Parallel

[madimpossibledreamer]

I find the "a romance would cheapen their relationship" sort of lines extremely confusing, because they make no sense unless you think a man's romantic relationship with a man somehow lesser oh wait it's probably homophobia
on a different note I am sick and tired of being told I don't need to wear my mask, I'm overreacting, it's fine, social distancing is a joke DEATH IS NEVER A JOKE TAKE IT SERIOUSLY PEOPLE tomorrow's going to be a pain.

Main Points:
Arrow/Assassin's Creed; First Person used (Ollie POV)
Summary: Tommy tries to keep Ollie at home and occupied.  (not related to current events, as this was written a year ago, but I still hope you enjoy.)  Follows up immediately after A Wounded Assassin.
Word Count: 964
Rating: Teen
surprise! it's more italian

          “A cappuccino for my cappuccio,” Tommy holds out a cup, smiling, and I groan.
          “That,” I inform him flatly, “…was terrible, and there’s something very wrong with you.”
          “What do you think of alternate universes, freccia?” he asks, and he’s still being ridiculous, but there’s something wistful in his tone that actually makes me think.
          It’s a distraction, one meant to keep me from sneaking out, but it’s a good plan.  Then again, Tommy’s good at those.
          “According to Barry, they exist.  Which he probably found out via someone using a Piece of Eden.”  I yawn.  I’d worry about him drugging me for my own good except for the fact that he just handed me coffee, and if I didn’t know it was because I was comfortable.  Usually I had this restless energy.  I had to be doing something, moving.  Weakness could get me killed.  Doing nothing could get me killed.  Even with Tommy, before, I sometimes had to get up in the middle of the night because the bed was too comfortable or no one would be there to watch our backs if I was too tangled up in him.  Now I knew he could fight—at least a little—and having someone to watch my back plus his and my family’s work to socialize me again had me curling up in the blankets and warmth that smelled like him, content for the moment to just lie there.
          He makes a face. “I hate those things.”
I shake my head.  I know the way he’s staring at me out of the corner of his eyes means that he’s worried about shock, again, because I’m not being twitchy, but we’re fine.  “They’re not the problem.  We don’t know about the side effects, true, but if we could study them—the Shroud supposedly could heal people.  Imagine the good we could do.  But there’s no way that’s going to work while the Templars and Assassins are still at each other’s throats, and, I suspect, the side effects might not be worth it.  When the most basic of the Pieces of Eden mostly does mind control…”
          I grimace, and fidget, and il mio amore relaxes, minutely.
          “We don’t get to hang out enough, and you can take care of yourself and me,” I add, and Tommy relaxes fully, even as he gives me a disturbed stare.
          “I hate it when you do that, too,” he insists, before kissing my hand absently.  “Though I’m glad I’m not having to continually chase you back to bed, like a cat escapee from a travel carrier.”  His mind’s elsewhere, though.  His remark about the alternate dimension thing was a little too casual…
          I sit up abruptly and wince as it pulls at my shoulder.  “Is there something you’re not telling me?”  My mind’s racing—of course I wouldn’t get to just relax, of course something would come up, my luck’s not that good…
          “Calmati,” Tommy commands, pushing me down, gentle but firm.  “Nothing like that.  Felicity and I were just watching Doctor Who.”
          If not for the two of them, I probably wouldn’t be able to guess which episode he’s referring to.  It used to be I hated any sort of background noise, found it distracting, but in certain cases when I was down there—say, just practicing—I’d grown used to it.
          “When I was asleep?” I wonder, and he nods.  That’s also a sign of how far I’ve come—they probably had to have been doing it on a laptop, with Tommy in arm’s reach, and I hadn’t stirred.  Admittedly, I’m still a light sleeper, so I really must have pushed myself too far with the jumps and grabs with a wounded arm.
          “Do you think we’re together, in other worlds?”  I pull him closer to me, unsure of what got him to feel so insecure but I definitely need to fix it.
          “Some of them,” I admit, and feel my hands clench as an idea occurs to me.  “Some of them, Malcolm probably got you killed.”
          He looks as stricken as I feel, but it’s not worth thinking about that.
          “You think you’re dating Felicity in any of those?” he asks quietly, and…
          Yeah, he’s probably noticed the attraction there, but here, in this world, that’s all it is.  Also, he doesn’t hide the fact that he’s attracted to her, too.
          I write how much I love him, in Arabic, in Italian—with my fingers on his side.  “Probably.  Who knows, there might be worlds where we’re a threesome taking Starling City by storm.”
          From the smile, he likes that idea.  “And here, she’s our best friend and keeps us in line.”
          “It doesn’t work here, no,” I agree.  Circumstances are wrong.  “But I’m happy she’s here.”
          “There’s probably worlds where you’re dating Laurel, or Sara.  Worlds where you didn’t even end up on the island…” he states, and he sounds so lost.
          “Mio caro, qui ti amo,” I insist—is this what it feels like when I end up Bleeding around my loved ones?  Come back to me.
          He shakes it off and looks at me and smiles.  “Well, if she can make the other yous happy, I’m happy for them, but here, you’re mine.”
          “Same for you and Laurel or Felicity or anyone else, elsewhere.”  I match his smile.
          “If we can figure out how, I want to send them cards.  Say I approve or something.”  Tommy is ridiculous.
          “I’ll help,” I sigh, amused but resigned to another one of his projects.  “And you know Felicity will be on board, and she’s more likely to pull it off than either of us.”
          It’s definitely a distraction, but it was also definitely bothering him.  Now he’s humming what I’m sure is a show tune and planning.