Chapter Text
“Felicity?” Oliver calls out to her tentatively, his voice soft as though afraid he’d spook her.
Felicity’s leaning over his right arm, her attention thoroughly fixated on the gash on his bicep as she methodically stitches the wound. It’s been almost half an hour since he’d return to S.T.A.R Labs with the rest of the team to recuperate. She’d been on him even before he’d fully cross the threshold, having shoved the chair back in her haste to get to him. She’d stopped just shy of his personal space, her gaze flitting over him as she searched him for any signs of injuries.
He’d reassured her earlier on the comms that he’d been fine but she never quite believes him anymore after he’d apparently downplayed his injuries once too many. So he waited patiently as she assessed him, suppressing the urge to reach out to her just long enough until she reached out for him, wrapping her arms around his waist upon confirming for herself that he’s decent.
She’d kept the hug chaste and had been a flurry of movement when she pulled back, insisting on treating the bleeding cut on his arm that he hadn’t even noticed. His protest had been half-hearted at best and he had willingly followed her out of the room and away from the watchful eyes of their friends so that she could tend to him. After the day he’s had, all he wanted was to be close to her and he knows now that being able to take care of him calmed her down in the same way her presence did for him after a mission.
He’d watch her as she fussed over him, feeling his heart rate slow back to normal as the last of the adrenaline seep out of his system. It’s been 30 minutes since she’d brought him to the speedsters’ training room and he couldn’t deny that there was obviously something bothering her any longer. She’s far too dedicated on tending to him, inserting sutures into his arm with more care than necessary. While he more than appreciates the effort and the idea that she cares about him still fills him with a combination of awe and disbelief, he’s acutely aware of how she’s placed distance between them.
She’d been uncharacteristically quiet, speaking only to instruct him on where she wanted him to sit. And no matter how many times he’d tried catching her eyes, she’d studiously avoided looking at him. He’d manage to dismiss it as her needing time to process the events of the past few days. After all, he needed the time to come to terms with everything he had seen too.
The fight against the Earth X invaders had left him far more on edge than he had anticipated it would. He hadn't questioned it when they had first appeared at chapel, hadn't even realized what he had done until he had incapacitated three hostiles and had his fourth arrow nocked and aimed at another. It had been reflex - the fighting, the need to make sure the innocent and the ones he cared about stayed safe - that it hadn't dawned on him that he wasn't the Green Arrow anymore. The notion that he'd just broken his promise to his son again hadn't crossed his mind until it was a little too late for comfort. Regardless, there hadn't been a choice for him to make with the enormity of the threat and he had almost unwittingly picked up the mantel he had supposedly surrendered to Digg.
Then there was Felicity. He hadn’t even begun coming to terms with the thought that she didn’t want to marry him, before he was confronted by the idea that he might never see her again. Seeing his doppelgänger aiming an arrow at her had been a special kind of terrifying and seeing hers had just thrown him into a loop. It had taken all of his self-control to resist the urge to pull her doppelgänger to him and protect her, to remember that it wasn’t actually her and that he needed to get home. It had taken everything in him to suppress the need to protect every version of the woman he loves.
Now that his Felicity was right next to him, it was becoming increasingly difficult not to reach out to her. He wanted nothing more than to hold her and let the reality of the past few days fade away for a while but had wanted to respect her apparent need for space. He had let her take the lead until the silence and distance left him restless, until the conflict in her eyes became too unbearable for him to see. He manages a total of 30 minutes and then some as waits until she’s done suturing him before reaching out to wrap his fingers around her wrist, making an involuntary noise of frustration when she turns away to focus on the medical products she has scattered on the table next to them.
“Hey,” he squeezes her wrist gently, “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. I’m fine,” her answer comes too quickly and she turns around to meet his eyes for a second. “There’s just a lot going on,” she gestures vaguely at her head, “up here. I’m okay, though.”
She offers him a small smile that does nothing to placate him as she gently tugs her hand out of his grasp. She spins around, putting her back to him, and moves to clear her makeshift workspace. Oliver is almost tempted to leave her alone, a small part of him reasoning that she’ll talk to him when she’s ready. But he wants to be there for her and whatever is going on in her mind, it’s obviously bothering her. After everything they’ve been through together, he’s determined to let her know that he’s there for her every step of the way, in whatever capacity she wants him. He’s definitely learnt his lesson on just letting their issues go without at least trying to talk about it.
“Felicity. Talk to me. Please,” he implores, careful to keep his growing frustration at being shut out from seeping into his voice. After all, he’s one to talk.
He contemplates his options and decides to dive right in. “Is this about me wanting to marry you?”
God, that had been a difficult pill to swallow the first time and it just becomes even more difficult to comprehend every time he tries to think about it. He had thought they were on the same page, stupidly assumed that she felt the same way as he did. He hadn’t even considered the idea that he was wrong – not about this – until the idea was suddenly very real.
Even though she has her back to him, he doesn’t miss the way she flinches at the question. For a beat, he thinks she might pretend she hasn’t heard him but she suddenly drops whatever she had been holding on to with a sharp clatter and whirls around to look at him.
The pained look on her face had him reaching out for her instinctively, intertwining their fingers together. He starts to backtrack, hating that he’d put that look on her face, “Felicity, it’s o-”
“I’m sorry.”
“No,” he shakes his head and squeezes her fingers for emphasis, “No, you don’t have to apologize. It’s okay.”
“You’re disappointed, though,” she soldiers on, “You want us to get married and you’re upset that I don’t.” She smiles at him sadly and he feels something in his heart rip at the sight of it. “You shouldn’t have to pretend like you’re not.”
His heart constricts painfully in his chest. He wants to talk about it, knows they need to talk about it, but suddenly he really doesn’t want to.
For a moment, he considers lying to her. But she’ll see right through him – she always has – and he doesn’t want to lie to her.
“I- I am. But it’s not-” he releases a frustrated huff and struggles to find the right words. He’s never been good at expressing himself but it’s even more jarring when it comes to her. There’s just too much at stake. “I love you. I love you and I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I can’t imagine anyone else by my side, Felicity. So yes, I am a little disappointed,” he squeezes her hand when she looks down and waits for her to meet his gaze again before continuing, “It probably was a bad time to ask you then. But Felicity? I love you. I meant it when I said we don’t have to get married. I just want to be with you. I’m just going to need some time to come to terms with it.”
She searches his face and he makes a conscious effort to keep his expression open, willing her to see the honesty behind his words.
And he does mean what he has said to her wholeheartedly. He’s in love with her with such a ferocity that he hadn’t thought was possible. The very idea that he could lose her and it’d be his fault still paralyzes him some days. But he knows now that he can’t stay away from her. It had been futile to think that he ever had a chance on that front.
It had never been his choice. He was already half in love with her by the time he had been willing to entertain the idea that she meant to him far more than he had been prepared to admit. In retrospect, he knows it hadn’t been a choice of whether he was in love with her on not. It had just been a matter of when he was ready to accept it.
“I shouldn’t have said that I didn’t want to marry you.”
Her voice is quiet and he almost misses it entirely. He tries to make sense of what she’s trying to tell him but fails. Before he could put his question into words, she takes a step closer to him and continues speaking.
“I didn’t mean it,” she explains then promptly frowns as she reconsiders her words. “Well, I did mean it. Just not like that. It’s not that I don’t want to marry you or that I don’t want to marry anyone, for the matter. Wait, that’s not right either. It’s just-”
“Felicity,” he huffs a laugh and pointedly ignores how choked his voice sounds.
He doesn’t know what she’s trying to tell him and it’s terrifying him a bit as his mind comes up with the various possibilities.
She takes a deep breath and braces herself.
“I got scared,” she says quietly. “When we got engaged, I was so happy. I don’t think I’ve ever felt that happy. I’ve never really thought about marriage before but when my mom found the ring, I knew I wanted to marry you, Oliver.” Her smile is serene and he sucks in an unsteady breath. “I pictured what our life would be like and I couldn’t wait to be married to you.”
The smile disappears quickly and tears begin to brim in her eyes. He sees as something clicks into place within her as she steels herself to forge on.
“But then everything went wrong. They went so wrong. I became paralyzed and I-” a sob escapes her lips and Oliver resists the urge to pull her close and shush her. He knows that she needs to say whatever it is she’s trying to tell him and offers his other hand instead, squeezing both of hers in a show of comfort when she reaches for him. “I imagined walking down the aisle to you, having our first dance together. But suddenly that was impossible. This whole future I had imagined for myself – for us – suddenly didn’t seem like it was going to happen. And then when Curtis invented the chip, the whole thing with William happened.”
She scrambles to continue, to prevent him from blaming himself. “I love him. He’s a brilliant kid and I’m so glad you’ve let me be a part of his life. And I understand why you had to send him back away now. But everything felt so wrong then and I… We’re perfect where we are now and I was terrified that if we changed anything, it’ll all just fall apart again.”
The tears that she’s managed to control until then slips down her face as she squeezes his hands almost painfully.
“And I don’t think I can do that again, Oliver.”
Her name escapes his lips in a ragged whisper as he slips off the chair. She stumbles backward but he doesn’t allow her to go far as he promptly wraps his arms around her and draws her close. She buries her face against his chest and her body shakes with sobs.
He scrambles for the right words to say. He can’t even fathom how difficult it must've been for her to go through all that and knowing that it’s his fault makes him want to pull away, to let the guilt overwhelm him. Instead, he pushes it down and focuses on the woman in his arms.
“You’re okay. We’re okay,” his voice is muffled as he presses a kiss to her crown. He knows it’s nowhere near enough but he’s going to damn well try. “I love you. It’s okay. You and me? This right here? It’s all I ever need, Felicity.”
He feels her nod against him and he squeezes her slightly. They stay locked in the embrace for what could’ve been minutes or hours as her sobs slows down. But then she pulls back abruptly so that they’re no longer touching. She swipes the tears off her cheeks, looking at him with a resolve that leaves him baffled.
“Will you marry me?”
The change in pace gives him whiplash and he stares at her blankly for a moment before the reality of what she said catches up with him.
“I- What? But I thought you didn’t want to get married.”
“I don’t. The idea of it terrifies me, Oliver. But the idea of losing you? That scares me even more,” she reaches for him and he reflexively meets her halfway, “Whatever life throws at us, I know we can conquer it as long as we’re together. I love you and I believe in you.” Her laughter is waterlogged and he struggles to keep up with what she’s saying.
“So, Oliver Queen, will you make me the happiest woman on the face of the earth?”