Chapter Text
Sometime in the future, 2070
The old man slowly shuffled his way down the corridor of the assisted living facility. He waited in line for his morning pills, had an apple for breakfast, made small talk with the other residents, then made a beeline towards her room. He hasn’t seen her since yesterday, and he misses her.
Please, God. Please let her have a good day.
He could tell that she’s being fussy with the nurse when he nears her room.
She doesn’t want to eat. She doesn’t want to take a walk. She doesn’t want to talk about it. She just wants to be left alone. She still knows how to operate a tablet for crying out loud. She’s not an idiot.
There stands the love of his life, dressed in a pink cardigan sweater and a loose grey skirt that doesn’t remotely fit her tiny frame. She’s wearing panda flats, similar to the ones she wore all those years ago when they first met, yet more suitable for an elderly woman. She’s still kept her fashionable edge, no matter what, and he’s loved her all the more for it. He enters the room with a light tap on the door.
“She’s being pretty stubborn this morning, Mr. Ollie,” the nurse whispered to him with a knowing, understanding tone. “May I try anyway?” The nurse sweetly nodded at him, “Of course, Mr. Ollie. If anyone can reach her, it’s you.” With that sentiment, the nurse winked at Felicity, and exited the room. It was just the two of them.
“Felicity Smoak? Hi, I’m Oliver Queen.”
“That’s not my name,” she retorted sharply. “I mean, my name is Felicity, but you messed it up just a little bit. I mean, that’s not my actual name. Why are you here? I’m so sorry. Who are you? How rude. Whatever it is that you want, I’m sure it wasn’t so you could come down here, and listen to a nutty old woman like me babble, which will end in 3, 2, 1. What I meant to say, is that my name is Felicity Queen. How funny is that? You and I have the same last name.“
She turned around, facing the window, clearly embarrassed by her ramblings. God, she was still so adorable. She remembered her name. That was a good sign. A great sign, in fact. Please, God. Please.
Oliver looked down at the floor to regain his composure, and smiled, wrinkles creasing around his forever sparkling blue eyes. Not the wrinkles from old age, but the good kind, the type that had formed from over 55 years of laughter, partnership, and true love. The smile reserved only for her, the smile that still flushed his cheeks until it reached his ears, and ran down his neck.
She slowly turned from the window, nervously pushing her glasses up her nose, and smoothing her now soft grey, almost white ponytail. He had seen her do this countless times over the years, especially in the early days, when she still wasn’t sure of him.
Those days when he would come to her with ridiculous excuses, and lies, yet she would help him anyway. Oh, God. Why didn’t he love her sooner?
She didn’t remember their life together, yet she still had the same reaction to him almost every time he entered her room. It never ceased to both elate him, and break his heart at the same time.
As he looked up at her, steel blue eyes met sky blue eyes, then suddenly, she smiled back at him. It was the first time he had seen that smile in weeks.
****
They’d had some really bad days recently. So bad, that Ava and Tommy had begged him to come home, to just let her go. He would never, ever let her go. Deep down, they knew that. She was his universe. They just missed their Dad.
Yes, they had awful days, some more heart-wrenching than others. Some days she would scream for the orderlies to get the crazy man away from her. Why was this stranger in her room? Those days he would just go back to his room, and break down.
The nurses would bring him coffee, just like she used to, after she vowed not to ever again. He had once told the nurses that particular story, about Felicity “violently” breaking the coffee maker after he made her his executive assistant without her consent.
They had belly laughed at Felicity’s moxie, yet still chastised him for being so obtuse in his youth. He had shown the staff pictures of them when they were in their prime, he could tell they were genuinely impressed with what a striking couple they made back in the day.
The staff doted on him, gave him special privileges to see her as much as they could. After all, he still had that smoldering charm that worked in his favor. However, when Mr. Ollie was hurting like he did some nights, they didn’t know what else to do.
They would stroke his back, assure him that she would be better tomorrow, and bring him coffee. He always appreciated the coffee, and he was sincerely grateful for their generosity and concern.
****
Then there were days like today, when she flashed that smile. The smile that would make his heart sing until the day he died. He didn’t have much time left, all he wanted was a few more smiles, a few more touches, a few more glances. He just wanted her. All he had ever wanted was her. He was going to try again. And again. And again.
“I live just down the hallway, and I was wondering if you’d like for me to read you a story? I have a really good one to tell. I think you’ll like it.” He sighed, and held his breath, awaiting her response. Please, God, please.
“Yes, Mr. Queen. I would love to hear your story. So long as it doesn’t involve kangaroos. Kangaroos really, really creep me out.” She scrunched her nose, and pouted her lips at the thought.
“By the way, if you don’t mind me saying so, your lips look like little pillow mountains. If that’s a thing, I mean. I bet you were really handsome when you were young.” She bit her lower lip, and it took every ounce of patience he had not to hug her, kiss her, beg her to remember him. Remember them. Please remember me.
His Felicity was still in there, and he was going to remind her. He took in another deep breath, then released it slowly.
“I have photo albums. I could show you. If you’d like. They do go along with the story.”
“A good story…and pictures? Do proceed, Mr. Queen. Do you have a note pad? As much as I love my tablet, I like to take notes by hand. And a red pen? Do you have a red pen? I prefer red. Oh, God. I’m babbling again. I don’t know why. It’s always been red. It was red.” Her faced relaxed, as if that fleeting memory from their first date had come back to her, if just for a moment.
“It was red,” she whispered.
Today was going to be a good day.
****
A long time ago, one beautiful June evening, amongst friends and family, they declared their sacred vows. It was the happiest night of his life. He wrapped her in his arms as they danced their first dance as Mr. & Mrs. Oliver Queen. They swayed slowly, they kissed beneath the stars, evaporating in the glowing candlelight, as the fireflies flickered in the forest behind them.
The clinking of champagne glasses, the sweet taste of wedding cake on their lips, and delightful laughter from loved ones filled the air. He didn’t want to blink that night, because in the back of his mind, it couldn’t be real.
He didn’t deserve her, did he? She told him that he did. She was an angel, his guardian angel, the light of his life. He would love her forever. It was all a beautiful whirlwind after that.
****
Long gone were the days of short skirts, shimmering cocktail dresses, and sky high heels that had always been his undoing.
Long gone were the tailored suits, tuxedos with suspenders, and form fitting henleys that had always been her undoing.
Long gone were the steamy nights of young lovers, firm bodies writhing together with unbridled moans of pleasure, a mass of tangled limbs, her long blonde hair cascading over his stubbled, chiseled face, locked in never ending kisses.
Long gone were the midnight dashes to the store to satisfy Felicity’s pregnancy cravings: mint chip ice cream, and dill pickle flavored potato chips. He still shuddered over that combination.
Long gone were the nights of chasing toddlers around the house until they were too exhausted to do anything but collapse into each others arms fully clothed, covered in peanut butter and finger paint.
Long gone were the days of swimming lessons, science projects, baseball games, and graduations.
****
Long ago, he watched their son marry his soulmate. Laurel Lance’s gorgeous, dazzling daughter, of all people. What a small, wonderful world. After the ceremony, Tommy told his dad that all he wanted was to make his new bride, Dinah, happy. “As happy as you’ve made Mom."
Oliver hugged his son tighter than he ever had, told him how proud he was. Then he went in the coat closet, and cried like a baby. He never told Felicity. It was one of the few things he ever kept from her.
****
Long ago, he gave their daughter away to the man of her dreams. Ava’s azure eyes danced with excitement and beauty, an exact replica of her mother’s eyes. She was perfect from the day she was born. He didn’t want to give her away, she was his, but he knew he had to.
He wanted to keep her safely snuggled in his arms, same as the day she came home crying after pre-school because some mean boy had pushed her on the playground, calling her a four-eyed geek. "Oh, honey,” he whispered against her sweet smelling hair, “he’s only saying that because he likes you."
Oliver chuckled as he remembered that day, because that "mean boy” really did “like” their precious Ava. In fact he loved her like the moon and the sun and the stars combined. One Mr. John Andrew Diggle was about to make one Miss Ava Dearden Queen his wife.
****
Long gone were the days of enjoying an early retirement; they had conquered the world together, after all. As CEOs, a mayor, philanthropists. Together with friends, they saved the city. They were heroes, they were legends, and they had earned their happiness.
They were finally content with simple pleasures such as long evening walks, curling under a blanket with a glass of wine as she read him Shakespeare, or reminiscing about their colorful past in front of a crackling fireplace.
“Felicity, you’re remarkable."
"Thank you for remarking on it.”
****
Long, long, long, gone were the nights of green leather, blonde ponytails, computer monitors, abs, biceps, salmon ladders, Glocks, blood, tears, sweat, arrows, and sacrifice.
Yet love remained. He had found her love there. He didn’t regret a single moment. Neither did she.
****
Not so long ago, the doctor delivered a sobering blow to Oliver Queen.
He then relayed the prognosis to their children, grandchildren, great-grandchildren, his sister, their best friends, nieces, and nephews.
They were all gathered in a room together, full of concern, worry, hope, and love.
Felicity had been forgetting things lately. Too many things. Felicity Megan Smoak. Felicity Smoak Queen. One of the most gifted, beautiful minds in the world, was losing hers.