A/N: Hi all! Hope you enjoy this next segment of For Darker Days! I go on vacation with my family to the Outer Banks on Sunday, so again - while I don't anticipate any posting delays, just know that sometimes life catches up with me/I drink a lot of wine and that could result in a day or so delay. I still have so much of this story to tell! Can't wait for you to read everything that is coming.

As for this chapter, well - it's heavy.

This takes place mid chapter 31 of For Blue Skies

"Please? Now?"

He had no choice but to silently reach over and open the top drawer on her nightstand, grabbing a pair of earplugs from the jar inside. She held her hand out, waiting, but he couldn't just...he didn't want to leave it like that. With her thinking that he didn't care, that he was eager to go back to the others and leave her. So he did the only thing he could think of, which was to take each foamy earplug between his palms and roll it tightly and gently insert them into her ears. He thought maybe she'd appreciate the gesture, to see the words behind it, but when he saw her shoulders jerk up with the unmistakable sound of her breath catching, he felt his heart sink. She was crying.

He dejectedly rolled his chair back to the table, where the others were watching with all-seeing eyes.

"She okay?" Lance asked first, jerking his head towards Felicity's body which was doing a horrible job of hiding the fact that she was crying.

"Second day usually isn't this rough but...but maybe it was a mistake having everyone here at once."

"Ah." Sara was the first one to understand exactly what the issue was.

"Are we really being that loud?" Roy asked, confused. He thought they were doing a good job keeping quiet, their voices rarely going above a whisper.

"No, no, it's not that it's - I think she's upset that she can't be over here with us."

"Oh." Roy looked so sad in that moment, Oliver actually saw the 'kicked puppy' look that Felicity had accused the kid of having. "I wish she felt better."

"Me too. I think everyone talking and laughing it's just...really driving home how sick she is in comparison to us."

"Plus," Sara added, "I know this is my first time here during all this but...I assume you all don't usually sit around a table and talk without her."

"She's right," Diggle nodded. "We all come here to support Felicity and we're pretty much just ignoring her today."

"But what can we do?" Roy looked physically pained at the idea of not helping the girl he looked up to like a big sister.

"There's not much we can do today, until she starts feeling better," Oliver told him regretfully.

"What we can do," Lance stood, clapping Roy on the shoulder, "is not make her feel left out in her own hospital room."

Roy looked to Oliver for confirmation, who only offered him a single nod. He hated this, hated sending everyone home when they were just trying to do the right thing, but it was the best thing at that moment for Felicity, so he had to.

"See you tomorrow then." Diggle stood as well, casting a look at Felicity, but not willing to disturb the girl. "Take care of her."

"I second that," Lance growled. "Sara, you coming?"

"I'm gonna - if Ollie doesn't mind, I just - can I stay a bit longer? We don't have to talk or anything."

"Sure." He sensed that this was just as much as for Sara as it was for Felicity, and he wouldn't mind the company while Felicity slept and he thought of every wrong move he had made that day.

And they were in silence, for the most part. For the first hour or so, Sara sat quietly on the couch as Oliver moved about the room, looking completely comfortable in the foreign surroundings. He focused on tidying up, gathering up stray magazines that had ended up around the room, unnecessarily sanitizing everything that someone could have touched, things of that nature. Finally, when he was about to take a sanitizing wipe to the table again, Sara spoke up.

"I'm pretty sure that's the cleanest table in the hospital, Ollie."

He stopped in his tracks, looking abashed. Yeah, he definitely didn't need to wipe that down for the fifth time.

He took a seat next to Sara on the couch, both of them staring across the room at Felicity, who had finally fallen asleep.

"She's mad at me," he told her quietly. It had been a long time since he had talked so candidly about his feelings, but he and Sara did share a bond unlike any other.

"No, she's not."

"You didn't hear her. She's never - she's never turned away from me like that."

"Felicity Smoak has never been mad at you, Ollie, and I don't think she'd start now. She's been frustrated, or annoyed, or confused by you, but never mad."

"I'd be mad at me."

"Well, you're an idiot."

"Hey!"

"I'm just saying. She's smarter than that. She's better than us. All of us."

"You're not wrong." He sighed, resting his head in his hands. "I am an idiot. I bring all these people here and then I - I ignore her? Who does that?"

"You didn't ignore her. But I think you were right, before. She has to see all of her healthy friends together, talking, while she feels like crap nearby, too sick to even participate. That can't feel good." She paused, wondering if this was the right time for her next question, but plunged ahead, true Sara-style. "What are you two doing?"

He didn't even pretend to not know what she was referring to.

"I don't know. She...she lets me in sometimes, lets all of it in, she pulls me in, and then - I don't know. Something happens. It's like she remembers something that I don't, and pulls back. Short of me professing my undying love to her, I'm running out of ideas."

"Well that way sounds promising."

"Sara."

"Sorry, I know. But why don't you just tell her how you feel? It's obvious to everyone, and even she is a little aware of it, if not completely."

"It's not...I don't want her to always wonder if I said things out of pity, or fear. Besides, she's got so much on her plate right now, sometimes I think its for the best if we just keep going like this."

"Yeah, seems like it's really working out for everyone."

He rolled his eyes and stood, effectively ending the conversation. He pulled out his wallet, peeling back a few bills before offering them to Sara.

"Why don't you go get us something to eat? If you don't want something from the cafeteria, there's a salad shop across the street that's pretty good. The smell shouldn't wake her, either."

"No problem. And are you sure you don't mind me being here?"

He smirked sadly. "There's a chance she'll want to see you more than me when she wakes up." Sensing that she was about to make a comment in an effort to cheer him up, he shook his head. "It's fine. Go."

"I'll even sleep in the chair tonight if you want the co-"

"No!" His eyes darted quickly to the bed to see if his sharp tone had woken Felicity up, but her chest still rose rhythmically. "Couch is all yours. I sleep in the chair."

"On purpose?"

"Grilled chicken on my salad."

And that was that.

Oliver shifted for the millionth time in the reclined chair next to Felicity's bed and he was acutely aware of Sara being conscious as well, although she remained silent. Felicity was tossing and turning almost constantly, even muttering every now and then, and while he knew this was probably more psychological than physiological, he was still on high alert. Which was why he wasn't entirely surprised when she barely lifted her head off the side of the bed and got sick on the floor.

He was instantly in motion, grabbing the kidney dish next to him and easing her up into a sitting position, the dish in her hands now, knowing that she had an easier time breathing when she was sitting straight up versus lying down.

He leaned back with one hand, keeping his other on Felicity at all times, and grabbed a pair of double-strength latex gloves out of the box, using his teeth to help him pull them on. He leaned around her back and found the call button for nurses, hitting it twice in quick succession to signify that he needed immediate assistance. They were prompt as ever and took in the scene before them with stoic professionalism, spurred into action quickly.

He just focused on rubbing her back soothingly, like his mother used to do for him when he was a small child and getting sick. He didn't think it helped much physically, but he remembered the first time he had gotten ill on the island and how badly he wanted his mother there with him then, her hand on his back, her presence calming. He was trying to offer that same emotional reassurance to Felicity now. As she turned and cried into him, he realized that he clearly wasn't doing that great of a job at that if she hadn't stopped crying since he began.

He did the only thing he knew how to at that moment, which was to hold her tight and whisper to her, trying to keep her from getting too worked up.

It hurt him to see her like this. He was already battling his emotions from when she first latched on to him, and then when she opened her mouth...god. It chipped away at his very soul to hear the defeated words coming out of her.

"I'm so sorry...I don't want any of this. I just want to stop being sick! I don't want to feel like this anymore! I'm sorry!"

He had no words for her then. No words of comfort or love or - or anything. He wanted her to stop being sick too. He wanted her to not feel like this either. He wanted to take it all away, to make everything better, to do what he was made to do. He was supposed to save the city, but he couldn't even save her from this pain. He felt like a failure in every single sense of the word.

It was all he could to open his mouth and apologize, but even that didn't come out right.

"I know, I know, I'm sorry. I want to - I want it to stop too, but you've got to be strong. You've got to get through this, okay? You're gonna be halfway done after all of this, you hear me? That's….that's so good, Felicity. I'm so proud of you."

Words didn't do his emotions justice. He was more than proud of her, he was in awe with her strength and dedication and her sheer will to live. Every time that he saw her wince with the pain of a lumbar puncture, or smile through a bland meal because her mouth hurt too much to have anything else, every time he saw her fight, he fell a little bit more in love with her. He knew Felicity didn't see herself as strong, but it was hard for him to see her as anything but.

"I don't think I can do it," she sobbed against his chest.

He felt the first of the tears slip down his face and he looked upwards, trying to borrow just a little of that strength from her to be able to say what he needed to. If she didn't fight - more tears fell from his eyes and he swallowed hard. He couldn't think like that. Not right now. There was plenty of time for that later, when she was better, when she was...he almost thought the word 'whole,' but stopped himself. She was more than whole now, she was...she was everything.

"Yes, you can. I know you can. And I know you will-" The words tripped out of his mouth, his brain hardly able to keep up with them as he just knew he had to say something to make her see, but she interrupted him.

"I'm so fucking tired, Oliver, I don't know…"

Tired, tired, that was something he could work with! He could help her with that, he could - he would.

"Rest, rest, you need to rest." He started moving her pillows back into position, tossing one that had a little sickness on it to the ground, fluffing another one up for her.

And then, oh god, his heart broke just a little bit further when he heard her apologize for yelling at him earlier. As if that was remotely close to her almost strong words she had used towards him. He was pretty sure she had said 'please' when asking for the earplugs.

He didn't know exactly what he was saying, even as the words left his mouth. And then suddenly, he was kicking his shoes off (custom slippers that he preferred to wear around the room at night instead of his socks) and climbing into the bed with her. As he leaned down to make sure the blanket covered her in its entirety, the quilt almost fell out of his hands.

His eyes met Sara's in the dark.

She was standing by the couch, watching quietly and patiently and Oliver could not believe that he had genuinely forgotten she was even in the room with him still. His faltering was so brief that Felicity didn't notice, and she snuggled into the blankets, slowly allowing herself to relax. Oliver darted his eyes to the door and held up a finger to indicate to Sara that he wanted to speak to her outside the room, but only after Felicity fell asleep. He knew she'd be able to understand and she silently excused herself, with Felicity none the wiser.

He quickly peeled the gloves off his hand before he wrapped his arms around her, savoring the closeness in a way that wasn't even sexual, which was a nice change for him. He slipped his hand under her shirt, softly stroking her stomach, knowing the pain she must be in after hearing her recount the stabbing sensation to Dr. Fox after the first chemotherapy session. The doctor had nodded and listened but had told her that unfortunately, that was a very common side effect with chemotherapy, and that it would probably accompany every session if she was already experiencing it. She had never mentioned it again, probably not wanting to complain, Oliver figured, but he was always hyper-aware of anytime she grabbed her abdomen or winced at a bad cramp.

It took her a very short time to fall into a heavy sleep; Oliver assumed that she had worked herself up so hard crying that her body was just utterly exhausted at that point. He clumsily got out of the bed, far less graceful than he had anticipated, but his body was running on very little sleep as well and he had just expended more energy on his emotions than he had in a very long time.

Casting one last glance at Felicity, he opened the door and quietly shut it behind him. Sara stood beside Ballard, who was on night duty ever since Felicity mentioned that she preferred Marcus to be on days with her since he actually spoke. Sara mirrored the man's pose and with her all black ensemble and expressionless face, she looked more like a paid security agent than she did like a friend visiting at that moment.

Oliver walked down the hall to the small waiting area, confident that Sara was following him even if he hadn't asked her to.

"You can still stay, if you want to," he started off, but she was already shaking her head.

"Not a chance that she'll be looking for me and not you when she wakes up. I'll head out." Her face didn't change but she shifted her weight from one foot to the other repeatedly, a sure sign that she was nervous. "I had no i- is it always like that?"

"Usually she makes it into the bowl," he deadpanned.

"You know what I mean. She said it was bad, but…"

"Her getting sick wasn't that out of the ordinary, no."

"Not just that, Ollie. I mean that she...she sounded so defeated. I've never heard her sound that way before. And you didn't look like you had either."

"It's been," he cleared his throat to force the emotions back where they came from, "it's been a while. Not since her first chemo."

"What do we do?" Her voice was tiny and her eyes wouldn't meet his. She was afraid.

The million dollar question, Oliver mused. He wanted to scream, right then and there. What do we do? He had no fucking idea what to do. He never did. He was just as blind as everyone else and he wished to dear god that they would all stop looking to him for answers, like he was somehow more knowledgeable than any of them. He read a lot on the disease, sure, but that was just facts. Numbers and words and letters and none of it meant a damn when it came to Felicity because how the fuck was he supposed to know what to do? He didn't know what to do to take care of her or what to say when she cried or how to even hold her when she was upset. He was just as stupid clueless as everyone else, but no one could see that.

No one could ever fucking see that.

"We're there for her," he finally said. "When she needs us, we're there. That's all we can do."

"You make it sound so simple."

He waited for her to look up, to lock eyes with him, before asking his next question. A question only people like them, people who had been through what they had been through and done the things that they have done, would be able to answer truthfully.

"Is there anything you wouldn't do for Felicity?"

He watched all the emotions and feelings flick across her face with a sick sense of familiarity. He knew these. He knew the steely resolve combined with the barely-there wince of pain and remembrance as she thought back on things that she had done, often times for much less dire circumstances. Things that she had enjoyed doing. Things that she hadn't. Things she wished that she could forget, but she knew only made her into a stronger person.

"No." Her answer was strong and clear. They both knew that there was absolutely nothing in this world, no task, no heinous deed, no unfathomable act that they wouldn't commit if it would help Felicity right now.

"We'll do what she needs us to do, Sara. And right now, she needs us to be here for her." His eyes drifted down the hall to her door, his body pulsing with the need to see her, to touch her, to make sure that she was still breathing, still existing.

"Go," Sara told him. "I'll see you tomorrow."

He gave the door another longing glance before turning to the woman in front of him. "About tomorrow…"

"I'll tell the others to give you guys some space. The next day, then."

"Thank you, Sara."

They began walking down the hall, back to her room. Before he went inside, her strong fingers gripped his arm right below his elbow. He looked at her curiously.

"It's been a long time since I've seen you cry, Oliver Queen."

He had a few glib responses on the tip of his tongue. A few 'don't get used to it'-esque remarks, or a 'had to happen sometime' could have just as easily slipped out, especially in front of Ballard, who was steadfastly ignoring the two, but unable to tune out the conversation completely. Instead, he found himself going for the honest answer once more, an option he had thought he had all but forsaken in his new life in Starling City.

"Nothing I wouldn't do for her, right?"

And he entered the room once more.