A/N: Pure speculation, a scene that wouldn't leave me alone. "Missing scene" from 3x09.

"I'm ready."

"Good. Meet me at the docks in twenty minutes."

He ended the call curtly after that. He didn't need twenty minutes, and hence ended up waiting at the docks, standing by to receive more information. He took a brief moment to grieve for himself, for what would likely be the end of his life. The people he was leaving behind, the people that he loved, would hurt, but this was for the greater good. Better for him to die than Thea, or an entire city. At least he would die with no more regrets. He had finally told her, clearly and without ambiguity, how he felt. He hoped it would give her some comfort when she grieved for him. That she could hold onto that, that it would soothe her heart. That she would be able to close that chapter of her life with dignity and move on, find happiness.

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, letting the cold air clear the melancholy from his mind. He heard very light footsteps approaching him and tensed up, ready for anything. The steps slowed to a stop a couple of yards behind him, and he waited.

"I have a plan."

The side of Oliver's mouth twitched in both amusement and contempt. "Of course you do." He turned to face him, his face stony with anger as he looked upon his nemesis, the father of his sister and late best friend. As he listened to Merlyn's plan, his brows drew together in confusion and disbelief.

He shook his head. "I thought those were fairy tales."

"Oh, I assure you, they're very real."

Oliver frowned as he listened further, and a very strange feeling overcame him. It was equal parts sick, twisted dread that knotted up his stomach, and a faint, tentative hope that bloomed in his heart. If what Merlyn was saying was true, then he might actually have a chance to take down Ra's Al Ghul.

He narrowed his eyes in suspicion. "How do I know you're not playing me? What's your long game in this?"

"This is my long game, Oliver."

"I don't believe you."

"Then don't. My motivations don't concern you. You just have to execute."

"Why not stop at letting him kill me? Thea's blood debt will be cleared, and I can go home."

"Think, Oliver," Merlyn spat, getting in his face. "What do you think the League will do when they discover that you're alive? Who do you think they'll come after? And what do you think I will do then?"

Oliver clenched his jaw, getting even closer in Merlyn's face, inches away from his nose. "You would really turn your own daughter over to the League, after all this? Are you that much of a narcissist that you would throw everyone you love at the altar of your own survival?"

"I don't have to!"

A muscle in Oliver's jaw ticked as he glared in silence.

"Because you're going to do as I say," Merlyn continued. "Or I will leave you to die at Ra's' hand."

"Maybe that's what I want. Thea will still be protected."

Merlyn huffed in contempt. "You don't want that, Oliver. I know that, and you know that."

"And you know me so well?"

"Yes," Merlyn said simply. He took a step forward and spoke into his ear. "Because you're a survivor. Just like me." He backed up and smirked at him before walking away.

Oliver clenched his fists. How dare he. Who was he to say who Oliver was? That may have been true about him three years ago, but he was different now. He was different because of the people in his life, because he loved, something Merlyn was incapable of doing. But, damn it, if there was a chance to get out of this alive, if there was even a remote possibility that he could come back from this, to live, he was going to take it.

Because he finally had something to live for.