Author's Note: Thanks to Lady Lemons, Liana, batgirl2992, Nienna Tinehtele, audie gayle, bug813, BohoRoohaha, and Derry for reviewing! I'm glad you all like it. Now I still don't fully understand where this story is going, but I am certain that the relationship will not change between Mia and Oliver. It's still the Clark/Kara relationship that we should have had for more seasons than one. Sorry to disappoint some of you, but as Derry said, "There should be at least one girl in Oliver's life that he's not romantically interested in." I totally agree. Actually, I think all of the women were part of the problem.

But anyways, read, hopefully enjoy, and review!


Chapter Two:

Revelation

He wasn't feeling, was only slightly aware. He stared off at a point in the distance blankly until Chloe gave an unnecessary tug on the vicryl fiber she was threading through his shoulder.

"Ow," he said in a monotone voice, turning to look at her.

"Can you please blink once in a while so I know you're still alive," she sighed, eyes squinting at the wound she was sewing shut.

"I'm fine," he answered, finding his spot off in the distance again.

"Ollie…" she ventured.

"She almost died," he said suddenly, anger lingering in his voice, "Because of my screw ups. My past. My fault."

Chloe finished the stitch with a knot and set down the needle on the metal tray next to her. Opening a single package of butterfly bandages, she tugged his head down. "She's a hell of a fighter, Oliver." Her hands were suddenly on his face, pulling together the split skin on the left side of his forehead.

He sighed deeply, closing his eyes. "I can't believe they came after me again. I thought if I handled Vordigan, that that would be that. That I would be finished." His eyes hardened and he growled slightly, "I should have known it wasn't going to be that simple."

Chloe finished with his forehead and tapped his arms. He lifted them and flinched as she started wrapping his bruised ribs with tape. "You couldn't have seen this coming, Oliver. No one could have."

He looked to the floor, battling with the question that was swimming around in his head. He was afraid of the answer, because honestly, Mia was the only family he had left. So he swallowed back the dread and looked to his blond friend, locking with her eyes. "Tell me the truth," he said as seriously as he could. "How lucky were we?"

Chloe's shoulders slumped and for the first time since he had woken up, she looked totally exhausted. "At first," she paused and swallowed furiously, "I didn't think…" she diverted her eyes for a moment before shaking her head and blinking rapidly. "It didn't look good," she said, composing herself. "The knife was deep. Taking it out was as big a risk as keeping it in. She'd lost a lot of blood. More than you. Thankfully Emil knew exactly what to do. He saved her."

Oliver smiled. "I should pay him more."

Chloe grinned softly, relief flooding her face. "She's weak, Oliver. But she'll pull through."

"Good," he replied, swallowing back the lump in his throat that was threatening to suffocate him. "She's going to have to do my laundry for a week to get those blood stains out."

Chloe's persona shifted in the blink of an eye. She was suddenly serious. "I have to tell you something," she said cautiously.

Oliver waited for her to continue, but she didn't. He raised an eyebrow, "Chloe, what is it?"

She was looking at him funny and it was starting to freak him out. Finally, she sighed and said, "I ran Mia's blood type so we could hook her up to an IV and get more blood into her system." She paused and the words that left her mouth next froze his world, "She's HIV-positive, Ollie."

He stared at her, wondering if he had understood the worlds correctly. "Wh-what?" he stammered.

"I noticed a deficiency in her T cell count when I ran her blood," she explained. When he didn't reply, she placed a soft hand on his arm, eyebrows furrowed in concern. "I put her name through the database at Metropolis General and found a file on her. I'm guessing it's an unwanted legacy from her…past life."

He swallowed. "She…never told me," he managed through his blank mind.

Chloe was still rubbing his arm. "You might want to get yourself tested," she said softly.

He jerked his head up and stared at her, eyes furious. "I haven't slept with her, Chloe. Jesus, what kind of person do you think I am?"

"No, no. I didn't mean it like that," she corrected quickly, suddenly realizing what her statement had sounded like. "I just know that you two train together. If she ever cut herself and her blood got…" she shook her head, "God, Ollie, I would never assume that you slept with her. She's like a sister to you."

He ran his good hand over his face. "Where is she?"

Chloe handed him a shirt and he slipped it on, letting her pull his limp arm through the arm hole. "Down on the couch," she nodded over the railing. "We moved all the equipment down there because we couldn't move her far. Besides," she forced a soft smile, "the couch is more comfortable than that stupid metal table."

He slid off the table gingerly, his bare feet landing on the cold floor. "I'm gonna go and…" he trailed off, sighing.

Chloe nodded in understanding. "I'll go find Emil; maybe we can get a print off that knife."

Oliver nodded and grabbed a sling on the table next to them. He shrugged it one, flashed Chloe and smile mixed with a grimace and made his way towards the stairs. He would be there when Mia woke up. He owed her that much.

And she owed him an explanation.

- sasasa -

A burning, hollow ache had formed in her stomach. Her fingers clenched. With every slight breath that she took, it was pure agony.

She turned her head to the side, feeling the muscles in her neck straining. Lying still, she watched the blurred outline of a figure next to her gradually resolve itself into Oliver Queen. He was lounging in a chair, his right handed folded gently over hers. His other arm was in a sling and there was a book open in his lap. He was staring intently at the pages, his eyes skimming.

She swallowed, which was almost as difficult as taking a breath, something that shouldn't hurt at all. Her breathing was heavy, but she licked her dry lips and said as flatly as she could, "You look like hell, Oliver."

His head snapped up, eyes wide. She hadn't meant to scare him and her chest constricted at the fear that was staring back at her. She didn't know what to say to make the guilt in his eyes vanish. Instead of talking, because even if she did know what to say with her fogged up mind, she doubted it would be reassuring very in her present state, she squeezed his hand.

He settled back in his chair, composing himself. He watched her watch him. It was terrifying, seeing her so weak. Breathing seemed hard for her and she couldn't keep her eyes open for a long period of time without blinking constantly. Her stomach was heavily bandaged and where her shirt had ridden up in sleep he could see a patch of red.

"How you holdin' up, kid?" he asked when he was able to find his voice.

"Well I didn't die," she answered flatly, "So I really can't complain."

He nodded in understanding, but her words struck him like a physical blow to the gut. She had almost died. She'd almost bled out on the floor of Watchtower. Like that floor needs more blood on it, he thought grimly to himself. Clearing his throat, he found her eyes, "Look, Mia," he started in a soft voice, "I'm not good at this. There are things you don't know about me. Things that are dangerous. Things that I don't want you to get involved in. And this—this Brotherhood of Archer Assassins was a time in my past that I am not proud of. If I had been smarter back then, then this," he looked down, "then this wouldn't have happened."

She listened to him try an apology. "You're right," she said after moments of watching him squirm in his own guilt, "This is your fault." Her lips twisted into a smile when his mouth fell open slightly. "But I'm over that. Now I'm just wondering what our plan of attack is."

"Our?" He raised an eyebrow. "Plan of attack? Look, you can hardly stand, let alone attack something." Her nonchalants about the whole ordeal floored him.

"If this is where you try to get me to leave you, save your breath." Her eyes burned with defiance. "You tried that last time, remember? It didn't work."

"Mia, are you deaf? Have you missed everything I've just said? You got hurt because of me. You got a knife in your gut because of me."

"No," she said without waver. "It was because I wasn't fast enough. Strong enough. If we broke apart now then I never will be."

He sighed at her stubbornness. "But it's this hole I'm in, Mia. I fell, hit bottom, it shattered, and I fell some more." He shook his head sadly, "I don't want you to get dragged down with me."

"You think you hit bottom, Oliver?" she whispered, her voice so small he had to strain to hear her. "You have no idea how far this goes."

Suddenly he realized why he was down there. It wasn't to get in an arguing match with her, it was to get answers. "I'm sorry," he apologized, "I didn't come down here to ambush you while you're down. I'm just a little sore that you got blood all over my favorite t-shirt." His words did what he hoped they'd do. Though he hated baiting her like that, it was the only way to settle their little problem diplomatically.

As the word blood hit the air, Mia's eyes widened ever so slightly. She tried to play it casually, but failed in her attempt to sit up straighter. She let out a hiss from between her clenched teeth and sent a hand to her stomach. It was then that she noticed the IV in the back of her hand and the tube supplying her with blood in the crook of her left arm.

She slumped back into the couch, resting her head on the arm. "I have to tell you something, Oliver."

"Okay," he said. "Shoot."

She licked her lips, a nervous habit she had picked up and glanced briefly to him. "I'm HIV-positive, Ollie." She didn't want to be the cause of his heart attack, but she needed him to know that he had to bleach his clothes. And the Aston Martin's leather. Which was why she had been so adamant about her blood getting on it. But no-o, he hadn't listened.

Which her secret out, she didn't want to look to Oliver. She knew he was going to kill her for not telling him sooner. But imagine her surprise when she finally mustered up the courage to look up and found him just as relaxed as he had been seconds before. "Why aren't you freaking out?" she asked, confused.

"I know," he said simply. She was still looking at him weird, so he sighed and continued. "I just want to know why you didn't tell me sooner."

"Because I know what you would have said," she answered, voice firm. "You would have said the same thing the doctors told me. That I should take it easy."

"They're right."

"I don't care if they are," she said, frustrated. "I'm sick and tired of having people tell me how to live my life. Rick. My doctor." She paused and looked towards the floor, "When you didn't know, you let me be whoever I wanted to be. I wasn't HIV girl. I was Mia Dearden, apprentice of Oliver Queen." She shook her head sadly, "I don't want that to change just because you know."

He studied her, saw how much she wanted to be there. How much he meant to her. Finally, he sighed and leaned towards her. "It won't change, Mia. I promise. We're just going to have to take it easy for a couple of weeks."

"But I'm fine," she protested.

"Whatever you say, champ," he smiled. "But I'm sore as hell. So the break isn't for your sake."

"You're getting to old for this, grandpa," she teased.

He sat back in his chair and tilted his head back. Rotating his shoulder gently, he let out a groan. "I'm certainly getting there."

She shifted and sent a hand to her stomach again. Letting a slow breath through her teeth, she watched as Oliver watched her. He looked relaxed, but she could see the worry in his eyes. "Can I ask you something?" she said after finding a semi-bearable position.

"Go ahead."

"Why did you leave?" she was certainly curious about it but confusing flashed in his eyes. "The secret Brotherhood of Archer Assassins thing," she clarified. "If that one guy was any insight to how badass they are, then they kind of seem like your cup of tea. He moved like you, fought like you."

Oliver clenched his teeth and tapped a finger on the arm rest of his chair. There was an angry half in his mind that told him it was none of her damn business. The other, more reasonable half told him that he knew her secret, and it was time to trade information.

Sighing, he said, "It's called the Brotherhood of Sion and they offered me a path when I desperately needed one."

"After your parent's deaths," Mia whispered. "I heard about the plan crash on the news."

He nodded. "I was lost in more ways than one after they were taken from me. I needed someone to show me how to continue. I was pissed off at the world, rebellious, thick headed and out of my mind with grief. The Brotherhood offered me purpose." He swallowed and ran his hand through his hair. "You see, when I first started, I was at the lowest level of the Brotherhood. I had to work my way up the tower. Vordigan took me under his wing and taught me how to really use a bow. Taught me the ropes. He was a great teacher."

"Yeah," Mia said slowly, "He seemed like a really cool guy."

"I was chosen as his successor, but I had an initiation to pass first."

"I doubt it was seeing who could down the most shots," Mia joked with a snort.

His eyes flashed dangerously. "Mia," he snapped. Her flinch broke his anger and he sighed, wrapping a rope around the beast within him. "There was a man who was a threat to the Brotherhood. He had to be terminated." Oliver sat forward and took his face into his hand. "I was stupid, so stupid. I thought I had finally found a place where I belonged and I wasn't going to let anything threaten that."

Mia opened her mouth to say something, but every word that flashed through her mind seemed stupid. It was safe to say she wasn't expecting this.

"You want to know the scariest part?" He looked to her, the guilt in his eyes enough to fill a swimming pool. "When I killed that man, I didn't care. The only thing I knew about him was that he was a threat to my happiness. Back then, that was enough."

Mia looked down and messed with the IV in the back of her hand. "It would have been enough for me too," she whispered. "I would do anything to protect what I have here." He could say that their two situations were different. That she didn't know what it felt like. But he was wrong. After she left her abusive father, she found Rick. It was shit what he did to her, but she finally had people who knew her. People that, if she never came back one night, would notice that she was gone. It was a screwed up family, but a family none the less.

"I watched from a distance as he died on the front steps of his own home. I actually felt proud of myself. I had protected my family," he sighed, his eyes distant. "But when his little boy walked out and tried to shake his father awake, something inside of me broke. In that moment I realized I had become a hypocrite. I had taken a father from a son, the same thing I had cursed God of doing to me. That little boy was going to grow up without his father because of me."

Mia swallowed back the lump in her throat and nodded.

"So I left, disgusted with myself. I figured I had balanced my Oliver Queen life with my Green Arrow life rather well, so why not add another? But the Dark Archer in me stayed in Ireland where I left it." He sighed and sat back in the chair, utterly exhausted. "Until about three weeks ago."

"But why come after you?"

"I took vows when I entered the Brotherhood, Mia. I swore off lovers, allies, and disciples." He shrugged. "I broke all of those."

"I was about to say," she was serious, except for the little glint in his eyes that seemed to laugh at him. "That doesn't sound like you at all."

"Ha. Very funny," he smiled. "I'm glad to see that your near death experience hasn't taken your sarcasm."

It was in that moment that Emil and Chloe entered, the former carried a silver briefcase. Chloe strode straight to a computer and started type while Emil settled near Mia.

"What's in the briefcase, Doc?" The teen asked, shifting her position again.

"More blood for you, Miss Dearden," Emil answered, pulling out a bag full of the red liquid. "And also some antiviral drugs for you…condition."

"Wonderful," Mia said unenthusiastically, groaning and rolling her eyes.

"They'll help," Oliver consoled, sitting forward.

"I know they will. It's just," she scrunched her face up when Emil pulled out a syringe. "I'm not the biggest fans of needles."

Oliver chuckled and held her hand while Emil placed the tip of the needle in the crook of her left arm. The doctor pushed down the plunger and in a matter of seconds, the syringe was empty and Mia was flinching. She sat back against the couch, slumping into the cushions. "That stuff makes my head all jumbled," she complained.

"Just one more favor," Emil said while pulling out more gauze and sterol bandages. "I'm going to need to look at your stomach, see if it's healing properly. Because you're HIV-positive, you're more vulnerable to infection."

Mia lifted up her shirt, flinching. "Tell me something I don't know."

"I got a match on your knife," Chloe called and flashed a clear plastic bag with the still bloodied knife in it.

Mia made a face. "Please keep that thing over there. I'm not ready for a reunion yet."

Olive got to his feet and made his way towards the blond hacker. "Who is it?"

Chloe pressed some keys and a full bio appeared on the screen. "Your Archer Assassin is Nathan Drake," she filled in and then scrunched her eyes up in confusion. "But that doesn't make any sense."

"What doesn't?" Oliver asked. He studied the photo of the young man. He was in his early to middle twenties with black hair and even darker eyes. The man's smile, though innocent enough, didn't reach his eyes. It was a dangerous smile, one Oliver recognized. "This is the guy that attacked us."

"Ollie," Chloe said slowly. "Are you sure this was the guy? Positive?"

"Yeah," Mia called from the couch. She hissed and sent a glare to Emil who was prodding around the wounds in her stomach. "I'd recognize that smile anywhere. Full on creepy."

Chloe nodded but seemed like she disagreed. "Guys, Nathan Drake isn't in a state to tie his own shoelaces, much less single handedly kick both your asses."

Oliver felt his throat drop to his stomach. "What do you mean?"

"He went missing three years ago." The head of Watchtower said flatly. "He was just recently declared dead by his family."

.-.-.- Insert Dramatic Music -.-.-.