Work Text:
It’s Wednesday morning when Oliver goes missing.
Felicity's day starts out like any other day. She wakes up, drinks the essential cup of coffee, showers and dresses in a light blue dress and her favorite 4-inch heels with her hair up in the usual perky ponytail. She can’t find her glasses but shrugs it off and takes her spare ones. She is supposed to meet Oliver for lunch at 11 so she dresses subconsciously a little nicer than she would on a normal working day. She wouldn't admit it, but she’s really looking forward to it. Her relationship with Oliver, not a relationship as in a relationship, she tells herself, had started to develop in the better direction over the past few months. Felicity has tried to damp down the not-so-platonic feelings she started to experience, because no one is supposed to feel that way over their ex-boyfriend. Ex-fiance. Then again, Felicity has noticed Oliver staring at her when he thinks she doesn’t see or the way his hand lingers on her shoulder. She doesn’t feel uncomfortable, though, quite the opposite. Just the thought of what he might be thinking at those moments sends a sudden arousal and a feeling of butterflies to her lower stomach. God, she feels like a school girl.
Denying the possibility that he might feel the same way, Felicity prepares for her early lunch break and leaves the office.
Felicity stands in the middle of her, their, favorite coffee shop waiting for him when she gets the message. Her phone buzzes in her pocket and Felicity thinks it’s Oliver, he’s already late after all. With a small smile on her face, she fishes the device out. The second she sees the called ID on the screen, her smile freezes. The ice latte she already got from the counter slips from her hand and the content spreads all over the floor. Felicity doesn’t notice the cafeteria worker coming to stand in front of her nor that she starts cleaning the mess up. Felicity’s focus remains on the small screen where the somewhat familiar number keeps flashing at her. Normally a familiar number would only calm her down, since her own is private. She changed it after a stalker incident in high school, which led to a broken wrist and a bleeding nose. No, the familiar number is always a good thing, unless she recognizes it to be the infamous, star-throwing vigilante's burner phone.
"So, you're saying that Oliver didn't show up.", Diggle says, "What if he just forgot?"
"Oliver was supposed to meet me at the shop ", Felicity repeats in a shaky voice, ”Are you seriously telling me he forgot? Oliver doesn’t forget, John.”, Felicity whispers the last part. Diggle stands in front of her with his arms crossed with a sceptical look on his face. Felicity came right to the arrow cave after she managed to move her legs. She send a quick ”SOS, LAIR” to Diggle on the way and sat down on her spinning chair when she got there. Felicity started her automated search about the call, but it would take a while. When Diggle finally arrived a gun in hand, it took Felicity quite some time to convince him there isn’t an immediate danger in the bunker.
”Plus”, she continues, ”the call came suspiciously at the exact same time we were supposed to meet.”
Diggle scratches his chin before replying. ”How do you know it’s Prometheus?”
Oh, that’s another story. The one she isn't ready to tell yet. She started researching on her own when the team hit a dead end after another. She is tired of waiting, so she took the matter into her own hands. It took a while, but she managed to find a number. She knows how the team feels about her doing her own research, which could possibly lead her to danger. Here goes nothing.
”I kind of… found it?” she starts hesitantly.
”Found it? From where?”
”…internet?” Technically she did find it from the internet, but maybe not from the legal one. Diggle moves both his hands to his face and starts rubbing the brigde of his nose.
”Why were you searching something like that, Felicity?” he asks, clearly annoyed.
”Oh, I don’t know. If you haven’t noticed, you and Oliver are not really making much progress.”, she mutters under her breath. Diggle rises his head to look at her and what she sees in his eyes is definitely not amusement. She clears her throat and stands up to show him her findings. She starts typing rapidly on one of the many screens on her table.
”I found a phone number which seems to be a burner phone. It lead me right to Prometheus and since we know who that is, it’s not much of a secret anymore who was calling me this morning.”, she explains.
”You didn’t pick up, right?”
”John, I’m not stupid”
Felicity knows a call like that might be a trap or a way to bug one’s phone. It doesn’t mean she didn’t want to, she very much did, but she isn’t stupid. The mere thought of what Adrian Chase might do to Oliver makes her shiver. The situation feels kinda ironic considering the thought she had this morning.
”Did you try to call Oliver?”, Diggle asks.
”No”, she mutterns while typing, ”I didn’t want to take any chances before finding out what’s going on. I’m gonna try, thought, but with my new program running in the back.”
”What’s that?” Diggle asks when she falls quiet, fully focused on the screen.
”Just something I created a while ago. It’s supposed to keep me invisible and untraceable until it’s turned off. You ask a lot of questions.”
”I'm trying to get the whole picture.", he reasons," and we’re gonna use that, in here?”, he confirms gesturing the lair. At his tone, Felicity finally looks up.
”It’s going to leave us untraceable.”, she repeats, ”Trust me, John.” Diggle nods as his approval and places himself next to her to peek at the screen. Felicity turns her head to keep the eye contact and after a few seconds she turns back to her computer.
"The question is, how did he get my private phone number", she asks herself while starting the program, "I mean, I can't find a reasonable solution. I made sure I didn't leave any trace when I was going through the files. He must have some technical expertice himself, or at least someone who does."
"Someone better than you? Felicity, we both know you're one of the most intelligent people in the country.", Diggle says, "Are you absolutely sure you didn't make a mistake?"
Felicity just gives him a pointed look.
"...or not", Diggle nods.
”Okay”, she whispers to herself before pressing the green call button. Felicity can feel the growing nervousness tightening her throat but she swallows past it. Even with mental preperation, she wouldn’t be ready for this.
To her shock, Oliver answers.
Silence.
”Hello?”, Felicity tries in a small voice. She fears what she might hear. As soon as she talks, a new screen pops up on her computer and she feels her breath catch in her lungs.
On the screen she can see Oliver, laying in a filthy cell, she supposes it’s a cell, with his hands cuffed and attached to the floor with a chain. She takes a shuddering breath, second, third, before pressing the audio on. Oliver isn’t wearing a shirt and there is visible bruises on his ribs she can see even though the CCTV his phone is supposely attached to. But the bruising is not what makes the tears gather in her eyes so it’s hard to see. There are three arrows pointing out of his right shoulder, so deep it makes Felicity want to vomit.
She raises a hand to her mouth. Oliver looks so dead. The CCTV footage isn’t really a great quality, so she isn’t able to see his chest rise and fall. Felicity feels Diggle’s arms holding her up as she lets out a huge, ugly sob. No no no no. She begins to tremble, but isn’t able to move her eyes from his unmoving form. Oh god he’s dead, she thinks before feeling her lungs burn. She can feel Diggle talking from the rumble of his chest where she’s suddenly pressed into but she isn’t hearing it. Her tears continue falling down her cheeks and Diggle turns her slightly so she can’t see the screen anymore. The moment she bumps into his solid chest, she can her Diggle’s concerned voice penetrating through her grief.
”Breathe, Felicity”
She realizes she’s holding her breath when she feels her lungs burn again and takes a huge shaky breath, that leaves her a little dizzy with the sudden oxygen. Felicity feels Diggle moving her to sit down on her chair and the moment she does, she quickly spins around to face the screen again. She feels her heart clench at the sight of Oliver still lying still on the ground. She’s just about to start tracing the signal, when another form appears on the screen.
Adrian Chase.
Felicity feels a burst of anger fill her, which she gladly welcomes instead of the heartbreaking grief. She notices something hanging from the walls and swallows down the wave of nausea again when she realizes they’re the people he’s killed in the past.
”How dare he?”, she cries in a raspy voice.
Chase moves to kneel next to Oliver with a sickening grin. Felicity wants to hit that smug look right off his face. Suddenly Oliver’s arm rises to touch the arrows pointing out of his skin and Felicity lets out a sob of relief. Chase grabs one of the arrows and pulls it out without a second thought. Felicity watches helplessly as he pulls all three out with a disgusting, wet sound. Oliver’s mouth opens in a scream, which makes it so much worse. She can see him trying to catch his breath and she would give anything to be able to comfort him.
”Felicity”, she hears Diggle say a bit winded himself.
”Right”, she breathes out and with shaky hand reaches for the keyboard. After awhile she pushes herself up with a frustrated buff of air. ”I can’t trace it”, she whispers. The terrifying truth hits her with its full force and she begins crying silently. Oliver could, probably will, die because she couldn’t trace a signal. That’s what she does best. That’s her job at the team. And now the love of her life is going to die because she couldn’t do her part.
”What do you mean, Felicity?”, Diggle asks a little urgently, staring at her with a terrifying look on his face.
She takes a deep breath before answering. ”I mean that I can’t trace it.” she repeats a little louder this time. ”There’s nothing there. It’s like all the information is swiped away or blocked.”
Did Chase shoots those arrows. Did he stab them to the skin that used to be so smooth? Felicity closes her eyes and remebers the number of times she’s touched right that spot. An audible grunt from Oliver makes her flinch and lock her eyes to the screen once again. How much did it hurt? Was he conscious during it? How did he survive three arrows? She couldn’t help but feel a little grateful she wasn’t watching when that happened.
”What’s next?”, she hears him say. Felicity grips the armrest tightly at the sound of his raspy voice. She doesn’t know if it’s from screaming of the lack of it, but then again she doesn’t really want to know.
”You said something when I brought you here”, Chase starts in a monotone voice, as if he was talking about the weather, ”about how your friends are your strenght now.”, he continues. Felicity feels her heart clench at Chase’s words, her heart filling with pride towards the man on the ground. Chase reaches to his front left pocket and takes something out.
”She didn’t even know I was in her apartment”, he says with amusement which makes her shift uncomfortably. Chase holds something in front of Oliver but the blurry picture makes it hard for her to see even when she leans forward.
”I swear to god if you hurt her-”
”-you’ll do absolutely nothing. Because you’re here. You see, until you confess your secret, Oliver, everyone that you love is at play.”
Felicity fills with anger when she recognizes the item to be her glasses. Oh Oliver. She could only imagine the terror he must feel. She should’ve thought more about it in the morning. Guilt threatens to drown her until she feels a hand grab her shoulder and give it a light squeeze. Diggle. She had already forgotten his presence. What secret?
”Even your son”
Utter cold reaches Felicity’s chest at his words. She watches as Oliver turnes his head forward and looks so incredibly devastated that she feels another rush of emotion through her. How could Chase? His son is innocent. A child.
”You’re bluffing”, Oliver argues but even Felicity can hear he doesn’t believe himself, ”He’s hiding. Even I don’t know where he is”.
”It’s because you haven’t really looked. But for me, we both know it’s just the matter of time. Confess.”
”I don’t know what you want”
Felicity takes a shuddering breath and reaches for the keyboard again. There has to be something. She can’t just sit here and watch him die. She couldn’t look away either. She would never forgive herself. Just keep him talking, Oliver.
”Then I guess I should leave you here to think about it. And wonder who I might kill while-”
”Andrian. Adrian, please!”, Felicity closes her eyes at the sound of his desperate plea.
”All you have to do is say the words”
”I-”
Silence.
Please Oliver say something, anything. Anything at all. She pleades in her mind. Make up something. Say you’re sorry. Say you’re a murderer. Say you feel no remorse. Please say whatever he wants to hear.
”So I thought. See you soon.”
She continues watching in horror as the door opens once again and Evelyn steps inside. Felicity can’t help to feel some pity towards the girl, given her present appearence. She has dried tear tracks on her cheeks and her hair is a mess. She watches as Adrian makes them fight each other. She watches as he snaps her neck. She watches him sink to the ground. She watches Oliver confessing. If she's being completely honest to herself, that information is no news to her.
The time when Chase takes the lighter, Felicity’s cheeks and nose hurt from all the crying and rubbing she’s done.
"I'm sorry", Oliver breathes.
"I know, I just don't care"
She feels awful, not being able to do anything but watch as he burns Oliver’s Bratva tattoo. She’s sure the blood-curdling scream he lets out will haunt her in her dreams at least for the next couple of years, if she’s ever able to sleep. She can’t even begin to imagine what Oliver must be feeling right now. As the torture continues, Felicity mutes the video footage and hides her face behind her hands. She can’t do this. She can’t hear the man she loves die. Sobs shake her body and she curls on a ball on the chair. She feels Diggle’s arms come around her and his tears drop to her hair.
After a few minutes Felicity ventures to look up. Oliver lays still on the floor in a puddle of his own blood, but his cuffs are off and the cell’s door is open. He’s dead, she thinks just as Oliver stirs. Felicity wraps her arms around herself and waits.
The foundry's door opens with a crack. Felicity has always hated the sound, because it distracts her from her work. Diggle tried to oil it once without success. This night, though, the sound is very welcome and the moment she hears it, she shots up from her chair where she has sat for the last half an hour, preparing herself for the worst.
But when she sees the man she loves hobbling down the stairs, shoulders slumped, she can't get herself to move. It's like her feet are locked to the cold cement floor. Time stops, eternity passes until Oliver reaches the bottom, his green leather jacket thrown loosely over his shoulders. Felicity locks her eyes to his, but he's not looking at her. His gaze remains at his feet, as if he needed to concentrate just to stay upright. He's favoring his left side. Felicity prompts him silently to just look at her. His public mask is perfectly in place, his eyes showing no emotion, nothing at all. Felicity swallows hard and takes a hesitant step towards him.
"Oliver", she barely whispers.
She sees his muscles tense and he fists his palms tightly. He turns to the back of the lair without a single look at her direction. It hurts more than she thought it would. Oliver drops his bow and quiver heavily on the floor but makes no move to put them away.
"Oh my god", Felicity breathes as her eyes move over his bare chest. His eyes darken slightly and he turns away. Felicity mentally kicks herself. Way to go. The urge to reach out, hold him tight feels irresistible but she holds herself back. Oliver shrugs the coat off with a wince and throws it away next to his arrows.
"Oliver", she tries again a little louder. This time he takes a deep breath and turns to look at her. When their eyes meet, she fights the tears that threaten to spill. His eyes show nothing but cold and hurt and Felicity have never wanted to take his pain away more than right then. She bits her lower lip to stop it from trembling. Oliver holds her gaze for a few seconds and then he looks somewhere behind her. The screen.
Felicity quickly moves to stand in front of the computers but it's too late. He frowns and looks back at her his eyes now filled with an emotion she can't name.
"He- Chase, he um... He called us", she explains, "We saw the whole thing"
And that is so wrong thing to say, she realizes the moment the words leave her mouth but there is no way to take them back now. She mentally kicks herself again. She sees as Oliver registers her words. His gaze moves back to the screen and his hands start to tremble. His face twists but he's quick to hide it.
You don't kill because you have to. So why? Why do you do it?
Felicity steps forward immediately and reaches out for him. The second she moves, Oliver flinches back. He flinches back. Felicity stops, her hand still up between them. He's just a few feet away but so far away. This could be the thing that destroys him. She's distantly aware of Diggle leaving the room and she thanks him in her mind. This is something Oliver wouldn't want John to see. This is something Felicity wants to help him with.
Because I wanted to. And I liked it.
"Oliver", she whispers again and mentally curses herself. Why the words couldn't come out now that she desperatly needs them to? From all the times she has babbled, the universe desides now is good time to stop. Felicity knows her babble could help him but nothing. She tries to think of something to say, anything, but her mind is as blank as his eyes.
"I don't care, Oliver", she manages. Her voice trembles so much it's almost hard to understand. She's not sure what part she even means by it, but she needs to do something quickly before Oliver shuts her out completely. "Please".
Oliver squeezes his palms so tightly his nuckles are turning white. Use your head, Smoak. She just wants to touch him, to feel his skin under her palm. She needs reassurance he's alive and standing before her. She takes half a step forward, so slowly she's not sure she moved. It's like approaching a cornered animal, the last thing she wants is to spook him, to push him further away. She takes another step, third, until she stands at arms lenght from him. Oliver's gaze remains on the floor.
"I'm going to touch you", Felicity warns him. He looks like he's ready to bolt any second and she prays he wouldn't. She raises her arm again and ever so gently brushes her fingertips over his better shoulder. The muscle jumps under her touch, but he doesn't move. Felicity doesn't dare to breathe as she slowly spreads her palm against his skin. He feels cold. She rises her head to look at him, but he stares somewhere behind her head. She needs to treat these wounds, she decides. Felicity slides her palm over his upper arm and tugs gently but the moment she does, he backs away from her and her arm falls back down.
"Oliver, you need medical attention", she starts carefully. She needs to choose her next words very wisely. "You could get an infection. Would you please at least let me?"
Oliver's eyes move over her for a split second and she tries to smile at him, but it comes out more as a grimace. He lowers his heads but nods ever so slightly that Felicity feels like she can draw a breath again.
"Thank you", she breathes with relief. She forces herself to turn around and walk over the table. She lets him follow him when he's ready. They really need to talk but that can wait.
Oliver sits down on the medical table and Felicity works on him methodically in silence. She has to fight the urge to say something or worse, hug him. Yep, that would be bad. She stitches his shoulder, feels his ribs gently, which thankfully don't feel broken, tapes them, spreads some antiseptic cream over his burned bratva tattoo and covers it with a clean white bandage. And he doesn't wince, not once. There's a distant look on his face, Felicity isn't sure if he's even aware of her presence anymore. The moment she's done, she drops her arms to her sides, to give him the space he clearly needs.
"All done", she says, and Oliver flinches at the sound. He looks up at her, nods and jumps down. Felicity turns around to bring him his gray hoodie he keeps in the lair. "I'm gonna take you home"
When she parks her car in the garage of her house, she turns to Oliver. His eyes are closed but she knows he's not sleeping. She's getting more and more concerned every minute since he haven't said a word. She doesn't want to push him but she just wants to hear his voice. There's time for that tomorrow, she thinks, and turns to open her door. Another thing that concerns her is the fact he didn't protest when she said she's bringing him to her apartment. It's not like him to just take whatever she says. So she draws a deep breath and prepares herself for the worst, once again.
Felicity gets up and walks right to the front door, not waiting for Oliver. She knows he doesn't like hovering. She's gonna take this at his pace. She hears Oliver opening and closing the door and she does a mental fist pump. Since when does Oliver getting up on his own is considered a victory? Felicity pushes the door open and goes for the elevator. The ride up is silent, and slightly awkward. Oliver haven't been in her apartment since... Well, since everything. She twists her hands in a nervous motion but doesn't show her anxiety otherwise.
When she opens her apartment door, Oliver hesitates. Felicity turns to look up at him and what she sees surprises her. Oliver looks around them, as if he just realized where she brought him. Maybe he did.
"Come on", she prompts gently, "We need to get to bed". Her eyes widen at her own words. "As in seperatly, totally seperatly. In bed. Or not in bed, like both of us. You can take the bed. I'm just gonna sleep on the couch"
Oliver looks down at her and smiles. It's barely there but still, it's a smile. She feels the corners of her mouth tug upwards and oh, it's so welcome feeling.
"I'm fine on the couch", he rasps.
Felicity's heart jumps at his voice but keeps her appearence unaffected.
"No, you need proper rest. My couch isn't that great. Or I mean it's fine for me but you should heal in peace. As in a proper bed. With proper mattress. And pillows.", she talks. There's the Felicity she knows. Maybe the stressful situation finally brings the babble. Thank god for that, it already made him talk. Oliver just nods and moves past her to go in the bathroom. Disappointment rolls over her in a wave but she's thankful he's taking the bed. She walks in her bedroom and cleans it up a little, for Oliver to sleep in.
Felicity shifts uncomfortably on the small couch in her living room. She couldn't sleep, she was right, the picture of Oliver on the ground is clear as a day in her mind. So she sits up to glance at the clock hanging on the wall. 3AM. Huh, she must've fell asleep at some point after all.
Sleep forgotten, she stands up and pads barefoot into the kitchen to get a glass of water. She passes her bedroom door on the way and wonders if Oliver's asleep. She fights the urge to steal a peek and is just about to keep walking, when she hears a sound. She freezes but it's gone as quickly as it came. Just a quick peek. He's my guest so I should make sure everything is alright.
The door opens with a creak and she cringes. With careful steps she slides inside the bedroom and her heart drops at the sight waiting for her. Oliver is laying in the corner of her queen size bed, a light layer of sweat glistering on his skin. The white t-shirt she had given him is glued on his chest and his hand is gripping the skin on his neck. What bothers her the most is his rapid breathing as he continues to trash around harshly. Felicity blinks to clear her vision from the tears that had suddenly formed to the corners of her eyes. There she is, concerned about her own sleep when Oliver is the one with nightmares. Felicity sniffs and clears her throat before speaking out loud.
"Oliver", she tries. Oliver keeps trashing, his breathing on the edge of hyperventilating. She calls his name again, a little louder this time, but there's no change. His words from the time when they were together play in her head.
"Never, and I mean ever, wake me up from a nightmare by touching me. I have a history of... getting violent, when waking up."
"Oliver, I trust you. You wouldn't hurt me"
"I almost killed my own mother when I first got back. Promise me, Felicity"
Felicity looks around her room to find something, anything, to make loud enough sound to wake him up. She moves towards Oliver with careful steps, ready to bolt if needed. Her eyes catch the crutches she used when she learned to walk again, casually leaning against her drawer. That doesn't make sense, she thinks. They have been sitting in her closet since that day she got up from that wheelchair. Unless Oliver took them out and placed them there. Her stomach churns at the thought. He knew this might happen and he wanted to make sure she had something to defend herself with. Against him. More tears spills down her cheeks, but she grabs one of them anyway.
She reaches the crutch out to poke Oliver with it ever so gently. The moment it touches his arm, his other arm shoots up to grab it and Felicity jumps back immediately. His eyes are wild as he takes in the room, still breathing heavily.
"Oliver", she peeps from the door. Oliver's eyes jumps to her and she shivers under his intense gaze. When their eyes meet, his soften as he recognises her. His gaze turns to the crutch she's still holding in front of her and she immediately drops it. Oliver, anyhow, quickly realizes the situation and his eyes drop from hers.
"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry", he begins to shake his head, already deep inside his own head.
"No, Oliver. It's okay. Everythings okay", Felicity breathes and moves to sit on the edge of the bed. But as she comes closer, Oliver shifts further away. There's hurt and fear in his eyes as he continues to shake his head and mutter his apologies. A wave of emotion rolls over Felicity, a sudden urge to protect him from himself. She wipes her face and reaches out to take his hand, but Oliver's already too far gone. He flinches violently at her sudden movement and crawls back as far as the bed allows him to.
"Oliver, it's just me, please", she whispers.
"I'm sorry, so sorry", he mutters more to himself at this point. Oh god, he's driving himself into a full panic attack, she thinks. Think, Smoak, think. Why won't her brain work today?
"Oliver, it's okay, you're okay", she reassures him.
"Please, Felicity. I don't want to hurt you"
Felicity stops at that. Her heart clentches painfully in her chest and she has to wipe her face again. Felicity watches as Oliver fists his shirt as he struggles to breathe.
"Okay, you need to breathe, Oliver", she prompts, keeping her distance, as much as it hurts her. "Remember those breathing excersises we did in Ivy Town? Can you try that for me?"
Oliver breathes deeply in and out, not nearly as slow as she'd like, but this has to do for now. "That's right. Breathe with me", she praises, breathing deeply herself. They sit like that for a few minutes, opposite each other, breathing at the same time. He keeps his eyes on hers and the rest of the world disappears for a moment. The panic fades slowly from Oliver's face, replaced by utter sadness. Tears glisten in his eyes and Felicity has to hold herself back. When he whimpers quietly, she shuts out everything else but the need to comfort him.
"I'm gonna come closer now", she says her voice raspy from her own tears. This time, thankfully, Oliver doesn't flinch and Felicity takes that as another victory. She moves up to sit in front of him and reaches her hand out. "Can I touch you?", she whispers barely audible, but he hears it. He nods. She moves both her hands to his face and hesitantly places them to cup his jaw. She takes in the feeling of his sharp stubble under her palm as she slowly strokes his cheeks with her thumbs. Oliver closes his eyes and leans into her touch which sends another rush of tears to escape her eyes.
"Oh Oliver", she whispers. Without thinking further, she slides down to lay on the bed more comfortably, pulling Oliver down with her. He hesitates only a second, and then he's laying down next to her. Felicity moves her other arm to wrap it around him and he burrows his face into her neck. Her other hand finds its way into his hair and she scratches his scalp gently. Felicity feels him relax completely into her, which makes her stomach flip. She haven't been this close to Oliver in a long time and she can't say she haven't missed it. Felicity feels Oliver's warm breath brush over her skin and it calms her.
"I thought he had you", she hears him mutter into her skin. The statement makes her face twist with emotion but she just takes a deep breath and holds him a little tighter. She hears him inhaling deeply, inhaling her scent and she realizes he's crying when she feels wetness on her skin.
"He didn't touch me. I'm save, I'm okay", she whispers into his hair and places a gentle kiss there. She feels him shiver and knows he's not cold. "We're okay, Oliver. Go to sleep".
Oliver breathes her in one more time, before placing his arm over her stomach, pulling her closer. His legs tangle with hers when she continues to stroke the back of his head in a calming motion. Felicity closes her own eyes and just holds him, treasuring this moment. She knows everything will be different in the morning. Right now, though, she doesn't think about prometheus or the fact he's still out there. She doesn't think about the conversation she knows she's gonna have with Oliver tomorrow. No, right now all she cares about is the man currently wrapped in her arms, legs tanged with hers, silently crying into her neck.
In a mere few minutes they're both asleep.