Everything's Not Lost

Rating: T

Pairing: Oliver/Felicity

Season/Episode: Season 2, potentially 2x09

Category: Hurt/comfort, angst

Synopsis: She'd pushed him away, forced him to go off on his own, and now she was paying the price as he lay on that cold metal table fighting for his life.

AN: So I reused a story I wrote originally for 2x07 but didn't want to post. But when I read the summary for 2x09, I decided this would be a great way to reuse the fic I hadn't posted. So, yeah, enjoy!

Thanks to hopedreamlovepray, anthfan and girlwithsixsmiles for the beta.

Disclaimer: (the usual, don't own, idea was mine though)

"Take these and start crushing them into a powder." The order was clear, but she heard the slight tremor in his voice as he thrust the little pouch into her hands along with the pestle and mortar. Of all the scenarios that had gone through her mind on what would happen after they found him that night, this was one she hadn't anticipated.

She rushed to a nearby table and placed the items on top, throwing off her coat before doing as she was instructed.

"How much do I use?" she asked in a huff after opening the pouch to find the island herbs inside.

"I don't know, half?" he replied, his voice wavering as she dumped half the contents into the mortar and quickly began to mash them with the pestle. Her partner was doing an awful job quelling her fears about the fate of the man that lay on the steel table a few feet from her.

"Now what?" she threw over her shoulder, grinding the last of the herbs into a fine powder.

"Add water." Nodding, she ran to the fridge and threw it open, grabbing a bottle of water and returning to her post to mix it with the herbs. She'd only seen Oliver do this once before, the second to last time Vertigo had been a problem in the city, but this was very different. Her friend's life was at stake if she didn't do this right.

The feral, animalist scream had her swiveling around sharply to find what looked like a scene from a horror movie unfolding in front of her. "Oliver!" she cried, rushing to his side. She would have been wrapped around him by now if a pair of arms hadn't kept her at bay.

"Stay back, Felicity," Diggle warned. The look in his eyes scared her. She stepped back, glancing between him and Oliver, who was currently curled up on his side, pure agony written all over his face as he dug his fingers into the cold steel looking for something to cling to as wave after wave of pain crashed over him.

Several syringes were thrust into her hand, giving her something else to focus on. Felicity knew what to do without having to be told. Returning to the other table, she took one syringe and filled it with the liquid mixture inside the mortar before placing it on the table and filling another.

In total, there were about four syringes worth of the life-saving fluid. All she could do was hope it was enough to push whatever drug he'd been given out of Oliver's system before it had time to do anymore damage.

When she turned around, her eyes widened upon seeing Diggle handcuffing Oliver to the table. "Is that necessary?" she balked.

"Yes," he answered without hesitation. When she glared at him, he added, "After what happened last time, I'd say this is a necessary precaution."

"What happened last time?" Felicity hesitantly replied.

"You don't wanna know." It was the resigned way in which Diggle said the words that had her thinking maybe he was right. She was probably better off not knowing, but it still hurt to see Oliver like this. Her heart ached to do more than just stand there. She wanted to wrap her arms around him, pull him into her chest and hold him until the pain subsided.

"Give me a syringe," Diggle ordered. Felicity grabbed one off the table and placed it in his outstretched palm. They glanced at each other for a moment before he said, "Here goes nothing." Rolling up Oliver's sleeve, he plunged the needle into his arm, injecting his friend with the first dose of the herb concoction.

The gut wrenching scream that echoed off the concrete walls had Felicity throwing her arms around Oliver's neck, her fingers sinking into his hair as she held him the best she could under the current circumstances. Before long, his panting breaths and erratic heartbeat slowed. She continued to hold him as he strained against the handcuffs until finally his taut muscles went slack and he fell limp in her arms.

Gently laying him down on the steel table, Felicity threw off her cardigan and balled it up before she placed it beneath his head as a pillow. Her fingers lingered against his temple, thumb stroking overheated skin.

Felicity didn't know the reason why Oliver had been in that alley fighting that night. It wasn't until Diggle had called her telling her Oliver was missing that she realized he'd gone off on his own. They knew about the man who'd been stalking the Glades, preying on drug dealers and gang bangers. Oliver had initially wanted to make contact to see if he was another wannabe or if he posed a real threat. Apparently, it had been the latter.

The tracker in his boot proved to be useful as always, leading them straight to where he'd fallen. Felicity had sprinted out of the car the moment Diggle stopped, her eyes spotting the green leather even in the darkness. Rushing to Oliver's side, she found him staring up, eyes unfocused. He seemed disoriented and looked a little worse for wear, but there were no other major injuries she could see just then.

When her fingers brushed over his cheek, Oliver's eyes finally came to focus on her face and a dopey smile found its way onto his lips. "Felicity," he breathed her name like it was the air to his lungs.

Her heart fluttered as she smiled back and whispered, "Yeah, I'm here. You're okay now." She got up off her knees and held out a hand to him just as Diggle came up from behind. Together, they helped Oliver off the cold, wet ground, grabbed his bow and quiver, then quickly returned to the car.

They sat together in the backseat, her arm around his shoulders and his head resting against the crook of her neck. Oliver had leaned into her embrace and begun to tremble slightly. She'd initially thought it was the adrenaline wearing off, like all the other times he'd come back from an intense mission, but the shaking worsened. Before long, he'd broken out into a cold sweat and his eyes fell closed before he went completely limp.

Felicity's fears skyrocketed as she shouted to Diggle what was going on and he gunned it the rest of the way to the foundry. She held Oliver close, letting his head fall into her lap as she kept her fingers against the pulse point in his neck to make sure they weren't going to lose him. He must have been dosed with something in order to be acting like this, but what she didn't know exactly. She hoped to get a blood sample and find out once they got back to the lair.

The task of bringing him down the stairs had mostly fallen on Diggle, but Felicity's arm remained around his waist until they'd laid him out on the table as he was now. Once he was on his back, she grabbed a syringe and and extracted a few cc's of blood then quickly started to analyze it before Oliver had woken up, dazed and confused and in quite a lot of pain.

Gentle fingers now stroked his forehead, wiping away beads of sweat that clung to his skin as her eyes raked over his leather suit looking for signs of a puncture wound of any kind. Felicity couldn't see one just yet, but she knew it had to be there somewhere hiding under all that green.

Diggle had hooked him up to the heart rate monitor and started an IV to replace the fluids he lost as the drug slowly made its way out of his system. Pulling up her chair, Felicity sat down and took Oliver's hand, lacing their fingers together as she held it as close to her as the handcuffs would allow.

Her chin fell to the table beside his head and she whispered, "Please be okay." A pair of tears slipped down her cheeks, soundlessly landing on the cool steel. Her other hand came up to stroke his cheek as she closed her eyes and prayed to every deity she knew for his survival.

"I think I found it," she heard Diggle say and her head shot up immediately. He'd been looking for the puncture site as well and when Felicity looked up, he pushed down the collar of Oliver's jacket. There she saw it, the telltale red pinprick of a needle against his skin.

Her lower lip began to tremble, yet no matter how hard she tried, Felicity couldn't stop the sob from escaping her throat. "This is all my fault!" she cried, her guilt finally pushing through to the surface.

Ever since the incident with the Count, things between them had felt off. The fact that Oliver had killed to keep her safe made Felicity regret her decision to follow the lead she'd found before all hell broke loose. Even after he'd told her there was no other choice to make, she still wondered why he'd done it. He'd broken his vow to Tommy for her. Could he possibly…?

No, Felicity couldn't let that thought cross her mind. She forced herself to remember Russia and the days that followed their return to Starling City. Oliver's words still stung since she saw the honesty in his eyes when he said them.

"Because of the life I lead, I just think I shouldn't be with someone I could really care about."

She'd told him he deserved better, and even if he thought he didn't, she knew, in her heart, he was a good man and deserved a better life than he currently had, even if it wasn't with her.

But then everything with the Count happened, and the world felt as if it had tilted off its axis. The jumbled mess Felicity's feelings became after that night made it nearly impossible to think until she'd met Barry Allen. He'd been a sight for sore eyes and a balm that soothed her tired soul.

For a moment, she was able to forget about Oliver and all the crazy he'd brought into her life. For a moment, she'd been happy. Barry had given her attention she never realized she craved until the night he left Starling City to go home to Central City.

There was no doubt in Felicity's mind that Oliver felt something while she'd been with Barry. He called her constantly, trying to get her to work extra hours not just at Queen Consolidated, but in the lair as well.

It was the straw that broke the camel's back, forcing Felicity to push him as far away as possible. She'd said a few things that, in hindsight, had been out of line, and now she regretted them because it had forced him to go off on his own, without her aid or intel. And that was why he was laying on that table now, fighting for his life yet again.

The comforting pair of strong arms that encircled her brought little comfort. "He'll be okay, Felicity," Diggle tried to ease her mind, but there was nothing he could say that would take back her actions. Oliver was laying on that table because of her and there wasn't much else she could do except sit by his side and wait it out. This was going to be an exceptionally long night.

The hours passed slowly, more slowly than Felicity would have liked. She paced the foundry floor, chewing on her thumbnail until there was nothing left to chew. She chipped away the bright purple nail polish on her other thumb and pinky, but it brought her no relief.

About two hours into her vigil, Diggle had removed Oliver's handcuffs allowing her to ease the leather jacket off his shoulders. The grey t-shirt he wore beneath was soaked through with sweat so she gently removed that as well. Felicity wrapped him in a blanket even though she knew he'd probably benefit from a fan instead. His skin was still hot to the touch, but the fever he'd been running since being dosed was slowly going down.

Grabbing a bowl of cold water from the sink, Felicity found a small washcloth that she used to wipe away the green war paint from around his eyes then used it to dab his forehead from time to time, removing the sweat that continued to bead there.

With a sigh, she took her seat beside him and slipped her hand into his. She was exhausted, her eyes drooping as she leaned back in her chair.

The clock on her computers read two in the morning. Felicity had no idea how they'd make it into the office at eight. Most likely, she'd end up calling them both in sick with food poisoning, or have Diggle do it for her to make it believable. She could just see Isabel's angry glare when she found out that both Oliver and his assistant were both "sick" with food poisoning. Yeah, that would go over well the following day…

Taking a deep breath, Felicity let her head fall against the cool metal table beside his shoulder. She decided to close her eyes for just a moment, her heavy lids desperate for the sleep she refused to succumb to. Since Oliver looked to be stable now, she drifted off.

It was the screeching of alarms that brought Felicity to full attention. Her eyes flew open as she glanced at the monitors still hooked up to Oliver. Something was very wrong. His heart was racing and he was trembling. Diggle was at her side a moment later just as Oliver went into a full blown seizure.

"Give me another syringe!" he barked. Felicity jumped and scurried over to the table, grabbing the second dose of life-saving liquid. It was quickly administered through the IV, but the convulsions didn't stop.

Tears pricked Felicity's eyes as she continued to watch Oliver struggle. She wanted to do something, but what? There wasn't much aside from standing there and waiting it out, praying that it wouldn't get any worse. Whatever he was dosed with, it was wreaking havoc on his body. She hoped the second injection would help push it out of his system, but it didn't stop her from blaming herself.

The longer Felicity stood there watching him, the more guilty she felt. Why had she been so awful to him? Why had she pushed him away? Why hadn't they talked it out like normal people? Right, like Oliver Queen was a normal person…

Still, Felicity wished there was something she could have done to let him know she was still his friend and that he could count on her. But somehow, she'd partially burned that bridge after meeting Barry. Her heart sank lower as tears streamed down her cheeks.

She found Diggle's arms around her once more. "I did this to him," Felicity wept. "This is my fault!" He held her tighter, not saying a word as she continued to cry.

This was the worst feeling Felicity had ever felt. It was stronger than the guilt of constantly lying to her parents about why she accepted Oliver's "offer" to be his executive assistant when she'd gone to MIT to study computer sciences. It was even worse than breaking plans with her friends when her second job unexpectedly called her in to work at night. No, she had betrayed Oliver's trust in the worst way possible: she'd pushed him away when she needed to have his back.

Her tears continued to slip down her cheeks until she looked over at the table and saw he'd finally gone limp again. A deep, shuddering sigh escaped her lips as she sagged into Diggle's embrace. "He'll be okay," he reminded her.

"He has to be," Felicity mumbled. "He needs to know how sorry I am."

"Hey, as long as he knows you're okay, that's enough of an apology for him," Diggle replied.

"But it's not enough for me!" she shouted. "I have done nothing but push him away these last few weeks because I didn't know what was going on between the two of us. Things happened that threw off our balance, and then Barry came to town and I kept pushing Oliver away. I pushed him until he didn't think he could come to me for help. And that's why he needs to know I'm sorry. I never meant to hurt him. I never meant to put our friendship on the line, but I did and I regret it."

Felicity felt him rub her back in soothing circles trying to calm her, but she couldn't think of anything aside from her guilt. It ate away at her, crumbling the walls she'd built around her heart to keep herself from falling for Oliver, but seeing him like this, she could no longer deny her feelings.

Her heart, her soul, belonged to him. Oliver had somehow woven himself into the very fabric of her being and there was no way he was letting go. Somewhere between the first time he'd walked into her office with that stupid laptop and this very moment, Felicity had fallen for him. And she'd fallen hard without a safety net.

Whenever he went out on a mission, she worried. Whenever someone attacked him in a public forum, her heart ached. Whenever he beat himself up for something he'd done in his past, she was there to put him back together.

But all that changed when Barry had shown interest in her. She'd thrown Oliver's friendship to the wayside because she felt like he was suffocating her and she wanted to see where things went with the cute CSI. Had she known it would only end up hurting them both in the long run, she never would have done it.

Her friendship with Oliver was far more important than a fling with a guy who was only in town for a few weeks. But Felicity knew it wasn't just friendship. While she was with Barry, all she could think about was Oliver; what he was doing, how he was getting along without her, if he needed her help with anything, if he was okay. Her heart ached when she realized he wasn't okay, that she'd hurt him to the point of closing himself off again.

Neither she or Oliver would ever admit having feelings that went beyond friendship, but in this moment, as Felicity stared down at him lying on that table, she knew he wasn't just her friend. She loved him, with all her heart. The revelation hit her so hard her knees nearly gave out. She was glad to have Diggle's arms supporting her. If they hadn't been, she was sure she would have collapsed on the floor by now.

He helped her into a chair before grabbing a handful of tissues and placing them in her shaking hand. "Thank you," Felicity meekly replied, using one to wipe the tear tracks away from her cheeks as she did everything in her power to push back her feelings. But every glance at Oliver reminded her just how much she cared about him, how much she needed him.

Rolling closer to the table, she leaned in and softly whispered, "Please be okay. I'm so sorry. I don't want to lose you. I can't lose you." Felicity pressed a soft kiss to his forehead before sitting back in her chair, wiping away the last of her tears with a tissue.

She remained there for the rest of the morning, her legs curled up to her chest as she watched Oliver, too afraid to fall asleep again. No matter how much her eyes wanted to shut, Felicity fought the urge. She got up a few times, to grab some water or go to the bathroom, but she was never far from his side.

By the time eight o'clock rolled around, Felicity was so exhausted her entire body felt as if it would drop. But she stayed awake, her bloodshot eyes trained on Oliver as he remained unconscious. Diggle's hand on her shoulder startled her out of her stupor.

"I called you two in sick today," he said, giving her a faint smile.

"Thank you," Felicity rasped, her voice a little hoarse from not having spoken in so long.

"Why don't you get up and move around for a little while?" Diggle suggested as he nudged her out of the chair. She gave him an incredulous look and he added, "I know you don't want to leave Oliver's side, but you look like you're about to pass out. I put on a pot of coffee. It should be ready."

Giving him a grateful smiled, Felicity gingerly eased her legs down from the chair and stood up. Having sat in the same position for so long tended to make her muscles tight. She stretched out for a moment, feeling the bones in her back pop into place as she raised her arms over her head.

She had to admit, it felt good to get up, and the delicious scent of her favorite coffee wafting through the air gave Felicity all the more reason to wander around the lair for a moment and get the blood flowing back into her limbs.

Her first stop was the coffee pot. Although it was still extremely hot, the warm liquid felt good on her parched tongue. The caffeine was also an added bonus, its effects immediately felt as she perked up for the first time in what felt like days.

Felicity's next stop was her bank of large computer screens. The time on each one read 8:14AM. As much as she enjoyed playing hookie from work, today was one of those days where the comfort of sitting behind a screen answering phones was preferred.

Anything was better compared to sitting at Oliver's side as he lay unconscious after being possibly poisoned. The analysis she'd done on the blood sample continued to come back with a combination of unknown substances even after it had been tested three times.

Speaking of poisoned… "Hey, Dig, what excuse did you use to call us both in sick?" Felicity asked.

"Food poisoning," he answered.

She smiled wanly. "Have you been reading my mind?" she replied.

"As cool as that would be, no, you kept muttering it earlier while you were watching Oliver."

Slapping her hand against her forehead, Felicity groaned. "I really need to stop doing that." Diggle simply smiled at her as she returned to Oliver's side and sat back down in her chair again, coffee cup in hand.

She cradled it between her fingers for the next hour, taking small sips to keep the caffeine flowing in her system. Her exhaustion ebbed for the time being. When the cup was empty, Felicity swiveled around and placed it on her desk. Raising her arms over her head, she stretched out once more before turning to Oliver.

What she saw when her gaze settled on him put a smile on her face. His head was turned towards her, azure eyes open slightly. "Hey," Felicity whispered, her heart nearling leaping out of her chest with joy that he'd made it through the night. She reached out and slipped her hand into his palm. The other came to rest against his forehead, her fingers gently stroking through his hair in soothing motions. "How do you feel?"

Her heart did a little flip as relief flooded through her. Oliver was alive and awake. He might not have been at a hundred percent, but he was going to be okay once the drug completely made its way out of his system. Felicity was just glad that he'd finally opened his eyes and was gazing up at her softly, no trace of anger, or anything else for that matter, on his features. She knew once he was feeling like himself again, it would be a different story, but for now, she reveled in just having him awake.

"Mmm… headache," Oliver mumbled before closing his eyes again in response to her calming touch.

It was like petting a giant, sedated panther, Felicity thought to herself with a lopsided smile. She leaned down and pressed a kiss to his forehead. "Get some rest," she softly replied before kissing him once more on the cheek. "You've had a rough night."

She was pulling away to grab a second blanket when he tightened his hand around hers and opened his eyes. "Stay," Oliver breathed, tugging her arm lightly towards him as the ghost of a smile touched his lips.

In that moment, she couldn't deny him. He scooted over, indicating that he wanted Felicity not just at his side, but as close as possible. Kicking off her flats, she hopped up onto the table. Her arms slid around his neck and she pulled herself forward until her body completely enveloped his.

Oliver nuzzled her neck with his nose before brushing his lips against the soft skin beneath her chin. It sent a shiver down her spine. She had to remind herself that he was still probably under the influence of whatever drug he'd been dosed with.

"You look tired," he murmured.

"Don't worry about me," Felicity replied as she carded her fingers through his hair and pressed light kisses to his forehead. It was entirely too intimate for their current relationship, but she'd been doing it all night. Why stop now that he was awake? If it provided him a little comfort, then she'd keep doing it.

"I always worry about you," Oliver said, his voice remaining soft and low. He didn't lift his head though, choosing instead to cuddle against her warmth and close his eyes.

"I'm sorry for pushing you away so much these last few weeks." Felicity sighed, her hands coming to rest against the base of his neck. "I didn't realize I was hurting you until it was too late." Tears threatened to spill down her cheeks again as she buried her face in the damp strands of his hair.

Oliver pulled back slightly and his eyes settled on hers, azure to aquamarine. She couldn't read him, his mask having fallen into place as he studied her. "You didn't push me. If anything, I pushed you away, and I'm sorry for being so awful to you while Barry was here. It wasn't my place to butt into your personal life because I take so much of your time away already."

Her eyes widened as she stared back at him in surprise. Oliver was admitting things she never thought he would. Opening and closing her mouth a couple of times, Felicity still couldn't find the words to express just what she wanted to say at that moment. "It's still my fault," she muttered. "I shouldn't have done that to you. I shouldn't have put our friendship on the line like that. I shouldn't have…"

Her words were silenced by his finger covering her lips. At first she was surprised by Oliver's sudden move, but the thought quickly floated away from her mind when his hand came up to cup her cheek. "It's not your fault," Oliver whispered. "I just… I didn't want to bother you. I knew you needed some space to figure things out, so I did exactly what I had done before we ever met. It was a mistake in hindsight, and I hope you're not mad at me."

Little creases formed on his forehead as he stared at her with concern she hadn't seen since he'd found her tied up in the conference room with the Count pressed to her back. "No, I'm not mad," Felicity reassured him with a comforting smile of her own. Her fingers stroked through his hair again before she leaned in and placed a soft kiss to his forehead.

Oliver sighed and buried his face in her neck once more. "Then get some sleep," he murmured, his arms settling around her waist. "You look exhausted."

"Okay," she breathed against his ear then closed her eyes. The relief Felicity felt knowing everything was going to be alright with not just Oliver, but with everything else as well allowed her to give in to sleep. Even though she hadn't admitted her feelings for him, he still knew just how much she cared about him and vice versa.

He was by her side now, arms banded around her waist with his face burrowed into her neck. Felicity sighed, kissing his forehead once more before finally being pulled into sleep.