Last Call

Why?

He was here.

That was Felicity's first coherent thought as she opened her eyes, only to find him in the chair next to what she presumed was her hospital bed, his head laying beside her hip. The second being: He looked like death. Deep bags weighed beneath his puffy eyes. His normally short shaved stubble had become much more prominent, making him look so much older than he was.

But still, his face was void of its usual worry lines, the muscles relaxed, and peaceful. He looked young. Innocent. As if the burden he carried every day had finally been taken off. It reminded her that he's so much younger than the responsibility he took on. She wished he would get this release more often. She wished he could let go of the walls he had crafted around himself, and stop being the Arrow, or Oliver Queen, or Ollie, and just be Oliver. Her Oliver. She glanced down at her hand, where her fingers intertwined with his. She lifted her hand to his face, the tips of her fingers brushing his cheek before raking through his sandy blonde hair. He stirred, leaning into her touch. Her eyes widened, not knowing what to make of the reaction. She didn't have time to contemplate it though, as his eyes slowly blinked open, widening when they met hers.

"Hey," she whispered weakly, trying to lift her lips in what she hoped was a reassuring smile.

"Felicity," he breathed, his voice thick with sleep and emotion, and God she didn't know what to do when he said her name like that. Curling his mouth around it as if it was his favorite word.

"You're awake," he stated softly, before quickly adding, "Do you need anything?"

"Water, please," she rasped, her throat rough from disuse. She gulped down the water, ignoring the spark she felt as his fingers brushed hers on the glass.

He waited until she had finished, before asking quietly, "What happened?"

She tilted her head to the side in confusion, moving to shrug, when a sharp pain travelled from her shoulder, making her grimace. Oh. That.

She looked up to see his gaze fixed on her shoulder, guilt and regret swimming in his cerulean orbs.

"Oliver," she said softly, but firmly. "It was not your fault." She saw the disbelief clearly in his eyes, as he looked up at her. Because of course, he thought every problem in this world was his burden to bear. And it wasn't. So she looked him in the eye, and continued.

"When I got home last night, I realized I left my keys at the Foundry. I came back, checked some searches, and I was on my way back, when I felt a man reach out for me. He grabbed my purse, until I remembered your and Digg's training. I was able to get away from him physically, but he wasn't exactly the happiest. I didn't realize he had a gun, and ... welll ... you know the rest ..." she trailed off, averting her gaze.

"Yeah, I know the rest," he nodded, hesitating before continuing, "But what I don't know, is why you called me."

"What do you mean?" She said feigning confusion.

"You know exactly what I mean."

And she did. She knew he was asking her why she didn't call 911 or help, why she called him. And suddenly, she was done. She was tired of dancing around the truth. (She blamed it on whatever painkillers they had put her on, for saying what she did next.)

"Because you were the last person I wanted to talk to."

He drew in a sharp breath at her blunt (and uncharacteristically bold) answer. His gaze fell to the floor. She didn't want to have this conversation here, but she was finished tiptoeing around her feelings and this overwhelming tension that had been present between them since Isabel and Sara. Not that she could, after last night.

"Why?" The question was whispered so softly, she thought she was hearing things.

"Because I love you."

His eyes snapped to hers.

"What?"

"I love you," she repeated slowly, "I have for a long time. And I'm done dancing around this Oliver. Whatever this is between us."

His eyes fell once again, this time to their intertwined fingers. But he remained silent. She continued to blame the painkillers, when the words continued to spill out.

"Oliver, if you don't feel the same, please just say so. Just, please, stop dangling maybes. I can't handle it anymore. I'm tired. Just say no, so I can move on, and-"

She was cut off with his lips pressing against hers in a searing kiss. His hands moved to cup her cheek and neck, tangling in her hair while his lips moved against hers. When they finally had to pull apart, he rested his forehead against hers breathlessly.

"I do. I do love you Felicity. I love you so much," his thumb brushed over her cheekbone, "That's why I can't be with you."

She shook her head, her eyes never leaving his.

"I don't understand."

His fingers rose to ghost over the cut at her hairline.

"You got hurt last night," he whispered. She opened her mouth to protest, but he cut her off with a shake of his head. The desperation in his eyes told her how much he needed to say this. So she stayed quiet.

"If, if we were to do this. If I was to allow myself to be with you, it would paint a target on your back. And I can't have that Felicity. I need you safe, more than I need my own life. Ever since you came into my life, you've brought a light with you that finally pulled me out of the dark waters of that ocean. That finally brought me back from that island. And," his voice broke, "you almost died last night. You almost died and I couldn't protect you. Being with would just draw more danger to you. People would use you to hurt me. I told you, that because of the life that I lead, I couldn't be with someone I cared about. I realized how true it was the night The Count had the syringe pressed against your neck. That's still true. No matter how much I don't want it to be, no matter how much I want this, I can't, I won't, be the cause of your pain Felicity. I love you too much for that. I love you. And I need you safe Felicity. I need you." The water that had been gathering in his eyes was close to spilling over.

"But it's my choice Oliver," she said, cupping his jaw in her hands. "I understand you want me to be safe, but, what about me? Don't my opinions matter? I told you I love you. And I do. I want to be with you, regardless of the consequences. It's up to you to decide what you want. And I will wait, Oliver. I will wait, as long as you need me to."

"Why?" He whispered to her, between the small amount of space that separated them. "Why do love me? Why do you want to wait? What is it that you see in me Felicity? I'm broken. I don't deserve happiness, I don't deserve you. Why do you stay and wait and believe and love?"

She smiles at him, pressing her forehead against his even harder, nudging her nose against his.

"Because you are a good man Oliver Queen. And no matter what you say, you do deserve happiness. You deserve to be loved. You deserve it all. And I would be honored to give it to you."

He stayed silent for a minute, before brushing his lips against her softly, slowly, in a brief kiss.

"You are remarkable Felicity Smoak."

She gives him a bright grin, accompanied by a breathy laugh.

"Thank you for remarking on it."

Hey guys! I was always planning on continuing this past a oneshot (I love happy endings too much). The rest has been on FanFiction.Net for a while, but I decided to move it over to Wattpad too!
Disclaimer: I do not anything related to Arrow!