What he doesn't expect is that, just as they turn the corner, his attention is on Felicity and they get kidnapped together instead of him with Tommy. A small thing which had escaped his attention, which he'd forgotten about because it had been too long ago.
When he wakes up on the chair, hands cuffed, Felicity lying on the ground nearby, eyes closed and golden hair around her in a halo, Oliver has a flashback to the far too many moments where she'd been in danger, where she ended up hurt or injured. He barely pays any attention to the man or the electricity coursing through him with each jab of the taser, straining and focusing on escaping his binds as quickly as he can, his eyes unwaveringly fastened to the beautiful, unconscious blonde a few feet away.
He doesn't snap necks this time. He's learnt how to be better – Felicity taught him how to be better. But he's tempted, so, so tempted. Because they hurt her. He doesn't know how hurt, but Tommy and him had nothing severely wrong with them last time – so, hopefully, this will be the same.
Oliver doesn't know – and isn't sure he wants to know – what he would to them if that wasn't the case.
Still, he does nothing more than making sure that all of them are on the ground, unconscious, before checking on her. Felicity is already blinking her eyes open as he arrives at her side, looking dazed and confused and Oliver holds her down before she gets up.
He checks to make sure her breathing, her spine and back and everything is alright before helping her sit up so she cannot exacerbate any injury given that for once they have time to make sure. Then he takes a moment to secure their attackers before returning to her side promptly.
"Are you okay," he finally asks, knowing it was a stupid question but unable to help himself, unsure where to go with all his nervous energy. Felicity stumbles and he's at her side in a blink, one arm beneath her elbow, easily holding her upright.
"I'm fine," she says before snorting at her own words. "Well, not fine, obviously. This is my first kidnapping, you know. But you got them all, and I'm – I'm not injured – just… confused, I think."
"That's good," he says with a heavy breath, eyes pressed shut as he pulls her into his arms, gently kissing her head and hoping his heart will finally calm down now that she's safe. It only takes a moment before she relaxes into his arms, clutching at his shirt and tugging him closer still.
"Thank you for saving me," she says softly, her breath skating over his neck and he shudders lightly at the stimulation but refuses to relinquish his hold on her. She fits in his arms perfectly, always has, always will, it appears.
"Always," he promises. "And I'm sorry for putting you in danger. They were after me."
His mother's doing because of Malcolm. Himself in danger he can handle – but they went after Felicity.
"Not your fault," she assures him, leaning back to make eye contact so he can see her sincerity. Oliver smiles to himself, shaking his head lightly in surprise. He doesn't know why he keeps expecting Felicity not to be so… well, herself.
"Thank you," Oliver repeats, heart-felt in his gratitude.
"We should probably call the Police," Felicity says, her voice breathy, a blush colouring her cheeks and lips parted slightly, eyes on his before dropping to his lips.
Oliver knows the relief and adrenaline post-fight, in the rescue – and that's not how he wants their relationship to start – or their first kiss to be. He pulls her into him for the second time, tucking her head into his neck and pressing another kiss to her head.
"Not like this," he says softly, acknowledging that he saw – and understood – their moment and what had nearly occurred. "I want to do this right, Felicity. You deserve so much more, so much better than this. Please. Give me a little bit more time."
He can feel her tenseness, her embarrassment, receding as her body is still pressed against his.
"So, there is something happening?" She half-asks, half-states and Oliver half-laughs.
"Yes. Definitely, completely, yes," he reassures her unabashedly, pulling her face away enough so he can cradle her face in his hands. "Always," he adds firmly, making sure she can see how much he means it.
Felicity reads more than he can say, sees his words for what they are, the declaration for what it is and stills in his arms.
"Always?" She asks softly, eyes searching, and he nods.
"You're my always," he whispers quietly, affirming what she already knows despite being aware it's too much, too far, too fast.
But Felicity still doesn't pull back, doesn't slap him, doesn't accuse him of anything and doesn't appear frightened.
She just nods calmly.
"Alright then. I'll look forward to it when we get there," she says simply as if it is that easy and Oliver is the one who gets flustered.
"I- What? Really? Just like that?"
"C'mmon, Oliver, we already established that you're a mystery," Felicity smiles up at him, a wicked tinge to the curl of her mouth, the glint in her eye. "Really, do catch up."
He laughs and hugs her to him, exuberant at her willingness to let him get close to her, to let him court her, pressing another kiss – this time to her cheek.
"I have plans for you, Ms. Smoak," he promises, his voice husky, "And I would like to court you, if you will allow me to."
Her lips are twitching. "Court me?" She asks lightly, eyes twinkling.
"Or woo you, if you prefer. And then court you." Felicity laughs, but her eyes are bright, and the blush on her cheeks is darkening, so he continues. "I want our first kiss to not be something you may regret, not the aftermath of kidnapping or- well, anything like it. Not a response to the adrenaline but because it is a perfect expression of how… we feel about each other."
Felicity's laughter stops abruptly, eyes wide and darkened as she stares at him, tongue sneaking out to wet her lips and Oliver can feel himself leaning towards her automatically and barely manages to divert the movement so his lips land just beside the corner of her lips.
"You sound like you've thought about this a lot," Felicity half-states, half-asks, her voice still just this side of breathy, her breasts heaving slightly at her faster than normal breathing.
Amused, Oliver's lips curl upwards. "You wouldn't believe just how much," he says softly. While Oliver would never regret a single moment with Felicity – it was a lie to say he hadn't thought – and dreamt – about it, months before it happened. And far too many moments since he was back here given that it had been only a day.
Felicity pouts slightly. "Mystery," she complains lightly, biting her lip, and he snickers, using his thumb to gently extract her lower lip from her teeth.
"Just a little longer," he promises, before pulling his phone out. He contemplates calling Quentin directly but figures calling the general emergency hotline would be much better.
"Yes," he says, letting Felicity tuck herself in against him, his left arm cradling her body gently against his. "I'm calling to report a crime." A pause. "Yes, a kidnapping. Of myself and my… girlfriend." He can feel her still against him, but she doesn't protest the terminology, so he hopes she'll let it slide.
"No, this is not a joke," he says, exasperated. "My name is Oliver Queen and we are here, with our kidnappers, and would really appreciate it if you could come and detain them so we can get home."
They both look out the window to figure out where they are and report the address. Being a billionaire has its perks – one of them being the prompt police presence despite their location in the Glades.
As expected, Detective Lance steps out with his partner. Oliver hisses under his breath, loosening his grip on Felicity slightly.
"Just a quick heads-up," he tells her under his breath, his eyes fastened on the man heading towards them with swift strides. "I slept with both of his daughters five years ago. One of them is thought to have died when we were on the ship."
"Thought to have died?" She asks, immediately picking up on his words but he has no time to explain but doesn't want to take away from his promises, so he just nods sharply.
"I cheated on my then-girlfriend, the older daughter, with his younger one," he adds quickly, and he can see her wince. He grimaces himself.
"Yeah, I know," he says under his breath. "Sorry," he adds and she just nods, trusting that he would – will – tell her more should she ask but also understanding that this is not the right moment.
"Mr. Queen," comes the voice of Quentin Lance – only a lot more derisive than he remembers. It really has been a long time.
"Detective Lance," Oliver says, pulling one of his hands away from Felicity and stretching it out towards the man. As expected, he looks down, and then ignores it, staring straight back at him. Oliver sighs under his breath and retracts his hand.
"Hi," Felicity pipes up, voice bright as she untucks herself from around him. "I'm Felicity Smoak. Nice to meet you and thank you for coming. I was a little worried with how reluctant the emergency services were to believe that we had been kidnapped."
When the detective's hard gaze meets hers, she flinches despite Oliver's supportive hand on her back. "Funny word," she continues, voice high and eyes wide, descending into an unwilling babble, he knows. Anything to disperse her discomfort. "Kidnapping. I mean, we're hardly kids and we're definitely not napping. Shouldn't it be an abduction? Or is there a difference? Wouldn't it-"
Oliver strokes gently over her back, leaning down to whisper her name slightly and she inhales quickly, closing her eyes, before snapping them back open.
"Sorry. I tend to babble."
Oliver huffs out a laugh despite his best intentions. Even drugged to the gills enough he could barely put one foot in front of the other from Vertigo, she'd still managed to make him laugh involuntarily; it shouldn't be a surprise that she managed it in much less precarious situations.
"Sweetheart, do yourself a favour and stay away from this man," Quentin says, voice hard and eyes on Oliver instead of Felicity, "girls tend to get hurt or die around him."
Oliver can feel himself tense, straighten, all expression falling from his face as the untouchable Queen billionaire mask slides into place. He can practically tell Felicity's eyes narrow and hears her gather her breath to rebuff the Detective, but he taps her gently at her waist, and she glances back at him. He gives her glance, and he isn't sure what she reads in his eyes but, although she huffs, clearly indignant on his behalf, she relents and lets the Detective get away with it.
"The kidnappers are secured over there," he tells the man.
"Really?" The Detective sounds disbelieving but his partner pulls out his notepad and looks at Oliver. "So, can you tell me what happened?"
"We were coming out of the coffeeshop – Jitters, the branch near Queen Consolidated. We walked around a block towards. The attackers came out of an alley. Injected us with something and we were unconscious pretty immediately."
Oliver remembers managing to push Felicity behind himself, remembers her collapsing in his arms and the weight and distraction meant they'd injected him, too. He barely managed to slam one of them against the brick wall before collapsing himself.
Quentin's waved other uniforms over to take care of the kidnappers / abductors neatly piled up in the corner.
"You've been back for less than a day, Queen, how did you manage to piss off someone badly enough to go after you in such a short amount of time?" There's a sneer on his lips and the expression is still surprising to Oliver, remembering his hard-won friendship with man. "Ah, but I forgot who I was talking to," the man continues, eyes narrow, "you've-"
"Detective Lance," Felicity interrupts, voice hard, "I don't know nor do I care what kind of personal vendetta you have against Oliver – or the Queen family, but I have just been through a traumatic ordeal and if you can't see it in yourself to behave professionally, I will file a complaint and request someone who can talk with us as they should – as the fracking victims of a crime. Not the perpetrators."
Her eyes are narrowed on the Detective and she's poking him in the chest and Oliver can feel himself smiling softly at her, before gathering himself.
"Look, Detective," he starts, voice gentle but unyielding, "I get you hate me; I understand that. But there's no need to take it out on others. Felicity here has nothing to do with what's going on here."
The man frowns, eyes clearer and less dismissive of the pretty blonde at Oliver's side now that she's stood up to him and called him out – and shown that she's intelligent and clever.
"You're right. My apologies, Miss Smoak, was it?"
"Yes. S-M-O-A-K," she spells out and Quentin obligingly notes it down.
"What do you remember?"
"A sort of pinprick or papercut, you know, just a tiny sting and then I felt woozy and Oliver pushed me behind him and then my legs wouldn't hold me up anymore and I fell to the floor." She shrugs lightly, absently patting Oliver's chest as if to say thank you for his inept – not to mention failed – attempt at rescuing her.
"When I woke up, I was still pretty out of it, but Oliver had taken care of the kidnappers slash abductors already. Then he did a thorough check to make sure I was alright before we called you."
Oliver sends his eyes heavenward; Felicity's brain really finds the most amusing and rather unfortunate ways of phrasing things. He knows exactly what the Detectives think happened and cringes, taking in the dim, dirty and wet floors and walls. Quentin's partner just sends him a look as if to ask 'really'? and Oliver heaves out a sigh.
"Oh no, I didn't mean it like that," Felicity immediately jumps to correct, and Oliver relaxes slightly, "I mean he played Doctor." Oliver slams his eyes shut, cheeks flushed red and hears at least two Police Officers nearby snort.
"Urgh, why does my brain always find the worst ways to phrase things," Felicity grumbles, blushing darkly.
Oliver sighs, pats her on the shoulder and takes over easily, letting the embarrassment fade. He has no intention of letting any of them think that Felicity is like that. That this is how little she meant to him, or that she was that kind of girl.
"I checked her lumbar alignment, her back, made sure she could move, her head for injuries before allowing her to stand up just in case there was anything more serious."
"Aha. And where did you learn how to do that?" Quentin's partner prods.
"I lived on an isolated island for years, Detective," Oliver says easily, despite the tension coursing through him. He's careful to phrase things so there isn't a single lie in it, but he is rather frustrated at the constant prodding by now. "If you think I survived five years without a single injury, you're delusional," he finishes coldly.
Felicity elbows him sharply and Oliver grits his teeth.
"My apologies, Detectives. I did not intend to take my frustration at the situation out on you," he corrects, face placid and calm apart from the hard line of his jaw and the anger in his eyes.
"And what did they want with you?"
Oliver breathes out sharply – he'd only paid them passing attention; most of his focus had been on Felicity. He's actually struggling to recall what they'd been asking him because all his concentration had been targeted at making sure she was alright.
"They wanted to know if his father made it onto the island with him. And what he might have told Oliver," his favourite blonde once again comes to his rescue.
Both Detectives brows furrow at Felicity's words and his favourite blonde is gazing up at him apologetically, as if uncertain whether she was supposed to divulge this information. Oliver shakes his head gently, trying to tell her that there is no apology necessary.
"Any idea why that would be important?" Quentin asks him, looking more invested in the case for once.
Oliver opens his mouth for a moment, shuts it, and then finally shakes his head.
"My father never made it to the island, Detective. I was the only person alive on that life raft when I reached the island," his voice is gentle, his words are soft, but he can see the way the meaning hits Quentin, the way he flinches and tries to shore up his anger but fails – watches him step away for a moment.
Oliver closes his eyes in regret. He's still not sure what he should tell the Lance family, but it's hard seeing just how badly everyone around him is hurting.
"I'm sorry," he finally adds softly.
"I don't want to hear that from you, Queen," Quentin bites out harshly and Oliver just nods, staying quiet to allow them to gather themselves and continue their interrogation.
"So how did they end up beat to all hell and tied up?" Quentin's partner asks, trying to draw their attention away from his partner and Felicity once again glances up at Oliver.
Oliver sighs. Yeah. He's still not sure how to explain this without the hood, but he's still not sure he wants to be a vigilante either. He doesn't want to end up leaving Felicity behind again while he is in prison.
"Me," Oliver says with a sigh and Quentin snorts dismissively, re-joining them.
"You?"
He sighs again. "I snapped the restraints then hit the one using his taser on me with a fist in the diaphragm. He struggled to breathe and collapsed to his knees for a moment, leaving me with the guy to the right of him. I snapped his elbow as he was aiming to hit me in the head. Then I hit him in back of the knees, so he was on the floor to and forced his head down fast enough so the hit to the ground knocked him out. Threw the chair at that one as he was trying to flee and then it was just a matter of taking the last guy out and circling back for guy number one and three to ensure they were knocked out. Then I tied them up, helped Felicity up and we called you."
"That's a lot of bruises and blood for just knocking them out," Quentin says, eyes cold but more analytical as he takes Oliver in. They both know Ollie would never have been capable of this.
"I had to make sure they were unconscious," Oliver says, "I'm sure you can understand." His voice is still calm, rational, placid.
Until they step over the line.
"One might call this excessive force, Mr. Queen," Quentin's partner says, eyes on him as he tilts his head.
Oliver can't help how his shoulders tighten, his teeth grit as he bites out, "they hurt Felicity." His voice is a growl, his fists clenched and he can't relax until the blonde at his side finds his hand and intertwines it with her own. His eyes snap to her and he drops his gaze in wonder at their hands; you don't hold hands with friends like that. So far, all the overtures had been on his end, but this was more than just supportive. This was saying I'm with you. Oliver swallows harshly, but his body relaxes.
"Will that be all, Detectives?" He asks once he has gathered himself and the Detectives nod.
"Yes, thank you, Mr. Queen. Ms Smoak. If you could drop by sometime tomorrow to sign off the record of your official statements, please. Please also make sure to go to a hospital so we can find out what you were injected with and if there are any side effects. It could help us find whoever hired these goons because I don't think they were the mastermind behind this."
"Certainly," Oliver nods sharply, guiding Felicity so she's right up against him as they step past them and out of the dimly lit hovel. He pauses for a moment, before turning back for a moment.
"Detective Lance," he calls out and the man turns to him, eyes narrowed. "I talked to Laurel this afternoon and I wanted to extend the offer to you in person since you are here. If you want to, I can sit down with you, your wife and your daughter and tell you about what happened to Sara." Oliver pauses for a moment, before nodding sharply. "Let me know when and where if you decide you want that."
Then he leaves with Felicity without further obstructions. They are both guided into an ambulance which takes them to the hospital – at which point Oliver places a call to his mother, reassures her that he is fine but that there are a few tests which they will need to run before he can return home.
Moira sends one of their drivers to wait for them in the hospital entrance for whenever they are ready.
When Felicity flinches from the bright light due to a headache – or migraine, Oliver isn't sure, he doesn't even think twice before filling out her patient admittance form. It's only when he asks her to sign it and her surprised eyes are on him after she checks it and doesn't have to correct a thing, that Oliver winces and shrugs sheepishly.
Felicity rolls her eyes, winces in pain and huffs in exasperation but signs it without further comment. They are released on the condition that both stay home the next day and have someone who can keep an eye on them for the next twenty-four hours, just in case there are any unexpected side effects. Felicity looks uncertain but Oliver promises to keep an eye on her. She hesitates only for a moment before agreeing to his unspoken proposition.
It is with a surprising amount of relief that Oliver realises he doesn't have to let Felicity out of his sight anytime soon as he directs the driver to take them both to the mansion. The man doesn't make any comment, simply nodding and driving off.
Oliver relaxes back in the leather seats, enjoying the darkened windows blocking out the remainders of sunlight as he watches Felicity taking in the car for a mere moment, before slumping against him in exhaustion.
"Adrenaline crash," he explains quietly to her, "basically you were on a sugar high and now you're running out. Or could be shock. Either way, you'll feel tired, exhausted and a lot more pain than you did before. Possibly shaky. But we've got a fully stocked medicine cabinet at home, and I've got what the Doctor prescribed us. You won't be in too much pain for long, I promise."
Felicity blinks up at him blearily before she drops off to sleep entirely, leaning against him. The mansion is twenty miles out of Starling City, so Oliver settles himself in as well after making sure both their seatbelts are securely fastened. He secures his arm around her, tucking her head in against him and pressing a soft kiss to her brow as Felicity drops off into deeper sleep. Oliver then activates the internal locks before allowing his head to rest against Felicity's and dropping off into an easy, dreamless nap.
He wakes up the moment the car comes to a halt and takes only two blinks to come back to himself. Home.
Oliver can spot his mother, Walter, Tommy and Thea already waiting outside the mansion sighs to himself. He looks down at the beautiful woman in his arms and thinks about waking her up but decides to let her rest instead.
Releasing their seatbelts gently and ferrying it around Felicity without waking her up, Oliver finally releases the internal locks. He can already see Speedy fidgeting, only Moira's firm hand on her shoulder stopping her from running towards the car.
Oliver steps out but holds up his hand in the universal 'hold' sign before bending down and extracting his future wife from the leather seats. He's amused when he finds her breathing in deeply against his chest before snuggling further into his embrace. He gives a grateful nod to the driver and then steps towards his family, Felicity snug in his arms.
"Who is that?" Thea is predictably the first to break the silence, standing on her toes as she tries to peer at Felicity's face but at least her voice is quiet enough and Felicity doesn't even flinch. Still, Oliver grimaces and tucks her further in against him, shifting so she's well hidden from his family's prying eyes.
"Let me put her into one of the guest rooms and I'll explain."
His mother's brow furrows and she opens her mouth, clearly intent on dissuading Oliver from his course of action but he just shakes his head sharply, staring at her until she relents with her usual hostess-smile – upset, but won't bring it up just now, Oliver reads. Good enough.
He steps up the stairs without problems and finds the nearest empty room – Tommy, luckily, followed him and is happy enough to let him in when he struggles with the doorknob. He mouths his thanks and his best friend just nods.
It's only once Felicity is carefully laid out on the bed that Oliver takes a small step back. Then he takes off her shoes, carefully takes out her earrings and glasses and places them in easy view (and reach) on the bedside table. Her hairband had snapped sometime during their abduction already, so one less thing to worry about. After careful consideration, Oliver stops there – anything beyond this would likely be stepping beyond their boundaries.
He then gets Tommy's help to pull out the duvet while he lifts Felicity again before laying her back down on the mattress and covering her with the duvet. He goes back to his room and finds one of his longer shirts and a longer jumper in case she prefers it over the shirt as well as a clean pair of boxers and lays it on the chair beside her so Felicity can slip into something more comfortable should she wake up during the night. He makes sure she's not lying on top her own hair and carefully tucks a few strands behind her ear so they're away from her face – although Felicity always does the most adorable sneezes in her sleep, face scrunched up and lips pursed, when her hair tickles her nose, it is also enough to wake her up most days – which is not something she needs now.
It's only after his third check of her pulse and her breathing, of making sure her neck is properly supported by the pillow, that Tommy moves again in his peripheral vision and Oliver stills momentarily with the immediate need to eliminate the threat before realising what is happening with his next breath and stepping away from his favourite blonde on the bed, nodding at Tommy to precede him out of the room. One last glance inside before he softly allows the door to snick shut. He will return momentarily with some snacks, medicine, and a glass of water, but Felicity is safe and secure for now.
It still takes another moment before he can make himself let go of the doorknob and actually follow Tommy back downstairs.
His best friend is still quiet as they take the steps down – unusually so since Tommy is normally never one not to find a quip for whatever is happening at the time – but he notes the narrowed eyes, the confusion in his glances and Oliver can't help but sigh to himself. He knew a confrontation with his family was his impending, but he'd intended for it to be on his own terms – not with Felicity injured and asleep upstairs a day after his return.
"I'll explain in a moment," Oliver assures his assembled family waiting for him in lounge. Moira sighs – which means she wants to let him know how exasperated she is with his fussing and his delays.
Too bad. His wife will always take precedence.
He finds a tray in the small corner where Raisa usually stashed them for when one of the Queen family were sick and quickly fills a glass with water and grabs the pain killers from his pocket before taking out the recommended dosage and putting it beside the glass. Then he prepares a bowl of fruit, a sandwich – at which point Thea and Tommy, obviously the more impatient ones, join in to watch him in the kitchen – and several cookies and chocolate bars. He uses covers to ensure the food remains fresh for as long as possible, amusing himself by wondering what her expression will be when she finds a simple sandwich and snacks under the cloche.
He then has to stroll through the mansion until he finds a notepad and pen beside the telephone, finally. It strikes him again just how little his family communicate with each other. He remembers Felicity leaving him hundreds of little post-it notes all the time – both when they were and when they weren't together, all with her own little affectionate touch. But in the Queen mansion? No post it notes, no messages. No pictures on the fridge. It's remote and untouchable and the pictures in the entrance hall are more for their guests and audience than for the family themselves.
He's glad that life with Felicity has always been different. That she was so different from anything he was used to.
Hello Felicity,
In case you don't remember, you're at my – the Queen – family mansion. My room is two doors down from you. Please don't hesitate to come in if you need anything.
There is a bathroom adjoining your bedroom; please feel free to use any and all amenities within and don't worry about a thing. What's mine is yours.
Oliver hesitates for a moment here – it says so much more than he should say, but it is so very true and he can't bring himself to put a line through it or write a new letter. With a sigh, hoping she will let him get away with yet another statement like this, he leaves it and moves on.
I've left you some of my clothes to change into on the chair beside the bed if you want something more comfortable to sleep in.
Please help yourself to the food and water on the tray and if you need anything more either wake me or you can explore and try and find the kitchen on your own if you prefer. And don't worry, everything is made without any nuts. Also, the pain killer is the recommended dosage for the next six hours but I'll leave the container beside it.
How to sign off, Oliver wondered. When she'd been his PA he'd just signed his name. However when they were together he'd usually put 'Love' in his notes.
Always,
Oliver
He knows it's an unspoken thing between them, knows he hasn't been very good – or trying all that hard – to hide how he feels for her. Oliver also knows that writing Always has more meaning for him than it does for her – but it's not without any meaning to her. And he knows she will guess, probably rather accurately, what he means by it. But he kind of likes that, too.
Now he just needs to make sure that neither his super-nosy sister nor his just as curious best friend poke their noses in, snatch the letter out from underneath him or in any way read it. He glares at Tommy when the man promptly reaches for the letter the moment Oliver adds it to the tray and he lifts his hands in wide-eyed innocence – or at least that's how he wants to appear. Tommy, to be fair, is rather good at this expression with his boyish charm, but Oliver knows his friend to well and only sets his jaw, hardens his stare and, as per usual in their nonverbal communication, Tommy reads the silent 'back off' well enough to stuff his hands in his pockets and take a proverbial step back.
Oliver nods just in time snatch Thea's hands out of the air when she tries the same thing.
"C'mmon Ollie, I just want to see what kind of game my bro has," his sister tries, peering over to see if the letter has magically fluttered open or if she's allowed to read it.
"Look, Speedy," he starts and ignores her playful groan at the nickname. "I'll be right back, and I will explain. But she's just been kidnapped, and I know there's a lot of empathy in you," he taps her sternum meaningfully, "so extend some to her, hm? You can badger in a few weeks' time, alright? But for now, I need you to back off a bit, okay."
There's unhidden surprise written all over her face as she stares at him like he's said something revelatory – he isn't entirely sure what. Thea's always been very empathetic, she just doesn't like vulnerability and covers it with sass and wit, a hard shell around a very soft core. But Thea just lets him pass, silent, not raising the questions swimming around her head, just watching as he walks back up the stairs, tray in hand, so Oliver shrugs it off.
Back in the bedroom Felicity is in, he makes sure the lamp on the side table he's putting the tray on is lit so she can spot it easily, unfolds the letter and props it up against the fruit bowl and then puts her glasses on the tray in easy view. Before he knows what he's doing, he's rechecked her vitals again. Oliver usually is more in control of himself, but it's hard around her, especially when she's injured. He always needs the reassurance that she's alive, that he's managed to protect her this time around. Pressing a soft kiss to her forehead, he leaves the bedroom once more, joining his family downstairs.
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