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The broken clock is a comfort, it helps me sleep tonight
Maybe it can stop tomorrow from stealing all my time
“...will you make me the happiest man on the face of the earth?”
I knew I was blushing, smiling from ear to ear. The air was brisk and the crowd were staring, but as I stood there, my hands clapped together, seeing the blueness of his eyes, the smile on his perfect face – it was the easiest answer for me to give.
“Yes,” I nodded.
The cheers and applause were loud but all I saw was him, the man that held my heart and was perfect in a million different ways.
Our lips met softly, my hand grazing the side on his face.
He slid the ring on my finger and my heart skipped a beat. There was something more I wanted to say, something I had been holding on to for a few days, but not here, not now. I bit my lip from spilling my words, I wasn’t particularly good at keeping things from Oliver, but this was special, this needed to wait.
As I admired the ring in the back of the limo, sitting as close to him as humanly possible without climbing on his lap – which, full disclosure, I had thought about doing. My heart was bursting with happiness. I was going to wait till we were home, hold his hands, make him close his eyes and then present him with the purchase I’d snuck off to buy earlier in the day. His face! I was giddy imagining his face.
“To tell you the truth, I don’t even care about the bling,” I smiled, casually shrugging in jest, “all I care about is you.”
We kissed, oblivious to the cars pulling up around us.
The limo stopped, Oliver looked around, his face doing that concerned thing it does.
“What’s going on?” as he spoke, figures cast in the rays of headlights caught his attention.
He saw the danger before I did, I merely caught the look on his face. It was the same look he had on the first date we had that was rudely interrupted when the restaurant was blown up – I still had the ruined red dress to prove it.
Then the sounds, the loud banging piercing through the still evening, the glass shattering and the bullets penetrating the metal of the car. I felt his weight on me as he threw me down on the seat, his large statue covering me as best he could. His hand shielded my face from the glass that rained down on us. Despite what I knew he faced every night and what I had occasionally been involved in myself, I could feel his heart beating against me – he was scared.
He didn’t say anything as he risked the barrage of bullets to climb over the front seat.
It felt like a bee sting followed by a sharp devastating pain, it took my mind a few moments to register. This was different to the first time, the time that had given me the scar I wore proudly. The scar that Oliver would gently stroke at night when he thought I was asleep. No this was different, this was an instant crippling feeling resonating through my body.
I felt the car jolt, rise and come down with a bang.
I looked up and saw the back of his head, my arm stretched out, my fingertips longing to grab him, but I couldn’t reach. I went to speak, but I didn’t have any breath to make a sound.
Oliver
“Oliver?” barely a whisper.
Oliver
Then nothing.
My eyes hurt, the light was harsh. There were noises behind me, beeping, tapping of shoes on linoleum floors. My head hurt. My throat is dry, my lips cracked and pursed shut.
Eyes open, eyes close.
“Felicity? Can you hear me?”
A male voice, a hand touching my face prying open my eye. A light in my face. I shook my head. Go away.
My hand answered my minds instruction and attempted to push his hand away. I wanted away from this person, my brain was working slowly trying to process the violation that I felt. My legs? I was beckoning them to get me away, they weren’t answering. Was I tied down?
“Oliver?” I don’t know if the word passed my lips or not.
Then nothing.
I am here still waiting though I still have my doubts
I am damaged at best, like you've already figured out
The second time I woke the light was less intrusive. The beeping was still there and there was a smell now, a smell of pineapple and coconut, I knew that scent....I knew it, what was that smell?
My eyes opened – adjusted now to the overhead florescent lights.
Pina colada perfume I knew it, mom?
“Felicity? Can you look at me please?” same annoying male voice.
I blinked in his direction.
“Oh baby, thank god,” a female spoke from the other side of me.
“Mom?” I spoke, but the noise was foreign to me, my voice was raspy and strained.
“I’m here baby, oh my sweet girl," mom announced, reaching passed the guy that was still standing there – whoever he was – “I’m right here."
Oliver, where was Oliver my eyes widened
“Ol..iver?” I managed.
“Sshh, it’s ok baby, relax, he’s fine,” she replied, stroking the hair from my face.
“Felicity, I’m doctor Clarke, I just need to run a few tests, OK? “
Was he actually asking? Could I say no? He was annoying me. I just wanted Oliver.
Follow the light – write something down. Move your hands – write something down. Push the pen with your toes – no writing – try again – write something down. Does this hurt? – what? He wasn’t doing anything.
He kept writing, his pen scrawling across the paper.
“Thanks Felicity, I’m going to come back and see you soon okay?"
“Where’s Oliver?” I pleaded, I didn’t understand, why wouldn’t they let him be here?
“Rest up baby, sshhh,” mom coached gently.
My eyes felt heavy again. Oliver?
I'm falling apart, I'm barely breathing
With a broken heart that's still beating
I tried to listen to what they were telling me as mom gripped my hand. My legs didn’t work, they wanted to operate again to see if the damage could be undone. The moment was surreal, like I was watching someone else get the news.
News...oh god, the news
My hand moved to my stomach, I didn’t know what I was expecting to find. I looked at mom, the doctor and down at my stomach. Oliver, the news.
“I need to ask you,” I paused looking from the doctor to mom and back to the doctor. This isn’t how this was supposed to come out, Oliver was suppose to be the person to hear it first.
But I needed to know.
Subconsciously my hand moved across my stomach on top of my gown.
“I need to ask you,” the tears started, get it out Felicity, “ask you...”
The doctor gently touched my arm, like he knew the question I was going to ask.
“I’m sorry Felicity, there was nothing we could do. Your baby didn’t survive.”
I choked in air. My lip quivered, I looked at mom for some reason expecting disappointment, but instead I was met with a soft, concerned smile. She already knew. She kissed my forehead as my eyes welled up and the floodgate of tears opened.
I’m so sorry Oliver.
I closed my eyes to cry again.
The broken lights on the freeway left me here alone
I may have lost my way now, haven't forgotten my way home
I had made mom promise not to say anything. I would tell Oliver, it should come from me. Diggle, Laurel and Thea visiting brought me great comfort, to be surrounded by people who loved you at the time you needed them – I knew I was lucky.
Oliver wasn’t with them, but I understood why. I knew him well enough to know where he would be. I desperately wanted him here, but as I feigned a smile to assure everyone I would be fine, I was happy not to have to see him right now – to tell him what I know I should. No, it could wait. I swallowed down the pain, I needed it to wait, I wasn’t ready to go there.
I had taken a test a week ago, I had known a week before that but everything had been so busy and honestly I hadn’t come to terms with the news myself. I had sat on the information unsure how to tell Oliver. When mom found the ring I knew his love was on the level that he would be excited by this, so I allowed myself to be happy, it was a good thing. He was everything to me.
Between then and the holiday party that night, I had snuck out alone to buy a tiny baseball shirt (gender nuetral white of course) with #1 daddy written on it, that would be how I would tell him.
I was about 8 weeks along. Was.
And then everything turned upside down and now I had only bad news.
To get through the hard times because we are together, not in spite of it. That is what I had told him sitting in Damien's cage. Could we get through this?
I had wanted to tell him then, but I hadn’t. I hadn’t got to tell him or to see the smile I had pictured him giving me, that had been ripped away from me and my heart was shredded.
“Hey stranger,” I half smiled as Oliver walked in the room closing door behind him with a click.
“Sorry I didn’t come by sooner, it’s unforgivable,” he sighed as he took the seat beside me.
The pain was written all over his face, I knew him well enough to know he had taken this into his soul. That he blamed himself and that he needed his Girl Friday to pick him up, so we talked about what he needed to hear to get through this, I needed him to get through this so that when I needed to get through he would be whole enough to pick me up and tell me what I needed to hear.
I was brutally aware things had changed, I wasn’t the whole person he had proposed to, I was now broken. Physically and emotionally – broken.
“Felicity,” he reached into his jacket pocket returning with the ring in his hand. “The nurse, she took this off of you in the ER,” he softly smiled down at me, “how dare she,” he slipped the ring back on my trembling hand.
Taking it into his own with a grip that made me feel safe he searched my eyes and simply said, “for better or for worse."
I felt the tears sliding their way down my face, I wanted desperately to tell him. I needed him to know but as I searched his kind blue eyes, I couldn’t. I couldn’t break him anymore than he already was.
“Yep,” a half smile as I swallowed down the words I wanted to say.
I’m sorry Oliver.
I knew his focus was everything, if he lost his focus he would lose this fight. He couldn’t lose and I couldn’t be the reason. No, this was a secret I would keep locked away until this was over, until he came back to me whole enough to take it.
I still see your reflection inside of my eyes
That are looking for a purpose, they're still looking for life
“Oliver, we need to talk,” I spoke, hoping the words would find me.
“About a number of things I suspect,” he replied, sighing as he bowed his head.
So much pain coursed through our words. Like a blackened abyss that we were on the opposite sides of. I understood his reasons for doing what he thought was right and I understood the choice he was forced to make but as my broken spirit thought back to the doctors words I’m sorry....your baby died I had nothing left to give Oliver.
I wanted to tell him when he begged me to let him in and talk to him. I wanted to tell him when my father reappeared. I wanted to tell him when he found me in a crumpled heap, crying on the bathroom floor. When he asked why we should wait to get married the words almost came out. After the surgery when he waited on me hand and foot and the care behind his eyes was so deep. But, I didn’t, I couldn’t and then William - so I shouldn't.
Now here I was placing the engagement ring on the table in front of him.
I had nothing left to hold on to.
I had nothing left to rely on.
I was broken.
I'm falling apart, I'm barely breathing
With a broken heart that's still beating
Please note: This story now interlinks with Sorry (It's not a prequel or a sequel, but they interlink)