A/N: Oh, Oliver.

*Occurs mid-chapter 24 of For Blue Skies. I realize I haven't been putting this info up and that is a dumb oversight. If it was easier for me to edit chapters without everyone receiving new notifications/updates, I would go back and edit all of them, but I am pretty sure that's how that works, and I'd hate to flood inboxes. I'll do it all when this story is done though! And I will try to be better about it going forward!

"Since when do you care?"

The words ricocheted around his mind, never leaving him, never going far.

If he was honest with himself, he knew she hadn't meant it like it sounded. Felicity was well aware that he cared about her. But she didn't know how much. She didn't know to what extent.

When he practically ran out of the hospital room, it wasn't because he was upset with Felicity, but he was upset with himself. He had let his emotions get the best of him and said things he couldn't take back. He had never meant to let some of those words escape his mouth. But he had.

He was more than upset with himself - he was furious.

He had no right to let loose on her like that. Had no right to put more undo pressure on her just because he was feeling stressed. He knew that it would pass, it always did. He knew that he could get a hold of himself if he just...tried. Or tried harder. Or something. He couldn't go off on her like that, not again.

He ran his hands over his face. He had told her about Thea. He had told her about Walter. He was such an idiot.

Last time he was angry at himself and had ran away from Felicity, he had wanted a fight. He had wanted to hit something or someone and he wanted that something to hit back. He had gone to Lance, looking for that fight. He didn't know if he was looking for that same fight now and worse, he didn't know if Lance would even indulge him in that. The man had taken a different role in the past few months if he was being honest with himself, and definitely in the last week or so.

Ever since Felicity had been admitted the man had been more like a father to him than a judgmental ex-girlfriend's father/detective/vigilante-hunter. Well, with a rap sheet like that, he knew that their relationship would never be normal, but Lance had gone above and beyond lately. He had been helpful and kind and had worked with him to guarantee Felicity's safety and happiness, which is all he ever could ask of the man. Of anyone, really.

So that ruled Lance out. And Dig and Roy had just witnessed him blowing up. Thea had enough on her plate. Not to mention, all these people would probably coddle him. They would tell him that it was okay for him to react in such a way. He didn't need that right now. He needed the truth. He needed brutal honesty, whether it hurt or not.

He needed his mother.

"Oliver? What are you doing here?" Moira Queen was surprised to see her son walking purposefully into the kitchen as she indulged in a late afternoon tea.

"I just needed - I needed to get out of there."

"Out of where, dear?" She put down the paper she had been holding and took in her son's haggard appearance. "Felicity is still in the hospital, is she not?"

"Yeah, she is. She will be there until she finishes her third round of chemotherapy."

"Why are you here? Not that I'm complaining, of course, it's just, I haven't seen you here for more than a few minutes when you grab more clothes for Felicity's place."

"Yes, I know, but…"

"Would you like to talk about it, Oliver?"

She reminded him so much of the younger Moira Queen he had known before the island. The loving, maternal woman who was always willing to listen to his exploits and calmly but rationally explain why he made those decisions or why he felt the way he was feeling. Sometimes she was off the mark and sometimes she was spot-on, but regardless, the conversations always made him feel so much better afterwards. He didn't answer her question, instead choosing to just lean against the kitchen island and start talking.

"I am trying so hard to do the right thing, but I feel like...I feel like I keep messing up."

"With Felicity?"

"With everyone. Thea, Walter, Roy, Dig."

"And Felicity," his mother supplied.

"Well, yeah, and Felicity." He sighed. "I can't tell her half the things that going on and it is building up too fast. Everything is spiraling out of control."

"Everything? Or just one thing?" He cocked his eyebrow. "Seems to me like it is only things with Felicity that are, as you put it, 'spiraling out of control.'"

"What is your problem, mom? Do you really hate Felicity that much? I'm trying to tell you -"

"And I'm trying to tell you that nothing is out of your control, don't you see that? You've spread yourself pretty thin these past few weeks, and it was all going to come to a head at some point. But you're not messing anything up, Oliver. Quite the opposite, in fact."

"How can you say that? I thought you were pissed that I let Walter take over things at QC? And Thea-"

"I may not have understood why you abandoned your post at QC in the beginning, but I do now. And Thea is doing a lot better than you seem to think. She's concerned with you, if you can believe it."

He couldn't believe his ears. On some level, he wanted his mother to corroborate his feelings. He thought he could count on her to agree, to say yes, he was screwing a lot of things up. And to tell him to get his life together, to get his family together, and to continue on, business as usual. He hadn't expected, well, anything that had come out of her mouth thus far.

"What are you...I don't think- I…" He spluttered incoherently, much to his mother's amusement.

"You were - are - scared for Felicity, Oliver. And you're allowed to be."

"Of course I'm scared, mom. But that doesn't excuse the way I'm handling other things in my life."

"What, like reassuring Walter? We may not still be married, but we do still talk on occasion. And him calling me to tell me how proud he is of my son is one such occasion."

"Proud?" He felt like he had been doing such a poor job of helping the man out, the man who was doing so much for him and his family.

"And Thea," she continued without acknowledging his echo, "I know you think that she isn't handling this very well, but the truth is, she understands a lot about this disease. And last weekend drove that home for her, yes. But she looks up to you for more than just strength. You keeping this facade up all the time isn't helping. She needs to know that it's okay to break down sometimes."

"Well, she just has to wait," he muttered. He felt the fissures and cracks begin, deep within him. Had today started the inevitable?

"You love Felicity."

He looked up sharply at that. He felt it best if he didn't say anything - not affirmative or negative - until she spoke more. He wasn't willing to give away anything at that moment.

"What? You do. You love Felicity, and you are scared for her, and you're doing what scared people do, which is lash out and look for other things to blame for their feelings. Hiding things from her, even if you know you shouldn't."

"It's complicated," he ground out.

Moira Queen smiled at that.

"I have no doubt it is more than a little complicated, dear. But you must not think much of her if this is how you're acting."

"Think...much? Why would you even suggest that?"

Of all the people in Starling City, hell, in the entire world, there was no one Oliver thought higher than Felicity. Even before she was going through this hell, she was strong, fierce, and a force to be reckoned with. Capable of so much more than she knew, Oliver had respected Felicity for a long time, and that had only been solidified in the past weeks.

"From everything you and other people have told me, Felicity is more than capable of managing both her life and your's. Why you suddenly feel as if she can't handle hearing a few things that may not be pleasant is beyond me."

Oliver felt the frustration course through his body. Of all the things he anticipated his mother saying - and they had really, truly run the gamut - this had never been a contender. He understood what she was saying logically but...but it wasn't that simple! Him holding things back from Felicity wasn't about undermining her strength and abilities, but it was to protect her. She was going through so much right now, it was his job to shelter her. To keep her safe. It was all he could do at this point.

"Oliver...Oliver?" He wasn't sure how long his mother had been calling his name but from the look of pure annoyance on her face, it had been longer than ideal. "Listen, it is as simple as this: do you think Felicity would be happy with you keeping things from her just to prevent her from getting upset?"

"No." At least that much he knew. That was a given.

"And I know that you would feel better being able to get this off your chest. I know I couldn't have been your first choice to come and speak to regarding this."

Well, she had, but not necessarily for great reasons, so Oliver wisely decided to keep his mouth shut.

"Talk to the girl, Oliver. You'll feel better, she'll feel better, and I can guarantee that everyone around you will feel better. I know...I know that I haven't been the most accepting of Felicity, but that has nothing to do with who she is as a person, you know that, right? And I certainly don't hate her. But my job first and foremost is to protect you."

"You don't need to protect me from Felicity," he scoffed. The idea was so absurd to him that he almost laughed aloud.

"Oliver...your feelings for the girl, should something happen - I know that you are doing everything in your power to make sure that they don't, but if this past week has shown us anything, it is that we can't control the universe. Sometimes things happen that we can't stop or fix."

"Your point?"

"No point," she shrugged elegantly, her fingers flipping the page on the forgotten newspaper in front of her. "I know now that I cannot protect you from something you don't deem dangerous." She finally picked up the paper, resuming her reading. "Go talk to the girl, Oliver. Tell her what's been on your mind. You'll feel better for it and so will she."

Feeling thoroughly dismissed, Oliver left the kitchen and let his feet carry him elsewhere while his mind wandered. He shouldn't have been surprised when he found himself standing in front of his father's grave.

He didn't necessarily want to talk to his father. He didn't particularly believe in the idea that people who had passed on could listen in when spoken to, but he did understand how cathartic talking to someone you love could be. It was different than when he had spoken to Felicity when she was unconscious - her body had been right in front of him, for one, and she was still breathing. She was still real. So no, right now, he just wanted to be alone with his thoughts that were now reeling thanks to his mother, and there was no place else in all of Starling City that was as peaceful and calm as Robert Queen's empty grave.

He knew she was right to tell him to talk to Felicity. He had known that before walking into his childhood home. He had never considered his reticence to be insulting to Felicity though, and that concept was whirling around in his brain. Everything he did, everything he said, was because he respected Felicity. Respected her as a person, respected her fight against this horrid disease. None of it stemmed from any sort of ill feeling towards her and yet, his mother did make a few good points.

When he had gotten her involved in Arrow business, he had no hesitation to involve her in things that were bigger than her. Things that could hurt her, or kill her, or change her entire perspective on the world. Everything he held back in regards to that was because he simply wasn't ready to share, or didn't know how. Now, this information that he chose to keep inside might hurt her a little, yes, but it held no bigger threat. And he wasn't withholding it because he wasn't ready to tell her, but because he thought she might not be able to handle it. He was trying to protect her, but his motives, his reasoning - what good was protecting her when it was undermining who she was? What good was sheltering her when it only made him feel worse inside?

He couldn't unthink those words, those ideas that his mother had planted inside of him.

He held his palms to his eyes, trying to stop his mind from repeating them, his eyes from seeing them over and over again, but it was no use. He had been undermining who Felicity was a person every time he chose to hold something back and deal with it himself. He hadn't mentioned the trouble Walter was having not because it could potentially hurt her, but because he wasn't sure if her mind would be able to process both that and the mental strain of undergoing another chemotherapy round. He didn't bring up the issue of her mother not knowing, an issue that had no other resolution but to be talked about, because he didn't want to see her shut down emotionally like she had a tendency to do when her mom was brought up.

He had been an utter and complete idiot and he didn't know what to do.

Did he go back to the hospital and lay it all on the line? Did he draft an e-mail and send it to her, business-like, trying to take the emotional aspect out of it completely? His complete and utter lack of preparation for this moment told him that returning to the hospital at that moment wasn't a great idea. If he could barely iterate the words in his head, he didn't think he'd fare much better in person with Felicity. No, he needed time to get his head around this.

He slumped against his father's headstone.

All the emotions from the past few hours left his body in an exodus and he felt so damn drained suddenly. He thought if he had a little bit more left in him that this would be the moment that he cried for the last week. That right here and right now, in the haze of an autumn afternoon, with privacy that could only be offered by the dead, that this would be the time that it all just came out. He hadn't truly cried since the night he first discovered her diagnosis, although there had been several close calls since then, but never the opportunity. He would not let himself cry in front of anyone, despite how archaic it sounded. He had never been prone to visceral reactions before, but of course, the one person that could always change Oliver was Felicity, and this was no exception.

He drew his knees up to his chest and let his head fall atop them, letting out a deep, long, shuddering breath.

Later. He would go to Felicity later. Right now, he needed to be by himself.

Up next - talks between SO MANY PEOPLE.