AU After "The Climb" S03E09.

Summary:

Determined not the let Oliver face his fate alone, Felicity, John and Roy plan a risky rescue mission to bring their teammate home. Meanwhile Thea decides it's time that she shares what she's learned about her brother and his friends.

Warning:

If you would like to avoid reading sexual situations, miss the last few paragraphs of Heartbeat and all of Ghosts, also the second half of last chapter, Relentless.

Disclaimer:

I don't have ownership of these characters or their stories. They belong to their respective creators, DC Comics, theCW, Andrew Kreisbreg, Greg Berlanti and Marc Guggenheim. The story is not for sale or resale, it is written solely for Arrow fans. No money is being made from the use of these characters

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The last thing he remembered was falling, the sharp throb of his liver spilling bile and lifeblood and his throat still choked before blacking out to the feeling of being embraced by a million icy needle points.

He didn't feel cold and he didn't ache. He was good at blocking out pain but not to this extent of Zen. He had to push through in order to even roll out of bed every day. It was strange, that he felt rested.

Recovering from the wounds Ra's had inflicted would have taken weeks, and that's if they'd been able to repair the damage to his liver. He wouldn't have a clue how long it might have been if he'd needed a donor. He ran his fingers lightly over his torso and encountered his old scars and the new one just under his last rib. It was thick and had a raised rough edge.

Touching the scar, he could remember the pain. The surprise and dread he'd felt in that moment of being so quickly overcome. He'd been trained to a knife point. He was sharp, aware, finely honed to his senses, ever aware of his limitations and his mortality. In that instant, on his knees he realized that he was outmatched and Ra's had been indugling him. The Demon Head was an intelligent man, he had to be to have the fear and respect of entire league of men and women who followed him into death, not to mention those who only knew him by reputation and had a healthy respect to avoid his notice.

Staring down a blade, Oliver had seen them. The women he loved. He'd seen them at their happiest whilst looking at him. Each one was a warm welcome... except for Felicity.

It was his own fault that each time he faced her, it was with heaviness of an aching heart. All he wanted was her safety and her happiness. Her smile was worth a million aches of his own making. Even if he ignored the risks, and let himself be with her, he wouldn't be able to give her the attention she deserved. He couldn't give her that and be the Arrow.

Barry was both right and wrong about him. The Arrow was so many things, a lot of it ugly and unworthy of any accolade, but he was necessary. He wasn't faster than the blink of an eye. He could be honest, he did wish he was even half as fast as Barry on a bad day. He could do so much more, and he'd be able to have a life. The one he kept to himself, the quiet dreams that he allowed himself to have when the nightmares didn't dominate his unconciousness.

He dared to open his eyes and took stock of everything he could feel. He felt warm. He was on a firm mattress with soft cotton sheets. He stretched out his legs experimentally and felt the material shift against his skin. There was no dull hum of electricity and server cooling fans. Which he would have expected to hear if somehow Diggle and Felicity had found him after his fight with Ra's and brought him home.

Was it strange that he thought of the Foundry as home? The mansion hadn't been home since before the island. The Foundry was were he felt grounded, safe and focused. It was where his team worked best. It's where they regrouped, trained and did their research. It was where he knew he could always find Felicity. Except when he hadn't.

He tried not the think about the night she had gone out with Ray Palmer. The night she hadn't chosen him. He had wanted to tell her what he thought but he stayed his tongue because he knew if he did, he would be taking away her choice. He knew how she felt about him.

There was a sharp ache in his chest and he rubbed it absently as he remembered the way he felt when Diggle told him that she wasn't there. That she'd went on that date. He refused to define the feeling that hit him. He still wouldn't, but he knew it was something like disappointment, anguish and despair all in one. He wondered at that moment if there would come a day where she wouldn't come at all. When she'd decide that his mission had taken too much from her. She had sacrificed her safety, her career, her social life, her love... He wished he could be the one worthy of her love.

He changed for Tommy. He had made that promise and he would fight to keep it. But it was Felicity that kept him fighting. He wanted to honor his friend's memory but he chose to be better for her. Because of her faith in him. Because he wanted to worthy of her faith. He wanted to be worthy of her love, even though he despaired over the thought that he was in no way deserving of her. He did what he could to protect the people of Starling, to protect the ones he loved. His family. He meant it when he had told Digg that he would never abandon Roy. He wanted to believe the best about those he loved because he knew he was the worst and how much having someone love him despite his ugliness meant. Even when the others believed he may have killed Sara. When Roy himself was disgusted and feared it himself. Just like he believed Thea to be innocent, even when he was faced with proof that she had been keeping secrets and lying to his face.

He blamed himself and his mother for the choices that Thea was making. Their mother had kept so much from them in the name of protecting her children. Even from the consequences of their own mistakes. How much jail time had he and Thea avoided due to her intervention? How many teachers and Deans had she mollified with promises and funding. His secrets were necessary but he knew it couldn't be helping his sister's life choices. She had turned to Malcolm Merlyn of all people and he had betrayed her.

Merlyn hadn't succeeded in turning Tommy into a mirror of himself but he was starting to with Thea and Oliver could only hope that his actions got through to his sister. He couldn't share everything about himself with Thea. It would put her in danger. More than she was already in but he could be her big brother. He could love her unconditionally and he could show her that he would be there for her in every way that he could. Like he would for every one of his family. Team Arrow was as much his family as Thea was. It was why they understood his decision to face Ra's. Even if they hadn't agreed with his choice. They were family. Family protect each other.

He wished he could show Felicity how much he loved her. How desperately he wanted to give her the love she wanted. What she deserved. To take her out on dates, show her off at parties and to spoil her with gifts and affection. Things he couldn't afford to do with the life he'd chosen. Things he might never be able to do. And it killed him a little inside to know that one day she would find someone she could love in his place. Someone that would be able to give her those things. He'd always hoped that if it happened it would be in a distant future. So when he'd seen her kiss Ray Palmer, he'd been faced with a right now that he hadn't been prepared to face.

Taking note of the room, he knew he had never set foot in it before. It had a lived in, welcoming feel, with warm tones and natural furniture, including the walnut stained sleigh bed he was currently sitting on.

Sunlight streamed through the single bedroom window. It was large window between two floor to ceiling wardrobe cupboards. The window seat between them was scattered with cushions in a myrid of colors and patterns. A few books, one titled The Catcher In The Rye. He couldn't draw any insight from it, who it might belong to aside from the fact that it was considered a literary classic. There was no name or inscription in any of the books.

Outside was a quiet suburban street. He could see the Starling City skyline in the distance. He estimated that he was probably about ten minutes out of the city.

In the small yard below, he could see it was the beginning of spring. So he had missed Christmas, Hanukkah for Felicity, he thought with a fond smile. The lush lawn was edged by a white picket fence and he mused that this place couldn't be more different to any other place he'd lived but it also seemed to be the picture of the clichéd American Dream.

Coming down the sidewalk he noticed a bundled figure walking along while carrying a large brown grocery bag. He couldn't see her face because her head was obscured by the 1920s style hat she was wearing and the bag she was carrying but he knew what walk and those hands anywhere. For as much as she may have watched him work out, he'd stood behind her watching her work her brilliance on her 'babies'.

Felicity had slender, creamy, perfectly formed fingers, always topped with expertly polished nails in some brilliant shade of pink, which always seemed to match her lips. He found it extremely distracting at times, since he couldn't look at her hands without thinking of her lips. And he couldn't think about her lips without thinking about their one kiss. Or the rare instances she had kissed him on the cheek or the jaw. Or when her lips had hovered close to his ear. He felt his face growing warm the more he thought about her mouth. And didn't realize he was smiling widely until his cheeks started to ache from the disuse of these particular muscles.

He rushed from the room and out the front door, when he saw her struggling with the gate. The cold morning air hit him full in the face and he went from relaxed restfulness to fully alert in a second, but that was nothing compared to the bite of the concrete path beneath his feet. But he hop-jogged to where she stood, trying to juggle the bag while closing the gate, and took the bag from her arms.

"Thanks but I had it, you don't have to be all chilvarous with me. I know you're used to sweeping in with a rescue, but I'm no damsel and... Oliver, where is your shirt. And your shoes!" she scolded, taking in his bare feet.

Her eyes swept back up to his face and her eyes narrowed while flashing preparing for a verbal viscerating. He'd seen those warning signs often enough. "I know you think you're tough, all you muscle macho types think you're invincible but you were on death's door. You were a hairs breath from waiting on a donor list, and I was hacking every known morgue and hospital to make sure we had a match just incase. Your coma lasted weeks and I'm not going to see you in a hospital bed like that again, Oliver. Not as long as I live. So as much as I and every other woman out there enjoys looking that prime body of yours, get inside before you tempt fate and I break out my whip and make you... Did I say that," she spluttered and blinked rapidly. "I didn't say that... I don't have a... Well I would never use it on you... Not without your consent. Only if you want to...No wait, forget I'm still talking," she said turning him to the door and pushing him along. "Three, two, one," she muttered softly under her breath, then she said conversationally, "So when did you get up? You got in really late, or should I say extremely early this morning, I though you'd sleep till lunch at least."

Oliver raised an eyebrow at that. They lived here together? When did that happen? After her maniac ex had kidnapped her and threatened her and her mother, Felicity had started scouting new properties. He hadn't pictured her as a suburban type but he wasn't at all adverse to the thought of living with her.

He was secretly a masochist. He had to be. That was all he could come up with to explain why he thought living with Felicity while being in love with her was a good idea. While he had gotten good at torture when Waller forced his hand, he didn't enjoy it. He had learned that some ugliness was necessary while dealing with people who had a low or complete disregard for human life. They only feared their own mortality, they had no respect for anything else. And for some it was pain more than death. Death was a quick release. Especially if you believed you had nothing to lose. So in order to save lives, he had learned to deal in torture and death.

A gentle hand on his arm pulled him from his morose dark thoughts.

"You were going there again. That place I can't follow," she said softly.

While she shed her coat and threw it over the armchair with one arm, she held her hand to his face, her thumb lightly stroking his cheek.

He put his hand over hers and encountered something rough. His brows drew together in a frown and her took her hand away from his face to inspect it. A green emerald surrounded by yellow gold and a sting of diamonds winked up at him and the blood drained from his face but that wasn't what rattled him the most. It was the prominent telling bump that protruded half a foot in the space between them that rocked him off his feet.

"Felicity," her name fell from his lips like a broken prayer.

She rushed to help him as he swayed and managed to awkwardly get him to sit down on the couch. She was breathless from the exertion. He wasn't a small guy and she'd struggled to support him before she was pregnant. With her extra baggage and stretched muscles, she had accomplished an near impossible feat of getting his uncooperative bulk to move anywhere.

"You're pregnant," he said in a disbelieving, heart-wrenching voice. His eyes were pleading and accusatory at the same time.

Felicity stared at him. Her mouth falling open. "Well yeah, horizontal rumba will do that on occasion. Certainly didn't happen by divine immaculate conception. Did you hit your head this morning? Stop looking at me like that," she cried in her loud voice. Her hand suddenly flew to her mouth as it widened in shock. "This isn't a joke. You're not pranking me are you? You really don't know. Oh my..."

She tore from the room and Oliver could only stare where she once stood, his world totally out of focus.

This wasn't a dream. He had to wake up. There was still time. He promised to come back. He needed to wake up. He couldn't let Felicity slip away. He loved her and he'd tell her properly. Not as a farewell but in a greeting. Hope for a new life.

A tear slipped down his cheek. This wasn't reality. His Felicity wouldn't marry someone else.