"Your heart is full of broken dreams, just a fading memory
And everything's gone, but the pain carries on.
Lost in the rain again, when will it ever end?"
-Red, "Not Alone"

Felicity Smoak still missed the late morning wake-up that her job at Tech Jungle had allowed. Waking up at seven every morning, after staying out until midnight or later assisting Oliver, was a bit of a challenge. As a result, her mornings were always a little rushed. Since taking Ray Palmer's job offer, she had begun listening to the news in the back ground as she got ready for the day. She missed the simple luxury of sitting down to watch the news with a cup of coffee, but there simply wasn't time for that any more. She was brushing her teeth, listening to a soft morning rain fall on the tiled roof of her townhouse, when she heard the newscaster segue into a story about the Queen's Gambit.

"In other news, today marks the seven year anniversary of the sinking of the Queen's Gambit." Felicity found herself in the living room, staring at the TV as a picture of the yacht flashed on screen, followed by a picture of Oliver and his father. "Robert Queen, his son Oliver, and five other individuals, including Sara Lance, were believed to have died in the sinking of the yacht. Miraculously, Oliver Queen returned to Starling City five years after the yacht sank, having survived on an island in the South China Sea. Ms. Lance also returned to Starling City the following year, although her return was less public than Queen's, who has always been a publicity hound." The footage switched to their favorite collection of what she liked to think of as "The Best of Ollie Queen." Her tooth brush still hung from her mouth, forgotten for the moment. "The Queens, once a staple among the Starling City elite, have fallen on hard times since Oliver Queen's return. Moira Queen admitted involvement in the conspiracy that resulted in the Starling City Quake in 2013, which leveled a portion of the city and killed over 500 people. Mrs. Queen stood trial, was acquitted, and subsequently ran for mayor. Thea Queen was kidnapped in a very public manner during a debate, and a few weeks later Moira Queen was murdered by Slade Wilson, the mastermind behind the May attack on Starling City, from which the city is still recovering. Oliver Queen lost control of his family's company and a large portion of his wealth, completing the family's fall from grace." Another picture of Robert Queen flashed on screen, this time with the dates of his birth and death. The camera panned back to the anchor's desk, and a small but beautiful woman raised her eyebrows. "I suppose it's fortunate Robert Queen isn't around to see what has become of his family legacy." Felicity felt anger well inside her, and immediately thought of Oliver, hoping that he hadn't seen this. The anchor turned to another camera, smiling brightly. "Now, to weather. It's going to be a rainy day, isn't it, Joan?"

Felicity turned the television off in disgust, grabbing her phone as she rushed to the bathroom to finish brushing her teeth. She hadn't seen much of Oliver since taking the new job at Queen Consolidated. They had spoken a few words here and there, aside from during ops, and there was a part of her that had been grateful for the respite. There was so much between them now, and it hurt to be close to him knowing that they couldn't move forward. But she also missed the quiet moments they used to share. He carried the weight of the world on his shoulders, and she worried that he once again felt that he had to carry everything alone. Three unanswered texts and two phone calls later, Felicity was knew something was wrong. She grabbed her tablet and pulled up his tracker, groaning when an error message appeared. The idiot had turned his tracker off. She grabbed her jacket and headed out into the rain.

xxx

He heard her behind him, even over the endless patter of the rain. He didn't turn around, though. Instead, he surveyed the harbor, beautiful in the menacing darkness of the storm. The heavy grey clouds hung low in the sky as they dropped an increasingly heavy rain, turning the water black despite the fact that it was only mid-morning. Lightening occasionally flashed in the distance, and thunder rumbled. The beautiful yachts stood like white sentries against the darkness, looking deceptively steady through the storm. He knew, of course, that they too would sink quickly and without warning.

He didn't know how long they stood there, but eventually she reached up and touched his shoulder as she came to stand beside him. She still didn't say anything though. That was one of the things that made her so special-she didn't demand answers when he couldn't give them. She was just as capable of waiting in silence as she was of filling the silence with nonsensical babbling. He should have known that she could find him. It seemed she always did. He felt grateful that she had, and angry at himself for feeling that way. It was better that she didn't care enough to look. But as the rain continued to fall, he was just so damn glad that he wasn't alone anymore.

When he finally spoke, it came out angrier than he had intended. His voice was deep and scratchy and closer to the Arrow's than his own. "Isn't Palmer expecting you?"

Her hand slid down in to his. "I called off, Oliver. You saw?" She talked carefully, quietly, as if speaking to a wounded animal. Which in a way, she was.

"How did you know I'd be here?" He asked, because it was easier than talking about the rest of it.

"Slade," she said. "You came here when you wanted to surrender to Slade." He closed his eyes, remembering how he had been so ready to give up, to turn himself over to end it. He hadn't thought about what it would mean for them when he did that...It had been the only solution he could think of at the time. But she and Dig hadn't let him, they had drugged him and taken him home and told him he couldn't give up the fight. They had brought Laurel in, and she had given him the piece of information that he needed to find the energy to continue fighting.

He nodded, using her hand to pull her closer, so that he could face her. She was soaking wet, her black rain jacket buttoned to the collar. Water flecked her glasses, but her clear blue eyes held his, compassion and worry filling them. He swallowed. "I had forgotten," he said softly. "Until I saw the story, I had forgotten that the anniversary was coming. Time ceased to matter once the Gambit went down. I wasnt even really aware of the date." He remembered what a relief it had been, telling her some of his secrets that night at dinner. Before the blood and the smoke and the pain. He had told her the worst of it and it hadn't changed the way she looked at him. But it had changed him, made him lighter. Less afraid. A little less buried under everything he carried. He wondered if it might help now, too.

"Just because you didn't remember the anniversary doesn't mean you don't remember him, that you don't honor him," she said slowly.

"Doesn't it?" He growled, looking down at her. "Because I have lost every damn thing, Felicity. Mom, Thea, the company. Its all gone. I couldn't protect them."

Her other hand came up and held his arm, applying pressure, letting him know he wasn't alone. "Oliver . . ."

He looked down at her, and he just let it out. "He shot himself in front of me," he said quickly. He watched her eyes widen, but he had to get it out before he changed his mind. "He told me he wasn't the man I thought he was, then he murdered the steward who was in the life raft with us. And then he told me to survive, and he killed himself." Her mouth fell open a bit at that, but he pushed on. "He killed himself, hoping that I would survive, and I have let every last bit of his legacy waste away."

"No," she said sharply, shaking her head. "You are his legacy Oliver. He didn't do that for the company, he did it for you." He noticed she didn't mention his mother or his sister...because what was there to say? They were gone. "You are still here, you are still making a difference in this city. He would be proud." She said it with such conviction, he had to remind himself she had never actually met his father. She held his gaze, as if trying to will him to believe what she said what was true. Eventually he looked away, and he felt the hand on his wrist drop away, though she continued to hold his hand in hers. A lifeline to the present-to all that was left in him that could be construed as good.

Oliver gazed back out over the harbor, introspective. He had spent a lot of time that morning remembering the days after his father died. All of the terrible little details that he had carried with him. For seven years, apparently. 2,555 days. More hours than he cared to calculate. He looked down at her again, but she was looking over the water, her thumb stroking across his hand. And DAMN IT ALL he wanted to tell her. He knew it wasn't fair, and he had already told her more than enough. It was selfish to want to share this, because it would be nothing but a burden to her. But christ, he wanted to tell her. He wanted to share that dark moment, that first loss, because at the time, it had seemed like it was as bad as it could possibly be.

So he told her. Gazing out over the harbor in the pouring rain, he told her about it all-swimming to the island from the raft. Finding the raft the following day, washed ashore with his father's body still inside. The putrid smell overwhelming him as he tried to scare the gulls away, and the horror as he realized that they had pecked away portions of his father's rotting skin. How he vomited on the beach before carrying his body to the hilltop, burying him under the rocks. How he had been so young and naive to think that was the worst thing that he would experience. Never knowing that it was only the beginning of the death that would haunt him. She never spoke, but he heard her sniff, and saw the faint movement as she wiped under her glasses. He knew that if he asked, she would say it was only the rain. He told her how, as he had placed the final rock and said his final goodbye, Yao Fei's arrow had found his shoulder, giving him his first scar.

She turned to him them, her right hand still holding his left, and pressed her left hand over the huge circular scar on his right shoulder. Tears pooled in her eyes, and she stared up at him with conviction that he didn't feel he deserved. "You survived," she said again. "Just like he wanted you to, Oliver. He didn't want you to do everything, he just wanted you survive."

A small section of hair had fallen from her pony tail, dripping with rain. Against his better judgement, he reached up and gently swept it behind her ear. As he did so, he caught sight of the thin white scar just above her ear along her hairline, left by the shrapnel that had knocked her unconscious and spilled her blood on that night in early October. He caressed it with his thumb, watching as her eyes drifted closed. The memory of how she received that scar made him bite back the declaration that was ready to spill out of his lips. I love you. And he did. But he couldn't do that to her. Because next time it would be worse. "Thank you," he said. For coming. For believing.

"Always," she said, and the sincerity was far more than he deserved. "We should go. Dig will want to know that I found you and brought you back in one piece." With a gentle pull on the hand she still held, she pulled him toward his car. As the rain continued to fall, he realized he felt lighter.

He slept better that night than he had in a long while. He didn't know that across town, Felicity cried herself to sleep for the first time since she was 7. She hurt, because he had hurt alone for too long.

"I am here . . . I am with you.
I will carry you through it all.
I won't leave you, I will catch you
When you feel like letting go,

You are not alone.
I will be your home. (When you feel like its over)
I will pick you up. (When your whole world shatters)"