A/N: Hope you like this! Things are moving along! I have so many feels about things that are coming up!
Just a reminder if you're interested in Oliver's view on some things, I have a companion series called For Darker Days that you can go check out and Follow if you'd like! And once again, don't get used to this, but there will be another update to that after this chapter, since there is just SO much to see from Oliver's eyes during this critical stage!
Thanks! I think you are all wonderful!
Friday morning came way too quickly for Felicity Smoak's liking. She felt like the walking dead at 6 a.m. when the doorbell rang, signifying that Dig had come to pick her up.
She admitted to herself that it was possible she had overdone it the day before. The BC - Before Cancer - day that she had wanted, with absolutely no mention of cancer and activities of her choice. She was so focused on having a good time - and the fact that Oliver Queen was mini-golfing with her - that she refused to slow down or pause for anything.
Despite the horrible way that everyone found out, she was grateful that she wasn't alone in this anymore. Not to mention the little things that kept reminding her that she could only benefit from having the support structure she did. Dig had urged her to meet with a lawyer, which she had the previous morning, just to simply get things in order in case the worst happened. She hated thinking like that and told him so, but he insisted that just because she didn't want to think about it didn't mean it couldn't happen. It was one of those things she probably never would have thought of herself, but was grateful that she did it. She felt lighter somehow, as if it was one less thing on her plate.
Between that and the afternoon of fun she had insisted on, plus a dinner at Table Salt with Oliver, Dig, and Roy (Detective Lance had begged her to not make him come), and she felt like she had only gotten 5 minutes of sleep, not 6 hours.
She opened the door to find Dig and Oliver standing there on her step. If she didn't know better, she could have sworn she saw them subtly elbowing each other in an effort to be first at her door.
"Hi guys."
While she felt anything but, Oliver couldn't help but to see Felicity as beautiful in that moment. She was wearing loose black yoga pants and a plain purple v-neck tshirt, her hair down and looking slightly fluffy (she hadn't had time to straighten it completely) and her glasses were resting on the tip of her nose. She looked tired, yes, but also incredible, all at once.
"I just have to go and get my bag that I packed from my room-"
"I'll get it!" The two men spoke in tandem, and both tried to step into her living room at the same time. She couldn't decide whether to laugh at the absurdity of the situation, or cry because everything she didn't want happening - them treating her differently, her independence slowly fading away - was suddenly coming to pass.
"Or I will get it myself from my room and you two will stay here." Her tone didn't really leave much room for argument, and Oliver snapped his mouth shut and Dig nodded once. Felicity grinned once she was out of their sight in the hallway. Things were changing, yeah, but she could get used to them listening to her like this.
"Holy shit."
Detective Lance took the words right out of her mouth when they were shown to what would be Felicity's private room in the hospital whenever she had to do inpatient stays. The detective had met them in the waiting room, kissing Felicity on the cheek with a squeeze of her hand and grumbling a hello to Oliver and Dig, much to their consternation. After being checked in, a nurse had arrived to take them up to what Felicity had dubbed her 'new bedroom.' Except it was about three times the size of her current bedroom and had a much nicer TV.
She opted to sigh heavily instead of glare at Oliver; nothing she said at this point was going to change the situation, so she might as well get used to it. The room had a private full bath attached to it in addition to a fairly large couch, a table with four chairs around it, and what looked to be a folded up bed in the corner. There was a private waiting room down the hall as well, but Felicity couldn't figure out for the life of her who would choose to be out there. Everyone she knew in Starling could probably fit comfortably in this room.
She wandered to the window and pulled the curtains to the side and gasped. They were on a high floor, unsurprisingly, and the view of Starling was gorgeous as the sun rose over the high-rises to the east. The window itself took up the majority of the outside wall, and Dig went ahead and did her the favor of opening the curtains completely. Vibrant oranges and pinks chased away the dark blue of night and danced along the walls, bathing the room in a dim but beautiful glow.
"Holy shit," she echoed.
Once she got over the awkwardness of changing into a hospital gown in the bathroom and scooting to the bed so that no one would catch a glimpse of her plain yellow cotton panties through the gown, Felicity took a look around the room. Detective Lance was on the couch, a stack of magazines that hadn't been in the room previously next to him. He was flipping through the first one casually and she felt her heart swell at the sight of him. He had taken a whole day off to be here with her, despite the fact that she would be sedated for most of the day and not exactly the best company after that. Dig stood at the door, conversing quietly with two other men in suits who she presumed to be either her or Oliver's security detail. And Oliver had pulled a chair up next to the bed and had taken up vigil there, content to simply sit and stare at her with warm eyes.
"I know I said I thought scars were cool, but I don't think these are going to count," she joked weakly to him.
"They count."
"I'm not exactly fighting off gang members or evil villains."
"You're fighting for your life though. And these scars will be proof that you fought and that you won." He paused, wondering if it was the correct time for a joke. "If it helps, we can tell people it was a grenade."
The smile that took over Felicity's face let him know that he made the right choice.
"Promise?"
"I'm not promising they'll believe us, but we can try it out."
She wasn't sure what she preferred more - Oliver's attempt at humor, actually making her laugh, or the fact that he referred to them as an 'us' when he referenced the future. It just further solidified it in her mind that he wasn't going to be leaving anytime soon. He was in this with her.
"Knock knock," a voice from the door sounded and Felicity looked up to see a suited man - she thought his name might be Marcus - letting in Dr. Fox and a nurse to her room.
The nurse busied herself instantly, setting up the IV poles and taking her vitals, while Dr. Fox situated himself in the chair on the other side of her bed.
"Dr. Fox, I believe you've met Detective Lance and John Diggle before, but this is Oliver Queen." If Oliver squeezed his hand a bit tighter than he should have whilst shaking it, the good doctor didn't let on. He greeted everyone genially before taking a more serious approach with Felicity.
"We just have a few more things to hash out before we get you down to surgery." Felicity made the mistake of looking over to where the nurse was positioning her IV and had to fought the urge to gag at the sight of a needle in her skin. "That, actually, is one of the things we need to talk about."
"My IV?"
"Your reaction to the IV. Chemotherapy is going to make you feel nauseous on its own, and I don't really want you to help it along with your aversion to needles. Have you made a decision yet, regarding your options?"
She shook her head. She honestly hadn't, and she didn't like thinking about any of the options. They all made her feel queasy.
"What are the options…?" Oliver looked between her and the doctor, and Felicity nodded to let Dr. Fox know that it was okay to elaborate.
He quickly described the two choices she had in order to get her chemotherapy and blood drawn out of other veins in her body, not just her arms. He described the medicine as being very harsh on the smaller nerves and veins in the hand and arm, so they wanted to place either a central line - a line that connected a large vein in her chest, but left the tubing outside the body - or an implantable port - a receptacle under the skin connected to the same large vein - in order to prevent any vein damage that could be avoided. Felicity looked green at both prospects. The port would still involve needle sticks, but topical numbing solution to eliminate any pain, but the line would have tubes running in and out of her body at all times. There were no good options.
"Get the port, kid," Detective Lance commented from his place on the couch. "What? She's better with the pain than she is with seeing someone stick a needle in her. The port will be what, on her chest? She'll barely be able to see it. Get the port."
The detective was right; it was usually the visual of a needle going under her skin that made her feel sick, and it sounded like she would always see a little bit of that with the central lines. Plus, having to always have someone around to help flush it for her to keep it clean would only hamper any sense of independence she wanted to maintain.
"But I'll be able to see it, right? Under my skin?"
"It'll look a bit like a raised quarter but yes, you'll be able to see it."
"Kid."
Oliver felt more than a little out of place, unable to give any advice to Felicity while Lance was able to not only tell her which she should get, but make a convincing argument as well.
"I'm going to look like Frankenstein anyways," she muttered. "Let's do the port thing."
The doctor noted that on her chart and excused himself to prepare, assuring her that it wouldn't be much longer before she was whisked away.
"Hey, look at it this way," Oliver murmured, trying to lighten up the darkness that had spread across her face. "We can just tell people that it's part of the grenade under your skin."
He was successful at making her smile, and he held on to that feeling and decided to tell her some stories behind some of his scars. He tried to keep the stories light, never expanding on anything too deep, and always mindful of the listening ear of Detective Lance. Before he knew it, the nurse was coming in and introducing her to her anesthesiologist and getting ready to take her away. Her hand gripped his tightly and for the first time that morning, she didn't look tired or put out with the entire situation - she looked scared.
"Hey, we're gonna be right here when you get back, okay?" Oliver's thumb rhythmically stroked her knuckles, encouraging her to calm down. "Roy will be here too, and maybe even Thea if that's okay. We haven't told her yet, but you know she'd like to be here."
"You can tell her if you want. Could you...hold off on telling your mom?"
"Anything you want." He leaned down and brushed a kiss across her forehead and she had to blink fast to ensure that no tears fell out of her eyes.
"Go give 'em hell, Felicity," Dig spoke gruffly. "See you on the other side."
"I don't know why they're telling you to go fight anything," Lance said with a wry smile. "From where I'm sitting it looks like you get to take a nice long nap and then get pumped with morphine."
Felicity gave a watery laugh at that, nodding at the detective. Unspoken words between the two of them gave her the courage to give Oliver's hand one last squeeze. She could do this. She didn't have much of a choice, but she could still do it. No matter what.
They were told that it would be a 5-6 hour procedure, so the men settled in to wait. Detective Lance and his stack of magazines opted to relax silently on the couch, while Dig and Oliver discussed various aspects of the business in hushed tones by Felicity's empty bed.
Oliver felt like he was constantly on the phone, coordinating between the QC lawyers and Walter still, not to mention rescheduling meetings that he knew he wasn't going to make. He would be available at QC in the coming weeks, yes, but definitely not until Felicity had begun her treatments. On the one hand, he was happy for the distraction of taking calls and signing his position over to Walter, but other times he would look up, momentarily forgetting where he was. It was then that the reality of the situation would hit him hard and he would have to remind himself to breathe. He knew that he was making the right decision to stay with Felicity during all of this, that much had become clear to him.
After about 3 hours, the door crept open and Roy Harper stood in the doorway, peering inside of the room.
"This place is bigger than my apartment."
"Purse snatching business isn't keeping you in the lap of luxury?" Detective Lance inquired, but there was a small smile on his face, and Roy didn't take it to heart, just rolling his eyes at the older man.
"Tell your sister to give me a raise, man." Roy looked out the window. "This place is nice."
"This place probably cost more than Verdant. And it's also a hospital room."
Roy shrugged. "I think my place used to be a meth lab, but its still home. How long has Blondie been in surgery?"
"Three...almost four hours," Dig confirmed. "We've got at least another hour and a half, if not more."
"That's cool." Roy took out a book (titled Ablaze: The Story of the Heroes and the Victims of Chernobyl) and a tennis ball, and settled in on the couch, two cushions away from Lance. He started to bounce the ball against the couch, the dull noise echoing around the room.
"On that note," Oliver stood, grabbing his jacket. "Is Thea at the club?"
"Yeah, she was there when I left."
"I'm going to go tell her about Felicity. I'll be back as soon as I can."
"You sure, man?" Roy sat on the edge of the couch. "I could tell her if you wanted me to."
Oliver considered that briefly before dismissing his offer. "I think this is something I have to do. But thanks, kid." Dig had stood as well, but Oliver assured him that he would go by himself. If something detained him, he needed Dig to be there for Felicity. He couldn't explain why, couldn't make his mouth form the words that even his brain had a hard time formulating, but he just knew that Dig being here was what he needed to stay calm.
True to his word, Oliver was back only an hour later, and there had been no update on Felicity. He looked a little shaken, like the conversation had taken a toll on him, but a small shake of his head told Dig that he wasn't up for talking about it.
Two hours after that, and Oliver was about to lose his mind.
"Sit down, kid, you're making me nervous."
Lance wasn't in any better shape than Oliver, but the CEO's pacing across the room, from the window to the door, was grating on his frayed nerves. Roy, who was sitting on the floor now, his back resting against the window, couldn't help but to smile and shake his head.
"What?" Oliver selfishly hoped that Roy would say something crude and tactless that he could get angry at.
"Nothing. It's just nice to see someone else be called 'kid' for a change."
It wasn't the response Oliver had hoped for, but he still opened his mouth to challenge the boy when a heavy hand fell on his shoulder.
"Let's take a walk," Dig commanded in his soft but firm voice. He led him out of the room and down the hall, pausing in the vacant waiting room. They still had a clear view of the door and the hall, should anyone come with news of Felicity.
"Why haven't they told us anything?" Oliver asked plainly. He didn't even try to hide his anxiety, he just knew that he needed to know something. Anything. "It's been over 7 hours. They said maybe 6."
"I don't know, man, but you prowling around the room and looking like you're going to arrow the shift nurses isn't helping anything, and it's certainly not going to get Felicity out of surgery sooner. So just hold it together for a little while longer."
"I feel like…" He couldn't find the words again, a frustratingly common theme for Oliver that day.
"I know. Me too."
Oliver didn't doubt that the large man in front of him was similarly nervous and scared for Felicity. But it was this something else, this new feeling that had been burgeoning in his chest all day that he found himself hoping Dig didn't share with him.
It was a 'what if' type of feeling, which Oliver actively avoided in any aspect of his life. He lived his life from one day to the next, guided by his morals and his mission, and, more recently, Diggle and Felicity and Sara and Roy. He didn't - couldn't - focus on regrets, because they would only bog him down and turn him into something that he didn't want to be. But this 'what if' had been bothering him all day, ever since they took Felicity away from him that morning.
What if he never got a chance to tell Felicity all of the things that he had assumed he would have time to tell her? He never told her how proud he was of her, or how amazing he thought she was, or how she had truly saved him in more ways than he thought he deserved or even needed. And now, approaching 8 hours later, and he could only think about all these words he never said and she never got to listen to. And he thought of all the words she never said. too. All the nonsensical babbling and innuendos and pithy jokes that he hadn't heard yet - those were the things he craved. That was what he needed. He needed Felicity in that moment, and there was nothing he could do to get her, and it was driving him mad.
He spent another twenty minutes in the waiting room with Dig, calming his own thoughts and fears. It was only when he saw the familiar shape of Dr. Fox walking off the elevator at the far end of the hall that he moved, his long legs carrying him to the door of Felicity's room almost instantly. He held the door open for the doctor, whose face was giving nothing away. All the anxiety he had worked so hard to push aside came rushing back at once. This was it. This was the first hurdle in getting Felicity better. As Dr. Fox opened his mouth to speak, Oliver was only slightly aware of how close the four men in the room had gotten, crowding around the doctor, desperate to hear the news he brought.