"Your ribs didn't crack – but I think that's through sheer luck. They're still bruised, though, so please be a little more careful."

His hands half-float over the large bruised area, this time less an assessment, more of a feather-soft caress, trying to comfort her.

"I'm going to get you another dose of painkillers after dinner. I need to make sure you've got some food in you first. I'm sure that'll help make everything a little more manageable."

Oliver sighs, rubbing the back of his neck as he leans slightly away from her.

"You can drop the towel now while I check on your neck and your-uh…"

He starts looking a little flustered, eyes focusing past her so he doesn't have to make eye contact as he appears to consider his next words carefully before finishing with, "the other bruise."

"Were you going to say you were going to check on my breast?" Felicity asks, amused, letting the towel drop so it's back to being held up by the knot between her breasts.

"No," he denies quickly, but there's a red tinge to his ears which finally lets her smile again.

God, she loves this man. He can make her smile when she really doesn't think she could anymore. She'd missed him so much. He's always made her life so much better, no matter their personal conflicts.

"It's not a dirty word, you know. It's perfectly clinical term and description," she prods teasingly. "Breast, breast, breas-"

His hand covers her mouth and even though he's flustered he's smiling back at her, chuckling quietly at her childish taunting.

"I got it, Felicity," he says wryly, "and yes, I will check on the bruise – not your breast." Oliver's still smiling and when he feels her answering grin under his hand, he removes it, still clearly entertained by her childishness.

"Meh, it's just a bruise. I'm sure it's fine," Felicity waves him off.

"Just humour me, please," he requests with a tired sigh. "Besides, you didn't seem to know your bones were bruised. Or that you had to have your neck stitched. And you didn't tell the Doctor about memory issues and signed out against medical advice. At this point, I think we can both agree you're worse than me at being honest about your injuries and I do need to check on you."

"I didn't realise I signed out against medical advice," Felicity protests.

"Yeah, apparently the Doctor and the officer with you are adamant that you agreed, you knew how to take care of yourself and that you had someone who could look after you. And you understood you were acting against medical advice."

Oh.

She hasn't had anyone home who could look after her for twenty-plus years now. Not since Oliver left. Not unless she wanted to put the burden on her own child – and she simply could never bring herself to do that.

"I'm sorry, I really have no memory of that," Felicity finds herself saying because she knows he's worried that this is part of a larger pattern of behaviour from her. At least it's true enough; she genuinely has no memory of that.

"Yeah, I know. Which is why I don't think either of them should have let you leave – or drive off in your own car," Oliver's clearly angry with both the hospital and the Doctor as well as her assigned officer, but it doesn't impact how he treats her in any way.

Despite his gritted jaw and tense shoulders, Oliver's very careful in removing the bandage around her neck. When she winces slightly at the pull, he uses his other hand to inch down just to the edge of the plaster and tighten his hold on her skin to ensure his removal doesn't unnecessarily pull on her skin – or stitches – more.

It's sweet how gentle and tender he is with her – she just wishes sometimes he took that good care of himself, too.

"Yeah, you pulled a few stitches," he finally tells her, breath skating over her shoulder and neck with how close he is. Felicity barely manages not to shiver (or tilt her head to get more of his attentions).

"Given how close this is to your carotid, I'd rather have Dig or the hospital redo them."

Felicity groans out loud in protest at the thought.

"Yeah, you- you don't get a choice, not in this. You clearly can't be trusted with your own care. Since Dig's got the night off, we'll have to make a trip back to the hospital."

"Careful, Oliver. There's caring and then there's patronising," she cautions him, hackles slightly raised just by the way he'd phrased things.

"I'll try and avoid the latter." He confirms easily and she relaxes a bit. "But you're part of my team, Felicity. At least until Walter's back. And that means I need to make sure you're alright. I know I wasn't there when you needed me, but I need you to at least let me take care of you now."

"I thought we were past this," she tells him. "It's not your fault."

"Helena was my ex. I was the one who trained her. The skills I taught her? Those are the ones she used against you – the reason you were nearly killed. The reason half your upper body is covered in bruises. And I was the one who persisted even after we caught her, thinking I could redeem her or help her in some way. You were under my protection and I knew what she was looking for, I should have figured out she'd come for you and I should have been there with you. Protecting you."

"Oliver," Felicity starts with a gentle tone, "you can't keep beating yourself up about this. Unless you want to hold my hand, walk me everywhere and stay with me all day while I work and all night while I sleep, follow me into the bathroom and do the same with Dig, somehow, you're going to have to learn to accept that sometimes, we will be on our own."

She smiles at him, hoping she's getting through to him.

"That's why we're cautious. That's why you have a tracking app for me on your phone. That's why we try to minimise the danger when we're not out in the field; but nothing is ever one hundred percent safe."

He still looks unconvinced.

"Okay, let me put it another way. If I weren't on your team, I'd do what I did before I met you."

And after she met him, if one includes Helix.

"I'd probably work with other hacktivists, getting into dangerous situations without any muscle on hand – that's you, Oliver, in case that was unclear – and get in over my head at some point and die because I'd have no back-up, no one to look out for me. If I got kidnapped like Walter, there'd be no one but my mom looking for me. Not really."

Felicity smiles warmly at him, trying to let him know how much better her life is for having him in it – besides, it's been a long time since the thought of dying bothered her. The only thing that had worried her about it for the last two decades had been William and Mia. Unhealthy? Probably. But still true. It also means she looks a little too careless talking about her own possible kidnapping or death.

But deep down, what she'd once told Cupid, years upon years ago? Yeah, that's still very true. She's loved and been loved more than she'd ever thought was humanly possible. If she died today, she'd be okay with that.

"So, no. I don't think it's your fault. I don't think there's anything to make up for. If you just want to take care of me because you care for me, or because you are concerned or worried, because you're my friend – those are all acceptable reasons. Now, I could really use the helping hand at the moment – clearly, as we've seen today. But if you're just doing because you're feeling guilty and you want to atone, I'd much rather go back to my flat and deal with it on my own."

Oliver sighs.

"Sometimes you're such a genius," he starts, "and other times I really do wonder."

He shakes his head lightly, before gently cradling her chin and jaw in his hand right up to her cheek, making sure he can look into her eyes.

"Of course, I care for you, too. You're my friend, Felicity," he emphasises slowly, everything about him intense as he tries to get her to understand – but, oh, does she ever understand. The way his eyes are all warm and soft when he looks down at her, the way he's holding her, all tender and careful.

"One of my best friends," he continues softly, stroking across her cheek. "And I'm also very worried about you, especially given how blasé you've been about your injuries. Now," the tiniest hint of a smirk curls up the corner of his lips, "do I have your permission to continue looking after you?"

It's like Oliver creates their own little world with just them in it, blocking out the remainder of the universe with laughable ease until it's just him and her and nothing else could possibly intrude. Just like last time and the time before that and every single time he does this, her heart picks up speed, her stomach flutters and she can't take her eyes off of him. His intensity around her, the way he makes her feel like there's no one else in the world with them, she'd missed that – had never experienced that with anyone else before him or since. It's only ever been him who was able to do that.

She can't ever not believe him when he talks to her like this. Care is not love, friends is not husband and wife, but it's more than she expected out of him this early on in their relationship (acquaintanceship? Friendship?) so she relaxes back into the bed, leaning against him slightly.

"As long as we're on the same page," Felicity smiles up at him, knowing tenderness is still etched across her face.

"I trust your judgement. You have much more experience with these things. If you think you can't just fix it up here, I'll go with you to the hospital."

"Manipulation doesn't work on me, Felicity. You forgot how I grew up. Or, more like, who raised me."

"I'm not forgetting a thing," she tells him, smirking. "But I also think you're currently torn between pride and caution given it's just a few stitches which Dig's done like a million times to you in the foundry."

"I sometimes wonder how you seem to know me so well, so quickly," Oliver says wryly, mutely acknowledging her point was well made.

Felicity smirks. "Genius," she reminds him.

"As if I could ever forget," he says and gives in with a sigh. "I'll do it. Just- the scar might not be as neat. I'll do my best, but-"

"Hey, Oliver, it's fine. I don't mind." Her hand strokes across his broad, delectable shoulders, trying to reassure him, before letting her eyes meet his, making sure he can read her sincerity.

"Besides, if scars are sexy on you, I don't think they'll take too much away from me, do you?"

He'd never been anything but kind about the scars on her back from the surgery and bullet wounds, making sure to lavish them with affection whenever he could – because to him it meant she survived when he'd been near-certain he'd lost her.

"You think my scars are sexy?" He asks, surprised and Felicity feels her own eyebrows rise, taken aback at how unexpected that seems to him.

"I didn't think I was very subtle about checking you out when you exercise half-naked in front of me, but if you want me to, I can certainly be even more overt next time," she offers with a cheeky grin and gets a huffed laugh and headshake from him.

"That's not even including the salmon ladder. You know," she offers, pretend-thoughtfully, "I wouldn't actually be able to dismiss you out of hand if you told me I'd drooled on you before when you're doing that."

That comment earns her a loud laugh, shoulders shaking, eyes sparkling and everything. Her heart skips a beat and she can feel the answering smile curve up her own lips, an involuntary reaction when she sees him so happy.

"I believe I even made a few comments out loud earlier about you to that effect," she concludes.

"I- yeah, but usually you talk about my muscles and abs not my- No, hold on," Oliver shakes his head, looking amused at his own diversion, "that's not relevant right now. You, Miss Smoak, are very distracting."

Her smile curves into a smirk and her eyes go half-lidded as she looks back at him.

"Oh, I am, am I, Mr. Queen? And how exactly am I distracting you?" Oliver's lips twitch. "You know, just so I know what to do again next time?"

She winks at him – or well, as close as she ever gets to a wink; or as her husband once told a surprising combination of sexy and adorable which really worked for her – and him.

"Shush, you," he hushes her, his grin wide enough to give a hint of his beautiful dimples even as he ducks his head and shakes it in fake admonishment.

"And no, nothing as meagre as a scar could ever take anything away from the person that you are, Felicity Smoak," he tells her seriously a breath later and for a moment she could swear she's got heart palpitations at the sheer gravity he's giving the words. There's Oliver being intense and there's this. Her heart's skipping a beat before it starts racing, her hands twitch with the need to pull him down for a passionate kiss (or a hundred) and her tongue has suddenly decided to turn entirely uncooperative.

"Anyone who cares about your scar or tells you it makes you look ugly or it should be hidden, simply isn't worthy of you," he tries to impress upon her as if she cares for anyone's opinion other than his and Dig's.

"You fought off the trained daughter of a mobster, Felicity. You didn't just survive, you beat her. You should be looking at that scar and be really fucking proud of yourself."

He pauses only for a moment, just long enough to ensure he meets – and holds – her eyes, cradling her cheek in his large hand.

"I know I am," he tells her softly and she knows she lights up under his praise, a full-on blush crawling down from her cheeks to her chest, eyes wide and sparkling and her own dimples on full display with how wide her smile is. She turns her head enough to press a gentle kiss to the inside of the wrist, just at the edge of the palm he's using to cradle her face.

"Thank you."

Notes:

Hi! I love Felicity teasing Oliver at the beginning and I adore Oliver's pep talk. What are your favourite bits of this chapter?

Preview: Next chapter will have Felicity with a pep talk. I've got another two chapters pre-written. If I get enough comments, I'll upload the next chapter.

Please comment and review :)