As she leaned against the wall just outside the door, Felicity was only able to half-listen to the doctor as he spoke--an odd lack of focus she blamed on lack of sleep--as she was assaulted by unwanted images of Slade’s goons brutally attacking the good Detective and landing him in this very terrible condition.
Her mind refused to listen to her commands to ‘shut up’, so she was only half-aware when the doctor walked past her on his way back out of the room. Then Oliver stepped into her field of vision and Felicity was startled back to the present.
She hoped she’d managed to suppress her startled jump this time, but Oliver looked sorry again so she knew she'd failed. Rather than comment on it, he just touched her elbow and motioned towards the exit.
Felicity very nearly started crying again when, as they passed by the open door, she heard a tearful Laurel speaking softly to her father. The words may have been unintelligible, but the grief in them was not.
“Did you hear?” Oliver asked her softly a moment later as they made their way through the halls, retracing that same blue colored line on the wall that had lead them to the Intensive Care Unit.
Felicity shook her head and averted her gaze to her shoes as she folded her arms tightly across her chest. “Not much," she said with a sniffle. “I caught bits and pieces, but…”
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Oliver’s fingers twitch and he rubbed the pads of his thumbs and forefingers together a common tick of his which she wasn’t quite sure how to interpret in that moment.
“He’s past the worst of it," Oliver said. "It’ll be somewhat touch and go for the next forty-eight hours, but if he makes it past that, they’re optimistic he’ll pull through. They’re going to let Laurel stay with him. Special circumstances.”
Felicity nodded, relieved to hear the potentially hopeful prognosis and that Laurel wouldn’t have to leave her father while he was like this. “That’s good,” she said.
It was somewhat happy news--or really just not the worst news they could've gotten--so she wasn’t quite sure herself why it was only after she’d heard it that she couldn’t keep her emotions in check anymore.
It was only later that she realized it wasn’t anything specific that had lead to her breakdown, that it was just… the end of everything.
With another sniffle, Felicity wiped away the first tear, hoping it would somehow remain unseen and that the rest wouldn’t follow, but the dam had already broken. Oliver noticed. How could he not? It was engraved into his instincts to notice things.
Felicity gasped in a breath as she felt her control slipping, and she halted in her step as she removed her glasses with one hand so as to wipe at her eyes with the other unobstructed.
“Hey,” Oliver breathed out as he dropped his jacket on the floor beside them before stepping closer, and his hands were on her arms then, a warm and gentle pressure which exuded comfort.
With her hand still covering her eyes, Felicity shook her head, trying to tell him that she was fine and that she had no idea why she was crying. But, when she tried to speak she could only release a few sobs and sucked in another breath as the last of her composure fell away.
Oliver pulled her close, breaching that carefully constructed bubble of personal space he kept up around himself. His hold was tight and comforting and Felicity was too exhausted to think of any reasons why she should stop him. She just sort of melted into the hug, crying into his shoulder.
She was quite sure she would be appalled thinking back on the incident later, but she didn’t really care. That was Future Felicity’s problem.