oliver needed comfort because of everything going on, and it might be the only reason he came to her. It felt like love, it felt like he never wanted to leave her again, but would he change his mind? He had before. Tears welled in her eyes at the realization. Please don't leave me again, she thought. Why did she have to love him so much? Why couldn't she want someone less damaged? She traced the scars on his back with her fingertip as she pondered. They weren't bad for each other, she could tell that much. Maybe… Maybe she had fallen in love with him too soon.

Wise men say

Only fools rush in

But I can't help

Falling in love with you

Oliver's songs: "Shelter from the Storm" by Bob Dylan & "Demons" by Imagine Dragons

Felicity's songs: "Will You Still Love Me Tomorrow" by Lykke Li & "Can't Help Falling in Love" by Ingrid Michaelson

Please don't be pissed that Oliver doesn't know yet; he will find out, but at the right time. This story will take an eventual short hiatus so I can work on other things, but I'll let you know when.

Thanks to everyone who's read, reviewed, followed, and favorited this story! I'm glad you like it.