A/N: Hey guys! Here, we are, the end of the story! I hope you enjoy, please remember to review ;)
In the beginning, there was darkness.
All she knew, all she ever was, her entire existence, was there in that dark cell. Her history erased by a man with cold eyes and hands better than any weapon.
She was reborn, a tabala rosa, a blank slate, an observer of the continuous black night.
Alone, afraid, nothing.
And then there was Oliver.
Oliver with the blue eyes and warm skin, hands that flexed with strength but touched her with careful, gentle precision. Oliver, who wove in and out of her dreams.
Oliver who held her hand, Oliver who smiled, Oliver who lit up the stars.
Then came the sister, Thea, John the friend, Lyla the wife, Sara, the baby named after a warrior she doesn't remember.
And Oliver, always Oliver. Guiding her, holding her, making her feel safe when she had nothing but him, a head full of useless facts with no thread to tie them together.
Now there was only chaos.
By the time Thea shows up at the loft Felicity's moved on from the wine glasses to the tumblers.
"What the hell is going on?" Thea asks, flinching at the sound of breaking glass. "It didn't work?"
"Oh, it worked," Oliver says wryly.
"Then why is she breaking all the glassware?"
"We didn't read the fine print." He hands the instructions for the spell over to his sister. Written in small letters on the back of the page:
Memory recall may be initially accompanied by extreme and/or excessive emotional response.
"Oh," Thea whispers, "any particular memory-"
"You!" Felicity shouts, coming around the table to point her finger at Thea. "You knew he was married and you were just gonna let me think-"
"She remembers Nyssa," he explains dryly. "Hence the mess."
"I don't think a League wedding is technically legally binding," Thea jokes weakly. "And it would have been kind of hard to explain the circumstances, you know-"
"Unbelievable!" Felicity shouts, angrily pushing her hair away from her face. "You-goddamn-you Queens are fucking unbelievable! I cannot believe all the shit I put up with, and you were just going to-what if I never remembered?"
"Felicity, honey," he says tightly. "Just take a deep breath."
"Screw you," she yells. "Screw you and your pretty face, and you just...just..."
"You're overwhelmed," he says. "It's a side affect of the spell."
"I cannot believe I let you perform magic on me," Felicity snarls. "Jesus Christ, Oliver."
"Well, it worked, didn't it?" Thea says cheerfully. "You didn't break all the glasses, did you?"
"Um-maybe," Felicity mutters.
"Oh well," Thea says, a bright smile on her face. "Guess we'll have to drink from the bottle."
She wakes up in the morning warm all over, the memory of her dream still freshly imprinted.
Oliver's hands all over her, his weight heavy over hers, her body melting like warm honey. Felicity rolls on her side, thighs pressed together against the wetness between her legs.
Oliver is staring at her, looking beautiful against the cream sheets. He gives her a slow, sleepy smile, one hand sliding under the sheet to rest on her hip.
"You're staring," she says softly, aware of the heat from his palm sinking into her skin.
Oliver smiles gently. "I missed you."
His thumb starts to run over her hipbone and Felicity sighs. "Mmhm. That feels good."
"Did you sleep well?"
She rolls a little on one flank, their legs tangling together. "I dreamt we were making love inside Aladdin."
Oliver grins. "Nanda Parbat."
"Our first time."
He pushes into her a little, so he can curl one arm under her shoulders. "That was a good night."
"That was one good part of a terrible night," she corrects.
"Worth it," Oliver says, his hand splayed between her shoulder blades.
"So worth it."
"So you remember that, huh?" Oliver murmurs.
Felicity's mouth goes dry. "Uh-huh."
Oliver curls over her and she presses her thighs tighter together. "You sure you don't want a refresher?"
Oh sweet baby Jesus. "Um...yeah. I could use a refresher."
Oliver presses his lips to her collarbone. "I was hoping you'd say that."
The hand on her hip slides over to her stomach and she swallows a moan, remembering the dream, how good she felt, how good he made her feel.
"Felicity," Oliver groans against her throat, and bands his arm around her so she's pressed against his chest. "God, sweetheart."
"Oliver." She's wearing a pair of thin cotton shorts and one of his tee shirts with the arms cut off. His hand creeps up her stomach, making her muscles clench.
He pushes against her and Felicity whimpers, letting her legs fall open so he can settle in the cradle of her hips. He's solid muscle on top of her, resting on his forearms so he doesn't crush her.
"God, Oliver," she pants, rolling her hips. "Sorry about last night, I wasn't myself-"
"Fine, it's fine," he mutters, distracted with yanking the shirt off her head and kicking off his sweatpants. "Who cares, it's over-"
"I love you," she blurts out, pulling him back down on top of her. "I love you so much."
Oliver's mouth comes down to her chest, making her gasp and arch up into him. "I love you too."
She's shaking, her fingers gripping his waist , moaning when he rolls his hips. "Oliver, God, Oliver-"
"I know, baby, I know." He has one hand between her legs, sliding under her shorts where she's slick with need.
She cries out, her toes digging into the mattress at the touch of his fingers, something in her center curling in on itself.
"Shh, relax," he whispers, going slowly, slowly, parting her carefully, pressing down with the heel of his hand just where she needs the most pressure. "I've got you."
Felicity shuts her eyes, and lets herself falls, knowing Oliver will be there to catch her.
She lets Oliver bring her back to the light.
In the beginning there was darkness.
Sara screaming for him helplessly. Water, cold and dark, fighting the air in his lungs, the salt making his eyes burn.
A gunshot echoing across an endless sea while a boat sinks.
Shado, Slade. Waller.
Blood. Hunger like he'd never known, his ribs aching with need. The fear like an animal, his chest always tight, heart pounding in his ears.
Five years where nothing good happened.
Then Oliver came home. Stumbled along, messed things up with everyone, Tommy, Laurel. His mother. Fought and ran and hurt alone, tunnel vision, the ghost of his father squatting on his shoulder.
And then there was Felicity.
Silky blond hair, blue eyes like a cloudless spring sky, body like an old time pin up model.
Felicity with her brilliant brain, that smile, shiny white teeth and pink lipstick.
She'd smile at him and he'd get the strangest feeling in his chest, like he could almost see the cartoon bubble hovering above her head:
Stick with me, kid, and this too can be yours.
A life of sunshine, and kindness, a soft skinned girl who give you chance after chance to break her heart.
A girl who would die for you.
A girl you'd never allow to be hurt because of you.
Of course he's changed in the years since he's been back. Become serious, more grounded, introspective. He's lost his mother, and Tommy. Gained friends, a purpose, something greater than himself.
But in the end it all comes down to her. Felicity. His yearning to be a better man, to change, to make something good in this mess of his life.
Felicity waiting for him on her pedestal with her arms outstretched, waiting for him to be ready for her.
Felicity who brought him back into the light.