A/N: Again, thank you so much to everyone who reviews or adds this story!

Though now I'm writing olicity one-shots as well I promise I won't leave this story behind.

Enjoy!

SPOILERS 2x12

A setback.

That's what that whole case felt like. The week had already been tense, with Roy's training going south, leaving Oliver even angrier than usual. Then the Bronze tiger reappeared, leading them straight to Merlyn's. That name alone made the room silent, the usual easiness of their partnership gone; the scars Malcolm Merlyn had left in them all too fresh.

She had seen how Oliver's eyes darkened just by hearing his name, so his annoyance at having to deal with the memories at his house was only too evident, just by listening to his voice on the com. Still when he came back to the foundry there wasn't only anger in his stance and the edge of his voice, but a certain weight he lacked before. She studied him, as he replayed what he'd learnt: the earthquake device, Roy's fury, Slade, Shado. His voice laced with regret when he talked about them, eyes lost in the distance.

Dig saw this as his cue to leave him alone. Felicity, though, liked to push his boundaries. She approached him carefully, fidgeting with the watch in her hands. Oliver's back was to her as he was setting his gear aside and taking his jacket off.

"Oliver" she called, hesitantly. He turned around and eyed her curiously. She swallowed and thought of the best way to approach this.

"Is there something wrong?" she said, the only response she got from him was his eyebrows rising. "I mean, I know there's a lot going on, most of it wrong. Like the device… prototype device, and then there's the ill-named assassin on the loose." she rumbled on, eyes anywhere but on him; his brow furrowing.

"Felicity" he said sternly. She stopped mid-rant and looked at his expectant face.

"Right." Putting the watch down by her desk she walked in his direction, eyes glued to the ground. "What I meant was, are you ok? There seems to be something bothering you." With that she looked up at him and seeing him start to shrug it off she raised an accusing finger and stood her ground "and please don't state the obvious, loose assassin, life threatening mobster excuse. I can read through those lies." She ended, proudly.

He looked taken aback, certainly not expecting anyone to call his bluff. Yet Felicity always managed to surprise him.

He hesitated, wondering how much to share, trying to gauge her response. Then he met her eyes and softly said "I saw Tommy". The mild annoyance that painted her features before turned to sorrow, an apology already forming on her lips. He stopped her, taking a step forward.

"I came across a framed picture of him, in the hall. It was quite recent, probably from last year. He had a smile on his face… typical Tommy." Though the corners of his lips rose at that comment his voice was still somber, low; his eyes fixed in the distance, like stuck in the past. "He would always crack a joke just before we had our picture taken, so we'd both be smiling. 'Looking our best', he'd say." She smiled faintly, for she hadn't known him well but glad that Oliver was sharing those precious memories with her.

His features clouded with worry as he kept going. "When I came back he complained about that: me not smiling as much. I just didn't have the heart to tell him I haven't done that in so long it just didn't felt right anymore."

His voice was tainted with pain. She felt the need to comfort him, yet was too afraid that he would put his guard up. Silence stretched between them and then he looked at her, like snapping out of a haze. She could see her sorrow mirrored in his blue eyes. She closed the distance between them and caressed his cheek, blue eyes closing at her touch.

"Felicity" he warned, his voice barely a whisper.

"I know" she breathed, not sure if he was urging her to walk away or take it a step forward, yet terrified of asking.

"I'm sorry… for all of it. But Tommy… I know he wouldn't want you to blame yourself. It was not your fault." His eyes snapped open, meeting hers, lips parting to voice his response. "Don't" she stopped him, her thumb pressing against his mouth. "We're not arguing about this. I know you feel like it is all on your shoulders, but it's really not. If it weren't for you they would all be dead: Laurel, detective Lance, Thea, Roy. Me." He shook under the intensity of her stare. "You are a hero, Oliver. Believe that."

He stood still before her, a soft hand still holding his face. Her eyes were fixed on his, wishing the words would sink in. She lingered, not wanting to break the spell, but knowing this wasn't the time to push any further. So she let her hand fall to her side and, with one final look his way, walked away.

Oliver stood silent in the gloomy basement, now feeling just a faint, uncomfortable pang in his chest. He walked to the desk, hands leaning on the back of her chair, and wondered how she had that affect on him. In his world so void of hope and happiness, she was a light, an unbridled force that shook him awake. As he let her words wash over him he wondered where he would be without Felicity Smoak in his life, terrified of ever finding out the answer.

They are getting closer and closer…

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