Post 4x09. Angst and fluff.

It's only when everything has settled down that Oliver realizes that he has not cried.

There was shock, anger, an overwhelming cold fear that clenched his stomach so hard that he had to bend over because it hurt so much.

Then there was words and gestures of comfort for an extremely distraught Thea, and Donna, who was a sobbing mess.

Until now.

Now everything is quiet, except for the steady beeping of the various machines connected to her via too many tubes and wires. Quentin has convinced Donna to get back to the loft and get some rest, providing that he would stay with her. Oliver knows the man is deeply affected as well but,like Oliver, tries to hold it together for the people they love.

There's no one left except for him. So he lets go.

He cries at his own foolishness, for believing that a happy ending was finally within reach. He cries at the cruelness of fate, for giving him 8 months of happy stories only to viciously snatch all of it away. He cries because after proposing to her he had decided to come clean about William, repelled by the idea of lying to her even for just another hour.

His life had been cold and grey, and thanks to a bullet-rid laptop it had suddenly became a kaleidoscope of warm colors, incessant babbling, blonde ponytail and smiles as bright as the sun. Loving smiles and blue eyes looking at him with so much love and tenderness and faith, making him feel like he was worthy.

Like a hero.

He finds it ironic that people sometimes refers to his absence as being lost at sea. Because in all of his 5 years away, he's never felt as lost as he feels right now.

Going back to that grey is unimaginable. He won't survive it.

He doesn't even want to try.

Exhaustion gets the better of him and he drifts away for a few minutes until he feels the light weight of her hand on his hair.

He practically jumps from his chair but catch himself and carefully sits next to her on the bed.

"Hey," she mutters with a barely there smile and it's the most beautiful thing he's ever seen in his life.

"Hey. Are you in pain?"

She purses her lips, pondering his question. "No."

He huffs a shaky breath. "I really thought I lost you this time."

She shakes her head. "Nu-uh...you...still need me."

"Oh God, Felicity, I need you, and I love you, so so much…" His voice breaks on the last word as fresh tears flood his cheeks and he buries his face in her neck, his body wrecked by uncontrollable sobs. Her arms wrap around him as she makes some shushing sounds while gently scratching the back of his head.

He calms down after a few minutes, sits back a bit straighter and uses his sleeves to gently wipe the tears and snot he left on her cheek. "Sorry" he mutters.

She smiles. "You give me...big rock. Not going anywhere...until officially...Mrs Queen."

He chuckles before leaning in again, capturing her bottom lips between his.

"And then what?"

"Then...you and me...happily ever after...next 50 years...deal?"

Another kiss, another reminder that she's alive.

"Deal. Now get some rest."

She closes her eyes. "Stay?"

"I'm not going anywhere."

She hums her approbation before opening her eyes with a frown. "Not brain damaged...just too tired...to talk properly."

He settles his head on the pillow, his fingers delicately resting against her neck, as the strong and steady rhythm of her pulse starts healing the fractures of his heart and he can breathe normally again.