#toriposts

I wet a paper towel with some cold water, dabbing at my cheeks and eyes and being careful not to ruin my makeup as I did so. I exited the bathroom, looking down as I made my way back to my seat. I felt myself bump into a tall chest and muttered an apology before a cold hand gripped my arm. 

"Are you okay?" His words were spoken softly, the music quiet enough for me to hear him. 

"Fine," I attempted. "Where did-"

"She left." He began walking towards our seats. "Her boyfriend came to pick her up.” 

"I’m sorry." I mustered as much sympathy I could manage before trying to step around him. 

"You know we're not together, right? We only came as friends."

I nodded slightly, unbelieving, before grabbing my friends hand and pulled her up to dance. 

"Come on." I laughed when she refused to get up, and she giggled behind me, finally letting me drag her to the dance floor.

11 PM.

Exhausted, I put on my heels, ready to leave for the night. I grabbed my keys and my friend, making sure I was okay to drive before walking out the door. 

I felt a cold hand on my arm and turned expecting to find a very drunk blonde grabbing at me. Instead, I watched her walk back inside. He stood too close to me, and I stopped in my tracks before I ran into him. 

"What are you doing?" I pulled my arm from his grasp. "Go back inside, you're drunk." 

"I haven't had a drink all night." He stepped closer to me and I backed away, finding my back pressed against a wall. He didn't take another step, aware of my clear discomfort. "We were only-"

"I get it, you were only there as friends." I pulled myself away from the wall and began to walk away, but he stopped me again, with his hips this time, pushing me farther back against the wall. My breath came in shorter gasps, and I didn't know whether to be scared or hopeful. He hesitated a second before leaning down, and I felt his lips brush against mine, asking for permission. I pulled away, and he backed up.

“You used to like me like this,” he breathed, his eyes a little disappointed. 

"Used to. But as you've clearly pointed out multiple times tonight, we're just friends." 

He took another step closer, and my heart sped up as his left hand moved to cup my cheek. "And what if I don't want that anymore?"

************************************************************************************* "I'm just confused," he had said, and I could feel my heart breaking as he let go of my hand. "And I don't want to drag this out and hurt you." Tears welled up in my eyes as I turned away from him. "Please, stay my friend. I can't lose you, not like this."

*************************************************************************************

"I can't..." I started. His expression made me falter. He looked truly heartbroken. I took a deep breath and tried again. "I can't enter something that I know is going to end up hurting me more than walking away from you right now will." I felt the tears fall down my face, and he brushed his thumb across my cheek, wiping them away.

Stay awake. I had had a good life. Open your eyes. I’m not going to lie, not everything was going great at the moment, but…  Open your eyes Abbey. But I can't. I can't open my eyes. I try to pry them open, but I’m stuck, paralyzed. I don't know what’s happening, but I couldn't care, my head spinning in an intoxicating, relaxing way. I feel oddly detached from everything, but I hear people yelling, yelling my name, get up they’re saying. My eyes are glued shut I think, and I can't move at all. I feel like I should be in pain, yet I am not, an oddly numb feeling.

There is heat, lots of heat, searing heat and yet I am cold, so cold. I try opening my eyes again, managing to open them enough to see through a small gap in my lashes. I see people running, blurry, their movements choppy. There are flashing lights, people standing over me, screaming my name, but I can’t make their faces out. I see a girl’s figure standing over me, hear a familiar voice. Abbey, please. Her eyes are open! The voice says. Please, please just get up. Says another voice. I feel myself being lifted, moved, but can’t see where I’m going.

“You stay with us now,” I hear an unfamiliar voice say, and then everything goes black.

****************************************************************************************************

The next time I tried to open my eyes, I was met with no resistance. But when I opened them, all I saw was white. It was disturbing being the only color I could see, and my eyes hurt from straining to see something in the blankness. I sat up from where I was lying on the floor, looking forward and trying to discern the difference between the floor and the… space.

Standing, I looked down at myself, noticing for the first time the hospital gown that covered my torso. I grabbed at it, hoping the fabric could give me an answer as I tugged it. I raised my hands to my head, attempting to run them through my short hair before realizing there was none. None?

I was bald. My fingers brushed against my scalp, bumping against rough stitches on the skin above my left temple.

I began to panic, my breaths coming in short gasps as I began to back away. What I was backing away from I don’t know, but I found myself stumbling backwards as my fingers gripped the gown so hard it ripped.

I was about to turn and run, somewhere, anywhere other than the blank, empty space I was confronted with, but suddenly I felt my back bump against something. Something cold and metal.

“It matters because you used me, Dean!” Cas’s eyes glowed blue and for a second Sam was worried the angel was going to smite his brother. Dean backed into the wall but his angry glare never wavered, staring down the man in front of him. “I lost everything because of you, Dean, and you didn’t care!”

“Of course I fucking cared, you absolute fucking asswad!” Dean spat back. “Look it may not always show but you’re like another brother to me, dude!” Dean yanked the short sleeve of his T-shirt up over his left shoulder. “Remember this?” Dean grabbed Cas’ hand and fit the Angel’s fingers over the handprint mark that very hand had left there. “You’re a part of me, remember? I could have dealt with it. You didn’t have to fall for me-”  

“I fell because I loved you!” Cas screamed at the green-eyed man. Sam’s eyes widened and he backed out of the room, unnoticed by the pair. Cas yanked his hand back from Dean’s shoulder, staring down at it before looking back up at Dean. “I still do. I would do and have done anything for you, Dean. Even turning my back on my own family.”

“Cas, man,” Dean reached his arm out to comfort his friend but it fell into empty air as Cas disappeared. “Damn it,” Dean swore to himself as Sam walked back into the room, pretending to have just gotten out of the shower, a towel wrapped around his waist and one to hide his dry hair.

“Hey, what’s going on Dean?” Sam asked innocently. “Were you fighting with someone?”

Dean sighed  and ran a hand through his hair. “Nah, Cas was just upset about something going on in Heaven. It’s fine,” he added nonchalantly, pulling his sleeve back down over his scar.

“Dean-”

“It’s fine!” Dean snapped. “I’m fine!”

“Okay, Dean, You’re fine.” Sam smirked as his brother walked into the bathroom past him. He noticed Dean still hadn’t wiped Cas’s saliva off his face.

***

Dean stood in the shower, running his hands over his face for maybe the fourth or fifth time in the past hour. “God,” he whispered to himself. “What the fuck is going on?” Dean thought for a second as the water pounded his back. “I don’t mean that literally, God. Ignore me. It’s not like I’m freaking out that your son told me he loved me and it’s not like I’m freaking out because hearing those words made me really happy and it’s not like I wish he would get back here right now.” Dean said these words aloud and stayed silent as if he had expected an answer. He wasn’t surprised when he didn’t get one, though he was slightly disappointed.

He stepped out of the shower and walked slowly to his bed, quickly dressing and planning to watch Tv before Sam returned from the store.

"Cas, man," Dean muttered, sitting down on his bed with his head bowed and eyes closed. "Please answer me. Talk to me. I need something, here. Anything." He kept his eyes closed for a couple more seconds before opening them and looking around the motel room. No Cas.

Dean sighed. Typical, yet disappointing. He got up and dragged his ass to the couch, flopping down on it and throwing his arm over his eyes. In a last ditch effort he whispered barely comprehensible words to the air.

“I said please.”

Dean didn’t hear or feel the familiar rush of air that left as soon as it came. He was already asleep.

***

It took Dean all of five days to tell his brother what had happened. Sam already knew about it, and though Dean left out the feelings it had given him, Sam knew about those too, hearing Dean praying to Cas every night when he thought his younger brother was asleep.

“So I guess that’s why Cas hasn’t come around,” Dean shrugged, as if he didn’t stay up waiting all night for some hint of Castiel. “I guess he’s like, embarrassed or something.”

“Yeah,” Sam agreed. “Have you tried getting him over here? We could use some help.”

“He hasn’t been answering m-not that I’ve been calling for him much,” Dean defended, shaking his head at his brother. “Maybe you should call him. He might answer you.”

“Why would he answer me and not you? You’re the one he’s in love with, De-”

“Shut up, Sam,” Dean snapped. “It doesn’t matter if he’s in love with me or not, he’s not answering me!”

“”Dean I’m sure if you told him that we’re having research trouble-”

“Sam, he’s not fucking answering me okay?” Dean yelled, storming into the bathroom and slamming the door. Ten seconds later, he walked back out and rummaged through his bag, grabbing his pyjamas before jogging back into the bathroom.

“Forget something?” Sam smirked as Dean opened the door enough to flip him off.

***

Dean turned around in his bed once again as he pulled a pillow over his head. Sam was long asleep- as he should be. Dean stared at the clock on the bedstand between the two twin beds that were crammed into the smallest hotel room they’d ever stayed in. The red figures that read 3:07 AM gave Dean a headache, his slightly hungover eyes squinting at the brightness.  

He couldn’t tell if he couldn’t sleep because the booze had him running over every single word that Cas had said to him-”I loved you. I still do” or the steady sounds of Sam’s snoring.

Dean had gotten up to take something- some Zzzquil, a sleeping pill, anything to help him sleep- when he heard a small sound in the bathroom.

Immediately he was alert and he grabbed the knife he kept in his bag, creeping into the small bathroom of the motel. He turned the corner and hesitated before stabbing, thanking the father of the angel in front of him that he did.

“Cas,” he breathed, taking in the trenchcoat and the always messed up hair and lowered his blade.

“Dean,” Cas started, looking up at Dean with a slightly startled expression. “You should be asleep.”

Dean chuckled. “Tell me about it,” he huffed, moving closer to Cas. He was so close he could feel the shorter man’s breath on his jaw. “I uh, I came to get some, uh, sleeping medication,” he whispered, finding himself unable to raise his voice higher than that. He reached around Cas and opened the medicine cabinet, grabbing the almost empty bottle of sleeping pills before gently shutting the door.

“You shouldn’t take those, Dean.” Cas’s voice was low and quiet, almost breathy, and Dean’s stomach turned upside down. “They’re not good for y-”

Dean didn’t want to hear the lecture. In fact, Dean only wanted to hear one thing out of Cas’s mouth.

“Did you mean what you said?”

“And it- what?” Cas seemed confused to be cut off mid-lecture but snapped out of it quickly.

“Did you mean it? When you said you loved me.”

“Dean-” Cas got that look in his eye and Dean grabbed his arm.

“Don’t you dare flash out on me, man. Did you mean it or not?”

Cas sighed and relaxed, but refused to look Dean in the face. “Yeah, I meant it.”

Dean smiled and leaned down, pressing his lips against his friends. He placed his hand gently on Cas’s jaw when they broke away, and the black haired man took a deep breath.

“Dean?” Dean just smiled and went back in for another kiss. “Dean!”

Dean snapped his eyes open to find he was in his bed, his little brother standing over him and smirking.

“Get up sleeping beauty, it’s 10 o’clock.”

“10?!” Dean jumped out of bed and threw on a white T-shirt. “Why didn’t you wake me up? We have to meet with the Sheriff in a half hour!” Dean hopped into a pair of jeans as quickly as he could and rushed into the bathroom to brush his teeth and comb his hair.

“You seemed to be having a good dream,” Sam joked, and Dean could hear him making “kissy” noises right outside the bathroom door, making him wish the door swung outwards. Maybe a broken nose would teach him not to-

Dean wasn't paying attention and swore as his comb scraped over his ear.

***

“Damn it,” Dean snapped as he and Sam walked out of the Sheriff’s office.

“Okay, so the sheriff didn’t know anything,” Sam said, eyeing his brother as they walked back towards the impala. Dean’s hair was beyond saving, sticking almost straight up because of how many times he had ran his hand through it. His eyes seemed desperate and he seemed to be looking around wildly as if he was trying to find something. “But the medical examiner might. If not the M.E, then maybe the witness.”

“You heard the sheriff, the witness was out cold when they got there,” Dean snapped.

“Yeah but he could have seen-”

“He says he doesn’t remember anyth-”

“Would you say you remembered anything if what you had seen was what we normally deal wi-”

“Well I certainly wouldn’t be keeping quiet about i-”

“That’s because you’re always around it Dean, if you didn’t know those things existed then you would probably be too scared to-”

“I wouldn’t be too scared to speak up if I saw a motherfucking werewolf tearing apart my friend-”

“Don’t act like you’re not scared of anything, Dean, and he probably thinks he would get called insane or maybe he thinks he’s insane himself-”

“Goddamnit if Cas was here this would be so much easier!” Dean yelled as he slammed the impala door shut. They rode the rest of the way home in silence but Sam couldn’t help wondering if there was another reason Dean wished Cas were here.

Later that night, as Sam was taking a shower, he could hear his brother muttering outside the bathroom in the motel. He couldn’t make out everything but he got the jist.

“Cas… please, man, I just… talk to you, please… down here.” There was a pause and Sam assumed Dean was waiting for him. Sam shut the shower off and stepped closer to the door to hear him. “Cas, we need your help. Both the M.E. and the witness were dead ends. We don’t know what else to do, we need you to help us, do something.” Dean stopped talking again and for a second Sam almost wondered if he should call to him himself.

The next time Dean spoke, his voice had changed. “Are… you okay?” Dean’s voice was laced with worry and Sam knew the face he would be making- upturned eyebrows, wide eyes, mouth slightly agape. “God, please don’t tell me you’ve been hurt up there, don’t tell me you can’t get down here or worse you’re- you’re-” Dean sighed and Sam wrapped a towel around himself, figuring that was the end of Dean’s trying. He was about to step out of the bathroom when Dean spoke again, his voice cracking.

“Cas… Cas send me a sign, please, do something, anything to let me know you’re okay, please, I need to kno-” Sam yelped and spun around as the light in the bathroom exploded, he burst out of the room, not thinking, to avoid getting showered in glass and he ran out into the so-called ‘living room’.

“Dude, the light in the bathroom just exploded!” Sam yelled as he ran into his brother. He stepped back in surprise as he found Dean furiously wiping at his eyes, failing to hide the fact that he’d been crying.

“Dude, were you-”

“Shut up,” Dean said, his voice thick and Sam almost wanted to laugh.

“Well, anyway, I think maybe we should move motels because that light just exploded, it could be a demon or a spirit or something.”

“No, it was Cas. I asked him to send us a sign that he was okay.”

“Well dude, if he could do that do you think he could help us out with this case?”

“Trust me, I have no goddamn idea.”

“He didn’t leave any sign at all that could help us?” Sam grabbed a research book off from Dean’s bed and flipped through it to the page they had bookmarked.

Written across the margin of the page, in Cas’s distinctive messy scrawl, were the words

 Check with the witness again. I think you’ll be surprised at what you find if you decide to question him at night, instead of the daytime.  

Sam and Dean looked at each other and looked outside, to the setting sun.

“What do you think he means?” Dean asked, getting his suit out of the bag.

“Wait,” Sam said, turning the page to find more writing.

Don’t go as FBI agents, that might scare him off. Just head over there. actually, try not to make yourselves known. actually, just stealth it all. I believe he’s the werewolf. ~~Cas~~

Dean snorted. “He couldn’t have just told us that in the first place?”

***

Dean was just stepping out of the shower. He had taken one just before confronting the witness, but, well, werewolf blood all over you makes you want to take another one.

He was drying his hair off when he turned around, jumping back when he found a familiar face just inches from him.

“Cas!” Dean yelped, dropping the towel.

“Hello Dean,” Cas said, his voice low and gravelly once again. Neither Dean nor Cas seemed to notice that Dean was stark naked.

“You son of a bitch!” Dean yelled, shoving Cas against the wall with his forearm. “Fuck you, man! It’s been two weeks! You couldn’t even come back here to show us you’re okay? You had to burst a fucking light bulb? Why the fuck have you been gone so damn long? There couldn’t have been much going on up there in angel land.”

Cas could have moved, if he wanted to. Instead he let Dean press him further against the wall. “Dean, I-”

“Don’t give me any damn excuses, Cas, I want the fucking truth! Have you been avoiding us? Me?”

“Listen, Dean, I’m sorr-”

“Don’t apologize, Damnit, I just want to hear the truth! Have you been avoiding me because of what you said? Because you think-”

“Damn it Dean I can’t explain if you wont let me speak!” Cas shoved Dean off him like he was a feather. “Look, yeah, I was avoiding you. You like girls. You like boobs and long hair and-and-”

Dean leaned down and kissed him. Cas gripped the back of his head and leaned into him, just hard enough to wake him up.

“God damn,” Dean swore as he watched his brother snoring gently in the bed beside him. He looked up at the ceiling and wondered if he should call for Cas again.

"Cas, please."

Silence.

Dean sighed and turned over, spreading out across the bed and once again starting the impossible process of falling asleep.

He was close- oh so close- to falling asleep when he heard a light knocking at the motel room door. He grabbed his demon blade from his bag and looked through the opening.

"Cas!"

"Dean, let me in."

"How do I know it's-" Cas's eyes glowed blue for a fraction of a second. "Okay hang on." Dean unlocked the door and then the bolt, letting Cas slip inside quickly before locking it.

He and Dean stared at each other for what seemed like an eternity, though in reality was only a couple seconds. Suddenly Dean was on him, pulling his head roughly upwards to meet his lips, tangling his fingers in the angel's soft black hair. Cas froze but then relaxed into him, cupping Dean's jaw with gentle hands. Dean sighed when they broke away, staring down at Cas's blue eyes with their foreheads pressed together.

"I swear. If this is another dream I might just cry."

"It's not another dream."

"How can I tell?"

Cas tilted his head and then fit his hand over the scar on Dean's shoulder. A rush of emotions flooded him, the most recognizable being relief. Then trust. Then, love.

"Why have you been gone for so damn long?" Dean demanded between kisses.

"Why do you think?"

"Just because you were nervous about what I might say? Cas that's the stupidest thing-"

Cas pushed Dean off and flipped around, pushing Dean hard against the door. In this position Cas was taller, and for some reason having to look up at Cas made Dean realize just how powerful Castiel was.

“C-Cas?”

Cas leaned down and pressed his lips hard against Dean’s, and Dean felt his legs begin to buckle. He would have slid helplessly down the wall if Cas wasn’t pressing him against it so hard.

“You don’t understand,” Cas said gruffly. “I just couldn’t come back. If you were to… We’ve been through so much together if you didn’t feel the same way… I couldn’t deal with that. I just… couldn’t.”

Dean was still struggling to stand as Cas let him go and turned away.

“Don’t leave,” Dean whispered. “Please.” Dean reached out and grabbed Cas’s arm, pulling him closer. Cas nodded and Dean pulled him onto the bed, pulling the blanket over them both. Dean found his face buried in Cas’s messy mop of black hair and smiled.

“Dean?”

“Yeah?”

“What about Sam?”

          "Damn," Cas said, mirroring Dean's movement in an attempt to keep warm. He pulled out the cell phone that Dean kept in the glove box, dialing Sam quickly. "Damn," he said again, slamming the phone shut. "No signal."

          "I hate hunting in Vermont." Dean leaned back in his seat and grabbed a blanket from the back, covering himself with the small piece of fabric.

          "Shouldn't we go find a town?"

          "Didn't you hear the sheriff back there?" Dean mumbled, shuddering despite being under the blanket. "Once you get onto this road there are no towns for miles. We might be able to find a single house, but it's not worth freezing to death." Dean squinted out the window. "Besides, we can't even see five feet in front of us out there, and the snow’s just gonna keep coming down harder."

          "Where's Sam?"

          "He went to go interview some locals. Apparently there's been a problem with this house for a long time. People call it the 'haunted Highgate manor' and there's a legend behind it. Some people believe it and some people don't."

          "So we’re dealing with spirits?" Castiel asked, his body curling inside his trench coat to warm himself.

          “Probably. Apparently in the 19th century, some crazy doctor was testing some new formulas on his wife and two kids by sneaking the mixture into their food and drinks. The family ended up dying because of the poison he was feeding them and once they were dead, he killed himself.”

          “Wow,” Cas said, furrowing his brow in concern. “I can’t imagine doing that to my family. I can’t imagine doing that to you or Sam, and you guys aren’t even my family, technically.”

           “C’mon, Cas, we’re your family,” Dean rasped, finding himself staring into ice-blue eyes. “We may not be blood related, and your actual family is fighting a war up in heaven because your father is God and your siblings are angels, but we’re still your family.”

          “What do you mean?” Cas had scooched closer to Dean and Dean, subconsciously, had moved closer to Cas as well.

          “Well you’re as good as a brother to Sam, and better than a brother to me, if this handprint on my shoulder is anything to go by. Your Grace is inside me Cas. A part of you is inside me, and always will be.”

          Cas’s mouth turned up at the corners and Dean sighed. “That’s not what I meant, dude,”he defended, rolling his eyes at the ex Angel.

          “Dean, I’m really cold.” Cas lay down and tried to cover his whole body with his trench coat but to no avail. Dean saw his lips turning blue and took pity on him.

          “Here, C’mere Cas,” Dean said, crawling into the backseat and lying down, facing the front, where Cas sat confused, his arms folded in front of him as he looked at Dean skeptically.

          Dean’s arms were opened out towards Cas and the blue eyed man finally gave in and let himself fall into place next to Dean. He found there was enough room for both of them under the blanket if they squished close enough together. Dean had tried to turn away but something in the way Cas’s whole body was still shuddering made him want to hold the man close, protect him.

          “You alright?” Dean asked, not getting an answer as Cas’s face was buried in Dean’s chest, the small vibrations of his body shaking Dean as well. “Hey, man,” Dean pulled Cas’s face up so he could see him and found that almost his entire face had gone blue. “Come here,” Dean pulled Cas closer to his body and found a very cold Cas staring at him silently.

          He hesitated for a second and then placed his arms around Cas’s upper body, pulling him the small extra distance it took for their lips to connect. Castiel’s mouth immediately started moving against his own, and Dean smiled in satisfaction as the former angel sighed.

          “Feeling any warmer?” Dean asked, his voice hoarse from nerves and exhaustion.

          Cas smiled a little. “No Dean, I think I need to be closer.” With that, Cas pulled on Dean until they were squished against each other, not one part of their bodies left untouched. They stayed like that for a good two hours, both of them falling asleep after 20 minutes, until Sam found them.

Oliver had a temper, a very large and out of control one. He tended to take out his anger from his vigilante business on Felicity and Diggle, though all they ever did was help him. Lately they’d been calling him out on it, so he tried to take out his anger on his gym equipment rather than his friends.

Felicity unplugged her tablet from his computer and stuffed it in her purse, trying her best to ignore the grunts behind her. He was working extra hard tonight, as usually he’d have been done by now. Something had happened. She risked a glance towards his shirtless figure and had to calm the turmoil in her stomach that got worse every time she looked at Oliver Queen.

“O-Oliver,” Felicity started, her voice slightly higher than normal. He paused in his exercises and looked down at her, his mouth open and eyes squinted with exertion as he lowered himself slowly to the ground.

“Yeah,” he grunted, wiping his hands of sweat on his jeans and then ran them through his hair.

“What happened out there? As soon as you got back you-” Felicity stopped talking as Queen glared at her, his breathing already returning to a normal pace.

“What happened doesn’t matter. All you need to know is what I told you. Malcolm has a new plan for the undertaking and I need you to track-”

“Ollie,” Felicity ignored the flipping in her stomach along with the feeling in the back of her mind that she shouldn’t interrupt the vigilante. “You once told me that if I needed someone to talk to about what happens during all of…” She waved her arms around the basement of Verdant. “This. That you would listen and be here for me. The same goes for you,” Felicity’s voice wavered slightly as he stared at her with that signature not-quite-a-smirk but not-quite-a-frown look. Finally he sat down, wiping his forehead with his arm.

“Today I had to break into Malcolm’s new hideout. He moved there after… people found out about his participation in the undertaking. He- he caught me.”

“You always let him do that.” Felicity said without thinking. Oliver glared at her from where he sat, resting his head on his folded hands.

“Well, I usually get information. This time though…”

_____________________________________________________________________

Malcolm stood over the tied vigilante in the chair. Oliver fought against the bonds, knowing he could get out of them any time he wanted to. He needed to get more information, and these little chats with Merlyn did more help than harm. His punches still hurt though, and Ollie felt his face burn as Merlyn landed another left hook on his cheek.  

“I don’t know why you keep coming back,” Malcolm said, punching Oliver in the nose. He felt blood begin to drop from his nose as he glared back up at Merlyn. “Every time you come back I beat you. I don’t know how you always end up escaping me.” Another punch, this time to the jaw. “But you keep coming back. You’re as stubborn and persistent as your father,”

Ollie spat blood out at Malcolm, straining against the bonds. His hands twisted and worked on getting free from the rope. “Don’t you say a word about my father,” Oliver rasped, feeling his wrists work free of the rope. “You’d think you would be smarter, understand that I get out of bonds,” He held up his hands, freed from the restraints, punching Malcolm in the jaw.

“You know, Robert was almost as smart-ass as you,” Malcolm said, dodging from Oliver’s next punch and kicking him in the stomach. “But of course, he lacked your… nerve, never really fully committed to anything.”

“Stop talking about my father,” Ollie yelled, kicking Malcolm back into the wall of his own lair. “My father was a good man.”  

“You know nothing about your father,” Malcolm said as Ollie stood over him, placing a foot on Malcolm’s chest. Ollie had tried to kill him many times before, but he just couldn’t. Not because he wasn’t physically able, but because it was Tommy’s father, and he just can’t. “Are you going to kill me or are you going to wimp out like the other times?”

Ollie lowered his bow, walking away from Merlyn, leaving him injured in the wall.

“You’re a coward, just like Robert! Your dad was always a coward, a liar, and a cheat. He turned his back on me, on his best friend, just like you did. You turned your back on Tommy and got him killed.

“You destroy everything you get close to, just like your father did.”

_____________________________________________________________________

Felicity looked at Oliver in pity, stepping over and sitting down next to him. He looked down at her, and she thought she saw the glimmer of a tear in his eye.

“No one, especially not..” Oliver grimaced before continuing. “Merlyn, should have the right to talk about my father. Not like that.”

Felicity warily put her hand on his shoulder, ignoring the feeling of electricity tingling up her arm. “Look, I’m…I’m not the best person with this kind of stuff. I’m really sorry Ollie, but I think you need to realize that your dad wasn’t who we all thought he was-”

“I know he wasn’t the man he said he was!” Oliver jerked away from her, standing up to put away his bow and hood. “I learned that as the Queen’s gambit went down. That doesn’t give other people the right to… to…” Oliver trailed off mid-sentence and pursed his lips, trying to find the right words.

Felicity gently grabbed his arm, turning him toward her. “To what?”

“I don’t know. But..” Ollie looked at Felicity desperately, like he was trying to get her to understand. He sat down, rapping his knuckles on the table.  “My father, he was a good man. He didn’t want to take part in the undertaking. He sent me back here with a purpose. I know my father did bad things, but he was a good person.”

Felicity smiled gently. “It’ll be okay, Ollie,” Felicity said, sitting back down next to Oliver. “It’s alright. People made bad decisions, but-”

“I’m not a child, Felicity,” He said, pulling away from her once again. “Stop talking to me like I am one. I realize my father did bad things and I’ve faced up to it. It’s been said and done,”

“I don’t think you’re a child Ollie-” She stopped abruptly at his glare. “Oliver, I’m just trying to help,”

“I don’t need help. I need Merlyn behind bars.”

“Damn it Oliver! I was trying to make you feel better! I was trying to make it so you didn’t have to push every one away like you always complain about having to do! I am with you in this Oliver. I am a part of this as much as you and Diggle and you don’t have to keep me out of your-”

Felicity was cut off suddenly and for a second she was very confused as to why she couldn’t move her lips. Her brain finally recognized Ollie’s lips pressed against hers, his hand cupping the side of her jaw. She relaxed into him as his other hand drifted down to her waist, her hands gripping his shirtless torso. He pulled away and she whined a bit at the loss of the feeling of his lips on hers. She opened her eyes to see Oliver looking down at her with an amused expression.

“W-what?” She tried to say, though it came out as a broken whisper. He didn’t answer, only pulled her back into another kiss. This time when they parted she bit her lip, her magenta lipstick rubbing off slightly. “I… I didn’t.. how long have you…”

“A while.”

“Then why didn’t you…” Felicity seemed to be breathless with happiness along with confusion, Ollie’s hands still resting on her waist.

“I just did,” Ollie chuckled.

“But-”

“Shh,” Oliver quieted her with another kiss, which was deeper and messier than the last, his hands beginning to snake under her shirt. Her breath hitched as his hands found her bra clasp.

“Wait,” Felicity said, breaking the kiss and placing a hand on Oliver’s bare chest.

“I’m sorry, am I going too fast for you?” He said, pulling his hands out from under her shirt.

“No, well, not really,” Felicity said, standing on her toes to press her lips to the spot underneath his ear, feeling a sense of satisfaction when he shuddered. “But do you have… you know, a condom?”

“Hmm,” he mused, picking her up by her thighs, wrapping her legs around his waist.

“Another thing,” Felicity said, arching into his lips as Oliver kissed her neck. “We are in a basement. Of a club. In the glades. I have a feeling you don’t exactly have a bed around here,”  

“I’m sure we can find something,” He hummed, leaning up to kiss her again.

She broke away, looking down at Oliver with an are-you-serious expression. “Or…. we could just go back to my place.”

“That’s why you’re the brains around here,” he said, gripping her waist tighter as he climbed the stairs into Verdant. “Hold on to me tightly,”

“See, this is the kind of circumstance in which I had imagined you saying that to me,” Felicity said and wrapped her arms snugly around his neck. “I mean… not that I really imagined that much but..” Oliver once again stopped her from talking by kissing her. “Yeah, you should definitely do that more often,” She said when he broke away.

“Do what? Kiss you, or stop you from talking?”

“Both.”

_____________________________________________________________________

The car ride to Felicity’s house was the worst. They sat in silence, Felicity’s foot on the gas pressing down harder every minute in her rush to get home.

As soon as the got through the front door Oliver turned around, pressing her gently against the door as his hands went in her hair. She gasped as his lips found their way to her neck, creating dark marks Felicity would struggle to cover up in the morning. At this point she didn’t care.

“Ollie,” Felicity moaned quietly. Her hands moved to the front of his shirt, nimbly undoing the buttons as he picked her up once again and carried her down the hall. She pulled his face up to hers and kissed him, pulling his button-down off his shoulders, pulling his hands away from her for long enough to take it off. He broke the kiss for a moment, mumbling something Felicity couldn’t hear. “Say that again? I think you had too much of my tongue in your mouth.”

Oliver laughed. “I said, which room?” He tightened his grip on her thighs, sending shivers up her spine. She motioned to the door behind her to the right, turning the handle behind her back when he got her close enough. She felt his erection as he set her down on the bed, pulling out the box of condoms they had bought on the way home from his hoodie pocket and throwing it on the bed next to her. He shook the sleeves off the end of his arms as she pulled her own shirt off, throwing it where Oliver’s had landed, creating a pile. She carefully look off her glasses and set them on the table next to her bed.

He smiled at her and undid her bra, sliding the straps off her arms. She gulped and bit her lip, suddenly very self conscious upon realizing this would be the first time Oliver would see her with no shirt on- well actually, with no clothes on at all.

Oliver seemed to notice her nervousness and smiled gently at her. “You’re beautiful,” he whispered, reaching behind her and carefully pulling her hair out of it’s hastily done bun. He sat down next to her on the bed and kissed her softly, running his tongue along her bottom lip. She bit his lip playfully before letting his tongue slip inside her mouth. He put his hands on her waist and gently pushed her onto her back, not breaking the kiss.

He sat up, straddling her waist, his hands reaching down to unbutton and unzip his jeans. He stopped when Felicity reached her hands up, her face rapt. She traced her fingers gently along the scar on his lower stomach.

He flinched backwards, giggling softly. “Hey, uh, that tickles,” he said, swatting her hand away gently. She smiled and moved her hands to the next one on his ribcage. Her fingertips followed every groove and line of raised skin and he shut his eyes, sighing as her hands moved from scar to scar. She finished with the last one and smiled as Oliver’s face was slack with pleasure.

She sat up so she could reach farther, pushing him off from her lap and cupping his jaw, running her thumb across the scratch he had gotten on his cheek from his most recent fight with Merlyn. He opened his eyes and was a bit surprised to see Felicity’s face so close to his own. An idea popped into her head and she kissed him, turning the tables on him by pushing him down onto the bed.

“What’re you,” Oliver cut off with a moan as Felicity pulled his jeans down, her hand brushing his dick on the way. Her lips trailed down his neck and she smiled into his skin as Oliver’s hand flew to her hair, his hips lifting off the bed ever so slightly.

She found his first scar with her lips, mouthing over it as her tongue followed the path her fingers had made, down his body hitting each scar.

“Fe-Felicity,” Ollie panted, his hands tightening in her hair. She snapped at the waistband of his boxers and he pulled her head up so it was level with his. “Hey, I’m almost naked and you’ve still got jeans on. Take ‘em off,” His voice had gotten gruffer and deeper with lust.

She smiled and stood, pulling her jeans off and then, nervously biting her lip, she pulled her panties down too. “I’ve got a feeling you’re not used to not being in control of everything, especially when it comes to sex,” she said, crawling back on top of him.

“Not exactly,” Oliver smiled with half of his mouth, his eyes crinkling with humor and admiration, as well as a bit of embarrassment. “I can’t say I’m not enjoying it.” He held onto her hips and arched his hips upwards, both moaning at the contact. He gently turned her over so he was over her, grabbing a package from the box beside him. “But now it’s my turn.”

_____________________________________________________________________  

Felicity sighed heavily, her head resting gently on Oliver Queen’s chest, his hand absentmindedly running through her hair.

“You alright?” he murmured quietly, his hand stilling it’s ministrations. She inhaled slowly and pressed herself closer to him, pulling her body up so her face was level with his. She placed a hand on his shoulder, resting her chin on her knuckles. He turned his head to look at her, faces only inches apart.

“Should we… shouldn’t we talk about this?” Felicity asked, nervously watching his face as she spoke.

“What is there to talk about?” He replied, his hand sliding from her hair down to the small of her back. She closed her eyes briefly at the contact, his warm hands on her cold skin.

“Well, um… us, I guess?” She said, pressing even closer to him, his body radiating heat under the covers. He turned his body to her, wrapping both arms around her back and pulling her into the heat. She sighed happily and closed her eyes, resting her head into the crook of his neck.

“Okay, how about I start then,” he said, his chin brushing against the top of her head. “I had feelings for you the first time I came to you in the IT department. I just didn’t know it yet. You were the person I went to when I was dying, bleeding in the back of your car. Then, when you joined me, I couldn’t quite understand the elated feeling I had just from you agreeing to help me in finding Walter. I didn’t understand, because I thought I was still in love with Laurel.

“And then you stayed, even after we found Walter, and I knew I loved you.” Felicity’s pulse sped up with each word he said, and she carefully touched the long healed wound on his shoulder. He closed his eyes and leaned slightly into her touch. He opened his eyes back up, reaching up to brush a strand of hair away from her face. “I love you, Felicity Smoak.”

“I…I had just meant talk about whether we are exclusive or not…” She trailed off. “But I mean, you were Oliver Queen. Every girl in this city had a crush on you, including me, but you were my boss, you know?” She looked up at him, biting her lip which was for once not a crazy shade of pink. “When you disappeared, I…I thought I had gotten over it. Just a silly crush on the city’s most rich and handsome man, right?” Felicity sighed, pressing her lips briefly to his shoulder. “And then you came back and everything changed.

“You were different. You didn’t party as much, you weren’t as irresponsible. You held yourself in a more distinguished fashion and I didn’t realize I could have gotten any more attracted to you.” Ollie smiled down at her, breathing in so deeply her head rose up and then bobbed back down when he let it out. “And then all of this business with the vigilante started, and you kept coming to me with these weird requests. I never put two and two together I guess, but when you showed up bleeding in the back of my car that night… everything made so much sense, and my feelings for you grew even stronger, though the confusion got worse. And then…well, here we are now, and I don’t think I’ve ever felt happier.”