Work Text:
Decison
Twenty minutes outside the city Felicity had her answer. Digging for her phone, one hand on the wheel neither on the road she could hear his voice yelling at her to be careful, to pay attention. She incited more internal admonitions when she sent a quick text, ‘I will come home.’
John would know and understand, she didn’t say when, she didn’t know, but the city was home, they were family and she would go back to them.
Settled now that she had done that she turned all, most, of her attention back on the road.
The highway stretched out ahead of her, there were so many choices, options, she was free to do and go as she pleased. Smiling she turned the music up loud and let the possibilities guide her.
Day One
His jaw still ached, sliding his tongue along the raw skin inside his cheek it was a testament to how lax Oliver had become in some aspects that Diggle’s punch had taken him so unawares and connected so completely.
Stunned, staggering back all thoughts of fighting back vanished as the words bled through the sharp wave of pain. Diggle had been so mad, so angry in a way Oliver had never seen. A low, slow burn of words that were somehow worse had the other man been shouting at him.
Oliver had listened to the words, but had been unable to hear them, stuck as his thoughts were on one simple phrase, ‘she’s gone.’
Only Diggle’s threats, and by threats he meant that very literally, had he not immediately gone after her. The thought that she was in pain, hurting, took the breath from his lungs. The fact that he had caused her that pain; he had no words for that.
Day Two
Those first few hours had been the worst; he had replayed the scene over and over in his head, hearing Diggs’ words as he watched in his mind’s eye. She had believed him, Oliver had known that, she had told him so on the beach, her words light and a little wet; he knew they had been soaked in tears. A part of him, a larger part than he had previously known had known that she loved him, that she was in love with him.
Still he had used her love him, so obvious to everyone else including Slade, and done the unthinkable.
‘He had used her love to save his love.’
Diggle’s disgust at the quote was nothing, nothing compared to the disgust Oliver had felt. And she still she had told him she believed in him, that they would face what came together.
Felicity Smoak was better than any of them could ever hope to be.
Day Three
The second day he had been angry, at himself, Slade, Laurel, his Father, his Mother, Merlyn. He had worn his body out training, trying and failing to find his center.
Something had to give. He had to start letting go of what was or he would continue to lose was is.
He went to Laurel.
From a distance Oliver had watched her. He heard some of the old feelings whispering for him to take, to forget, to remember.
He could imagine kissing her then, their lips mashing together, she would cling to him as though she were drowning. When they parted, she would look at him and see Ollie, she would only ever see Ollie, who he used to be and never really who he was.
Thoughts of her had been a balm while he had been trapped on the island; Ollie had needed those thoughts as much as he had needed air.
Oliver Queen was a different man now he had changed and Laurel Lance was not the balm his soul ached for now. Oliver had thoughts of someone else entirely.
He left his rooftop perch, not turning for a final look; it was a closure that had been a long time coming.
Day Four
The fourth day he had been frantic, the idea that she wasn’t here but out there had him testing the limit of Diggle’s patience.
Oliver had peppered his friend with questions and what-if scenarios until John had given up and left for home. Left alone Oliver had passed the hours imagining all sorts of terrible things that could or would happen.
The idea that she would rather be alone out there than here with him, because it hurt, took him to his knees.
Day Five
Oliver drank.
Holed up in the ruins of the old Foundry he drank.
He drank until he couldn’t hold the bottle to his lips.
Day Six
Remorse settled in as swiftly as the hangover.
Diggle had dragged him back to base, dumping him unceremoniously in the shower, cold water rained over him as he threw up in the trash can Diggle had kicked over.
Clean, his head starting to pound, he walked out of the bathroom on shaky feet.
Digg handed him a bottle of water and a handful of pills.
The empty computer chair was a stark reminder of her absence. He had sat it on the fourth day, surprised at how comfortable it had been. His head had tilted back and the memories had come at him, better times, when they had argued or she had rambled, or he had just need to feel the warmth of her shoulder beneath his palm.
He had pushed those thoughts aside on that fourth day; he had not been ready for them.
Oliver was ready now.
Taking a seat, not hers, never again, it was hers. Diggle took the stool opposite and they finally had the talk that had been more than overdue.
Oliver talked about their first meeting, the disbelief in the rising of her eyebrows as he had given her a ridiculous explanation about his
laptop.
The crowd parting as he caught sight of her in the gold dress. Seeing for the first time just how stunning she was.
The disappointment on her face, the loss in her voice, after she confronted him about Isabel, the absolute truth of the words he had
spoken to her even though he was with Sara a week later.
The sorrow of her apology after the Count had tried to take her from him. Oliver had told her then that there had been no choice.
Diggle had listened had added a few of his own memories and observations. Had told him that life was short, their lives especially, that they had to hold onto what was good in the world or else what was the point of it all.
Diggle had pointed out that Oliver had been given a gift, a precious, remarkable gift and he was wasting it. He had pointed out that Oliver had kept her at arm’s length to protect her from the threats out there, but what had driven her away was right here.
The breath had caught in his lungs, his chest tightening as he realized, as comprehension settled on his shoulders.
Oliver had told her once that no matter what she told him she would never lose him.
He had never once considered that something he said would make him lose her.
Day Seven
On the seventh day he broke.