Work Text:
Oliver just barely managed to close the bathroom door before grabbing the edge of the toilet and throwing up.
“Oliver?” He heard Felicity calling his name and knocking on the door. “Oliver, honey, can I come in?”
He really wanted her there. He didn’t want her to see him like this, but he needed her.
“Yes,” he managed, sitting back on his heels and wrapping his arms around his torso, head hanging over the toilet.
The door creaked open and he heard light footsteps coming up behind him.
“Oh Oliver,” she said, wrapping her arms around him.
He let himself sag against her, to distressed to deny himself the comfort.
“Sorry,” he mumbled. “Sorry for waking you up.”
“Don’t be,” she murmured, gently kissing the top of his head. “You still feeling nauseous?”
He shook his head and got his feet underneath him, using Felicity to help him balance as he stood up.
They made it to the couch and Oliver curled into himself, pulling his knees to his chest. Felicity just sat next to him, wrapping her arms around him as much as she could.
“What’re you thinking?” she asked softly.
“Sometimes I wish everything was easier,” he mumbled. “No nightmares, no panic attacks, no flashbacks or PTSD or stupid scars. I’m just so tired.”
She held him tighter and he slowly uncurled himself, turning into her and closing his eyes.
“I’m sorry you have to deal with all of that. I wish you didn’t have to,” she said, moving a hand up to play with his hair.
“I just- How are you still here? How is this real?” he asked quietly.
“I’m still here because I love you,” she said. “I love you with all your flaws and scars.”
She lightly kissed one of the scars on his shoulder and he squeezed his eyes shut against the tears that he could feel just behind his eyes.
“I love you just the way you are. You deserve this, Oliver. You deserve to be loved,” she said firmly.
“But do I?”
“You do. I love you and you deserve every bit of that love.”
“I- I love you too.”