She's known about his double identity for a while now.

Ever since Oliver Queen came running into her ER with Laurel Lance in his arms, her blood all over him, she's known his secret. Dr. Schwartz takes pride in treating every patient the same, respecting their privacy and confidentiality. He's no different; he deserves to be treated like everyone else.

That's probably why Oliver Queen trusted her enough to make her his primary physician when he became Mayor. She already knew his secret and she'd kept it, never letting anyone know what she knew to be true; that the Mayor of Star City is also the Green Arrow.

They've never really talked about it out loud, Oliver choosing to ignore the fact that she knows. Respecting his privacy means she only read his medical file when she was officially made his physician, not when she first found out, that would be breaking his confidentiality. When she had read it she was appalled by what was in it.

The first physical examination she performed on him he'd been wary and unsure, gauging her reaction to his scars, marring his skin, telling her a story he refused to talk about. Oliver was in good physical shape, blood pressure perfect, cholesterol levels low, but he had fresh scars, recently inflicted. They'd shared a few looks, until she finally asked who'd sutured the cut on his arm.

She should have known he had friends who took care of his wounds. When she asked about the scar by his left collarbone, he'd told her with as few words as possible, about Diggle's military training, about storing Oliver's blood for a rainy day, and field surgery in the bunker. Schwartz tried not react to his revelation, to the fact that he was damned lucky to be alive. She had a feeling he'd been through worse. The fact that Diggle had medical supplies was most likely a step up from what Oliver had experienced during the five years he'd been missing.

Medical files are filled with words made to convey objective findings that any doctor can interpret. You can fill in what's behind the words, the descriptions. The entry in Oliver Queen's file made by Dr. Lamb tells her Oliver was probably suffering from post-traumatic stress disorder when he returned from Lian Yu. He'd exhibited clear signs of hyper-vigilance, sometimes withdrawn and unresponsive, zoning out, startled by touch. During night he'd spent in the hospital he'd been plagued nightmares.

Dr. Lamb had recommended medication, Oliver had refused.

Dr. Schwartz can still see signs of Oliver's struggles, both recent and old. He's lost so many close to him, experienced so much darkness and pain, it's a miracle he's still functioning. She's pretty sure it has something to do with the two people who seem to be closest to him. Felicity Smoak and John Diggle are always somehow close by.

Felicity is the one who schedules an appointment for him because he's still headachy and dizzy from a concussion. Schwartz had forced him to rest the night his limousine had been attacked, trying to make him see that he needs to slow down.

Oliver sits down on the examination table with a sigh. He looks rumpled, his hair is messy, there's a smudge on his tie from a meal eaten by his desk.

"So, how are things?" She decides to go for an open question, hoping he will be honest.

Oliver's usually an expert in denying anything being wrong. She suspects he's not doing it to be difficult; he's just too used to being in a state of pain and discomfort.

"Felicity worries too much. It's just a headache and then I got a little dizzy for a moment. I'm fine, everything's fine." He bows his head, covering his face with his hands, pushing his palms against his eyes, as if he's trying to get rid of the headache by force.

"How much sleep are you getting?" The slump of his frame tells her more than his words. His tense shoulders tell her a tale of hyper-vigilance and adrenaline, maybe even flashbacks to things he wants to forget.

"Oh, I'm not sure, probably not enough, but I'm fine," he removes his hands to look up at her. His face pale and his eyes red, his smile is sad and not like the one he uses to try and charm his way out of her office.

"Probably not, and that might be the only problem, but let me have a look at you first, before I tell you to go home and sleep." She smiles at his sour expression, as he removes his jacket and loosens his tie.

She leads him though a quick neurological examination, before checking his blood pressure. When she turns down the light in the room to check his pupils reaction to light she can tell he feels sick.

"Ow, uh…don't." He pushes her hand away shutting his eyes tight against the light.

"You're still concussed Oliver, that's' why you feel dizzy and your head is bothering you." Schwartz tries not to sound like she's reprimanding him. He doesn't need that from her. She gets the light out of his face and puts a hand on his shoulder to steady him as he sways a bit.

"Yeah, probably…"

"Let Felicity take you home, get some sleep. I could prescribe you something to help you relax if you need it."

Oliver shakes his head no as an answer, buttons his shirt back up, puts the tie in the pocket of his jacket.

"I'll get some sleep, promise." He looks at her with pain-lines on his face as she turns the lights in the room back on.

Felicity stands to greet Oliver the second the office door opens. She looks at Oliver for a few moments, before turning her eyes on schwartz.

"Get him home, let him sleep, he'll be okay."

Oliver smiles at Felicity. His arm circles around her shoulder, drawing her against him in a sideways hug.

Schwartz can't hear what Oliver tells her as they leave, but she hopes Felicity makes him rest and recover.