Chapter Text
Oliver had too much going on in his head to even begin thinking about sleep. Every time Oliver made his way towards his room at the Queen family mansion, he would remember that his mother was in her room several doors down when in all honesty she really should not have been. As glad as he was to have her back, Oliver knew that she got away with murder and that, with all of the evidence damning her, she should have been convicted.
When Oliver arrived at QC to assess the damage and maybe even get some of the work Felicity had been hounding him about done, all Oliver could see is his Girl Wednesday’s terrified face and hear her pleading to him not to kill the Count, as if that was even an option.
That left Oliver with one last place to go - the Foundry. At four in the morning, Oliver knew that no one would be there. Oliver had sent John home and given him the next day off of bodyguard duties so her could recover from his Vertigo poisoning, and Oliver had made sure that Felicity made it home safe and sound, pinging her cell phone every thirty seconds until it indicated she had made it along with the text he had asked her to send when she made it in. The vigilante would have (read: should have) driven her to her apartment if it weren’t for the fact that she told him in no uncertain terms that he was to go home and celebrate his mother’s release. While the Foundry was not necessarily a place that Oliver found comfort in - he had had one too many close calls to truly call any place comfortable - the Foundry was the one place in Starling that he found himself most at ease. At least there he could clear his mind in the best way he knew how - through archery. So that is what he did for the next hour; he shot arrows through tennis balls and tried not to think about everything that had happened in the past 24 hours. At least until she came in.
Oliver should have anticipated that Felicity would not sleep through the night and stay in her apartment. He saw how Felicity’s hands shook and how she seemed to be looking over her shoulder whenever she thought Oliver wasn’t paying attention to her. Like she was expecting the Count to be right behind her. But despite what Oliver knew he should have expected, seeing her in her pajamas, her hair slightly disheveled, dark circles under her eyes, with her spare pair of glasses that she normally never let anyone see her wear on, his heart broke a little bit. His normally so perfectly put-together friend was hurting and he didn’t know what to do about it.
When Felicity caught Oliver’s attention, the IT expert froze like a deer in headlights. “I was going - I was going to, go,” she stumbled out, pointing back towards the door leading to the club.
Clearly, Felicity had been expecting the Foundry to be empty, but Oliver wasn’t quite ready to let his girl out of his sight. She obviously hadn’t slept, and with the trauma she had experienced the night before he was concerned about leaving her alone. He didn’t want her to feel like she had to be alone. “Felicity, you don’t have to leave. This is your space, too.”
Oliver saw just a momentary look of surprise in her eyes before she responded, “I really should go - though. You’re doing your, thing . I should- I should just-” Felicity stuttered, obviously flustered.
“Felicity,” Oliver interrupted her.
“Yes?” she responded almost instantaneously.
“Stay. Please,” he pleaded. A part of him needed to know she was safe, and the best way for him to know was for her to be there with him.
Felicity softly nodded, before making her way down the steps and going to her monitors. Oliver resumed his shooting.
It took Oliver fifteen minutes until he couldn’t take it anymore. Normally, Felicity’s typing had a sort of rhythm. Once her fingers hit her keyboard there would be the steady sound of tapping, but it seemed like once Felicity would find her rhythm she would lose it again and would have to go searching again. The back and forth threw Oliver off of his rhythm and raised his concerns about his girl. As Oliver sat on the swivel chair next to her, she continued her choppy typing.
“Felicity, what’s wrong?” he asked. Of course, he had an idea of what was bothering her, but theorizing and knowing for certain were two separate things.
Felicity cast him a glance before returning her gaze to her monitor. “Don’t worry about it, it’s nothing,” she said softly like she was trying to convince herself as well as him,
“Hey… hey, look at me please,” Oliver asked, taking her hands in his and turning her to face him. “Felicity, you look exhausted, like you haven’t slept all night, despite what the pink bunny pajamas say, and then you come here at five in the morning looking so lost . Whatever’s wrong isn’t nothing. Is this about what happened last night?” Both of Oliver’s eyes were staring into her, imploring her to just talk to him. While he was by no means the poster child on talking about feelings, he knew how to listen, if nothing else.
Felicity just stared back before puffing a resigned sigh. “I feel like I can’t even breathe in my skin right now, Oliver. I can’t think of any other way to describe it. While we were waiting for you, he always had a hand on me, either in my hair or on my shoulder, or somewhere . Like he was trying to prove to me that I wasn’t getting away, like tying me to the chair didn’t already make sure I was staying put. I took five showers when I got home, five! And I still feel so, so grimy.
“And to make matters worse, I feel so guilty. I feel so guilty because I made you break your promise, your vow not to kill. And I know you said that there was no choice for you to make, that he was going to hurt me so not killing him, not keeping me safe, wasn’t an option for you, but you wouldn’t even have been put in that position if I had just waited for you to get back. If I had just been patient instead of trying to be something I am so obviously not, you never would have been put in that position where you had to come save me. It was my fault, Oliver.
“So, I guess long story short, I needed to get out of my apartment. It was stifling there, I felt like I couldn’t breathe. I still feel like I can’t breathe.”
Between what Felicity had just told him, to the tears in her eyes, to how fast and shallow her breathing had become, indicating her oncoming panic attack, Oliver had not felt so powerless since the Island, but even then not by much. All Oliver wanted to do was protect her; that was the promise that he and Diggle had both made when they brought her onto the team and Oliver had failed. And the worst part was that she blamed herself for his failure.
Oliver snapped himself out of his momentary bit of self-pity. Later, he thought. He could hate himself later, right now his girl needed him.
“Felicity, just breathe with me okay, just in and out,” he coached, taking one of the hands he’d been holding and placing it over his heart on his bare chest, giving her something to feel to match her breathing. “That’s good, Felicity, just like that,” he said as she started to gain control of her breathing. They like that, leaning towards each other, Felicity’s palm stretched out on Oliver’s chest as she calmed down and relaxed. Soon, Oliver felt her lean her head down on his shoulder, her forehead pressed against his neck. In response, he pulled her closer to his body, so that she was more on his lap than not, Oliver’s arms banding around her back. He needed to feel her close, to feel like he was keeping her safe even if what was hurting her was residing only in her head at that point.
“You have nothing to feel guilty about,” he said into her ear, recalling what she had said in her ramble. “Absolutely nothing. I don’t feel guilty. He had you and he was going to hurt you, he already had hurt you. The only way I could see to protect you was to kill him. And please believe me when I say I will always protect you, always. And, for what it’s worth, if you had been patient, there was the risk that he could have poisoned more people with Vertigo. I wouldn’t have put it past him to go around randomly stabbing people with his tainted flu shot. You were trying to save people, and there is absolutely nothing wrong with that.”
Look at his watch to find it was nearly six in the morning. As Oliver stood, he stood Felicity up with him. “Now, c’mon. Let’s get you some sleep,” steering Felicity to the cot.
She stopped them before they could really get moving. “Oliver, I really don’t think I can sleep right now. I have too much going on up here,” she said, rapping her knuckles against her forehead.
"Just try, for me, please," Oliver pleaded, pushing a stray strand of hair behind her ear and cupping her neck, staring deeply into her eyes. Their faces were close enough that if Oliver really wanted to he could have kissed her, but as soon as he had the thought he shut the idea down. No .
Felicity gave him one of her sweet smiles. "Fine, but only because you asked nicely and not in your 'grrr, I'm the Green Arrow, fear me' voice." Oliver had to suppress a chuckle at that. He didn’t growl that much.
As Oliver guided her to the cot in the Foundry, he could feel her footsteps start to get heavier and saw her eyes start to droop. Good , he thought, she needs the sleep .
“Stay,” she asked him, as Oliver tucked the thin blanket around her. He just looked fondly at her, tucking the same stray strand of hair as before behind her ear.
“Stay,” she pleaded again, grabbing his wrist and holding tight as if she was afraid he would run from her.
As much as Oliver wanted, he could only see the negative consequences. “Felicity, I don't thi-"
"Stay. Please . I know I'm so tired that I should fall asleep quickly, but I don't want to be alone. Please, don't leave me alone," the blonde implored.
Oliver swallowed down his apprehension and nodded. He never really could say no to her. The cot was a tight fit for the two of them together, but they made it work. Oliver held Felicity as close to him as possible, and when her breathing evened out and he assumed she was asleep, he kissed the crown of her head, with the internal promise that he would never let any harm to her happen ever again, and resigned himself to sleep.