Chapter Text
Felicity wiped her palms on her jeans.
Funny, the crazy, homicidal woman holding her at gunpoint hadn’t caused her palms to run like Nigeria Falls.
Instead, that honor went to the recovering Oliver Queen.
It had been four days since he had returned home from the hospital.
Four days full of unspoken questions and some expert aversion on her part.
Felicity felt pretty proud on that front. Just enough presence for him not to think it was about him, but enough distance so she was never really alone with him for any extended period time.
She knew this wasn’t sustainable. The elephant in the room had to be addressed and fast, but ever since that night and her breakdown in the hospital, she couldn’t get her emotions in check.
Everything, from watching him laying on the floor, the revelation of her feelings and the understanding she was beyond screwed was too much for her to handle right now. Her heart started pounding again. The lightheadedness, her constant companion since that night, swarmed again.
It wasn’t Oliver. No, he had been wonderful, before, during and afterward.
No, the problem lied with her. She knew she had to deal with the aftermath of Miranda at some point, most likely with lots of therapy and wine. But what really messing her up was adding Oliver in the mix and their barely new relationship tangled up in the mess.
Thus, there lay the problem. While she could bet her many computers that Oliver wanted her and definitely cared for her that didn’t mean he was remotely on the same page as her.
She loved him.
Deeply.
Like, shoot a crazy woman to get answers, deep.
If Felicity, was having a hard time dealing with this, she couldn’t expect Oliver to deal with her emotional baggage on top of everything else.
After all, he had endured so much already and even opening himself to date was a big deal. She just couldn’t, no, wouldn’t make him deal with her intense emotions and expect him to be okay.
But even if she needed space, it wasn't fair to him. She couldn't hurt him by suddenly becoming distant or acting differently. Couldn’t make him think anything had changed between them.
Even though everything had.
John and Roy knew something was up, but thankfully both mean only gave her knowing looks but didn’t say a word.
Felicity let out a sigh, trying to focus on the code in front of her. Sadly, the library didn’t have its usual calming quality.
“So, would you like to tell me what is going on with you?”
Felicity’s head snapped up. Thea stood in the middle of the room, arms crossed and her red nails tapped her tan skin.
Heat swam up to her neck. Felicity wanted to curse out a denial using the tired phrase, ‘I don’t know you are talking about.’ But the look in Thea’s eyes rebuked any cliques.
Instead, she blinked and pretended to focus on something on her computer screen.
“Felicity,” Thea said her name like Oliver. The similarity stirred an intense longing, robbing her breath and squeezing her heart.
Damn these Queens.
She lost her voice. Thea had no such handicap.
Standing over Felicity’s desk, Thea said, “So when are you going to make me an aunt.”
If Felicity had been drinking or eating something at that moment, Thea would have killed her. Instead, Felicity choked on her spit.
“Woah, are we skipping like twenty different steps there!” She held up her hands and stood up pacing behind her chair.
“I mean, we haven’t even had a proper date yet and while I am sure Oliver likes me, there is no way is in hell he is thinking about marriage, let alone kids. That is jumping a fleet of sharks-”
“Felicity” Thea reached out and grabbed Felicity’s hands stopping the frantic pacing. “Stop.”
Never say Felicity Smoak couldn’t follow instructions. She went still.
Thea held on tight, her eyes serious.
The next words were colored with humor. “Instead of freaking out, why don’t you just take your head out of your ass and tell my brother how you feel.”
Felicity sputtered.“Eehh, and what is that?”. Another surge of blood scorched her face.
Sympathy graced Thea’s features.
“That you love him.”
There. The words Felicity had been trying to process and absorb out in the open became an atomic bomb obviating her whole life and Thea had said them like she had been ordering an Uber.
Thea’s voice softened again, “Felicity, we all know it. Anyone who has eyes can see it. Everyone, except my idiot brother. Who is, as we speak, second-guessing himself, thinking he somehow ruined his chance for something real.”
Felicity blinked.”What are you talking about? Whey would he think that? I’ve tried everything to make sure he would think everything is okay.”
Thea laughed and let Felicity go. She plopped herself in the desk chair. “Lord, you two are perfect for each other. So clueless. You think you are so subtle and normal but you are anything but. He feels it, Felicity. Every shift in your tone, the tightness around your lips, and stiffness in your body language, all of it is screaming at him. And all that screaming is freaking him out. “
Anger and something hotter-embarrassment-burned Felicity’s cheek.
“Bullshit.”
Thea’s laugh rang hollow in the room. “For a genius, you sure are stupid. “ Another slap of heat surged under Felicity’s skin. Fists formed. She really cared for Thea, but at this moment all she wanted to do was throttle, or at least, throw out the nosy teenager from the room.
Thea was seriously messing with the thin bare equilibrium Felicity had desperately hold on to. If all this effort was actually causing him pain instead of alleviating it, then she was truly up a creek without a fucking paddle.
Thea, like her brother, used her blunt and brutal Queen charm and continued,
“He is building all these doomsday scenarios with you as the star and none of it is good. It is like he is the fire again, but instead of running or getting help, he’s just standing there being burned alive but too scared to speak because he is afraid of losing you.”
“Oh god.” Now it was Felicity holding on to the desk, the days since coming back to the manor replaying in her mind.
The smiles that didn’t quite brighten his eyes. The soft kisses, but the ever consistent wall she had erected between them. His voice softer, more vulnerable, but like hers, affecting more calmness and normality than actually existed.
And she had been so wrapped up in her own shit to notice he was stuck in his hell, waiting for her to come back to him—if she came back at all.
And he would have endured that. Let her go, without saying a word if that is what she wanted.
Because the man who once believed he was entitled to everything simply because he existed, now gave up his own desires and needs for others.
For her. Especially for her.
She knew that truth as well as her own name.
Her heart burst into a crazy race. Her breath hitched.
Thea smiled. Warmth and affection turning them a rich hazel. “There she is .” She muttered.
Thea surged up and slapped her thigh. “It seems my work here is done!” She announced to the room as if her ancestors were holding court in the library and she was the reigning Queen.
As she crossed the threshold, she said over her shoulder. “He’s at the garden.” and left.
He held the rose between his fingertips, rolling it back and forth. The thrones skimming the tops of his fingers and the light scrapping helped him focus.
Everything had been wonderful and terrible all at once since he had left the hospital. Nothing obvious had happened. Felicity still saw him every day. Still smiled that singular smile to him. Still clucked at him to take his medication and to get in his naps. Still spent her days in his home. Her scent, her presence permeating everything around him.
He both loved and hated it. Loved to see her become more essential in his day and activities. Loved hearing her laughter over something Roy said or hear her rambling on about a problem to John.
But it all felt so far away. And that killed him.
Sometime between the night in the hospital, to their return to reality, his hurricane, his sunshine muted her light. In his core, he knew something wasn't right. He felt the wrongness tugging at his insides each time she smiled but it failed to make her blue eyes sparkle, or the little lines pulling on the side of her mouth.
A part of—okay, if he was really honest—most of him thought it was about them. The doctors had given him a clean bill of health. And while he hadn't been expecting them to rush to the bedroom as soon as they walked back in the manor—
A thorn pricked his finger. The rose glaring back at him. The deep red shade accusing him.
Be honest with yourself. It seemed to scold.
Oliver sucked on the injured finger. Okay, he was a degenerate. He had expected something to happen. After all, Felicity had been very interested explore that side of their relationship. The only reason they hadn't that night at her house was because he stopped them.
And then the insanity happened.
Had everything made her rethinking their relationship?
Him?
"Ugh," he ran his free hand through his hair, threw the rose on the bench and closed his eyes.
"Poor Rosey. It isn't her fault she has protection."
Felicity.
Oliver opened his eyes and his pulse sped up at the sight in front of him. Felicity had obviously been deep in one of her coding sessions. Her hair thrown on top of her head in a messy bun. Another one of her colorful shirts with a faded fox Robin Hood. His bow at the ready, arrow primed to shoot.
Like always, the sight of her, threw him off balanced. He loved it.
He loved her. He let aching sweetness infuse him.
Oliver tried to keep it nonchalant and teasing her back, "Indeed, she is a lady and must be handled with care." He picked up the rose and handed it to her.
A shadow fluttered across her face and he remembered, too late about her mother and roses.
His arm started pulling it back, but Felicity snatched it out of his hand and sat down on the bench next to him. Her gaze held on the woman in the fountain in front of them. A hushed, heavy weight settled over them.
Oliver knew she was building up her courage to speak. Gathering herself. Bracing. He had seen this before when she talked about her family. Then again when she broke down in the hospital. Tenderness swelled inside his heart and soul.
She didn't allow herself these moments with others. That he already knew. To them, she always sparkled or shined like light and steel.
But at this moment, in those quiet moments of silence, she allowed him in. Allowed him to see the softness underneath.
Minutes passed. Neither said anything.
Then she spoke.
"I love you."
His entire existence collapsed into those three words spoken by this one woman.
Oliver opened his mouth, but nothing came out. How can you put into words the sensation cascading inside him? There were no words.
She held on his gaze and continued, "I'm also scared shitless. We haven't even really started dating and I know this is too soon and it too much to put on you, especially with everything that happened. I tried to keep it under wraps. Tried to figure it out without worrying you, but I failed, didn't I?"
Pain and regret swam in her eyes. No way was that allowed to continue.
Oliver didn't think. Didn't try to figure out the best way to approach this. He did the one thing he had since giving in to the impulse and crossing the threshold of her room to ask her for lunch.
Feel. Don't think.
He cupped her face. She let out a hushed breath.
"Felicity."
Her eyes widened slightly. Her name came out of him, like a prayer. Reverence and awe laced the word.
"I love you."
Her lips opened and tears welled in her beautiful blue eyes.
Her hand came up and cupped his face. Intertwined. Surrounded by the roses. Surrounded by their past, present and future all communing in this one moment.
Many years later, when Felicity would tell the story to their children, she always said she heard the roses sing and the nymph in the fountain sigh with joy. It would always strike him wildly sentimental and romance for his sunshine, but Felicity would look at him with that look in her eyes.
Then he would remember, not the roses or the foundation. Only the woman. Her bright blue eyes swimming in tears, her face flushed, her breath hushed and love radiating from her. Love for him. For them.
And when his lips touched her and she sighed, the perfection of her body melding to his, the warmth of her hands on his ruined face. He died in her arms.
Her fingers tracing all of him. Accepting all of him. Branding him with her love, making him whole. He drank her in, and she followed. Then she led and he gave in. Perfection in their imperfections.
The shadows banished.
His heart light and free.
Reborn anew under her light.
Always.