Description: Oliver visits Lance at the hospital.

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"Arrow 2x23 - Sara gives Laurel her jacket and they say goodbye"

Starling City; Starling City General Hospital: 4:37am

Oliver knew the risks of war. He'd been in his fair share during the time he was gone, and since he'd been back. He knew, long ago, that these were risks he did not want those he cared about taking. However, the choice had long since been taken from his hands as many of the people he associated himself with on a daily basis were now taking said risks as a one man war to save his city had become a several person war to save their city. It was for one of these confidants who was taking those risks that Oliver found himself entering Starling City General Hospital at nearly five o'clock in the morning after, just returning from seeing Slade to purgatory.

He went to the emergency room front desk; where he figured Officer Lance had been taken. The nurse at the the desk confirmed this, and said that Lance was in surgery. The surgery waiting room was on the third floor. Oliver stepped out of the elevator on the third floor, and quickly found the waiting room. He didn't see anyone in there he recognized so he went to the waiting room desk, "Excuse me, do you have a Quentin Lance, on this floor?"

The nurse who looked up at him, typed on her computer, "…There's a Quentin Lance. Came in about twelve hours ago."

"That's him."

"Room 423. Take the first door on your left, follow the hallway until you see the right room number. It should be on the right."

"Thank you." He followed the directions and came to the room. It was on the other side of the hallway, but Oliver hardly thought about it. The door was cracked. He saw Laurel seated by the bed trying to read a book. He knocked softly.

"Come in," Oliver proceeded at her word. As he walked towards her she saw him and stood.

He walked up to her, with more confidence then he ever thought he'd be able to muster again, and wrapped his arms around her. Before he could say anything, Laurel spoke, "You did it; you saved the city!" Even though her voice was raw from worrying about her father, he could hear how proud of him she was.

For once, Oliver let himself accept the compliment. It… actually felt good. "I had help," he said, significantly. "Thanks for the speech."

"Thank you for helping me shoot a bow and arrow." Laurel said with as much strength as she could likely muster. She sounded tired, very tired.

He smiled mildly, "My pleasure." Oliver looked at the still form of Officer Quentin Lance as he lay unconscious. "How is he?" Oliver asked.

A beat passed before Laurel spoke, "I don't know yet. They just moved him to this room a few minutes ago. He's been in surgery since about," Laurel looked at her watch, "three-thirty, this morning. No one's told me anything yet. They've been really swamped- all the people coming in from the attack." Oliver nodded understandingly. "Someone's suppose to be coming in to tell me what's going on with him," Oliver could hear the quiver of fear- the ache of not knowing what was wrong- in his former lovers voice.

"Thank you for coming." He finally released her and he got a good look at her: her face was haggard and tired, her eyes had large dark circles around them that could be seen through the remainder of her makeup; they were moving constantly.

"What happen?" He asked. Laurel hadn't said much in the text she'd sent him, just that her father was in the hospital in case he wanted to stop by. He'd seen the message on the plane to Lian Yu. He'd kept it to himself until he, Diggle, and Felicity were on their way home.

"One of Slade's men was at the precinct when everything started. He hurt some officers that were there- I don't know what happened to them- and he threw Dad into a desk. I didn't know he was hurt badly until we saw Sara off and he started coughing up blood."

Oliver nodded in recognition of the information. This was his fault; what else was new? Laurel sat down and patted the chair beside her. Oliver sat at the gesture. As they waited in silence Oliver watched her:

Laurel was wringing her shaking hands, always looking over his shoulder toward to door, presumably for news about her father. It had been a long few days for all of them; for all of Starling. "Hey," Oliver put an arm around her shoulders, "it's going to be okay. He's strong. He's been through worse; he's going to pull through."

Laurel looked Oliver in the eyes. "He's been through so much lately," her own resolve was wavering.

Oliver won't have this. "Hey! I'm choosing to believe in your father like he believes in me."

He almost sounded like the Arrow; that's how sure he is of what he's saying, Laurel thought. She thought back to several hours ago, when Oliver had helped her shoot her way out of that cave-in. She took a deep breath, and sat back down. Oliver sat beside her, taking her hand. Laurel was grateful for the support, but wondered if the Arrow shouldn't be doing something more important.

"Do you have somewhere to be right now?" Her voice just now beginning to tremble.

"No," he shook his head. Laurel smiled at him, and squeezed his hand.

-~•~-

They sat in silence for a long time. After a while, they turned on the small TV on the far wall of the room, just to help pass the time. One of those awful daytime soaps was on. You know the kind; love triangle, after pointless love triangle. "I feel like that could be us." Laurel said out of the blue. They had been watching a particular episode where one of the main characters ran off with her boyfriend's brother. "No, it was us!" She almost sounded like she was making fun of it all. Oliver hoped so.

"Hopefully it'll never be us again." He ached for that. He looked at Laurel, who looked back at him, and smiled. They turned their attention back to the TV.

As he sat beside her, his arm around Laurel's shoulders, he thought about all she'd been through recently: her sister returning from the dead, her father's current injury, Sara leaving again, losing her job, getting a new job- which was about to get much harder without a mayoral office- her bout with substance abuse due at least in part (Oliver had realized) to what he'd put her through, losing Tommy, and having to hold to together to keep her father from going off the deep end losing him and her sister, finding out why Sara had been on the boat. She'd suffered enough trauma for ten people, yet here she sat beside him. Not only alive, but getting better. He felt like he was seated beside a miracle. One he knew he would never have. There was no amount of repentance for what he'd done that could ever mend the bridge burned between them- it shouldn't be mended, he thought. She deserved someone much better than him, someone that values her as much as she deserves, and never hurts her like her did. Someone better.

"You know," she began, "I felt selfish sending you that text."

Oliver was surprised. "What? Why?"

"Because… because I felt like needed you. But I didn't want to take you away from whatever important thing you needed to do."

"Look at me," Laurel looked him in the eyes, "Right now, the most important thing I need to be doing is being there for you. Whenever you need me, I'm there. No matter what else is going on- you hear me!"

"Thank you…." She leaned back in her seat. Oliver put his arm behind her head. She leaned over onto his chest somewhat.

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