AN: Ok guys. This is my first step into this fandom. I simply had to write this to get it off my mind and to be able to continue with my other WIP. I haven't been able to exercise my writing for quite some time, so it all feels rusty and words don't come as easy any more. Still I hope I'm not too out of character. Feed-back would be deeply appreciated.

The room was dark except from the diffuse light emanating from the bedside lamp. The windows reverberated the glow of light from the street lamps far below Starling General. Despite the expensive furniture and the decent colours that discreetly adorned the walls of this suite it was obvious this was a hospital room, the monitor beeping a steady rhythm confirming it.

There was a hospital bed set to the left. A male figure occupied it seemingly peacefully asleep. His face was pale, the lines of his handsome traits drawn. A slight stubble covered his cheeks and dark circles shadowed his closed eyes. The covers were pulled up to his waist revealing a physique that screamed "regular workout" but they didn't hide the large bandages covering his chest and left shoulder. He was hooked up to a heart monitor and several IV-lines sneaked out of his left hand.

Over the past days the medical equipment had been tuned down as his body slowly recovered its functions. The first to go had been the ventilator, as his lungs had been able to completely resume their work on their own. Still there hadn't been any signs that he would wake up any time soon.

To his right side a chair had been placed near the bed, in it sat a frail figure slumped forward head resting on her arm. The blond haired woman looked exhausted and tense even in sleep. Her right arm was extended on the bed, the hand tightly clasped around the man's larger hand. The passing nurses hadn't had the heart to wake her up, even if visiting hours were long over. This patient didn't conform to the average patient policy anyway.

Right outside the door stood two men wearing elegant dark suits, their postures making it evident their job was to keep people safe. The slight bulge of the jackets made it clear they were armed, even here in the hospital. The one to the left discreetly surveyed the corridor to both sides while the other had turned towards the window allowing a large view of the room behind it. At this time of night there were only few people around: nurses on night duty scurrying the halls, doctors watching over desperate cases… so he had allowed himself to keep a silent vigil over the two people inside the room. In the dim light, he could only distinguish the outlines of their bodies. As his eyes quickly scanned the male figure lying on the bed his thoughts went back to that fateful night almost three weeks ago… an intense feeling of guilt spread inside him as his mind replayed the events… if only he had been faster, he might have prevented this outcome…

His eyes moved onto the other figure. Felicity. It hurt him to see her this way. Every evening she would come here, sneak into the room once Moira and Thea had left and sit by Oliver's bed until her body claimed its right to rest. Early in the mornings she would wake up hastily, push up her glasses and rapidly disappear through the door after sharing a look full of sadness with him. As time went by he had noticed she had lost some weight. She had told him her appetite was gone which seemed exceptional for a stress-eater. The long wait hadn't affected only her physical aspect, her usual bubbling energy had dimmed to a pale shade of its former brightness…

His heart went out to her. He knew how she felt about Oliver even though she never outright told him. It was evident in her demeanour and in her choice of words when her mouth inadvertently voiced her thoughts before her brain to mouth filter set in. He was also sure the feelings were shared. He could understand why his friend chose to not act upon what he felt even if he didn't approve of the chosen strategy. Life had taught him to seize the occasion when it presented itself. Oliver apparently wasn't of the same opinion or rather, he suspected, wasn't ready to commit to a person afraid to hurt those he cared for. The island had taught him to survive whatever the cost for him or others. Apparently Oliver still wasn't back from the island, not fully at least.

When would they both face their feelings? Would they face them at all before it was too late? He couldn't tell, he only hoped Oliver would soon realize that the way he had chosen, even filled with good intention was the wrong one. Yes, he had claimed he needed no one, but he had been obligated to all but admit his feelings to him when a certain Barry Allen had made Felicity travel to Central City to sit by his hospital bed. The irony wasn't lost on him that right now; she was facing the same situation in reverse mode with Oliver, only this was far worse in the light of the strong feelings she kept hidden accepting the archers' decision to keep her at arms' length for her safety.

Damn you Oliver… I warned you! You can't even protect yourself… Unbidden, these long forgotten words resurfaced as his mind wandered back to the day Felicity joined their team. Maybe his friend was right after all…