"..and the second one is, I love you," Oliver said. That should have made her happy but it only infuriated and saddened her.

Once he left she collapsed into her chair and had to grip the sides to keep from punching her computer screens in frustration. "Great, say you love me right before you head off to get killed, again. You think you're being noble and heroic but you're being a complete and utter moron. The League wants Sara's killer, they already hate Merlyn, problem solved Oliver! Thea will get over Merlyn dying especially when she finds out the truth, you never give her enough credit! I love how you never seem to notice that everyone you protect with your lies has ended up worse off than if you'd just told them the damn truth to begin with," She forced herself to take a deep breath, "And Dig just sits here and let's you go. I know he has a family but he could be back up, go on a different plane. I have no idea what has happened to either of you. We used to work together!" Pain shot up her arm as she hit the top of the table without even realizing it, "Ow! Well I'm not going to abandon you as much as you want us all to. Screw that!" She turned on the tracking device that she had slipped into his bag when he'd turned away from it while packing. "Oliver Queen, if you honestly think I am letting you out of my sight you haven't learned a single thing about me over the last two years. Which is something we are going to have a very extended, loud and in depth conversation about when you get back. Now I just have to make sure you make it back."

As the green beacon blinked on her screen while he rode farther and farther away from her and closer to whatever pain Ra's was going to inflict she wracked her brain for ideas on how to help him. ARGUS wouldn't want to get involved, Roy was an amateur and Barry wouldn't have the first clue on how to deal with the violence that the League could bring. The very short list of Oliver's allies narrowed down to two, she knew they would say yes, as much as they deserved some peace in their lives.

"Call Sam," she told her phone, already feeling guilty for bringing a whole other load of turmoil to the door of the Winchesters.

Sam hadn't gotten a full night's sleep since saving Dean from his demon side, he'd made a point to check in on his brother several times each night. At first things seemed as normal as it got for them, Dean would sleep through the night as well as he could, but then as time went on Sam would find his room empty. The first few times it happened panic raced through him as a myriad of possibilities for what his brother could be doing ran through his mind. Was he out killing? Had he given up? His first thought had been to race to the garage and see if Baby as still there but he usually ended up running into Dean in the kitchen or the archives reading. Dean would blow it off as he wasn't all that tired, he knew the lie of it but allowed Dean to keep up the facade. The last few weeks, after Charlie, things had changed. He found his brother at the underground gun range more and more, shooting round after round into paper targets or training with knives, something they had never done in the past. He was becoming less and less Dean, Sam could see things slowly slip away. The humor, the willingness to fight against all the odds, the confidence he'd always had even if half of it was sheer bluster, it was all being chipped away by the Mark. What worried Sam the most was how the weapons seemed to call to Dean more and more, there was no reason for him to spend hours shooting or stabbing things. He often wondered if he would wake up one night and find Dean standing over him, gun in hand, eyes cold as he pulled the trigger.

He saw Felicity's number pop up on his phone as he made his way to the gun range, Dean wasn't in his room again and Sam heard the muffled echos of Dean's 1911 firing over and over again. "Hi. What's up?"

"Sam.." He sounded exhausted which made her feel worse, "I'm sorry to call so late."

"It's fine, I wasn't asleep. You sound upset, is Oliver okay?"

"No, his sister's father used her to kill his ex-girlfriend to draw attention away from him because of the price on his head thanks to the Undertaking and now Oliver is on his way to go fight the leader of the League of Assassins and say he killed Sara when he didn't so his sister won't lose another father."

"Uh...I think I need a whole pot of coffee before I can comprehend all of that. Think you can break that down, give me names and explain how all of this happened. It sort of sounds like a cross between bad daytime TV and a convuluted comic book plot."

"Sorry, it's a long story."

"How about this," he offered, "Let's start with why you're calling Dean and I about this. It doesn't sound like there's a supernatural threat going on." He turned down the hall and stopped in front of the door to the range. There was only one door in and out so at least he knew where Dean was and that he wouldn't be going anywhere.

She hesitated, "I don't have anyone else to ask for help. I'm so sorry."

He was confused, "What about Dig? Or that new guy we saw the outfit for last time we were in town?"

"I," she sighed and started to explain everything to him, who Thea's father really was, the League and how their lives had all spiraled out of control over the last few months.

He leaned against the wall and slowly sank to the floor in utter amazement as he listened to all the twists and turns their lives had taken recently. "Wow, I thought Dean and I had it rough," he said when she finished. "So let me get this straight, Thea, Oliver's sister, didn't have a clue this whole time? Then her real father turns out to be the guy that wiped out half the Glades and is training her to be a killer but she still hasn't made the connection that Oliver is Arrow?"

"Right."

"So, evil Dad is using his daughter as a pawn to keep himself from getting killed and throwing Oliver to the wolves."

"Yes."

"And neither Oliver or Dig thought the best plan would be just to serve evil Dad up so he pays for what he did?"

"Dig and I did and still do, but Oliver said no."

He shook his head in disbelief, "And Dig just let him go?"

"Yeah."

"What the hell is going on with ya'll? Don't you have tranq arrows or something to knock Oliver the hell out so you can lock him up somewhere while you guys do what's right since he's being an idiot? He'd forgive you after a few days."

She laughed a bitter, tired laugh, "I thought about it, trust me, but the League put us on a deadline and not even Oliver can take Malcolm in a straight fight."

"Then you fight dirty," Sam stated, "So you want Dean and I to somehow rescue Oliver? You are aware Dean is deathly afraid of flying right?" That was hardly the reason he wanted to keep Dean as far away from this as he could but he wasn't all that keen on telling her about the Mark.

"No I didn't know that." Her voice lost the last bit of hope that he'd heard struggling to hold onto throughout their conversation.

He leaned his head against the wall wishing that this had happened before the Mark. It still wouldnn't have been their thing but at least he wouldn't have had to turn her down completely. "Look, things haven't been all that great here. Dean's dealing with some things that have made life a lot more complicated than usual. We're working on it but I am trying to keep him out of fights, they just make it worse. I'm sorry Felicity, we just...well we can't right now."

"Oh, I'm sorry Sam. I didn't know...it's okay." Her voice shook but he could tell she was trying to muster some sort of courage to push her fears back down. "I'll figure something out, thanks anyway. I hope Dean gets better."

"Thanks, and Oliver will make it through. He's tough, you know that." It sounded so hollow, so weak.

"Yeah. Well get some sleep."

"You too, keep in touch." He didn't want her to feel completely alone through this.

"I will. Bye."

She hung up and the door to the gun range opened. He hadn't noticed the sound of bullets flying had stopped.

Dean stood there, the look in his eyes somewhere between desperate and empty but his hand was rock solid, "I heard some of that. Oliver's in trouble?"

"Yeah but it's not our thing and..." he left it hanging.

A hint of the old Dean whispered across his face, "Tell me anyway. Take my mind off of it."

Sam wasn't sure if he was happy that Dean was being more upfront about the Mark's effects on him or not. Part of him wished he could pretend that nothing was wrong. "No, it will just make you want to help and you don't need to be out getting attacked by assassins." More than a hint of bloodlust sharpened Dean's features and caused his hand to twitch towards the gun that was tucked into his jeans. "Dean?"

"I'm fine..." He broke off and looked away and down the hall, "You can tell me or I can just call her back."

"Why are you being stubborn about this? We don't have enough on our plate?" The next words Dean said chilled him to the bone.

"It's getting worse. Crowley kept me on an even keel by sending those Abaddon's groupies for me. He said if I didn't kill I would be taken over by the demon. I know the demon's gone but the Mark still wants me to kill." When Dean's eyes met his again they were filled with fear, "It's trying to take me over just like my demon side did and I don't want it to be you. Why do you think I spend hours down here now? I can't sleep anymore, the urge, the need..."

"These aren't some street thugs, these are trained killers that Oliver's tangling with. You know how good Oliver is in a fight, these guys apparently make him look like an amateur. It's suicide Dean. No, no way. We'll find some vamp or something you can take down if you need to kill to quiet the Mark, not an entire league of assassins." He stood up and started to walk down the hall away from Dean.

"I still owe him," Dean stated, "For helping you after I got dragged to Hell. Helping Flash didn't count towards that."

"Bullshit." Sam snapped over his shoulder as he continued to walk away, "You're reaching for excuses. No." He heard Dean's footsteps behind him then a rough arm propelled him into the wall and he was face to face with the killer that used to be his brother.

"Finding a vamp could take weeks," Dean growled, "I just went through about a hundred rounds of ammo and it didn't help. I don't have weeks Sam. Help me."

He didn't move, Dean's other hand was less than an inch from the grip of his gun. "These are people Dean, we don't kill people." He had to try one more time.

Dean's eyes narrowed, "They are people who kill other people for money. That makes them monsters in my book."

"Look, let's go sit down and I'll tell you everything, promise. Oh, and we'll probably have to fly to get there." That made the killer recede from his brother's eyes and his hands dropped away from the gun and Sam's shoulder.

"Fly? You didn't say that."

Even though the situation really didn't call for it he laughed, "So that's how we get the Mark to shut up? Threaten you with a plane flight?"

Dean shifted his weight and the first grin Sam had seen in weeks tugged at the corners of his mouth, "Nice to know my fear of dying in a fiery plane crash serves some purpose."

He gripped Dean's shoulder and they fell into step as they walked towards the kitchen and coffee. "Silver lining Dean, everything has one."