Summary: Takes place after "Draw Back Your Bow", so spoiler alert if you haven't seen that episode yet.

After witnessing the kiss between Felicity and Ray, Oliver is forced to think about the choices he's made and what he may or may not deserve.

Disclaimer: *to the tune of Don't Stop Believin,* Just a small town girl (...yeah, let's pretend New York is a small town...), living in an Arrow obsessed world. She loves to write fanfics but isn't claiming ownership over annyyyyythiiing.

Author's note: Hullo! So, this is my very first Arrow fic. Eeep! Nervous! haha. Not to mention first fic (not counting joint ventures via another account) in at least a couple of years. I've been wanting to write an Arrow fanfic for a long time but up until now couldn't stick to something long enough without writer's block getting in the way. Grr. But, yay, that seems to have changed. This idea stuck in my head and seems to not be giving me a moment's rest until I do something with it. Here's hoping I'm doing something non-horrible with it haha.

"What made you change your mind?" Came a voice. Oliver blinked and tore himself away from his thoughts as he heard the glass door click shut behind him. He turned to see Diggle joining him on the small balcony outside his and Lyla's living room. He held two bottles of beer by the neck in one hand, while the other had pulled the door shut behind him. Diggle had wondered what had led Oliver to accept his offer for dinner and bring Roy along, all throughout the meal, but he decided to keep his question to himself.

A part of him had some idea, not much of one, but he figured it had something to do with his feelings towards a certain blonde friend of theirs and a desire to not be alone. Which Diggle was more than willing to take. That was what he wanted for Oliver, it had been his intent in extending the offer earlier that evening. He didn't want Oliver to sink into his isolation. So, he was happy to open his door to find Oliver and Roy at his doorstep, his two comrades coming in and reaching out to him and Lyla-both literally and figuratively-in accepting their offer of...some sort of quasi-family dynamic.

The dinner had felt nice, cozy. The four of them sat at the table and talked about everything and nothing at the same time. They had all seemed to silently agree to not touch certain topics, pretty much anything that could destroy their light hearted family dinner. If anything pertaining to the way the three men spent their evenings, or Lyla's work with ARGUS came up in their idle chit chat, they all instinctively knew to only focus on things of positive or comical nature, such as Roy sharing his coming across an attempted mugging while out patrolling the streets a few months ago, back in the earlier days of being part of the team; the thief devolving from a scary punk with a switchblade into some character in a slapstick comedy as he scrambled away from the vigilante in red, tripping over his own feet, running into trashcans as he ran down the alley.

"Did you catch him?" Lyla asked, pausing from eating as she laughed at the image Roy had created.

"I was too busy trying not to fall down laughing!" Roy replied. "This guy's tumbling around trashcans like some sort of pinball, I'm starting to lose the fight against staying serious, and I've got Felicity's voice in my ear trying to help me keep it together." The mention of Felicity had brought the laughing to a slight halt, as a look of pain crossed Oliver's face for a brief moment and Diggle and Lyla-who had been made privy to a fair amount of current state of things by Diggle-both gave him a look of concern. Roy had caught onto his misstep and had awkwardly shut his mouth, lowering his head to focus on his food. They had all sat in silence for a few moments before Diggle took charge and continued the story with a chuckle.

"Well, it's a good thing the guy ended up running right into the arms of two SCPD officers," he said, "since chuckles over here

was having such a rough go of it." That had brought laughter and levity to the table for the rest of the meal, though Diggle had noticed Oliver's smiles and laughs were no longer as genuine. It was what had led Diggle to give him some space for some time after Oliver, his offers to help with the dishes gently rebuffed by Lyla, had decided to get some fresh air on the balcony. He had watched his friend simply look out toward the city for nearly twenty minutes before deciding to offer his service as a listening ear.

"I don't know," Oliver had said with his trademark "shrug and sigh" move as he accepted the beer Diggle held out to him. The two men popped open their drinks and silently sipped, Oliver going back to gazing at the night sky, and Diggle simply standing there for whenever Oliver decided to change his answer. After a few minutes of silence, Diggle's patience paid off as Oliver finally began to speak. "I went by Queen Consi..." Oliver began, pausing before rolling his eyes and looking ruefully at his beer bottle and taking a small sip, "Palmer Technologies," he corrected himself. Diggle glanced at him.

"And I'm guessing it wasn't a pleasant visit," Diggle knowingly replied.

"It was a short one," Oliver stated, "I didn't exactly feel like sticking around too long after I nearly walked in on Felicity and Palmer kissing in her office,...which also happens to be my former office," he said with a small sardonic chuckle as he took a long swig of his beer. Diggle closed his eyes and sighed, an overwhelming feeling of sympathy and guilt filling hm. Though unsaid, he figured Oliver had decided to take his advice and go talk to Felicity. Though he would never regret trying to get it through Oliver's head that pushing Felicity away was a terrible idea, he couldn't help feel badly over the fact that Oliver finally taking his words to heart had led him to where he was now.

"I'm sorry, man," Diggle said, reaching over and placing a hand on his friend's shoulder. Oliver sighed and rested his beer against the ledge of the balcony, his free hand gliding over his short hair.

"I wanted to..." Oliver paused again and shook his head, "I don't even know what I wanted to do," he admitted.

"Yes you do," Diggle said, refusing to let Oliver lock himself into his numb prison. Oliver glanced over at him and gave him a resigned half smile, deciding not to fight being called out.

"Yeah, you're right," he sighed. "I got off that elevator ready to tell her I didn't want to hide behind my mask from her anymore," he quietly admitted, "I knew it probably wasn't going to be easy, but I figured the hardest part would be just saying that...and any promises, convincing, begging, she'd more than rightfully feel the need to put me through would be worth it, as long as I could just let myself finally be honest with her. If she told me to break off a piece of glass from my...her...desk, and swallow it whole to prove how serious I was, I would've done it," he said with a sad smile.

"I doubt she would've taken it that far," Diggle joked. He needed it to ease some of his nerves. He had never heard Oliver be so earnest about his feelings like this. He hadn't been kidding when he told Felicity Oliver was more likely to go into battle with the League of Assasins than be completely open with his feelings. And yet, here he was, openly discussing his feelings. Diggle understood it was probably an effect of building himself up to be honest with Felicity, and since Diggle was rightly assuming Oliver hadn't had a chance to let it out, Diggle was now on the receiving end of Oliver needing to burn through his emotions.

"I just made it to outside the door," Oliver shared, continuing his story, "hand up, ready to pull it open when I saw it; the two of them kissing, hands on one another..." his voice trailed off as he sighed, his eyes closing for a moment. "So I left," he continued, "went back to the foundry, and engaged in some mild tantrum fueled property destruction."

"Define mild," Diggle spoke, his brows furrowing as he wondered how much of a 'tantrum' Oliver had sunk into, and what state their base of operations was currently in. "We talking Undertaking eartquake, Slade Wilson tossing us around like ragdolls, or...Slade Wilson's buddies trashing the place while we were out?" Oliver couldn't help snorting out a chuckle at that.

"Nah, nothing like that," he assured him, "just tossing some things off a table. I might've gone into a full rampage," he admitted, "tossed the fern against the wall and everything, but Roy walked in before I could," he joked.

"Oh thank god for that, I'd hate to think the fern was a victim of your jealousy. Destroy all the computers and equipment you want, but don't you dare kill that love fern," Diggle laughed.

"It is not a love fern," Oliver commented, rolling his eyes. Diggle continued to laugh and leaned against the balcony ledge.

"Hey, it's a fern, it was given to you by the woman you love, ergo: love fern," Diggle continued to tease. Oliver looked down at his bottle of beer for a moment, his heart clenching breifly at the reality that yes, Felicity was the woman he loved. Diggle noticed Oliver's silence and quickly sobered up from his laughing reverie. "Sorry," he said, his earlier guilt returning. Yet again, Oliver was quiet for a moment. He brought his beer up to his lips and took a long thoughtful drink.

"I missed my chance, Digg," Oliver stated, his tone sad and lost. Diggle looked down at his feet. He wanted to tell him that wasn't necessarily certain, that there could still be hope, but he was afraid of shoving false unconfirmed confidence down Oliver's throat again. He felt responsible for Oliver witnessing a rather crystal clear example of her moving on. Working for Palmer, going to dinner with him, these were all things Felicity denied meant anything, and Diggle believed that much was true as far as her feelings were concerned. Perhaps it didn't matter that Ray may have more than platonic thoughts concerning Felicity, if Felicity's intentions were purely platonic. But a kiss? That was something else. Something that couldn't be denied. Felicity was living her life, perhaps attempting to move on and get from Ray what Oliver had previously been to scared to give her: love, a full life, a possible future. It was just unfortunate timing that led Oliver maybe finally being ready to give that to her, to happen just as the possibility of it coming from another source making itself known.

"I wish I knew what to say," Diggle honestly replied. Oliver set his bottle down again.

"I've lost her," Oliver added before blinking for a moment and shaking his head, "actually, no I didn't," he quickly corrected himself. "I threw her away."

"Oliver-" Diggle began. He could see Oliver's road to self deprecation mapped out in front of them with that statement, and as his friend he hoped to steer him off that course.

"I did," Oliver insisted, "I closed myself off, and tossed her aside," he said, his voice strained. Diggle knew this tone. It was the same he used whenever he blamed himself for the troubles of the world. It was the same tone he had used when he had felt utterly hopeless with the threat of Slade Wilson hanging in the air. He had somehow found a way out of that hopelessness, though. Though, not 'somehow', Diggle knew exactly what, who, had had the biggest role in pulling Oliver out of that. But now, the person who had guided him out of his hopelessness was the very reason Oliver had once again found himself drowning in that feeling, which left Diggle at a complete lost over what to do.

"You make it sound like you deliberately set out to hurt her," Diggle offered, trying to get Oliver to ease some of the guilt off his shoulders. "It's not like you just callously used her and then rejected her."

"I might as well have," Oliver sighed. "She was happy...so was I," he said, his mind going back to the ill fated first date, "I pumped her full of hope...and then just snatch it away because I can't handle being both The Arrow and Oliver Queen." He placed his hands on the brick of the balcony's ledge, his fingers digging into the stone material as he sighed. "I didn't have the guts to be with her, but I also didn't have the guts to lie and say that I didn't love her."

"How would lying have helped?" Diggle questioned. Oliver shrugged.

"Maybe pissed her off a little less," he ruefully replied, "let her walk away thinking I'm a jerk who played with her emotions, instead of some coward who pushed her away." He lifted one of his hands and gripped his beer bottle, taking a quick gulp. "Give her some closure," he murmured thoughtfully, glancing down the opening of the bottle. He was quiet again before rolling his eyes, a "pfft," sound flittering past his lips. "And what, I actually expected her to just...wait?" He asked. Though Diggle was standing right beside him, he knew Oliver wasn't asking him this. He was asking himself that very question as he unleashed all his pent up emotions. "What kind of selfish prick does that?" He incrediously questioned, as if with newfound clarity. "She wanted to be with me. The restaurant we were in gets blown up, because of me...she gets knocked out, could've been blown to bits had we not dodged away in time...and yet, she still wanted to be with me," he ranted, "any other woman would've backed away, with good reason. Anyone else would've gotten a healthy dose of self preservation and said 'hey, you know what? Maybe this lightning rod to tragedy and mortal danger isn't someone I should be with', but not her. She still wanted me," he said, his last sentence spoken just barely above a whisper as he took on an awed tone.

"Oliver, you and I both know if the high probability of danger was a deterrent, Felicity would've walked away from all of this, from you, a long time ago," Diggle pointed out. "I know I had my doubts when you first brought her into this," he continued, thinking about how uncertain he felt not long after he and Felicity had managed to save Oliver from succumbing to his bullet wound after he tried to confront his mother in his vigilante persona. She was just an innocent girl from the IT department of Queen Consolidated. It was one thing for Oliver to get her assistance as he showered her with those god-awful lies about wanting to reconnect with old high school friends or "energy drinks", she was still outside that dangerous world, still safe. But bringing her in completely, confirming her suspicions which had been brought on by those aforementioned god-awful lies, was something completely different. And yet, he soon realized he really couldn't imagine how their team could've survived past those early months without her, and not just her technological expertise, but her heart, the way she cared about the two of them and extended that care to others who entered their world-first Sara, even with whatever heartache seeing Sara with Oliver might've caused her, and then Roy, who Felicity had taken to occasionally caring for like a little brother as he stepped in under Oliver's tutelage. "But," Diggle continued, "she's proven time and again she's a lot stronger than I initially thought. And I'm more than happy to admit I was wrong about her."

"Yeah," Oliver murmured, a small smile playing across his lips as he thought of all the times Felicity had both physically and emotionally bandaged them up after being knocked down.

"So, if you thought something as trivial as a missile going off a few feet away from her would send her running, you are a fool," Diggle joked, causing a laugh to drift out of Oliver.

"I guess so," Oliver agreed. He sighed. "I am a fool," he said, his smile fading, "she wanted...this...even with all the danger, all the craziness, and I couldn't even bring myself to accept it. Not only that, but I thought kissing her and telling her I couldn't say I didn't love her would somehow...I don't even know...be enough?" He spoke, regaining his earlier incredulous tone. "I never would've asked her to just sit behind her computer, waiting for something that I couldn't even promise her would happen eventually...but..." His voice trailed off as he looked away, ashamed.

"Deep down you hoped she would," Diggle said, finishing the thought Oliver couldn't bring himself to utter.

"Yeah," Oliver breathed out, bringing the bottle back to his lips and tossing back the last remnants of his beer. "Selfish, I know."

"Yeah. But, not completely hard to understand," Diggle offered. "Back when Lyla and I were married, I'll admit there were times I wished things were different, that we could have an actual normal marriage. A lot of that wishing involved wanting her to be different, for us both to just accept being civilians and have regular lives." He paused a moment to look past the glass door, into the living room, where Lyla sat on the couch talking to Roy as she held their daughter up against her shoulder and rubbed the infant's back, coaxing out any gas that may have been trapped from her recent bottle feeding. "I finally realized wanting those things was just me being selfish. I wanted her to change her life, hold herself back. So, we divorced before things went on too long and grew to resent each other too much." Oliver took in Diggle's words and followed his gaze to the living room. Lyla must have instinctively felt the two pairs of eyes on her because she tilted her gaze out towards the balcony, her eyes quickly finding Diggle's, and the two shared a smile.

"You two seemed to have bounced back from that," Oliver pointed out.

"Yeah," Diggle breathed out, his smile growing as he gazed at Lyla and Sara. "Seeing her again, after we had been apart for a long time, it just made things clear," he shared, "before, I was so focused on what I wanted our life to be like, and not focusing as much on just...I loved her, for everything that she was, and everything she wanted in life." He looked back at Oliver. "My point is, yeah, sometimes there'll be some moments of selfishness when you care about someone, it just depends on what you plan to do with that."

"Ray's the better man," Oliver firmly stated, albeit dejectedly, as if it pained him deeply to admit it. "He's what Felicity deserves."

"I think that's for Felicity to decide," Diggle replied. He let out a breath and shrugged. "I'm not saying you need to burst through her front door this minute and lay all your cards on the table, but I'm not saying you should just give up either." Oliver furrowed his brow and looked at Diggle as he busied himself with finishing his own bottle of beer.

"So what are you saying?" Oliver asked. Diggle swallowed his beer and thought for a moment.

"Okay, I'm not sure," he chuckled, "I suppose, just give it some time, and then do what you think feels right." Oliver opened his mouth to reply, question how the hell he was supposed to know what felt right without giving into any possible selfish line of thought, when they were both distracted by Lyla approaching the glass door, lightly bouncing Sara as she walked. Diggle stepped forward and opened the door for her.

"Hey," she softly stated, "sorry to interrupt-"

"No, please, it's fine," Oliver quickly assured his hostess. Lyla gave him a warm smile and nodded before turning her attention to the father of her child.

"Johnny, I'm about to put Sara down for the night, care to join me?" She asked, giving him a small grin, which Diggle quickly returned.

"Absolutely," he said, eagerly stepping close to the two women he loved. One arm went around Lyla's waist while he lifted the other to rub small circles on Sara's back. "It's time for bed little lady," he gently spoke to his daughter, smiling from ear to ear at her. Sara lifted her head off of Lyla's shoulder as much as her little neck could and looked at him, tiny gurgling raspberries blowing out of her lips as she gazed at her father, the side of her mouth quirking up into a little smile. Lyla chuckled and placed a kiss on the side of Sara's head as she and Diggle stepped back in from the balcony. "We'll be back," Diggle said, casting a look over at Oliver.

"No, it's okay," Oliver spoke up, "it's late. Roy and I should probably head out."

"Are you sure?" Lyla asked. "It's not a problem, you guys can stay as long as you need," she assured him. She felt Diggle gently tighten his hold on her waist, touched that she was so willing to continue to extend their home to his two brothers in arms.

"Thanks, but I wouldn't want to keep you guys up," Oliver gently declined. Lyla opened her mouth to argue further, but was stopped by Roy coming over and speaking up behind her.

"He's right. Besides, I sort of bailed on cleaning up the club tonight, I should probably head over early to finish it up," he said, joining Oliver in politely brushing off the hospitality.

"Alright," Lyla replied, giving up the ghost.

"Why don't you go ahead and get Sara changed for bed, and I'll join you after I see them out?" He offered. Lyla nodded. She stepped past Diggle towards Oliver to say goodbye, letting him give her a half one armed hug on the side not occupied by a sleepy infant as she gave him a quick peck on the cheek. She then stepped back inside and did the same with Roy.

"Thanks for having us," Roy commented, "you too, Sara," he lightly spoke as he smiled and patted the baby's hand.

"Anytime," Lyla stated with a warm smile. She gave the two guests one last parting "bye" before carrying Sara to her room. The three men made their way through the living room, engaging in idle parting small talk with "see you tomorrow," "have a good night", "thanks for dinner," thrown around as Diggle opened the door for them and they left.

Outside, Oliver and Roy silently walked down the street.

"So, feeling better?" Roy asked after some time, wondering if spending the evening with their friends had eased whatever had caused him to have a small meltdown in the foundry.

"A little," Oliver said after a moment, noting that some of the tightness he had felt in his chest had dissipated throughout dinner, as well as his talk with Diggle. "How about you?" He asked, tilting his gaze towards Roy. Roy sighed and looked away.

"Yeah, I guess," came his noncommittal response. Oliver looked down, feeling badly over not having done much to see about Roy's feelings other than dragging him along to Diggle and Lyla's.

"Do you want to talk about it?" He offered, though he knew Roy would brush it off as he had with similar offers these past few days. Roy shook his head, and stuffed his hands in his pockets, hunching his shoulders as if to lock himself away within himself.

"Just...more of the same," he said, "trying to come to grips with everything I did, and-"

"Roy-" Oliver argued, once again trying to convince him those things hadn't been his fault.

"I know what you're going to say, Oliver, and don't," Roy wearily requested. Oliver pressed his lips into a firm line and blew out a breath through his nose as he tried to adhere to Roy's wishes. "I know you want to help, and I'm grateful for that, I really am," he said, "but, I just...need to work my way through this myself for now, okay?"

"Yeah," Oliver reluctantly replied. Roy sighed and slumped his shoulders as the two continued to walk.

"And, it doesn't help that some guy's trying to put the moves on Thea," Roy muttered, causing Oliver to promptly stop walking.

"Wait, what?" He asked. Roy sighed and shook his head, stopping his own pace and turning to look at Oliver. "Explain," Oliver insisted, though with the protective brother edge in his tone, it sounded more like a command.

"This new DJ she got for the club. Some longhaired egotistical blowhard," Roy grumbled. He looked down at his feet for a moment, "after we closed up for the night, I started cleaning up when I saw him talking to her, being cocky, thinking he saved the club's opening and everything. And then...he kissed her," he bitterly concluded. Oliver blinked a few times, processing Roy's words and taking in his dejeccted look. He could've been looking in a mirror, and the fact that it took him this long into the evening to know they were in the same boat was giving Oliver a fresh dose of guilt.

"What happened?" Oliver questioned.

"Nothing," Roy shrugged. "He left, and at seeing Thea not exactly looking repulsed by that kiss, I went down to the foundry hoping to hit something, and found you aiming to do the same," he said. "Obviously your night was as spectacular as mine."

"Felicity, Ray Palmer...and pretty much the rest of your story," Oliver breezily replied.

"Ah," Roy said with an understanding nod. The two resumed walking, once again going quiet for a few blocks before Roy gave Oliver a sideways glance. "Well, I already have enough homicidal guilt...and pretty sure as Thea's secretive ex boyfriend I don't really have any right to kill this DJ Douchebag...but if her protective older brother wanted to, I certainly wouldn't object," he quipped. Oliver shook his head and chuckled, both at Roy's comment and the sheer irony that they had both been dealt similar blows that evening.

"I'll consider it," he joked, placing a hand on Roy's shoulder as they continued walking.

AN 2: Hope you enjoyed this little first step into Arrow fic writing ^_^. There is going to be more to this story, don't you fret. I had originally planned on starting this story right in the thick of things (which will most likely be 2nd chapter, stay tuned), but then decided to add in a little Oliver and Diggle chatting...and then the muses took over and had me spit out this long angsty chapter, haha. Granted...there is still some more angst to go...

Also, I know Roy seeing the kiss between Thea and DJ didn't actually happen (actually the more I think about it, I'm not entirely sure if that kiss scene happened before or after Roy and Oliver left to go to Diggle's place) but...meh. Roy was there, came across Oliver, looked troubled (which obviously could've been just over his guilt, and not the added Thea factor), so I just went with it, haha.