Note: Hello everyone! Short note here. Yes, I am posting this chapter which is the immediate aftermath of the previous chapter. Thank you so much to everyone who commented on ch. 27. Your thoughts mean a lot to me and inspire me to keep going. Regarding this chapter: Be prepared for angst and emotion. Also, I somehow managed to put in a scene that's kind of light and humorous? Yeah, it was strange, but I kind of enjoyed it since it's fairly short. Either way, thank you so so so much for not giving up on me or this story! We only have a few more chapters to go and I really hope you'll like where things finally come to an end. Now, please enjoy! xx
Hunted
Chapter 28: The Point of No Return
She couldn't breathe but at least she had stopped crying. Numbness took over and then somehow, her heart started to beat steady in her chest, despite the fact that her lungs wouldn't fill with air. She blinked, in a haze, blurry images flashing through her head, in front of her eyes. The taste of blood in her mouth, trickling down her throat, the smell of it all around her. Her claws tearing into flesh, digging deep, warmth flowing down her hands, coating them in red.
Later, the ringing in her ears was drowned out by the solid beat of his heart as he embraced her tightly, holding her as her knees buckled and sobs wracked her body. It was all a blur, how he took her back to the safety of her apartment and she couldn't remember how they had gotten out without someone spotting them. Her eyes fell closed and she inhaled sharply through her nose, senses more heightened than they had been in a good while. He was still in the apartment, speaking on the phone to someone, but she was lost.
Somehow, she had ended up in the shower. Her brain decided to remind her of the fact that he had helped her take her dress off; that she had been compliant and not spoken a word as he instructed her to raise her hands above her head. He had whispered for her to get under the warm spray of water and she had obeyed, not trusting herself to speak anymore; not trusting herself to do anything. Her underwear and bra were soaked through as she sat down in the tub, letting the water wash away all the blood. She wrapped her arms around herself and he told her that he would be back with towels and clothes, but he was on the phone now so she allowed herself to just stare out into emptiness. The water was colored pink and she stared at her hands. There was still blood underneath her fingernails and she could sense it all around her.
Everything hurt and her heart ached. All those people, gone, because she had failed them. The Count, killed by her; her first kill ever and despite knowing that he had been a monster, she still couldn't believe that she had killed him.
Oliver ended the call and Felicity heard him rummage through her drawers, looking for something that she could wear. Felicity stared at the white tile wall of her bathroom and then back at the blood on her hands. The numbness faded once more and pain consumed her.
-§-
Oliver hung up the phone and removed his jacket. He had stolen one of the company cars from the garage, broken into it and hotwired it after putting Felicity in the front passenger seat. Getting to her apartment, he had carried her inside again, using the emergency staircase that lead directly up to her small balcony. There, he managed to break in through one of her windows that had been left slightly open and he had gently pulled her inside.
Not that she had needed much prompting, because from what he could tell, Felicity was lost in her own world. Oliver had pulled her into the bathroom and helped her out of her dress. She hadn't spoken a word, her eyes had remained empty. It pained him to no end to see her like that. He made sure to avert his eyes as she stepped into the shower, the water immediately making the flimsy material of her bra and panties see-through. Oliver couldn't look at her because he knew that it would be wrong. He wouldn't do that to her, no matter how much he ached to just be close to her, to get in under the spray with her and hold her until the cracked pieces stuck together again.
He had to find her something to wear, but before he could do so, he needed to call Diggle and tell him what had happened. Diggle told him that Shrapnel had been caught with his finger on the trigger, but they had taken him down. He had been a human, although Lance suspected that he had been hoping to be turned into a vampire, at least, before the end of the day. Instead, his body had already been transported to the morgue.
Oliver told Diggle about the Count. He repeated everything as fast as he could, with as much detail as possible.
"How is she?" Diggle asked, his voice filled with concern and regret. Oliver knew that his friend wished that he could have been there to help. Maybe things wouldn't have gone the way they had then.
There was no point in dwelling. What had happened had happened. There was no point of return; no way of going back.
"I can't leave her," Oliver said, voice low, broken. "Dig, I can't leave her tonight."
"Then don't," Diggle told him. "You stay with her and you show her that she is still the Felicity we know and love. Nothing has changed."
Oliver started to speak again, but his voice broke and he swallowed back tears. It was so unfair; she didn't deserve this. None of them did. Oliver had fired that second arrow into the Count's chest in hopes of killing him, but Felicity had been in a blood haze and gotten loose from her confines. He didn't blame her for anything, but he knew that she would blame herself. In her mind, she was the one who had dealt the killing blow. They had been through so much already and Oliver didn't think he would be able to handle another set-back, especially not one like this. He couldn't allow Felicity to break because he knew that if she started to now, she would never recover.
"I need clothes," Oliver choked out. "I don't have any here."
"I'll bring them to you," Diggle said. "You just stay there and make sure she's safe. I'll call Detective Lance and tell him about Count Vertigo. I'm sure he's already heard about it from somewhere, but it would be worse if we didn't confirm that it was us."
"I shot him again in the end," Oliver said. "He was already dying… But I killed him, not her. I couldn't let her have that on her hands… I started it and then she- It wasn't her fault. He wanted this, Diggle. He force-fed her blood because he wanted her to lose it. For him, it was a suicide mission."
Diggle sighed, "Oliver, I know. Just… Stay put and I'll be there in an hour. Get her to lay down or something. Make her rest."
Oliver didn't need to be told twice, so he agreed and then hung up. Sighing to himself, he walked over to Felicity's bedroom. He looked through her closet and found her a pair of sweatpants and a large t-shirt. In one of her drawers, he quickly grabbed a pair of light blue cotton panties and… He stared at her bra-collection, wondering whether she would actually bother with putting one on now. From what he recalled, Felicity never slept with a bra, but he figured he might as well take one with him to be sure. He grabbed the light gray one, with rocketships on it and headed back toward the bathroom.
He found her staring at her hands. She was lost in her thoughts again, it seemed. Oliver only hoped that she wouldn't drown in them.
-§-
Felicity didn't put her bra on. She did, however, manage to put the other clothes that Oliver had brought her on without his help. Considering everything that was swimming around in her mind, she counted that as a small win. She had met Oliver's eyes briefly when he had wrapped her in a towel and she couldn't help but notice how his eyes never strayed from her face. There was pain in his eyes too and she wondered, how he felt after everything that had happened; after everything that she had done.
She laid down on the couch and curled into herself. Oliver threw a blanket over her and she was surprised when he sat down on the floor next to her, putting his hand over hers. Glancing at him, their eyes connected and her chin trembled again. She closed her eyes, not being able to look at him anymore. What if he hated her now? She was just as bad as the other Dark Ones that he hated. She was a killer, out of control and crazy for blood. Or at least, she had been in that moment when she had ripped the Count's throat out with her bare hands.
Felicity wasn't sure how much time passed, but her breath started to even out eventually. She managed to inhale deeply a few times, get some oxygen into her lungs and then exhale slowly through her mouth, all in hopes of relaxing. There was no point though because the tension in her muscles wouldn't disappear, no matter how hard she tried to think of anything else.
There was a knock on the door and Oliver lifted himself up from the floor, leaving to open it. Her hand felt cold when Oliver's fell from it. She heard Diggle's voice and her chest constricted at the sound of it. The couch dipped down slightly and she opened her eyes when she felt Diggle's hand run over the top of her head. He was trying to comfort her and the soft motion brought tears to her eyes again.
"You're going to be okay," Diggle said, but it sounded almost like a promise to her ears.
"How do you know?" Felicity wondered, voice thick.
"Because you're Felicity," Diggle told her, no hesitation there. "You're one of the strongest, most amazing and badass women I know. You're going to get through this."
The confidence he had in her moved her. Diggle was a part of her family, just like the rest of the team was and it meant the world to her that he still somehow found it in himself to believe in her. It was different though, because the two of them hadn't struggled to build their partnership in the beginning like she and Oliver had. Diggle had accepted her into the team, perhaps reluctantly at first, but ultimately, he had become her first real friend after she had escaped from captivity. She wasn't sure what Oliver had told him exactly, but whatever it was, Diggle hadn't lost faith in her. He still believed that she was good, she could hear it in his voice and read it off of every signal his body sent out.
Diggle leaned down, pressed his lips against her temple gently and Felicity welcomed the touch. Her heart still felt heavy with guilt, although it became a little easier to breathe after Diggle continued to radiate his silent comfort into her. The guilt was more over the civilians who had been killed than the Count, even though Count Vertigo had been the one she had murdered with her own hands.
After a couple of minutes, Diggle told her to rest and left. Once Diggle was gone, Oliver whispered silently to her that he was going to take a quick shower and that she should try to get some sleep. Felicity didn't say anything in return, not being able to form words and Oliver reluctantly left. Moments later, she heard the water turn on again in the bathroom and she squeezed her eyes shut tightly. She couldn't talk about it; she wasn't ready yet. Quickly she stood and started shedding her clothing, folding the shirt and the pants and her underwear, putting it on the edge of the couch. Kneeling down, she closed her eyes, not even feeling the first bone breaking.
-§-
Oliver finished his shower quickly, not wanting to take too long to get out to Felicity again. He didn't want to leave her alone, especially not now. When he finished getting dressed in a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt, his eyes zeroed in on Felicity's bloodied and abandoned dress on the floor. Images of how she had looked when she had torn into the Count flashed through his mind and he closed his eyes, the pain in his chest too much all of the sudden. He wanted to erase that horrid moment from existence, but he knew it was impossible. It was as Diggle had said: he needed to show Felicity that what had happened didn't change his feelings about her. She was still the same person and she had been pushed to do something that she normally never would have done.
Oliver gathered up the dress and put it in the sink in the bathroom. He let water run over it and looked through one of the lower cabinets for something so that he could wash the material. Finding some detergent, Oliver spread some over the dress and started rubbing the garment together so that he could get the blood stains out. His mind once again wandered to the woman in the other room. He couldn't believe that he had once again failed to protect her; that he had let her be taken by the enemy and manipulated into going feral for long enough that she lost the sense of her own actions. Pain and anger coursed through him, at the Master who was targeting himself and the woman he loved, at the Count who had done everything in his power to break Felicity. Oliver refused to let them win. He refused to let Felicity fall into darkness. If he had to, he would remind her every damn day of how much she meant to him and to their team. He would tell her, time and time and again how she is the one who saved him, who brought him back from his own void and stopped him from going down the self-destructive path he had started on. If he hadn't met her, Oliver was certain that he would have died a long time ago, or at least become a shell of the man he had once been. She had brought him back from the edge and he would be damned if he let her give up on herself. He believed in her and he always would.
Hanging up the dress to dry, Oliver saw that there was still a stain on it that he hadn't been able to get out. He hoped that maybe it would get washed away if he put the thing in the washing machine, but he wouldn't hold his breath. Eyeing it one more time, he sighed to himself and walked out of the bathroom, heading to the living room where he had left Felicity.
He paused at the sight of her clothes folded neatly on the couch and for a second, his heart jumped in his chest when he thought that she might have left. Oliver hurried around the couch, stopping abruptly at the sight in front of him. Felicity was laying on the floor and she had turned into a wolf. Her head stayed low, but a whimper escaped her and Oliver breathed out slowly. He remembered what had happened the last time that she had been in wolf form and he had approached her. It had been after Russia and she had snarled at him and pulled away from his touch. After everything that had happened tonight, Oliver didn't know for sure what she was going to do, but he decided to go with his gut and take a step closer.
Felicity closed her eyes and another whimper filled the room. Slowly, Oliver sat down on the floor, moving a bit closer to her so that he could lean his back against the sofa.
"Felicity," he said cautiously, reaching out to her. The wolf remained unmoving, eyes still closed and Oliver wondered just how much of her was Felicity and how much was wolf now. After she had been force-fed, he couldn't know for sure, but he had a feeling that she still knew him. Felicity had always been in control of herself, even as a wolf; tonight had been the first time that she had been pushed so far that she lost it.
Finally, Oliver reached her, his fingers resting gently on the top of her head. He watched as she tensed momentarily, inhaling sharply through her nose. Then, when she reopened her eyes, Oliver saw the familiar blue of Felicity there, a contrast to the golden color she normally had when she was a wolf. He had only known her eyes to shift to her natural color when she was in tune with what she was doing. Her turn now had been her own choice and Oliver understood that she hadn't wanted to talk about everything that had happened. Running his hand gently through the fur at the top of her head, he was surprised when she moved forward, following him as he retracted and settled more comfortably against the couch. He stared at her when she scrambled forward, her head coming to rest on top of his thigh. Oliver hesitated again, but finally began coming through her coat, gently and comfortingly. Felicity closed her eyes again, nuzzling against him and Oliver was shocked to see that there was wetness surrounding her eyes, even as a wolf.
Pain filled him again and Oliver couldn't help but run his hand over her head, flattening her ears back against it. "I know you don't want to talk," he murmured after a while, "but how do you feel about going to bed? Do you, uh… Do you mind sleeping in bed as a wolf?"
Oliver took her in as she once again nudged him with her nose, head shaking from side to side. Gently, he ran his fingers over her again. "Okay, do you want me to come with you? To stay with you in the bed, I mean? I can sleep on the couch if-?"
A low whine fell from Felicity and Oliver swallowed, nodding curtly. When he stood up, Felicity scrambled up to stand as well. She eyed him and Oliver looked at her discarded clothing once more, picking them up before he started for her bedroom. Felicity followed, keeping so close to him that he nearly tripped over her when she kept pushing against his legs. His hand found purchase in her fur once more and she seemed to calm instantly, walking slower again.
When they reached the bedroom, Oliver put Felicity's clothes on the chair in the corner of the room and moved to sit on the bed. He stared down at his lap, felt the bed dip and then turned to look at Felicity who was once again just watching him silently. Letting out a low breath, he laid back, resting his head against the pillow that still held her scent. Inhaling deeply, he closed his eyes, not bothering to pull the covers over himself. A moment later, he felt a warm weight settle on his stomach and he opened his eyes a little to see that Felicity had laid her head there. She blinked up at him, eyes flickering from blue to gold, but she remained calm. Her wolf form was pressed against his side and Oliver could feel the heat from her transferring to him. He wouldn't be needing the comforter at all, if she stayed close like that all night.
A part of Oliver wondered if it should be strange, that he felt so comfortable around her, even when she was a wolf. He couldn't speak to her or tell her what he was thinking about, but somehow, he hoped that she would just understand without him needing to say anything about it. Whenever she was ready to talk, he would be there for her. He wouldn't leave her side until then, Oliver vowed to himself. He wouldn't abandon the woman he loved.
Closing his eyes again, Oliver's hand settled once more on top of Felicity's head, running over the softness of her fur, hoping that she would understand everything he couldn't tell her now.
-§-
"I don't fucking know what I'm doing," Oliver muttered to himself, looking at the chicken in the oven. He knew how to cook, don't get him wrong, but he wasn't sure if Felicity would be willing to eat the chicken he was preparing for them. Looking over his shoulder, he suppressed the urge to shoot a glare at the wolf who was watching him curiously. It had been two days since Felicity had turned into a wolf and she still hadn't turned back. Oliver had kept his silent promise and stayed with her, messaging Diggle that there was no process whatsoever in getting Felicity to turn back so they could talk for real. Sure, somehow Oliver understood the small gestures and expressions that Felicity made, but not hearing her actual voice for two whole days was agony.
Over the past two days, he had tried to talk to her about anything other than what had actually happened with the Count. He didn't know if it was the right thing to do, but he didn't want to push her. Diggle had agreed, that giving her some time to deal with it in her own way might be good, but their friend worried that maybe Felicity had turned into a wolf because it was easier to just escape her human feelings if she could close them out as a wolf. Oliver had asked Diggle to check in on Thea and Roy too, but to not give away or say anything about what had happened. It appeared as though Roy had felt the change in Felicity too, although she had been quick enough to stop their minds from connecting, so Roy didn't know exactly what had happened. According to Diggle, Roy was worried too, though he couldn't come back to Starling City until he was certain he wouldn't hurt anyone, or more specifically Felicity.
"How the fuck am I supposed to even serve you this chicken?" Oliver asked. "Do you want me to put it on a plate for you? Like, cut it up or do you want to… Chew on the bone? Is that offensive? Am I being offensive?"
Felicity only blinked twice and then huffed through her nose, turning her head away from him. Oliver sighed, facing her fully. "You know that I didn't mean anything by it, don't you?" he wondered, needing the reassurance. "Felicity, please."
She looked back at him and Oliver gave her a pleading look. When she let out a small sound that sounded only like half a snarl, Oliver nearly smiled.
Then, the chicken started burning.
-§-
Another day passed and Oliver was starting to lose hope. She couldn't stay a wolf forever, could she? Oliver understood that it was a part of Felicity coping, but he wasn't sure that avoiding to talk about what had happened by turning into a wolf was very good for her. He got that that first night, she had needed it. It could have had to do with her wanting to heal properly too, but he couldn't be sure since she hadn't given him any kind of explanation for her turn, so Oliver had to assume.
Tommy had called the day before and asked how things were going, and Oliver had somehow managed to crack a broken smile when his friend had questioned how Felicity goes to the bathroom if she's a wolf. Oliver wasn't sure if he should talk to Tommy about such a thing, but he told him that he pretty much assumed that she turned back into a human in the privacy of the bathroom and then turned back into a wolf again whenever he was distracted. Felicity could be sneaky, when she wanted to and a part of Oliver knew that he could have just ambushed her in the bathroom, but he wouldn't do that to her. The thing was, Oliver was practically the epitome of not talking about things that had happened to him, although deep inside he had a longing to just hear Felicity's voice again.
"This can't go on for much longer," Oliver told her later at night. He was on his back in her bed, staring up at the ceiling, his fingers running through her soft fur. "I need you to talk to me, Felicity."
Felicity didn't say anything, but her paw did press down on his thigh and Oliver took that as a sign that it might be time to face what had happened soon.
-§-
Felicity woke up in the middle of the night on her third day as a wolf, Oliver's body curved around her, even though she was still a wolf. Blinking a few times, she wondered to herself whether or not he realized that he had woken up every day for the past three mornings holding her as if she was some kind of giant teddybear. It was endearing, although Felicity didn't understand what he was still doing there with her. She was avoiding talking to him because she knew that they had reached a tipping point in their relationship. With what she had done, to the Count and to all those people by not being quick enough to figure out where the bombs were hidden… She didn't know if she would ever be able to forgive herself, so it didn't make sense to her that Oliver would either. It scared her, to think that after everything, this might be their breaking point. She wasn't ready to face him but she knew that it was inevitable. Staying in her wolf shape didn't make the pain and guilt go away, but it made it easier to direct her focus on something else. It was comforting to be a wolf and it made her feel like herself again. Still, the way that she had lost control at Queen Consolidated and the way that she had ended up killing the Count pained her. She wished she could have been stronger.
A low whine escaped her and Oliver shifted, mumbling her name under his breath, his nose burying in her fur coat. Her heart hammered away inside her chest because she knew that he was still asleep and here she was, taking advantage of the fact that it felt good to have him close. It was almost like he grounded her, but she knew she didn't deserve this kind of support from him.
She moved slowly and Oliver muttered something again, but rolled over without waking. Felicity sat back up and stared at him for a second or two before finally getting off the bed.
Silently, she made her way out the bedroom, picking up the clothes that Oliver had left out for her every evening in case she decided to turn back. She trudged slowly to the bathroom, stepping inside and dropping the clothes on the floor. Quickly then, she started shifting back, kneeling for just a moment to allow herself to adjust to being human again. She had turned back a few times when Oliver had been distracted, mostly so that she would be able to use the bathroom, but she had been fortunate enough that he hadn't noticed.
Or at least she didn't think he had?
Turning with a sigh, Felicity locked the door and walked over to the tub, getting in and starting the shower. The water was icy cold at first but it warmed soon and Felicity couldn't help but sigh. She wasn't sure what she was going to say just yet, only that she had to tell Oliver that he didn't need to stick around anymore. He probably had a hundred other things to deal with, Queen Consolidated being the first of them and the threat of the Master probably rounding up the list. She thought about how she had come into his life and how she had shaken things up by telling him that there was some evil mastermind out there who was turning wolves against their will. Her mind went to Roy and her chest ached when she thought about how she had forced him out of her head, not letting him feel what she felt, knowing that it would only destroy him. She had been the one that the Count had come after, she had been the reason that he had attacked Oliver under the disguise of Cyrus Gold and she was to blame for Roy's turn. Somehow, it all tied back to her and she didn't know why but it seemed like everything she touched was destined to be destroyed, one way or another.
When she finished with her shower, Felicity quickly pulled on her t-shirt, panties and sweatpants. She tried to untangle her wet hair, brushing it slowly. It was a mess, much like her, but the shower had at least made her relax a little. Rolling her shoulders back, she watched herself in the mirror for a moment. There were bags under her eyes, her face seemed just a little bit paler than it usually was, making the dark rings more pronounced. Something caught her eye in the mirror and a frown instantly covered her face. She turned, walking up to the folded material that Oliver must have put above one of the cabinets. Staring at it, she recognized the dress she had been wearing a couple of nights ago. Her senses were flooded with the scent of dried blood; the blood that she had been force-fed.
Felicity held the material tightly in her hand, sadness and anger welling up inside of her. Why hadn't Oliver just throw it away? How had the dress escaped her notice until now? Had she been so out of it these past few days that she hadn't even seen it?
Unlocking the door, Felicity walked out of the bathroom, dress in hand. When she stepped out in the living room on her way to the kitchen, she stopped abruptly. Oliver stood up from the couch. His hair was sticking out in every imaginable direction. He looked tired and honestly, that was no surprise considering that it was still nighttime.
"I woke up and you weren't there," he said, his eyes moving over her once, as if he was trying to make sure she was all right. It made her throat tighten. "I came out here, heard the shower running and I figured I should wait for you."
For a moment, she just stood there, clutching the dress in her hands, staring at him. She wasn't even sure where she should begin. What was she supposed to say to him? Lifting the dress up, letting it fall open in front of her, she held it so that Oliver could look at it, "Why did you try to wash it?" Her voice was a little hoarse, since she hadn't been using it at all these past three days. She watched as something flashed over Oliver's face and she lowered the dress once more, deciding to just stare at him instead. They were going to have a conversation, she was sure.
And when they did, there would be no way to go back and erase it.
-§-
The silence between them was deafening. Oliver stared at Felicity, not knowing what he was supposed to say.
"You shouldn't have bothered with cleaning it," Felicity told him, voice even, almost emotionless. Too bad her eyes were screaming at him.
"I thought you might still want it…" Oliver mumbled, watching her as she shook her head.
"Well, I don't," Felicity told him, voice coming out harsher than she intended. She continued to clutch the material though, Oliver noticed. Her jaw was clenched and she didn't seem to be able to meet his eyes. "Why would you come after me, Oliver?" Felicity asked then, her voice quiet. She was still refusing to look at him; she didn't trust herself to do so.
Oliver took a small step toward her, and then another, rounding the couch. "What was I supposed to do?" he asked. He needed to hear from her what it was that was going on in her mind.
"You should have gone with Diggle," Felicity said. There was annoyance in her tone and she knew Oliver could hear it too. Although, there was also something else there; something Oliver wasn't sure he should name, because he couldn't quite believe he was hearing it.
"Diggle had the final bomb handled," Oliver reminded her. "Lance was with him too. Everything was under control there and you know damn well why I came after the Count."
"Do I?" Felicity finally turned, meeting his eyes. Her question hung between them for a moment, but Oliver didn't have time to reply before Felicity continued. "Do I really, Oliver? You shouldn't have put yourself in danger like that. You didn't even know for sure what you were facing, but you just came there with your damn bow and nothing else!" Her voice was raised toward the end of her rant and Oliver's nostrils flared.
"He had you, Felicity," Oliver said, glaring at her because he hated how she was turning the whole thing around on him now. What did it matter if he had put himself in danger? They all did that every day, every night, whenever they went out on a hunt.
"I'm not worth it, Oliver!" Felicity snapped, her voice sounding thicker now. "You can't risk your own life every fucking time mine is on the line! You have to think about the bigger picture!" Her breaths were coming out harshly. Oliver could see the tears that were building in her eyes as she tried desperately to keep her emotions in check.
"Are you fucking kidding me right now?" Oliver stared at her, mouth falling open. "Of course you're fucking worth it, Felicity. You're always going to be worth it." He took another step toward her, but she refused to meet his eyes now. "Felicity, he had you and there was no choice to make," he said, this time, his voice softer. He could see the myriad of emotions on her face; he could sense her confusion, fear and everything else inside of him. It gave him courage to keep going, to keep pushing because he wasn't going to let her do this, not now, not ever.
His words echoed the words that she had told him when she had revealed his identity to Barry. When Oliver's life had been on the line, she had done everything in her power to save him. How could she think that he would do anything less for her? His jaw clenched and he looked at her, not knowing what else he should say. He had made the decision to put her first, to risk Shrapnel's escape in case Diggle and Detective Lance didn't get to the bomber in time, all so that he could save her.
A sob broke through the silence that had fallen between them and Oliver looked at her face. She wiped at her cheeks furiously, but he could see that she was crying openly now.
"I'm a monster," Felicity said, tears falling from her eyes. "I'm a killer, just like all the other Dark Ones. You were right about me since the beginning. You were right not to trust me," she told him, shoulders shaking with every heartbreaking sob.
"Felicity, no," Oliver said, reaching out for her with his hand. Felicity flinched away from his touch and he paused, dread filling him. "You're not a monster. I didn't know you when I first met you, but you showed me who you are and you are not a killer."
Felicity looked up at him then, hesitantly. Through her tears, Oliver could still see some ferocity in her, but she seemed resolved too, tired. Perhaps she was too exhausted to fight back.
"Tell me the damn truth, Oliver," she said, her voice steady.
Oliver watched her and shook his head, "I am telling you the truth." He met her eyes once more. "You are not a monster and you are not a killer. What the Count did to you… He did that so that he could make you snap."
"He succeeded then, didn't he? He proved that I was just like the rest of the Master's minions," Felicity said, wiping at her cheeks. She felt as if her emotions were all over the place. Everything that she had been keeping in while she had been a wolf was slowly seeping out of her. She couldn't believe how she had managed to just turn everything off for a while.
Oliver moved forward and grabbed a hold of her shoulders, forcing her to look him in the eyes this time. "Stop," he told her. "Stop saying that when you know deep down it isn't true. You're nothing like them and you never will be. I had already shot the Count before you…" He trailed off momentarily as the images once more flooded his mind. "What happened, happened. We can't go back and change things, but you have to know that no one is blaming you for what happened," Oliver said and this time, Felicity did look directly into his eyes, searching. "Neither Diggle nor I blame you for what happened. Tommy doesn't either. Roy, Thea… They will understand when they learn the truth. Felicity, you were put in an impossible situation and pushed to do something that you would normally never do," he tried to remind her. His thumbs brushed over her skin where the shirt she was wearing had fallen off of her shoulder. "The fact that you are blaming yourself like this, for the death of that madman, just proves that you are nothing like them," he said gently and he could see that he was slowly breaking through.
Felicity eyed him, silent tears falling from the corners of her eyes. Finally, she dropped the dress she had been holding. It fell to the floor, by their feet. Felicity placed her hands on his chest in a moment of weakness, but then, when she realized what she was doing she pushed him back instead, trying to create some space between them. The move was weak, as if she was no longer trying.
"Stop looking at me like that," she said, voice broken.
Oliver breathed in harshly at the loss of contact, but he didn't approach her, no matter how much he wanted to just pull her into his arms again. "Like what?" he asked, his own voice wavering. "Felicity…" She flinched at the sound of her name falling from his lips, but Oliver refused to let this go. "Felicity, like what?" he repeated, this time stronger than before.
"Like I mean something more to you," she told him, needing him to understand. "Like we aren't just standing here today because I practically forced my way into your life. Like you want to pull me back and stop me from self-destructing. Like you…" Her words trailed off and she closed her eyes, inhaling a shaky breath. Oliver understood her doubts, but after everything… He didn't have any. He knew what he wanted; he knew who he wanted.
"Like I what?" he pressed, once again.
Felicity's eyes opened slowly and she turned to meet his gaze once more. She seemed hesitant, afraid to say what was on her mind but he needed her to say it because he could already feel it between them. Things had never been cleared.
"Like you… Like you love me," she whispered, blue eyes shining with tears even as she said the words she seemed afraid to utter.
Everything around him was spinning, it seemed. All the events that had occurred since he had met her replaying themselves in his brain as he focused on the only thing that mattered to him now; Felicity. He remained standing where he stood, not daring to close the distance between them.
"But I do," he finally confessed, chest soaring at the admission that he had kept inside of him for so long. His voice had been so quiet that he was sure that if she hadn't been a hybrid, she wouldn't have heard him. "I do, Felicity," he repeated, this time louder and more sure. "I do love you."
"But you can't," Felicity said, her voice cracking. Something inside of her soared, but she forced herself to push it down. She couldn't believe that he had said it. How could he love her, after what she had done? "What I've done, it's unforgivable. You can't-"
"You've forgiven me for everything that I've done," Oliver interrupted her. "You've given me a second chance even when I didn't deserve it and you've allowed me to be a better man. You didn't give up on me, and I'll never give up on you either, Felicity," he said. His entire body was humming, something inside of him tugging at his heartstrings, making him want to just walk up to her. He waited though, meeting her eyes as he tried to convey every emotion that he had ever felt in regards to the beautiful woman in front of him. "Felicity, I love you," he told her again, not being able to stop the words from coming out now that he had finally spoken them.
Another sob fell from Felicity's mouth, but this time, it was mixed with something else. Oliver wasn't sure who moved first, but before he could even register what was happening, her lips were on his and his fingers were tangled in her hair.
-§-
It started out slow, with just a press of their lips against one another. He didn't need a moment though, like he might have thought he would need. Instead, the second Felicity's lips brushed his, Oliver's hands raised, his fingers settling in her damp hair. For another second, it was nothing more than that; their lips pressed together and Oliver's fingers in her hair. The next, they began moving against one another, almost furiously.
Oliver's heart pounded in his chest, louder than it ever had before. Everything inside of him was screaming at him that this was right; that this was how it should be. Him and Felicity, Felicity and him; them.
Together.
Felicity shuddered when Oliver's hands untangled from her hair, falling to her back and going lower. The warmth of them came to rest on her hips and he pulled her a it closer so that her hips pressed against his. A gasp fell from her lips as Oliver's tongue sought out hers and Felicity found herself clutching his shirt in her hands, trying to pull him even closer. His scent was intoxicating; the leftover smell of his deodorant, the subtle hint of leather and him.
Oliver groaned into her mouth when she pressed against him. His skin felt warm, she was warm against him. Oliver's thumbs brushed tenderly over the skin under her shirt, but a part of him was still holding back. She might not be ready for anything else tonight. If this was a beginning, Oliver didn't need anything else. He would be damned though, if he let her think that he didn't love her. He had no doubts and he didn't want her to have them either.
Breaking the kiss, Felicity pressed her forehead against his chest, breathing in his scent again. One of Oliver's hands came up to the back of her neck, brushing the side of it comfortingly as his arm circled her. The embrace made her tremble against him and she shut her eyes tightly, suddenly overwhelmed. Oliver softly pulled back a little and Felicity tried to calm her breathing.
"Hey, hey… Felicity, look at me," he told her and she finally did. Her muscles were tense and guilt welled inside of her because she could feel her fangs pressing in her mouth, wanting to slip out. Oliver met her eyes, his hand cupping her cheek as he brushed his fingers against the blackened veins that surrounded her eyes. He remembered how she had looked when she had snapped at Count; her eyes were glowing now too, but he wasn't afraid. There was a crease between her eyebrows, as if she was trying to focus on not attacking him. Oliver decided to give her a moment, waiting her out.
The feeling of his thumb moving under her eye, as if he was trying to smooth out the veins that Felicity knew were there made her chest ache.
"I'm sorry," she said, remembering what had happened in Russia. He had pulled back from her then when she hadn't been able to control herself. What had happened after that, she had forgiven, but she still remembered the way she had felt when her loss of control had caused him to let her go. Even now, after his confession, a part of her was afraid that he might pull away again.
Oliver though, shook his head when she started to avert her eyes. "Don't," he said, cupping her cheeks to pull her attention back to him. Her pupils were dilated, heavy with arousal and something else. He knew that his eyes probably mirrored hers.
Felicity watched him, eyes shining golden still and Oliver looked at her lips, the way that they were slightly swollen, pink and wet. Slowly, he leaned down again, pressing another light kiss against them, savoring the moment. "You're so damn beautiful," he told her, his lips a hairsbreadth from hers, brushing against hers ever so lightly.
Meeting her eyes again, he saw how the golden hue slowly faded, the small ring of her iris returning to her blue shade. Her eyes shone back at him, almost in disbelief and a small sound that he couldn't quite place fell from her lips.
"I love you," she finally said, her voice choked. "Oliver, I love you."
Whatever it was that she had seen in his eyes when he had looked at her seemed to have convinced her. Pressing his forehead against hers, he took a hold of her hands. Closing their eyes, they stayed still for a moment, just breathing each other in. Then, Felicity tugged gently on his hand and Oliver followed her wordlessly back to her room.
It felt like a dream, a good one for once, and yet, it felt unlike anything he had ever experienced before. He was walking in a daze, but his mind had never been clearer.
They entered Felicity's bedroom and she stopped in front of the bed, looking down for a moment before facing him. Biting her lip, her eyes flashed gold for just a second, her hands moving to the hem of her shirt. Oliver watched, eyes darkening when she lifted the garment over her head, baring herself to him. Taking in the soft swell of her breasts, the way her nipples pebbled and how the corner of her mouth hesitantly lifted into a small smile, Oliver swallowed thickly.
Felicity hadn't known for sure if Oliver would want this tonight, but it felt right. They had waited for so long, letting everything around them stop them from the one thing that had always been present between them. She couldn't believe how long it had been; how long she had loved him and he had loved her, without saying a word about it.
Her momentary hesitation melted away when Oliver met her eyes and lifted his own shirt over his head, throwing it to the floor. Stepping closer, he reached out, his fingers brushing over her sternum, down to her taut stomach. She was so soft and yet not, lean muscles under her skin, showing her strength. Felicity's skin was so warm and he couldn't remember ever having felt someone so alive. It contradicted everything he had thought about her in the beginning, when they had met. Back then, a part of him had believed that she would be cold as ice. He had been proven wrong on so many occasions that he wasn't even sure why the warmth of her startled him now. There were scars on her skin too, he noticed. Small white lines that she had most likely acquired from her days as a wolf. His head fell forward, coming rest in the crook of her neck. His calloused fingertips moved over her stomach, touching the marks, memorizing them as he kissed her neck, suckling lightly at the soft skin there. Felicity's hands rose to the back of his head, fingernails scraping lightly against his nape, running through the short hair there. Having Felicity in his arms like this, her bare chest pressed against his, their hearts beating in union… He hadn't felt this way in a long time. In fact, he didn't think he had ever felt this way about anyone before.
"I'm not alone anymore, am I?" Felicity asked him and he realized she had been struggling to accept that just as much as he had. Yes, they had their other team members, but he knew what she was talking about. This wasn't about belonging in a family; this was about belonging to someone.
"You're not alone," Oliver confirmed, his chest expanding as he inhaled, "and you never will be." His lips ghosted over hers, but Felicity's hands found the waistband of his sweats, tugging on the strings, undoing the knot quickly. The speed of her movement made Oliver pause for just a second before he leaned down. Oliver chased her lips as she took a step back, and this time, she smiled when she lowered herself down on the bed, crawling backwards as she removed her sweatpants. Oliver got rid of his own quickly, the job made easier now that Felicity had undone the string. He climbed after her, following her onto the bed. He couldn't look away from her, not until he covered her body with his, their lips connecting once more. With only his boxers and her panties separating them, Oliver couldn't help but press against her. He was so hard that he couldn't even comprehend how he had gotten there so fast. It was Felicity, he was sure. She had some kind of hold over him that he couldn't understand. Inside his mind, he heard something whisper; an old memory that he had been afraid to ask her about. Now wasn't the time though, because Felicity's hands grasped his arms and he swallowed back a moan as she grinded back up against him. It was still too little. He needed to feel her.
"Felicity, are you sure…?" The words fell from his lips, mostly because he needed to know. Felicity pulled back from their kiss, blinking up at him. Her fingers brushed against his cheek and she sighed. "After everything… Do you really think I want to stop this now?" she asked. Then she paused for another moment, frowning. "Are you sure?" she questioned and Oliver couldn't help the light laughter that fell from his lips. Kissing her again, Oliver's chest felt light when Felicity smiled back against him, making it difficult to kiss her properly. Instead, he settled for trailing kisses down the side of her neck, moving down, following an invisible line. Tongue laving down her skin, he relished the taste of her, trying to commit it to memory. Making his way down her body, he pressed his lips against the waistband of her panties. Felicity's breath hitched and Oliver glanced up at her, holding her gaze as he slowly slid the material down her legs. Felicity bit her lip again to keep herself from moaning loudly, allowing him to move her legs up, bending them at the knees. Her legs fell open and Oliver didn't waste any time, taking a broad lick from her entrance to her clit, making Felicity gasp. His tongue laved at her and her wetness only served to make him impossibly harder. Felicity's fingers tangled in his hair, tugging almost painfully, making him groan against her. Felicity let out a low sound of protest and Oliver instantly pulled back, concerned eyes meeting hers.
"I, uh… No offense, but I really want you inside of me now," Felicity admitted, almost sheepishly. Her cheeks were flushed and Oliver's lips slowly spread into another grin. "Like, we'll have time for that later, right?" She seemed hesitant, pupils blown and Oliver couldn't help but press a light kiss to the inside of her thigh, his stubble scratching against her soft skin. His lips were still wet with her, and even though he had just gotten a taste of her, he swore to himself that they would have time for that later.
"You're right," he nodded, lips against her skin. "We have time."
"Did I ruin it?" Felicity asked. "Did I ruin the moment?" she clarified when he looked at her confusedly.
Oliver chuckled again, moving up, settling between her legs. He lowered himself enough so that she could feel his hardened arousal still covered by his boxers. "Trust me, you didn't ruin anything," he told her, grinning down at her.
Felicity shook her head in disbelief, but she couldn't help but smile back at him. Everything that she had been feeling before, all the worry she had held inside of her heart for so long… With Oliver close, it was a little bit easier to breathe again.
Oliver was startled when she pushed him and he suddenly found himself on his back. His hands gripped Felicity's hips when she straddled him, grinding down against his hardness and he bit back another moan. Reaching down, Felicity lifted herself up long enough to assist him in pulling down his boxers. Oliver kicked the offending garment the rest of the way off and this time, when Felicity settled against him, he could feel the heat and wetness of her covering him. She leaned down, her blonde hair tickling his skin as she pressed her lips against his.
"I love you," Oliver told her again, his hands on her bare back. He pushed himself up into a sitting position and Felicity adjusted herself accordingly, her arms winding around his neck, her bare chest against his. "I trust you," Oliver said, tilting his head to the side.
For a second, Felicity didn't understand what it was that he was saying. When she finally got it, her eyes widened.
"Oliver, you don't have to-" she started, but he quickly interrupted her.
"I want to," he said, sounding so sure of himself that she knew she shouldn't doubt him. "I want to do this again. With you. Only with you."
Felicity hesitated, but Oliver could see that a part of her wanted it too. They had only done it once and afterward, Felicity had admitted that he had been the first person she had ever done a blood exchange with. The emotions he had felt then, the way that everything had felt heightened about Felicity… He wanted to feel it again, but this time, he wanted them to be connected too; not only emotionally, but physically as well. He had to show her that she could do this, without hurting him.
"Not right away," Felicity finally said. "Soon."
Oliver searched her eyes, needing to know that she wasn't just saying that. He needed her to believe in herself like he believed in her. She held his gaze and Oliver knew that she was telling the truth. They would do the exchange again, he knew, and he trusted her.
Oliver nodded and then, Felicity reached down between them, grasping his hard cock in her hand. A sound that was a cross of a gasp and a moan fell from his lips when she started stroking him. He squeezed his eyes shut for just a moment to get himself under control, needing to focus so that he wouldn't blow his load and end this too quickly. He had always prided himself in having stamina, especially when he had been younger, but with Felicity, he could hardly tell what was up and what was down. She unwound him in ways that no one ever had before; made him learn not only about himself, but the world around him too.
His fingers gripped her hips tightly, "You need to stop that, before-"
"Okay," Felicity said, halting her movements, but not before brushing at the bead of cum that had gathered at the head of his cock. She kissed him again, stifling his groan, and the next thing he knew, she was positioning him at her entrance. Their mouths separated momentarily, breaths mingling as she lowered herself down, her wet heat surrounding him.
They stilled for a moment, mouths open and breaths slow. Drinking each other in, Oliver reached up, cupping Felicity's cheek and pulling her back down for a kiss. Tongues moving languidly against one another, Felicity slowly rocked forward and then moved in a slow, circular motion. She have herself some time to adjust to having Oliver inside of her, kissing him before she began moving again. Oliver's hands returned to her hips, fingers pressing into her skin as he guided her up and down his thick length.
"Oh," Felicity gasped against his mouth when he jerked his hips up into her and her name fell from his lips when she leaned back a bit. Her hands were on each side of his head, grasping the sheet as her hips rolled forward and he thrust back up into her. She gasped when he hit a certain spot and he repeated the motion, bringing her closer to the edge.
Her eyes flashed golden for a second and she pushed herself back a bit. Lifting her hand, Oliver watched as her claws extracted. Felicity pressed one of them against her neck, breaking the skin there, just like last time. Oliver pushed himself up so that he could sit, tongue darting out instantly as he lapped up the trail that a drop of blood had left when it started trickling down to her chest. Latching on to the small cut she had made, the taste of her blood filled his mouth, coppery but at the same time sweet, just as the previous time. He sucked slowly at her neck and in that moment, he remembered just why he had told Felicity that they shouldn't do this again. The intimacy, the closeness… He had been afraid of it before, but now, he craved it. Felicity continued to move against him. Heat rose inside of him, coiled tight and he knew he wouldn't be able to last much longer.
As he continued to suck at her skin, allowing her blood to intoxicate him, Felicity finally leaned down. Oliver felt her fangs scraping against his neck and he tilted his head a bit, trying to give her easier access. This time, when Felicity finally bit down, Oliver pulled back from her skin for just a moment so that he could let out the guttural moan that had been building in the back of his throat. He wasn't even sure how he managed it, but as Felicity slowed her movements, too focused on the taste of his blood, Oliver rolled them over. He latched on to her neck again, tongue laving at the small cut as Felicity continued to drink from him. His hips snapped against hers, pistoning into her as he pushed himself to respond to her wordless commands. She was everywhere, melting into him, surrounding him where they were joined yes, but also in his mind. It was as if he could hear her inside his head, singing his name, urging him to go faster, harder. Muscles wound tight before finally, everything around him seemed to explode. Pleasure ripped through his body and the intensity of his orgasm left his mind blank. All he could focus on was Felicity, who pulled back from his neck, meeting his eyes when her own mouth fell open in a wordless cry.
"Oliver." She said his name so softly, but it tore him back to reality unlike anything else, grounding him. He could feel her walls tightening around him, her fingernails, now human, scraping over his back as she panted against him. "Oh my God…" she breathed out, sweat beaded at her forehead. Oliver brushed her wet hair back, watching her as she licked at her lips that were still covered in his blood. He leaned down, nuzzling against her neck, her wound already healing. He could feel his own skin stitching itself up due to the blood he had taken from her. Oliver pressed his lips hotly against her throat, loving the feel of her pulse against his lips. He moved to her lips once more, tasting and licking into her mouth, wanting to devour her completely, like she had done to him. She had taken him, body and soul and he was hers. There was no other choice to make and there never would be, he knew. He didn't need anyone else, as long as he had her.
Softening inside of her, Oliver slowly pulled out. Felicity groaned at the loss of him and Oliver almost wished that he could have stayed inside her for just a little longer. Then, for a moment, worry filled him when he felt the stickiness between them and he remembered that they had been so wrapped up in one another that they had forgotten-
"It's fine, Oliver," Felicity interrupted his thoughts, her fingers running through his sweaty hair. "We'll be okay, I promise."
He decided to take her word for it, opting instead to lay his head against her bare chest, over her heart. He listened to it beating while their breathing evened out. Then, he sat back up and looked down at her sleepy smile. Oliver kissed her gently and stood up, walking off to the bathroom, not bothering to pull his clothes on.
Felicity appreciated the view, although she worried where he might be going. Surely, he wouldn't leave the apartment nude, although she wanted him close to her She needed him to be close to her.
Oliver returned quickly though, with a wet towel after cleaning his face from any excess blood and Felicity spread her legs, allowing him to clean her the best he could. Quickly discarding of the towel, he pulled the covers that had gathered at the end of the bed around them. Felicity turned on her side, facing him and Oliver reached out, their fingers interlacing between them as their legs tangled and he pulled her closer.
"I love you," he told her again, leaning forward so he could press his lips against her forehead. His heart was still beating hard in his chest, but the feeling of completion went beyond anything he had ever felt.
"I love you," Felicity repeated to him. She smiled a bit and Oliver could see that the pain that had been there before seemed to have faded just a little. "I'm yours, Oliver."
He pulled her hand against him, placing it over his heart so she could feel the truth in his words. A part of him was sure she didn't need it though, because there was something new between them; a connection that had been dormant, but that had finally broken free. It was almost as if her body was singing for him and he was able to pick up on everything that she was feeling too. The feeling was nearly overwhelming, but Oliver had never felt more at home. Still, he pressed her palm against his heart and returned the words to her, "And I am yours, Felicity."
Note: I'm just gonna go ahead and say feel free to comment. I hope you didn't hate it. Comments are motivation and I'm starting the next chapter with a bang (pun totally intended) if you're so kind to share your thoughts. A lot of things are happening in the next one too and I'm going to try to get it out within the next TWO weeks, because I have some assignments coming up in school. Once again, thank you for reading and supporting this story. I really hope you didn't hate the chapter. Best bits? I kind of liked exploring Oliver communicating with Felicity while she was a wolf. That was also meant to be the kind of funny scene. I dunno... I was tired when I wrote that! :P Okay, I'm rambling on because I'm nervous to hear your reactions. Thank you so much and feel free to come scream at me on twitter or tumblr! :D Until next time! xx
P.S. Always practice safe sex peeps. I feel like I needed to say that too. Oh, and don't worry about the implications of Oliver and Felicity not using protection this time around. That's definitely a discussion for the next chapter. :)
