A/N: Okay, so we all got a nice reprieve with the last chapter of For Darker Days, but as with everything - all good things come to an end, and chemo is certainly the thing that is most likely to put an end to any good times/thoughts/feelings. I believe the chapter after this is ANOTHER For Darker Days, but then we won't have any of those for a while.
Read, enjoy/don't kill me. ;-*
"Hey there. It's nice seeing you when I wake up."
Felicity had just woke up from a nap; the anesthesia from the morning's procedures had worn off for the most part, but had a tendency to leave her groggy for the rest of the day. She had carefully turned on her back after her initial consciousness, hating sleeping on her stomach since it pressed uncomfortably on her implanted port, and the first thing she saw when she opened her eyes was Sara Lance, sitting in Oliver's lounge chair.
She wasn't even sure when he had switched it out - it had to have been back when she was first recovering from her splenectomy, but it was definitely a change for the better since she had yet to convince him to use the bed that still lay folded up in the corner, forgotten. It was a cushy recliner on wheels that allowed him to lay back almost fully to sleep in. It trumped any hospital standard chair by a lot.
"Hey there, Sleeping Beauty."
"You're sitting in Oliver's chair."
"Oh." Sara instantly stood, looking around for another option.
"No, no, it's fine, sit, sit. I'm still out of it is all." She hadn't meant for her to feel like she couldn't, she just...she said the first thing that came to her half-asleep mind. Which was that that particular chair, always beside her bed, was Oliver's. "Where is he?"
"He went to spar with Dig a while ago, but they should be back soon with dinner."
"Mmm, okay. Yay." She hadn't eaten when she woke up earlier that afternoon and food was definitely welcomed at that point. "I meant what I said. It's nice having you back. Sorry you couldn't make it yesterday. Oliver told me you had other plans."
"Oh, that. Yeah. I'm sorry too. It sounded like it was fun."
"So fun. But Oliver doesn't realize how much it's going to cost him. I want like, a bottle from there for every occasion from now on."
"Heard you two were pretty cozy there too…"
"You know, everyone there was kind of a blabbermouth, so I don't even know who to accuse of telling you. But yeah. It was nice. It was like I didn't have cancer for a day. And now it's back to normal."
"I heard there was hand holding, but I'll never give up my sources. And besides, who says that can't be your new normal? You and Oliver, I mean."
She groaned, knowing that this was where the conversation was going to go.
"Because tomorrow afternoon I start my fourth round of chemo and he's going to be rubbing my back as I yak up my insides violently, probably. If I'm lucky I won't get sick, but he'll still have to deal with everything else."
"What everything else?" Sara didn't want to dredge up any bad memories, she was just curious.
"Um, well, I sometimes get mouth sores. And I'm super sensitive to light. And I just feel like I have the world's worst migraines, plus I'm like, cranky times a million. I can't be any fun to be around, but he stays with me the first two days, doesn't even go to the office or the lair. Usually tries to make it to day three or four, if he can."
"He's a good guy, Felicity. I think if you let him, he could make you happy."
"He does make me happy. I just...I'm not going to let him get involved with someone who has cancer. Even if we hold hands or...whatever, its different. It just wouldn't be fair to him. And not in a 'Fault in Our Stars' kind of way - I don't know, Roy made me watch it - but in a...he's the Arrow kind of way. He's Oliver Queen kind of way. It's just...different."
"Well, I think his feelings for you aren't going to change just because you choose to keep him at arm's length...but I'm willing to let it go for now - again - because you're glaring at me."
"Thank you."
"You know, before I...before I came back, where I was...there was a woman with cancer."
"No way. Really?" Sara was pretty hush hush about her time with the League of Assassins, and if Felicity was honest, she didn't really push all that hard to get her to open up about it. Seemed pretty gruesome and she figured that if there was a reason Sara was keeping that all buried, then it was a good one.
"It was different, obviously. I don't even know what she had and we don't - we didn't use the same medicines that you're having. She was treated more holistically."
"So how did you even know she had cancer?"
"We did have doctors, Bug," she laughed. "We weren't completely secluded. We knew."
"So no chemotherapy?"
"No, we didn't have to watch her suffer through this."
"Thank goodness. I mean, not that it's not - I'm happy I'm getting treated it's just...sometimes I wonder what's harder: me enduring the treatment, or everyone else who has to watch me."
"Well, I wish we had tried harder for her. She died a few months into our own treatments," she elaborated, succinctly making Felicity regret all words that had just come out of her mouth.
"Not that chemotherapy doesn't have its benefits," she rushed to correct herself, but Sara just chuckled.
"I know what you meant, Bug. And I'll gladly watch anything that you have to go through to get yourself better from this."
"Gee, thanks."
"You know what I mean."
"Yeah, that you're excited to see me in pain. No, I get it, its cool. You couldn't get your fix from watching me die on the treadmill, so you're trying to get it in now. Fine. It's fine."
"Such a little shit." She stood up and made to leave.
"Wait, no, where are you going? I was kidding!"
"Ollie and Dig are back, Bug. I'm just getting things set up." Sure enough, she started clearing off the small table and just as she was pushing up the small tray table that extended from the side of Felicity's bed and propped up in front of her, Oliver and Dig walked into the room.
"No way did you know that. Did you time that? Did you have a GPS tracker installed on Oliver? Wait, no, is he wearing his boot?"
"She heard the elevator and took a guess, if I had to assume." Oliver walked over to her, placing a takeout container on the now-set-up table in front of her, taking care to raise the bed slowly so that she didn't jostle her spine too much and risk setting off a clot headache.
She could imagine a different scenario in a different world where Oliver said the same thing but then leaned down and placed a chaste kiss on her mouth. A world where he was her boyfriend instead of just her employer and friend, a world where they took care of each other instead of this one way street they seemed set upon. She had told Sara that they were different, she just hadn't been lucky enough to have meant it in that way.
"Please be quiet," Felicity gritted out. She was seldomly used to having multiple people with her while she was undergoing chemo, and right now there were just too many to be of any use to her. She knew she was irritable and miserable and cranky but the sound of their conversation, which they had been trying to keep to a whisper and had failed, was grating on her head.
It silenced abruptly at her words and she didn't have to open her eyes to see the guilt that she knew would be splashed all over their faces. It was a full house today, on her second day of treatment, with Detective Lance, Sara, Oliver, Dig, and Roy there in the room with her. The worst part about her frustration with their presence was that she wasn't entirely sure what about it was bothering her so much.
Yes, the noise was getting a little bit loud, but it wasn't as bad as it could have been. If she was being honest with herself - something she found she rarely practiced these days - she was more frustrated with the fact that for the first time since this all began, she felt like they were there for each other more than they were for her. Oliver wasn't even next to her currently, his chair had rolled over to the table where everyone else was sitting. He had done so initially just to comment on the topic they were discussing and not have to yell his thoughts across the room, but he had stayed when they engaged him more and had yet to return to her side, at least an hour later. She knew she was being childish, but that simple act alone hurt.
All she had ever wanted was for all the important people in her life to get along and spend time together and now that they were, she was getting all mad about it. She was ridiculous and she knew it.
She heard Oliver's chair's wheels sliding towards her and she felt the air around her change as his presence got closer.
"You okay?"
"I'm fine."
"Do you need anything?"
Again, her eyes being open weren't necessary to know that he felt bad about forgetting her or whatever it was that had happened for that hour, but she didn't feel the need to help him out.
"No." Her eyes opened at that. "Wait, yes."
"What can I get you?" He looked relieved that he was about to be able to actually help.
"I have earplugs in my nightstand. Can you get me them? Then you can go back to your conversation."
"Felic-"
"Please? Now?"
She had to work to keep the hurt out of her voice, trying to instead remain clinical and detached. Yeah, she'd probably feel the shame of the impetuousness of her actions later, but right then and now, all she wanted was to not have to deal with any of that. She didn't want to think about the look on Oliver's face or the fact that everyone was definitely listening to her being a bitch to him, she just wanted to zone out and feel miserable by herself, drowning in the self pity that always threatened to take over. Looked like it was finally getting its wish.
She held her hand out for the earplugs, her eyes shut tight again, warding off the headache and nausea she felt. She wiggled her fingers impatiently, but her eyes shot open when she didn't feel anything in her hand, but instead Oliver was gently cradling her face, positioning the earplug inside her ear that wasn't currently against the pillow.
He used two fingers to coerce her to turn her head to the other side and repeated the action. She was more than a little grateful that she was now facing away from him, towards most of her machines and the wall, so that he wouldn't see the tears that were streaming down her face. Of course, hiding her face only did so much, and there was no way Oliver Queen was going to miss the slight shudder of her shoulders as she forced herself to keep quiet.
He rubbed her back lightly, before she felt the vibration of the chair wheels softly recede once again towards the table.
Just when she thought she couldn't feel worse.
The ear plugs did their job and she didn't hear any more talking that night. She didn't hear anyone leave, either, and the fact that they were giving her the space she knew she had pretty much demanded weighed heavily on her. She got what she wanted; why did it feel so sucky?
She had no right to be upset with everyone for conversing without her. She wasn't the best company, she knew, and if they could actually smile and be happy while she was there, well, wasn't that what she really wanted? For everyone to not be drowning in misery just because of her diagnosis?
But why did it have to happen when she was going through chemotherapy? Why did it have to happen without her?
She fell into a fitful sleep, tossing and turning, unable to get comfortable with the lingering nausea and general sense of malcontent in her own mind. Her anxiety over her own feelings built, and she wasn't all that surprised when she suddenly opened her eyes and leaned over the side of the bed and expelled what little lunch she had managed to get down earlier that day.
It was unintentional, of course, and she was just grateful that it had been on the side that is opposite of where Oliver sat, but that didn't stop the tears from falling, once again.
She felt hands on her shoulders sitting her back up and the familiar weight and shape of the kidney dish being pressed into her hands as she focused on not getting sick again. A minute later and the bed sank beside her and what she knew to be Oliver's hands rubbing a slow, rhythmic pattern on her back. She cracked open an eye and saw two nurses working diligently to clean up the mess she made, the smell of industrial strength cleaners reaching her nostrils and making her retch again.
"I'm sorry," she cried after she was finished, relinquishing the dish to a nurse and turning her head into Oliver's chest. His arms instantly ensconced her and held her tightly to him as she sobbed into his chest.
He hushed her gently, the stroking on her back never faltering or stopping, just slowly calming her down. When she finally felt like she could speak, the tears were still flowing quickly, but her breathing had finally regulated. She didn't remove her face from his chest, not wanting to see his reaction.
"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!"
"I know, I know, I'm sorry." Oliver's hand finally halted on her back and he was now rocking them slowly. His own words were thick with tears, hating to see her in this much pain. "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."
Those words only served to make her cry harder. She didn't feel like someone that anyone should be proud of, least of all Oliver Queen.
"I don't think I can do it." Her words were muffled by her own breathing and Oliver's shirt, but they were loud and clear to all listening.
"Yes, you can. I know you can. And I know you will-"
"I'm so fucking tired, Oliver, I don't know…"
"Rest, rest, you need to rest."
Her body was shaking ever so slightly, from the inside out it felt like. That, coupled with the always familiar pain in her abdomen - a combination of indigestion and extreme hunger, not to mention the strain it had just gone through - and her arms were always wrapped tightly around her, as if that would somehow stymie the pain.
She knew Oliver was just trying to help, that he thought if she just relaxed that somehow this would be better, but she didn't feel very relaxed, and everything hurt and she didn't want him to leave and that just made her cry harder.
"I want to, I just - don't leave, please, I'm sorry about yelling at you-"
"Shh, shh, hey, you don't have to apologize for anything, okay? I'm not going anywhere. Let's just lie down a bit, hmm? How's that sound?"
And then, in a move that surprised both of them, he kicked off his loafers and scooted into bed with her. He positioned her gently on her left side (he knew that she didn't like resting on the side with the port implanted) and he untucked the blanket around their feet and slid it up over them as he relaxed behind her. He hesitantly maneuvered her wires and tubes to rest of her shoulder and between the two of them and was careful that he didn't lie on them unintentionally. He found her hands, still tightly clasped around her stomach, and he slipped his own right underneath them, even nudging her loose MIT shirt up a bit and resting it against her warm, bare skin.
It wasn't overtly sexual in that moment, either. It wasn't Oliver trying to feel Felicity up, and for the first time, her body didn't even register the possible undertones there. Instead, she just felt...loved. Like he was there for her and nothing else bad could or would happen. That he wasn't mad at her and he didn't care about what she had said or done earlier...she knew it might not last forever, but it was all she needed in that moment.
When she woke up the next morning, Oliver was still in bed with her, which was not a thought she would ever had assumed she'd think in this lifetime, yet it was still alarmingly true.
He had to be just as tired as she was; she had only caught a glimpse of the clock last night during her breakdown but it had been around 2 in the morning. It was a little past 9 now, and she still felt like she had gotten ten minutes of sleep, if that. The fitful rest combined with the check-ins from nurses had taken a toll on the both of them.
Her hand drifted to the side and she hit her buzzer for the nurse. She knew Oliver would wake up the second the door opened and as much as she didn't want that, she did want an ice pack.
Sure enough, she felt the tension abruptly return to Oliver's muscles as the door creaked open and Mary walked patiently to her bed.
"Heard you had a bit of a rough night, Miss Felicity." Somehow 'Miss Felicity' sounded so much kinder when it came from her mouth and not Marcus's - she couldn't explain it, but she liked it. "How you feelin' now?"
"Hot," she responded truthfully.
That got Oliver's attention, and he sat up next to her, watching with impatient eyes as her temperature was taken and a small, consoling smile was on Mary's face.
"No fever." She felt him deflate at that news, letting out a huge breath, relaxing. "Which, unfortunately, means that it's just the chemo, doin' its job, honey. You had a little bit of this last time, right?"
She nodded. The heat came on with every session she had, but it usually didn't last this long. She voiced her concerns.
"You're going to start noticing the side effects getting a bit more severe, sweetheart. The more you get, the more your body wants to get rid of it. You've already been spittin' it out, looks like your body's tryin' to get you to sweat it out, too."
Well, wasn't that just great?
"How else you feeling?"
"Tired," she breathed out. "Shaky. Tired."
"Nauseous?"
"A little."
"I'm gonna go get you some more Benadryl and and some cold compresses and we'll see if that helps, okay? You're not due for some more anti-nausea pills until noon, unfortunately. And," Mary pointed a finger threateningly at Felicity before she made to leave, "when I get back, you better have had used the bathroom because I know you's drinking water like you're supposed to, right?"
"Right," Oliver answered for her, waiting until she turned around to give Felicity a pointed look.
She slowly sat up, moving her legs off the bed, not enjoying the way small tremors ran through her thighs. Without needing a word to be said, Oliver slipped off the bed and offered her his arm to help her to the bathroom. He left her at the door but paused at the look on her face.
"Will you uh - will you still stay with me today?"
"Of course. Everyone else is going to give us some time today, too. I asked them to," he rushed to say, seeing the guilt spread on her face. "My choice. If you want them here, they'll come. After last night, I just..."
"O-okay. Yeah, no, that sounds good. Thanks."
"Always."
A/N2: On FDD, you'll see what Oliver's feeling and how he tries to cope with all of this, with the new fun added bonus of Sara Lance's wisdom! Don't hold too much against Felicity - chemo wreaks havoc not just with your physical state, but your mental one as well. It's definitely harder than this story could ever convey.