This one-shot is my take on an "Heir to the Demon" follow-up. It's loosely based on the spoilers I've read and seen for the following episode, and was requested by an anon on tumblr.

Spoilers for 2x13 and 2x14 promos

WRECK OF THE DAY

Felicity paced around the office, the sound of her bright pink heels echoing in the empty floor. He was late. Though she knew Oliver had a reputation for being late, today she feared it may be because of her.

Yesterday she had told him the truth. The life changing, devastating truth she had unburied. Over the last couple of days she had debated whether or not to tell him, Moira's words imprinted on her mind, yet she knew what she should do.

Oliver had beaten her to it, effortlessly reading her. He saw through the fidgeting and her evasive 'I'm fine'. So when he confronted her about it at Moira's campaign launch she crumbled down, tears blurring her vision. The fear of him pushing her away paralyzed her. Still as their eyes met and he whispered reassuring words, the intensity in his stare showing her he meant it, she had told him everything. About her father. About Malcolm, Moira, Thea.

She cringed at the memory of his pained expression. She couldn't even fathom how he had managed to get on that stage afterwards, spoken such kind words about the woman who had torn his world apart, a convincing smile plastered on his face. After that she had barely seen him as he had rushed away. She wanted to chase him so badly, wanting to comfort him somehow, but had respected his wish for privacy, knowing he needed time to process it all.

The sound of the elevator brought her to the present as she rushed to meet him, questions flooding her mind. Oliver walked into their floor, shoulders slumped, looking exhausted. As their eyes met he tensed visibly and she feared the worst: he was mad at her. Then he smiled as he greeted her, but it was strained. She eyed him as he took his usual place behind his desk and went to work. Something was off.

He looked hurt, deflated, but also… apologetic? She found herself looking at him through the glass, trying and failing to read his expression. The newfound awkwardness between them didn't sit well with her.

That night it all made sense.

She arrived early at the foundry, needing to put her mind to work and, as usual, ran the security cameras' footage from the night before. It was a standard security check she did over the lair and its entrance on the alley. It usually just resulted in finding Oliver's overnight trainings; but not that time. Her face fell as she saw Oliver close the space between him and Sara, lowering his mouth on hers. As their clothing got discarded she turned it off, deleting the recording all together. Her vision blurred, a hand pressed against her lips to stop the sobs from being heard. In the emptiness of the lair she let go, feelings washing over her.

By the time Oliver showed up with Diggle she was hard at work, having eventually pulled herself together. She turned to face them silently, her eyes meeting Oliver's. He pressed his mouth into a hard line at her stern look. She knew.

"Dig, could you excuse us for a moment?"

Diggled looked at them both, noticing a silent conversation was going on, but suspecting it was about whatever had transpired between them at Moira's event. With a slight nod he walked away, the sound of the door closing behind him echoing in the deafening silence of the lair.

"Felicity" he began but faced only with her poignant stare he failed to go on. She was at a loss for words as well. There were many things she wanted to say but didn't feel entitled to. So she left an unspoken question hang in the air. Why?

She felt betrayed, and was well aware it didn't make sense. After all they were nothing. He didn't own her any explanations. Still it hurt like hell. His words that day after Russia echoed on her mind; the ones she had felt were about them, what they could be. But now, as he had broken his rule with someone else she felt naïve.

His eyes bore through hers, a mix of unreadable feelings shining in his clear blue eyes. Silence stretched through them as neither dared to make a move. The distinct sound of the key pad followed by Sara's heeled boots strutting down the stairs broke the spell. She turned away and walked to her desk trying to compose herself, blinking away the tears that threatened to give her pain away.

Sara walked to Oliver's side, her eyes falling on Felicity's retreating form, concern written on her face. Then she turned to Oliver with a questioning eyebrow raised. He gave her a light nod, a stern look on his face. She sighed, eyes snapping shut in regret. It seemed like the line of people she was hurting just kept growing by the day. Before she could approach her, Felicity stood up, strode across the room and left through the alley exit, eyes never meeting hers.

"We need to talk" she said softly, facing Oliver.

Felicity sat at her desk at home typing swiftly, an empty cup of coffee laid besides her laptop. She had held onto the tears until she was in the safety of her apartment. Over the next hours the tears had dried and she had been left feeling anger, confusion and mostly fear.

Oliver had the nasty habit of pulling the rug from under her, just when she thought she had him figured out. It felt like they took a step forward, from friends to partners, and she had gotten her hopes up. She had long ago came to terms with her feelings from him, right after he had came back from the island the second time; but she had gotten used to being his friend, taking as much as he was willing to give her. She was happy simply being by his side, knowing he wasn't ready to let her in, and neither of them was eager to tarnish the team's balance.

Now she felt sucker punched. It made sense, in a way. She was well aware of his history with Sara and, knowing she had endured the island's horrors with him, that Sara could understand him like no one else. Still she hadn't seen it coming, maybe being too blinded by her own feelings. She had experienced jealousy over Oliver in the past, but this time was different. She was in pain. And what was worse, it had unbalanced their sound partnership.

Over the next couple of days there was a palpable tension in the foundry. Where her rambling and Diggle's snarky comments once filled the air, there was silence, talking only reserved to something case-related. She kept her relationship with Oliver strictly professional and the light-hearted conversations she used to share with Sara were gone.

Felicity had poured herself completely to her job, eyes glued to her computers as the rest of the team sparred behind her. Between her now strained relationship with Oliver and the awkwardness with Sara she felt left out, the arrow team's dynamic she cherished now barely a memory. So as soon as her work was done she was out the door, uttering a rushed goodbye on her way out. Things at the office were even worse, that's how she had turned to working much more arrow-business from home. It also helped her thoughts stay away from the whole Oliver debacle.

That's where she was when an alert about the target she was researching flashed on her screen. She chuckled to herself reading his name; villains certainly needed to improve their creativity. Her hand reached for her phone, but her fingers froze before she speed dialed him. Tonight he was patrolling and, after all, this was just a lead. It could be nothing. Before she could second guess herself she grabbed her coat and rushed out.

It turned out to be more than just a lead. She had walked into the clock king's lair, overridden his security and by the time she realized it would be best to call for back-up she received a hard blow from behind and fell unconscious to the floor. Without her glasses and the searing pain from the gash on her head the memories were quite fuzzy. But as she lay in the arrow cave, Diggle bitting her head off for going solo while healing her wounds, she recalled the paralyzing fear she felt staring into the clock king's deadly eyes, an explosion going off, arrows swiftly flying around and Sara's silhouette towering over her. She had taken her out of there into Diggle's arms, who took her to the place that once felt like home.

When Oliver burst through the door he rushed to her side and enveloped her in a hug before she could stop him. His arms pressed against her back as he breathed deeply into her hair. Her eyes fluttered shut at the contact, hand coming up to grip his shoulders, her head firmly pressed against his chest. Diggle slipped out silently, as they got lost in their embrace. In the safety of his arms she let the night's events wash over her, and sobbed against his chest.

She didn't know how much time had passed when she pulled away and met his eyes. Unlike Diggle's worried expression, his face was marred with pain and guilt, surely mirroring hers.

"I'm sorry" she breathed softly.

"Me too" he replied, with a pointed look. His hand found hers, blue eyes tracing her delicate features, trying to read her thoughts. She simply breathed him in, gathering strength for what she knew had to be done.

"I miss you… I miss us, how easy it used to be." She whispered as their eyes locked. "And I don't wanna run away", her voice broke, eyes glistening with tears.

"Then don't" he said, desperation clear in his tone. He took a deep breath, knowing it was time to be honest. There was so much he wanted to tell her; how his life was so dull and empty without her in it, how she made him be the best version of himself, how that day after Russia he had been talking about them. That he wished he was ready, but he was not. He knew he didn't deserve her, that he couldn't be the man she needed; not right now. But how he wished he could be.

"I'm sorry I hurt you" he said. "Me and Sara… it was a mistake. I was just angry, disappointed… and she was there. She didn't know the whys, didn't ask either. We were both in a bad place and for the longest time that was the way I handled it. Either that or going for the kill" he finished, eyes lost in the distance.

She studied the changes on his face, how his jaw tightened at the memories of the campaign launch, and how deflated he looked thinking of Tommy. Oliver hardly ever shared his feelings or the reasons behind his actions, so she listened, silently asking him to go on.

"I'm not good for you, in any way. So I really don't know what gives me the right to do this" he paused, pressing her palm against his chest, "but I want… I need you to stay with me, with us. To go back to how we were" he finished faintly, wanting much more but not daring to go for it.

Felicity wanted nothing more than say yes, her work in the arrow team being the best thing she had ever done. Still there was a pang on her chest at the thought of keep being on the sidelines, when she desperately needed more.

"I wish there was more I could be… with you. But I can't… not now." He whispered, like reading her mind. She met his intense stare, finding her Oliver, no masks in place.

"Will that ever change?" she dared to say, needing something to hold onto. Yet she was met by his silence and a meaningful look. I don't know.

She dropped her hand from his hold and took a step back, collecting herself. Wiping a stray tear from her face she looked at him. She needed to move on. It would be far easier to do so being away from him, but there was no way she would survive it.

"Ok. But no more lies, or half-truths. Just, be honest, and so will I." she said, a weak smile on her face.

It would take some time to find a new normal.

Sara came and went, her fallout with her family being too hard to handle, but over time Felicity and her had eased back to being friends. Diggle and Roy were more than happy to have her back to her bubbly self. And Oliver had begun smiling again.

Still there was a weight hanging above them now, about what they wanted and had acknowledged that night yet were too scared to face. Since then longing looks and hesitant touches of comfort did the talking. He wasn't ready but he sure was trying to be.

Hope you liked it!

Thank you for reading! As always, encouragement or constructive criticism is greatly appreciated :)