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Is This My Dream or My Reality?

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Oliver could feel the warmth and pressure of her soft body pressed atop his body, as he awoke to the golden yellow of the rising sun streaming through the window.


He loved waking up like this, with Felicity still asleep draped on top of him, her arms hugging his chest, their legs intertwined with one another. He could feel ever breath she took, every dip of her chest, and every beat of her heart. It brought him a sense of peace and comfort that only came when he was this close to her. Knowing that she was alive and safe and right beside him. Knowing that nothing could hurt her when she was in his arms, protected from all the dangers and unknowns that existed in the world.


He could feel her stirring against his chest, knowing that she would be awake in minutes. He let his fingers trail the length of her spine, her body naked from last night’s love making.


“That’s nice,” he heard her sleepily whisper, feeling her lips draw into a smile against his chest.


“Is it?” he whispered conspiratorially, knowing how much his touch against her bare skin both elicited delight and lust from her. He could feel her smile growing wider against his chest, causing his own to grow even wider.


“You know it is,” she replied, rising from his chest to look him directly in his eyes.


He felt his body stir as he noted the wicked gleam that had entered her eyes and her teeth drawing against her bottom lip. His lips were on her in seconds, his tongue running along the same path that her teeth had moments ago. The kiss only escalated as he flipped her onto her back, trailing wet kisses down her neck towards her chest.


He could hear her moans, moans that he had committed to memory, as his lips enclosed her breasts. His hands covered the expanse of her back as she arched into him. Her hands squeezing his shoulder blades as she became more aroused.


“Baby,” she pled, as his mouth continued to plunder a path against her chest and back up to her neck, before their lips connected once again. He knew what she was asking, what she was begging for just from the tone of her voice. She wanted him to take her, to make love to her like it was the only thing he was put on Earth to do.


His hands pushed her blonde hair out of her eyes as he kissed her once again, drawing her supple thighs against his back. All he could see was love and lust in her beautiful blue eyes, eyes that he would gladly awake to every morning for the rest of his life if she so allowed it.


He slowly eased into her, loving the way she clenched against him, as he continued to stare into her eyes. They rocked slowly against one another, drawing more moans from each other, oblivious to the rising golden yellow sun outside their window.


These were the moments he was thankful that he had put aside his fears, the fear of losing her, the fear of not being able to be both Oliver Queen and the Arrow, and gone after her. He couldn’t imagine his life without her in it, without her beside him as his partner in every aspect of his life. These were the moments he cherished. These were the moments that he fought for. These were the moments he lived for.


He could feel she was close. Her moans got louder, her thighs clenched against him tighter, and her fingers dug into his body harder.


“Come on, baby! Come for me,” he moaned against her skin, as he ground his hips harder into hers.


He could feel the moment she reached her climax, the way every inch of her body would tense, the way her back arched into the air, the way his name would echo from her lips, and the way that her center pulsed around his. He wasn’t far behind as his hips pounded into hers in an erratic pace.


Her named was ripped from his lips moments later as he reached his own climax. He carefully moved his weight from atop of hers, as he collapsed against the bed still panting from their lovemaking. He felt the shift in the bed as she moved to drape her body against his, their legs entangling in each other’s once more. She placed soft kisses against his chest before laying her head against the spot where his heart lay.


“That’s definitely the best way to wake up in the morning,” she whispered, running her finger along the lines of his Bratva tattoo.


“I most whole-heartedly agree with that notion, Ms. Smoak,” Oliver replied, kissing the top of her head, as his arms encircled her body.


They stay in bed like that, intertwined with each other, as he listened to her talk about the plans for the newest designs that Applied Science had been working on. He loves hearing her talk about their business. He knew how lucky he was to have her as his Co-CEO of Queen Industries. He knew how lucky it was to have her in his arms, like this, talking about life outside of the Arrow business. He couldn’t dream of a better way to spend his Sunday morning, listening to her talk, as he watched the golden yellow sun shine in the clear blue sky.  







It was the pitter-patter of little feet against wooden floors and giggling of his two girls that woke him from his slumber and his dream of spending a peaceful day in bed with Felicity. He couldn’t help the smile that grew upon his face as he heard Evelyn and Lily debate over which was the best way to wake Felicity and him up from just outside their bedroom door.


“They are definitely our daughters,” whispered Felicity, turning to face him, her eyes still closed but a smile upon her lips.


“That they definitely are,” Oliver whispered back, moving his body so he could wrap his arms around her, something that was becoming harder and harder as her belly grew. He couldn’t help but marvel at the feel of her swollen belly against his hand as he traced circles around it. Their little boy seemed to be the only one in the house that was still asleep; his little feet were still for the moment inside his mother’s tummy. They could tell from early on in Felicity’s pregnancy that this little one was different from his older sisters. He was constantly on the move. Felicity felt the first twinges of their son as early as the thirteenth week of her pregnancy. He could already tell that this little one was going to be a handful. But he couldn’t wait to meet him.


He could scarcely believe that this was this life. He never felt happier, more at peace and comfort than he did now. He loved his wife. He loved his two little beautiful genius little girls. He loved his baby boy that only had few months left before he would enter the world. He couldn’t be happier.


“Come on in, girls,” he bellowed, stopping the debate between his girls before it got even more heated like he knew it could.


“Daddy,” screamed his girls as they barrelled through the door, jumping onto the bed.


He was surrounded in varying shades of pink, as his girls climbed on top of him. Pink was his girls’ favourite colour. They had pink everything, pink clothes, pink shoes, pink bags, and anything and everything else in pink they could get their hands on. Felicity and he had decided not to push a specific colour on their girls, allowing them a choice of all the varying shades that the world had to offer.


The memory of Evelyn discovering the colour pink drifted into his mind, as he girls continued to talk about what they had planned for him today. Evelyn was only four months old when she was gifted a bright fuchsia blanket from Thea. He could remember how her eyes lit up at when the blanket entered her chubby baby hands. That blanket scarcely left her sight for almost two years. He still tucked it in with her every night when he read her bedtime stories.


Lily’s discovery of the colour pink, he thinks, was largely due to the influence of Evelyn. He could clearly remember his conversation with a two-year-old Lily, as she demanded her room be painted pink just like her older sister. He couldn’t believe his ears as he listened to her reasons as to why her room should be painted. Her logic and vocabulary outpaced that of most two-year-olds.


His daughters were definitely geniuses, inheriting their mother’s intellect, and he couldn’t be more thankful.


“Daddy,” he heard both girls call out at the same time, drawing him from his moment recollection, as he stared into the brilliant blue eyes of his two little girls. Their eyes an exact match to the woman that laid next to him, who continued to feign sleep.


“Yes, girls,” he answered.


“We want pancakes for breakfast!” sounded Evelyn.


“Chocolate chip pancakes,” Lily piped excitedly.


“With maple syrup,” Evelyn sounded, equally excited.


“Alright, alright,” Oliver spoke, as his hands reached out, tickling both his girls at the same time, eliciting high-pitched giggles from both of them. “I will make you girls chocolate chip pancakes with maple syrup for breakfast. As soon as the both of you get off of me.”


“Nope,” Evelyn said, still giggling. “You have to carry us, the both of us, Daddy. At the same time!”


“Yeah,” Lily agreed quickly. “At the same time, daddy!”


“You want me to carry both of you at the same time,” he exclaimed. “How am I supposed to carry both of you?” he teased. “I’m not strong enough!”


“Of course you’re strong enough, Daddy,” Evelyn replied assuredly.


“You’re the strongest daddy in the world, Daddy,” Lily quickly supplied. “You can carry the both of us no problem.”


“Yeah, Daddy. We’ve seen you do push-ups to impress Mommy. You’re definitely strong enough,” said Evelyn.


He could hear Felicity quietly chuckle, her eyes still closed.


“See what you’ve done,” he whispered playfully to Felicity, before placing a kiss atop her head.


“Alright, girls. Let’s go make some pancakes. But first we got to wake Mommy up,” he spoke conspiratorially to both of his girls, knowing fully what he was about to set in motion.


The girls quickly moved off of him and into the unoccupied space between Felicity and him, before assaulting their mother with hugs and kisses.


“Wake up, Mommy,” he heard both of their girls’ giggly whisper to Felicity.


“Come on, Mommy! Wake up! Daddy’s going to make us all pancakes,” Lily screeched impatiently.


“Come on, Lily. I know how to wake Mommy up,” spoke Evelyn. “We just have to tickle her!”


He couldn’t believe the sights and sounds he was witnessing as both of his little girls surrounded their mother in hugs, kisses and tickles, before Felicity pretended to awake. Evelyn and Lily were now on the receiving end of their mother’s hugs, kisses and tickles.


He watched as his wife whispered into the ears of their two girls, mischief gleaming from all of their bright blue eyes. He felt the shift in the bed as his girls latched onto him, kissing, hugging and attempting to tickle him, with Felicity not far behind trying to kiss him too.


This was his happy story, right here in his bed, surrounded by his two little girls, his beautiful wife and unborn little boy, surrounded in love. Love so pure and freely given by the three most important people in his life that he couldn’t believe that this was really his life.


It took another thirty minutes before all four of them were out of bed and in the kitchen cooking breakfast. They all sat happily at the dining room table, all covered in varying amounts of flour as they ate their breakfast, laughter, smiles and pink surrounding them.







It’s the pounding of Thea’s fist against his bedroom door that awakens him from his sleep. Sleep that was once again visited by the most beautiful of dreams that he desperately wished was his real life. But it wasn’t. It could never be. It would never be.


Today was Felicity’s wedding day. Felicity’s wedding to a man that was not him. Today was the day of Felicity’s wedding to Ray Palmer.


He warily shifted out of his bed as the muted blue walls of his room met his gaze and surrounded him. He was exhausted. His heart ached. Aching more than it had the moment he found Felicity kissing Palmer that night that Cupid had been caught. Aching more than the moment in that dark alleyway that Felicity had told him that she didn’t want to be a woman he loved. Aching more than the moment he had learnt that Felicity was in a romantic relationship with Palmer. Aching more than the day he had found out Felicity had became engaged to Palmer.


All he wanted to do was to get back into bed and dream, dream of the life where Felicity was his wife and not Palmer’s, dream of a life where he had gotten his happy story surrounded by Felicity and their children. But he knew he couldn’t. Thea wouldn’t allow it. She wouldn’t allow him to skip the wedding, no matter how much he didn’t want to go.


He tried to smile as he looked in the mirror, while he tied his blue tie around his neck. The smile looked disingenuous. He knew it. He knew that Thea would know it. He knew that Diggle and Lyla would know it. He knew that Roy and Laurel would know it. He knew Felicity would know it. So there he stood, in front of the mirror, trying to make his smile look as happy he could make it, the complete opposite of what he felt like on the inside.


He could see a few of the guests that were streaming into the wedding’s venue as he pulled the car up to the valet. He took a in a deep breath in before exiting the car, trying to steel himself for the day that was a head of him. He was surrounded by varying shades of blue flowers and an energy of excitement and joy as he wandered into the garden that the wedding would take place in. He recognized none of the people that had already arrived. Barry and John were probably with Ray getting ready as both of them were groomsmen. Caitlin’s husband Ronnie had yet to arrive, as did Dr. Wells, Joe West and Roy. Thea had arrived earlier to get ready with the rest of the wedding party. Felicity had chosen Lyla as her maid of honour, with Thea, Caitlin, Iris and Laurel as her other bridesmaids.


Every single one of them was excited for today and for Felicity. But the competition between who was excited was a three-way race between Donna Smoak, Sarah Diggle, and Quentin Lance. Sarah had squealed in joy when Felicity had asked her to be her flower girl. Donna had been ecstatic when Felicity had told her that she was engaged. And Lance, well Lance had broken down in tears when Felicity had asked him to walk her down the aisle.


His relationship with Felicity had never returned to what it once was that summer after they had taken down Slade. It had only become more and more tense as time went on. He knew Felicity had tried, tried to keep things civil and friendly between the two of them. And he tried to do the same for her. He tried to be happy for her. Her happiness was all he ever wanted, but his heart still ached every time he saw her with Palmer. It ached every time he thought about his dream of a life with her, a life that he would never have.


The sight that met his eyes as he looked up at the upper windows of the mansion stole his breath away. He could see her, part of her at least, alone, looking out the window in a dazzling white and cream gown. He didn’t know what he was doing or where he was going before he realized that he had entered the mansion and up its main stairs. He didn’t bother to knock as he entered the room that was labelled as the bride’s dressing room.


“Thea,” he heard Felicity call out, her back still turned to him, “did you find it? Did you find something blue? Please tell me you found something blue. I cannot believe that I forgot to find something blue!”


“Not Thea,” he replied.


He could see the shock on her face as she turned around to meet his gaze.


“Oliver? I’m sorry. I thought you were Thea,” she spoke quietly, smoothing out the non-existent wrinkles in her gown.


“Not Thea,” he quietly spoke. “You look beautiful by the way. More than beautiful actually. You look stunning. You - you look breathtaking, Felicity.”


“Thank you,” Felicity replied, a quiet chuckle escaped her lips before she next spoke. “I thought that you were actually going to show up late. You’ve always had the tendency to show up late, Oliver,” she sighed.


He couldn’t help but huff at Felicity’s words. They could not be more ironic to him as they stood across from each other. Her dressed in a wedding gown and him a suit. Her about to walk down the aisle to marry a man that was not him.


The only thing that he could think about, all he could say was, “sorry.”


“What do you have to be sorry about, Oliver,” she asked. “You’re early.”


“I’m sorry for being too late.”


“Oliver-,” she spoke before he interrupted her.


“I’m sorry for not realizing sooner, for not realizing what I was doing. What I was doing to us,” he said, closing the space between them. “I’m sorry for not realizing that I could live a life as the Arrow and Oliver Queen sooner. I’m sorry for not choosing you, for not putting you above everything else sooner. I’m sorry for not realizing that I was in love with you, desperately in love with you sooner,” he uttered, tears burning the back of his eyes, as he looked at her.


“I’m sorry for dangling so many maybes. I’m sorry for all the pain I put you through. I’m sorry for not putting your happiness first. I’m so sorry, Felicity,” he implored, pain lacing his voice, tears now slipping down his face as he stood inches from her.




“I’m sorry,” he repeated, as his hands enclosed the sides of her face, replicating the same place they had been when they shared their first, their only kiss, in that hospital hallway. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, as he gently pressed his lips to hers.


He felt her body tense up the moment he did. He felt her hands clutch his wrists as she stepped back from him, a look of pure devastation and disbelief gracing her face.


Her head began to sway back and forth as she continued to look at him.


“What are you doing, Oliver,” she asked, her voice full of incredibility.


“I – I – I don’t know what I’m doing,” Oliver answered, truly not knowing what he had just done.


“Why are you doing this?”


“I don’t know.”


“I asked you to stop dangling maybes,” she spat, anger beginning to colour her voice. “I told you that I didn’t want to be a woman you loved! I waited for you! Even when I told you I wouldn’t! I gave you every chance to choose me! To choose us! But you never did,” she said, as her head shook, tears spilling from her eyes. “You never chose me! You never chose us! So why? WHY? Why are you doing this now, Oliver? Why are you doing this on the day of my wedding?”


“I don’t know,” Oliver howled. “I don’t know,” he uttered quietly. “All that I know is that my heart aches for you. I ache to be with you. Every. Single. Day. Every moment of every hour. All I can do is dream about you! Dream of a life that we could have! A life where I am married to you. A life where I wake up in the morning surrounded by you and our children.” More tears spilled from his eyes, as he looked at her, still utterly and devastatingly beautiful even though her face was twisted in hurt.


“That’s never going to happen, Oliver. You lost that chance, a chance at that life every time you didn’t choose me,” Felicity’s voice breaking, as she continued to stare at Oliver. “And nothing you say, nothing that you do will change that. You’re too late, Oliver.”


“It’s never too late, Felicity. Please. Please. I love you. I love you. I will always love. I will do whatever it takes to make you happy. I promise to put you first. Please! Please, Felicity! I know you love me. Despite of everything, everything that has happened between us, I know you love me.”




“Felicity, please!”


“No,” Felicity said, her voice hardening, as she turned away from, facing the window once again. “In twenty minutes, I am going to walk out of this room, out that door and into that garden. I’m going to marry a man who loves me, a man who has always put me first, a man who chose me despite the odds. I’m going to marry the father of my child.”


His face crumpled as he heard her words. He thought he had felt pain before. He had been attacked, tortured, speared through the chest and nearly died, but nothing, nothing felt like the pain that struck his body as those words spilled from her mouth.  


“What,” Oliver said, moments later, shock colouring his voice.


“Felicity,” sounded Thea, as she tramped through the door, unbeknownst to the situation she was walking in on. “The only thing that I could find in this whole place that was blue is a blue pen. Can you believe it? Only a freaking blue pen…Ollie,” Thea asked, finally noticing him. “What are you doing here?” Thea’s brows scrunching together.


“Nothing,” Felicity answered for him, her back still turned to him. “Oliver’s leaving. Isn’t that right, Oliver,” her voice a command more than a question.


“Yes,” he replied, one of his many masks falling into place as he looked at his sister still standing in the doorway with a blue pen in her hand. His thumb and forefinger rubbed against each other as he moved towards the door, Thea moving out of his way. She gave him a reassuring squeeze against his bicep and look before he exited out of the door.


He walked down the stairs and out the door towards the exit. He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t stay here. He thought he could. He thought he could watch the woman he loves, the only woman that he has ever loved marry another man. But he couldn’t. He could see the blue flowers in the hanging pots swing in the wind in his rear view mirror as he drove as fast as he could from the place where every one of his dreams came crashing and burning to the ground.







It’s her gentle hand stroking his shoulder blade that wakes him. He turns around and is met with the most breathtaking and beautiful smile he has ever seen. The sun shines behind her creating a halo like effect around her beautiful head. She dressed in the most stunning, figure hugging forest green dress that he has ever seen. He cannot help but smile at the vision that is in front of him.




“Morning, sleepyhead,” she replies.


“You’re here,” he says, his voice full of disbelief.


“Of course I’m here. Where else would I be?”


“You’re here. You’re really here,” he says surging up and desperately clutching her body to his.


“Of course I’m here,” she giggles, stroking the sides of his arm, before drawing back from him, placing the gentlest of kisses upon his lips.


It is the kiss that truly awakens him. Waking up to find her beside him in their bed was a dream. Felicity wasn’t here. She would never be here again. She was gone. She was dead. And he couldn’t stop the tears that spilled from his eyes and ran down his face, as his breathing became haggard, clutching the sheets on her side of the bed, remembering what today was. Remembering that today, today was the day of Felicity’s funeral.


Anger and grief filled his body as he remembered how he lost her. She had worn that exact green dress to dinner that night. It had been the night of their three-year anniversary. He had spent weeks planning that night, making sure that everything was perfect for her. That night was supposed to be about her, about how much he cherished her, how grateful he was for her, how much he cared for and valued her, and how much he loved her. He had taken every precaution, enlisted every vigilante to ensure that, that night went off without a hitch. They were not to be disturbed unless the apocalypse was occurring.  


He remembered seeing her step out of their bedroom in that green dress. His breath stopped in his lungs, his jaw hit the ground, and his body became painfully aroused, all at one. She was the most beautiful, most breathtaking person he had ever seen and ever had the chance of getting to know. She was the love of his life and he couldn’t be more thankful that she had agreed to marry him all those years ago. Felicity was it for him. She was his everything. She had been from the moment he met her, it had just taken him a while to realize it.


He could remember every moment, every scent, and every sound of the final minutes of Felicity’s life every time he closed his eyes. He remembered hearing the shattering of glass as bullets struck it, tearing through glass, metal, and flesh, and all the screams erupting all around them. The bloom of dark red staining the center of her green dress would be forever ingrained in his mind. He tried to stop the bleeding, stripping his suit jacket and pressing it against her wound, but nothing worked. Her blood continued to escape from her body, covering his hands, as she whispered words of love to him, as the light seeped from her eyes. He didn’t know how long he sat there, with her lifeless body, clutched to his. He didn’t care. She was gone, and so was he.


He could barely feel the scorch of the hot water pounding against his body as he stood in the shower. He could barely keep himself upright as he closed his eyes, trying to remember all the good memories of her that he had locked away in his mind. He could feel her hands trail up his back, caressing each scar as she kissed her way across he shoulder blades. For a few blissful moments he thinks that she is there with him, lovingly touching him like only she can. He turns towards her, hoping to catch just a glimpse of her but sees nothing but thin air. The devastation of losing her surrounds him once again. He collapses against the shower wall, sliding until he’s sitting against the marble floor, as his hands pull at the ends of his hair.  


Every inch of his body hurts. His heart and soul ache. He cannot control the tremble that vibrates through his hands as he buttons up the front of his shirt. His breath raggedly escapes from his body. He picks up the dark green, almost black tie, which Thea had left on their bed for him with the suit that he had don for the funeral. It was one of Felicity’s favourite ties. He blinks away the tears stream down his face once more as he attempts to knot the tie.


“Let’s get going. We’re going to be late,” he hears her call out to him, as she moves towards him.


He cannot believe his eyes as she stands in front of him, dressed in the same forest green dress, her hair down and glasses adorning her stunning face.


“You look beautiful.”


“It’s a big day,” she replies, dazzling him with her smile.


“I don’t want to go,” he utters, as he stares at his wife, tears blurring his vision of her. “I want to stay here, with you, forever,” his voice breaking.


“Everyone is waiting, Oliver. Everyone is waiting for you,” she voices calmly.


“You don’t understand, Felicity. I need you here. I need you more than you can understand,” he says, desperation and grief colouring his voice. “I can’t do this without you here.”


“Here, let me help.” Her hands move towards the ends of his tie, as she begins to knot it like she had done dozens of times before. He closes his eyes as feels her breath against his ear, whispering the exact words that she said as she laid dying before him in the restaurant. “It’s okay. It’s okay, Oliver. I’m okay. I love you. I love you. I love you, Oliver. Always.”


Sobs tear through him as he opens his eyes and sees that she is not there with him.


He wants to crawl back into bed, back into the darkness, so he can see, feel her, love her in his dreams once again.







He stirred from his slumbering state to her calling out his name.


“Oliver. Oliver! Oliver!” he hears.


Confusion colours his mind. Fragments of dreams, of nightmares, assault his mind. He remembers waking to the comfort of a sleeping Felicity in his arms. He remembers the happiness of awaking to his two little girls and a pregnant Felicity in their bed. He remembers the heartbreak of seeing her in a wedding dress that was not meant for him. He remembers the utter pain of awaking to the reality of having to live a life without her in it.


He cannot tell what is real and what is not.


He cannot believe the voice of her, calling out to him, telling him to wake up.


He knows what he wants and he knows what he doesn’t. He wants her. He wants everything with her. Only her. He wants to be able to lie down beside her every night before he falls asleep. He wants to wake up to her in his arms every morning. He wants to be the only one that sees her walks down the aisle towards him in a white dress. He wants to be able to hold their children in his arms and marvel at their genius. He never wants to have to say a final goodbye to her.


“Oliver, wake up. Please wake up,” he hears. “Please, Oliver. Please wake up. You can’t leave. You can’t leave me now. I can’t lose you. Not when I just got you back. Please, Oliver!”


“Felicity,” he groggily whispers, opening his eyes and seeing her dressed in her red coat.


“Oliver,” she implores.


“What’s – what’s going on?”


“You’re awake! Oh thank god,” relief seeping through her voice. “We’re in Nanda Parbat. We think Ra’s al Ghul poisoned you with something. We don’t know what. We don’t know if it’s still in your system.”


“You can’t be here,” he whispers, trying to overcome the murkiness that drowns his mind. “You can’t be here. Ra’s…Ra’s will kill you.”


“It’s alright, Oliver. It’s okay. Nyssa says that Ra’s won’t touch me. She says he won’t kill me if I get you out of here, right now. We have to get moving, Oliver. I was only given a few hours to get you out of here.”


His mind is still murky, as she helps him stand on his two feet. He can see her. Feel her. Smell her. She’s dressed in red. Just the colour of the pen caught between her lips the first time he laid eyes on her. Just like the dress that hugged every one of her curves that she wore on their one and only date, so far. He doesn’t care if she is real. He doesn’t care if this is another dream. She’s here beside him and he couldn’t imagine anything better.


“God, I forgot how heavy you are,” she babbled quickly, as she struggled to move towards a door.


“Merlyn?” he whispers.


“I don’t know where Malcolm Merlyn is,” she spits out, trying to maneuverer both of them carefully down a flight of stairs. “And I don’t care. Ra’s can find him and gut him himself if he wants. Merlyn left you at the mercy of the most dangerous man in the world once again. I don’t care if he finally meets his maker this time.”


The sunlight blinds him as they step out into the open. The flapping of red flags assaults his eyes and ears, as they move across the dirt-covered ground. He hears the rhythmic thumping of what he thinks are the blades of a helicopter as they move farther away from the building that they had just been in.


He smiles as he sees Diggle help pull his body into the helicopter. His smile grows wider as he spots Thea is the co-pilot seat, relief gracing her face as she smiles at him. He cannot believe his eyes as he spots her sitting beside him, clutching one of his hands in both of hers. She’s here, he thinks. She’s here with him, he thinks. He cannot help but smile that smile that he reserves only for her as he stares into her eyes. Seeing relief, joy, and above all else, love in her eyes. He doesn’t care if this is a dream. All he knows is that he is going to try his hardest to make her believe in his love once again, to make her believe that they are not unthinkable once more. He is going to try his hardest to make her fall in love with him once again, if it is the last thing he ever does.


The last things he sees before he falls back asleep, is her face back-dropped by the reddish-orange haze of the setting sun behind them.