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It was brilliant. And it worked.
The reasoning was sound. The motives, justification--it was all logical, practical, necessary.
It was just...he hadn't accounted for...maybe NEITHER of them had thought through everything...
Oliver looked over at Felicity. Her head was resting on Digg's large shoulder, her hand laying over his forearm on the armrest.
Diggle caught Oliver's glance and smiled gently. Oliver lifted the corners of his mouth briefly before returning his attention to flying.
Except he was more focused on almost everything else. Flying them back to mainland China and their commercial connecting flight seemed to only receive the barest of his attention.
Felicity's words and her sweet, kind, strong face continued to cross his mind. From the shadows of his grand, former home to the deceptively pleasant sunshine of the island--it didn't matter where he was picturing her, their entire exchange seemed to be haunting him. More than anything else that was haunting him these days.
He wanted to look over at her again. But he didn't. John was already giving him occasional displeased faces regarding the plan, and it's fallout. It didn't really matter that the city was saved, many men cured, and Slade locked away. For both men, anything that upset or hurt their friend in anyway was not good.
Oliver heaved a sigh and finally looked again. Her face was so smooth and serene when she was sleeping. It was as though all the worry she had for him, for John, the city, for EVERYONE, was temporarily set aside and she was able to rest that brain and heart of hers.
Oliver snapped his eyes away before Diggle saw him staring again.
The flight wasn't smooth, but it wasn't his worst either. At one point, when the plane jolted through an air pocket, Felicity began to mumble. Oliver held his breath and strained to listen.
"Mwaghth...too much, Ol..." She sighed deeply. "Yesh, for you...always...oh," she made some sort of humming sound and then said in a rather startling and loud voice, "Crap that wasn't necessary! Oh my god Oliver!"
Diggle snorted awake from his light doze as Felicity sat up and looked around.
"Nice nap?" Oliver asked in what he hoped was a normal voice. He offered a bland face and decided to ignore Felicity's last uttering.
Diggle grunted and stretched what he could. "Are we there yet?"
Felicity smiled broadly. "A little too small for you in here, John?" She was too preoccupied pulling her hair free from the hinges of her glasses to notice Diggle send a stern look toward Oliver.
"Something like that, yeah," he mumbled.
Felicity and John chatted. Oliver listened and when they landed, boarded their commercial flight and were in the air again, Oliver pretended to sleep just so he could hear her some more.
Her voice was soothing to him and he soon began drifting in and out of a light doze. But even Felicity couldn't stop nightmares. Scenes of Mirakuru soldiers, of Team Arrow and the League of Assassins, the decimated police force...his friend-turned-insane-enemy...Laurel and Felicity and throats and swords and guns...
"Oliver, hey man," Diggle called but didn't touch and Oliver's eyes flew open as he almost broke free from the seatbelt.
"Felicity!" he shouted, looking around wildly.
"Hey, it's ok, she's just using the restroom," John replied and nodded toward the back of the plane. "Bad dream?"
Oliver clenched his jaw and fists. He closed his eyes and took several deep breaths.
"What's wrong?" Felicity slid back into her seat between the two men, buckled, and touched Oliver's closed fist. "Oliver? Are you in pain?"
He shock his head but didn't look at her, couldn't look into her bright, concerned eyes.
She pried open his hand and slid her fingers into his, and brought their hands over to rest in her lap. She didn't say anything else.
And he almost let a tear spill from his eyes at her comforting gesture. But he stopped his emotions and focused on the sounds of the crowded flight instead. Anything to ignore how good it felt to hold her hand.
The flight home was very, very long.