Oliver didn't understand this place. Relaxing had never come easily to him, he'd had to work his way into it and learn how again. But when he'd gotten there, he'd found that the idea and allure of a simpler life, it appealed. It settled him. It was an alien thing he'd never thought he'd want as a dumb kid running from mistake to mistake, but it was simple and bright and he could breathe easier than he had since he'd first come home and put on the hood.
But when it was gone, that brief period felt like an interlude, a brief mix in the reality of his life. Oliver had made choices and done things that meant a quiet life wasn't what he was meant for, or should have. The fight and fear and struggle - doing some good with the skills he had. That was where he was meant to be, no matter how much he'd loved that little brief slice of something else he and Felicity had.
This place felt just as unreal, but not in the same way. That had been an attractive illusion for him - mind numbing boredom for Felicity and just life for most people. This was some other world (or at least some other time or place), with monsters wandering around outside, where the dead could come back to life and no one seemed to question why they were here, or how to go back anymore. Felicity didn't want to, Sara, Barry. Oliver knew what they were saying, understood the principle of them having been there a while and that changing their outlook.
But it just couldn't make sense to him, and he couldn't let down. So he'd been stretched on a wire since he got there, too-awake and too-aware and trying not to let on. He'd cooked for Felicity a few times, gone for food. He'd cased the shape and layout of the city a few dozen times. The network and tech at least was familiar - Oliver was no expert, but he'd been around Felicity a while now. He could recognize her work and how she liked to arrange things.
He'd seen Nyssa the second day, and it had been ... surreal. She was relaxed (by Nyssa's standards), waiting for Sara outside in sunlight, dressed almost like a regular person. He'd seen Sara and watched Felicity be swooped off by a flying girl and nothing made any sense, even less than things usually made sense if John Constantine and magic were involved.
Oliver hated it, because if he could just step back and take it as it was, he'd have liked it. There wasn't a lot left to home right now, after all. But he couldn't, and he hated it and tried not to show it. He was aware that wasn't his gift.
He'd gone out for yet another sweep of the city, was dressed in civilian clothes that he'd gotten here, but had his gear with him, just in case. He managed to keep himself from going in via rooftops and just using the door like everyone else. But he stopped on the steps outside the building, seeing a familiar blond head, tipped back against the wall, face crumpled with tears.
There weren't a lot of things in the world Oliver hated seeing more than Felicity crying. And he'd seen it a lot lately - most of it his fault, one way or another. Oliver stepped in closer, hovering for a second and then crouching down in front of her. "Felicity?" he said quietly.