So, I lied. Have a drabble. This is inspired, somewhat, from a post by otpprompts on tumblr about a world where when one person is harmed, their soulmate is harmed in the same way. I didn't follow that quite exactly simply because of the logistics. See this more as being about the physical pain and the scars being shared if not the huge amount of blood loss. Because something about that set up seems to fit Olicity really well.

Oliver drops his hands from Felicity's sides and steps back.

"How..." he starts, struggling to continue. "How long have you known?" he finally says, barely able to speak above a whisper. She shifts nervously and wraps her arms around herself before answering.

"It didn't take long once I was part of the team, I'll tell you that," she replies, giving him a small smile. Oliver sits down heavily on the edge of her bed. He was planning to lay her down on it only moments ago, before she removed her shirt and he saw his own scars mirrored on her body. Before he knew they were soulmates.

"Why didn't you ever say anything?" he mutters. She doesn't answer, instead stepping toward him. She tries to reach out and place her hand against his cheek, but he pulls away.

"Because I didn't want it to affect our work," she explains and gently grabs his face in both hands, so he has to look at her.

"Felicity, I'm so sorry," he starts, "I never would have kept—"

"Oliver, stop," she interrupts, voice firm but kind. "Don't you dare punish yourself. I kept this from you because I didn't want you to stop trying to save the city just to save me. What we do is important." She steps toward him and hitches up one leg and then the other to straddle his hips before she sits in his lap. "I can handle a few more scars if it means we keep helping people," she finishes.

Oliver sighs in disbelief and then wraps his arms around her, as if he can somehow protect her from what's already happened. He stares at her a few moments, thinking back on how careful she's always been to keep certain parts of her body covered and kicking himself for never realizing why. All those hot summer days she would insist on wearing one of many colorful cardigans regardless of how high the temperature climbed. All those times he would come back to the lair with an injury and mistook her pained expressions as pure empathy. He leans forward and presses his lips to the scar on her left shoulder, the one made by the gunshot that brought her fully into his life.

"I can't believe I never realized," he says, lips brushing against her skin.

"I got pretty good at hiding it after the first couple," Felicity says. She sighs and relaxes against him, tangling her fingers in his hair before she leans down to kiss his temple. His hands brush over the mottled burn mark on her lower back and she lets out a small, breathy laugh. "I was in the middle of a job interview when that one happened," she explains, "unsurprisingly, they didn't hire me."

Oliver laughs as he falls back onto the bed, pulling her down with him, but he's given pause by a sobering thought.

"You must have been in so much pain," he says, cringing both at his own memory of getting the scar and the thought of her hurting. She frowns and stares down into his eyes a moment before speaking.

"It used to scare me, how much you were getting hurt," she admits, her expression taking on that pained look he only really understands now. "But it got easier when I realized that you would survive everything that happened."

"What do you mean?" he asks, confused.

"You were my soulmate," she says simply. "I wouldn't be getting hurt too if you weren't meant to survive long enough for us to meet."

Oliver can't help but smile at that. Felicity, ever the optimist. He flips them over then and slowly undresses her, gently kissing her scars each time a new one is revealed. In the morning, when he wakes up beside her, he feels better about the marks on his body and desperately hopes never to add more.