Disclaimer: I don't own Arrow and intend no copyright infringement.

We fight back!

Well roared, lion. And his belligerent attitude had surely made Diggle and Felicity feel better.

Oliver himself, however, was still feeling lost and desperate. He had meant what he had said: Wrong decisions all along the road – Roy, the company, Thea… And these were only the most recent ones.

If he, six years ago, had been the son his parents had wanted and deserved he wouldn't have boarded the Queen's Gambit. His father wouldn't have shot himself to protect him, his mother would have had someone by her side to support her against Malcolm Merlyn, Thea wouldn't have been so alone in that giant house. Laurel and Sara would have lived normal lives, Detective Lance wouldn't have hit the bottle…

And what about Diggle and Felicity?

Diggle would be a bodyguard with regular work hours, babysitting rich kids, and Felicity an IT girl rolling her eyes about her incompetent supervisor.

And that would be it.

No encounters with syringe wielding drug lords, claw wearing mercenaries, earthquake machine building mad men.

It was all his fault.

Oliver was so lost in thought, he didn't see the car coming that suddenly raced out of a side street. It hit him straight on.

His world turned black.

… … …

Cursing silently, Oliver picked up the pieces of the vase he had accidentally knocked over while climbing in through the window. Great, just great, it was the green one from that castle in Austria. His mother would KILL him. Not to mention the noise he had produced. Maybe they hadn't heard him? Granted, him climbing up the rain water downpipe hadn't exactly been ninja stalking style silently, but it was a big house and if they were already gathered in the dining room…

"Dad? Dad? Are you here?"

The door flew open and running in came Salomon, jumping into his arms with an enthusiasm that only three year olds can muster at the sight of a parent.

"Was that the green vase from the Austrian castle? The one dad gave mom for their last wedding anniversary? She'll kill you." Thea came walking in, a lot less enthusiastic about his appearance than her nephew.

"I'm just a few minutes late, there's really no reason to pick on me." Oliver put his son down.

"You come climbing in through A WINDOW like some comic book vigilante, you're THIRTY MINUTES late for a dinner that mom has been talking about for weeks and you're REEKING…" Thea stopped herself. "Sal, honey, why don't you tell grandma that your dad has finally decided to grace us with his presence?"

Sal could sense the tension in the air and refrained from asking what "to grace" meant. He quickly disappeared downstairs.

"REEKING of another woman's perfume. I really don't get you, Oliver. You fought mom tooth and nail so you could marry a short-skirted low level QC employee and now you cheat on her. Who was it tonight, Laurel or Sara?"

"This is really none of your business, Thea", Oliver snapped at his sister.

"At least have the decency to change your shirt!"

Ten minutes later Oliver had finally made it downstairs. His mother was in a state way too agitated for a simple family dinner. Yeah, she had indeed talked about it for weeks and insisted they all attended, but the way she hugged him and told him how glad she was that he had made it was definitely over the top. What was going on with her?

"Where's your wife?", she asked as she finally let go of him.

Ooops…

"Oliver, you haven't forgotten to tell your wife about tonight's dinner?" His mother's voice took on a panicky note.

"She's in the Glades, teaching that computer course for underprivileged children… sorry, it really slipped my mind…", Oliver shrugged. It really wasn't his fault that his mother still, two years after the wedding, chose to avoid talking to his wife whenever she could although they lived under the same roof. "Guess we have to eat without her."

Only then he noticed that within seconds his mother's face had lost all color.

"SHE'S IN THE GLADES? IN THE GLADES? CALL HER! YOU'VE GOT TO CALL HER! TELL HER TO COME HERE! NOW!"

She was screaming at him at the top of her lungs, so loud that even Oliver realized something was very wrong.

"Mom. Calm down. What's going on?"

"SHE'S NOT SAFE THERE!" Moira Queen was still screaming.

"Oh don't worry about that. Mr. Diggle is accompanying her. What is this all about?"

His mother collapsed onto the nearest chair. And then she told them what this was all about. Malcolm Merlyn. The Undertaking. An artificial earthquake. She had tried to keep her family safe by insisting on that dinner.

Of course Oliver had his wife on speed dial. She picked up at the third ring. "You've got to come home – NOW!", he shouted at her.

"Oliver, you know very well how important…"

A horrible noise, like a roll of thunder, drowned out her voice.

"FELICITY? FELICITY!"

The connection had gone dead.

Darkness.

… … ….

"Oliver? Oliver…"

His eyes slowly fluttered open to the artificial light of a hospital room. Luckily he hadn't worn his Arrow outfit when the car had hit him. No nosy questions.

"Thank God you're alive. The doctors said your injuries were relatively minor, you must have managed to somehow roll over the car's hood, that somehow cushioned the impact… was that two somehows in one sentence? Oh God, you really scared us, I mean you scare us a lot and especially lately but this time…"

Her face was hovering above his, surrounded by the room's lighting like a gloriole. Pulling all remains of strength he could muster together he sat up, wrapped his arms around her and covered her face with kisses.

"Felicity…", he breathed.