A/N: Brace yourself! Another long one! Thank you again for the follows/favorites/reviews - each one I get just gives me more motivation and inspiration! Enjoy!


Felicity sat on the work desk where Oliver usually sharpened his arrows. Now, however, he was methodically stitching the gash in her side caused by Sara's knife throwing capabilities. The tension radiating off of him was nearly palpable and she found this somewhat humorous; the girl who hated sharp objects was having said sharp object repeatedly jammed through her skin and she was more relaxed than Oliver Queen—the Arrow himself. A small giggle escaped her throat at the irony.

"What's so funny?" Oliver asked tersely.

"This is usually the other way around," she smiled and she was glad that her smile relaxed the sharp lines of his face, even if for only a brief moment.

"I would appreciate it if this were a onetime event," he grumbled out, pain filling the corners of his eyes. "You won't feel it now because of the medication, but tomorrow morning? This is going to hurt," he looked at her, trying to communicate wordlessly how desperately afraid he had been at nearly losing her. "What were you thinking?" he whispered, delicately touching her exposed side.

"I'll give you two a moment," Diggle muttered. Felicity's eyes roamed over to where the man had been standing, arms crossed, stoically, guarding her as if he could retroactively protect her.

She shut her eyes, the medication that Oliver had given her clouding her usually crisp thoughts. She remembered Sara kissing Oliver and quickly moved forward, to breaking into the bank, only to find that Tockman had baited her—a game of cat and mouse—where the cat had waited to see if the mouse was worth chasing.

He had wanted a worthy opponent, but he had also wanted to destroy her. He had carefully watched her to pinpoint the exact moment she would be at her weakest and then he set out to exploit that weakness. She was so determined to prove herself to Oliver and Sara that she forgot—at the end of the day, the only person she was accountable to was herself.

And she had won. She had taken Tockman down, even when he had pointed a gun directly at her chest. She had managed to think clearly and rescue herself as well as secure the bank accounts of nearly every Starling City citizen.

She had prevented Sara from killing the man.

"She would have killed him, Oliver," Felicity looked directly at Oliver, refusing to give into the effects of the pain killers, but he averted his gaze.

"I know," he said simply. "And in the process she could have killed you," he looked at her then and Felicity felt that, despite the risks she had taken tonight and the possibilities of failure, she had made the right decision.

"I am sorry that I went off without telling you," she admitted. That part of her plan had been reckless and slightly selfish. "We're partners and I—"

"I understand why you felt like you had to do it," Oliver interrupted, shoving himself away from the table and fisting his hands through his hair in frustration. "I haven't been acting like your partner recently—hell, I've barely been acting like your friend. If I'm going to—no, if we're going to do what we do, we have to do it together. I couldn't do what you do behind the computer and I don't want you doing what I do out on the streets, which is why we're partners, Felicity."

She stood then, refusing to let him stand alone. She ungracefully walked towards him, trying to shake the effects of the medicine and the already apparent twinge in her side. When she stumbled, he caught her easily, trying to give her space as he righted her; instead she did exactly what she should have done a long time ago—she wrapped her arms lightly around his waist, becoming his anchor, just like he was her strength.

He hesitated and the fear of rejection began to form, tasting like steel in the back of her throat, but seconds later, his hands found their way into her hair, holding her head gently against his chest.

"I hate to interrupt your moment," an unfamiliar voice made Felicity jump back and Oliver was already pushing her behind him and reaching for his bow.

"Relax Oliver, we need to talk," Sara's voice filled the foundry and as if on cue, Roy and Diggle came to stand side-by-side, a human wall next to Oliver.

"Like hell we do," he roared, stalking towards Sara. Felicity had heard that voice used on criminals, but never on one of the Lance sisters, she almost felt bad for Sara, almost.

"You can fight with me about it later tonight, Ollie," Sara held out her hand, her head bowed in reorganization of his anger. "You have bigger problems," her blue eyes bounced between everyone present and Oliver hesitated, glancing at the woman that Felicity only recognized through her search of A.R.G.U.S.'s database—Nyssa al Ghul.

"I don't make social calls, archer," the woman said, distain in her voice. "An ex-member of the League has resurfaced recently looking for his daughter," she looked pointedly at Oliver and his face visibly paled. Felicity didn't know what was going on so she spared a glance at John, who only looked back at her, equally confused.

"No," Oliver argued weakly. "Merlyn is dead," his comment sounded more like a reassurance to himself than an argument. Felicity moved to step forward, finally piecing the puzzle together, but John grabbed her arm, holding her back with a shake of his head.

"There are places in this world where death is an illusion; you, Oliver Queen, of all people should know that," Nyssa sighed. "He is alive and he wants Thea—"

"Like fucking hell!" Roy, who had been attempting to remain unseen—per Oliver's instruction—roared to life in all of his enraged glory. Faster than humanly possibly, he was across the short space that separated him and Nyssa and he had her by the throat. "What does Malcolm Merlyn have to do with Thea?" he roared.

Oliver and Sara grabbed his other arm, wrenching him away from the assassin, who, to her credit, hadn't lifted a finger to fight back.

"He's her father," Oliver whispered. Felicity looked at him and she hadn't thought it possible, but his face had paled even more.

"No," Roy made a noise that Felicity could only describe as horror. "Does Moira—she has to know—she…" his voice trailed off as he began to pace the floor, his arms clenching and unclenching at his sides.

"She knows," Felicity whispered, looking at Oliver for permission to tell his secrets. "She knows and Roy, she is just as dangerous as Malcolm, if not more so," yet again she looked at Oliver as he closed his eyes.

"You knew?" he looked at her, betrayal evident in his face. "Both of you knew and you let Thea stay there?" he looked between Oliver and Felicity and this time Oliver stepped forward to answer.

"There is no where safer for my sister to be then with me," he commanded, enacting his Arrow voice.

"You're wrong," Roy shook his head. "She could stay with me," and with that he turned and grabbed his coat, walking away.

"You can't save the world, Roy!" Sara shouted after him, looking at Oliver to stop him. Oliver only shook his head.

"You're right," Roy stopped, turning back and looking at directly Oliver. "But I don't want to save the world; I just want to save Thea," and with that he disappeared into the night.

"What is his plan?" Oliver turned back to Nyssa, desperation in his voice.

"You have time; Malcolm is a patient man—he waited years to destroy the Glades," she pointed out. "My father would like to be the one to take him down though," she stated looking at Oliver with a look that only an assassin could give.

Felicity flinched. She knew Oliver was torn—he didn't kill, not anymore—yet he had made exceptions for those he cared for. He had killed the Count for her and she didn't doubt that if Ra's al Ghul wanted to kill Merlyn, he would consider it if it would save Thea.

"No," he answered sternly. "We. Don't. Kill." He looked at Sara firmly.

"I didn't ask you to," Nyssa smiled, bitter sweet. "I just asked you to stay out of the way," she threatened.

"We have bigger problems Ollie," Sara interrupted before Nyssa and Oliver could come to blows. "Slade Wilson is alive, he's back in Starling, and he wanted me to give you his regards," she pointed at the nasty cut across her cheek and Felicity flinched, her hand moving to the gash on her side.

"What?" Oliver growled out, taking his turn to pace the floor.

"It makes sense, Ollie!" Sara shouted back. "How else would Mirakuru end up in Starling City? It runs in his blood!" Oliver flinched.

"I saw him as well, archer," Nyssa stated, confirming Sara's story. "There have been legends around the League of a man in a mask with strength and speed beyond that of a human. They say he was born in hell the way we were bred in darkness," the way Nyssa spoke of such horrors sent chills over Felicity's skin; she watched Oliver carefully, knowing that one man could only take so much.

"He was dead—my best friend on that god forsaken island, I killed himself," Oliver mumbled.

"Perhaps you should reconsider your no-killing pact," Nyssa suggested with a shrug. Oliver sent a look that quickly shut her down. "I will be in town for two weeks; send Sara with word if you agree to work with the League on Merlyn," she nodded as she left.

"Oliver, we need to talk about—" Sara started, but Oliver quickly held up his hand, interrupting her.

"Not tonight," he stated. "If I talk to you tonight, I will not be responsible for my actions, Sara," he looked at her and Felicity expected to see pain, heartbreak, or loss in his eyes, but all she saw was disappointment.

Sara nodded, quietly exiting the foundry after Nyssa.

"I'm taking you home," Oliver looked at Felicity, his voice not giving her the option to argue. He looked at Diggle who only nodded and whispered something in his ear. The man left and soon her breathing was the only sound in the room.

"Oliver, I can drive myself home," she tried to reason.

He only shook his head, guiding her towards his car. They rode in silence and she thought that despite her tendency to ramble and all of the terrible events that had transpired tonight, it was comfortable.

He walked her towards her door and made sure she was comfortable before he spoke.

"Can I come back tonight?" he asked cautiously.

She looked at him carefully before nodding, not trusting herself to speak. For one brief moment she wondered where he was going, but then she tried to convince herself it wasn't her business.

"I need to check on Roy and Thea," he answered her silent thought. "Then I want to come back here and just make sure that you are ok," he breathed. "I need to know that you're ok."

"Oliver, I should be asking you that," she sighed.

"Roy's right," Oliver stated, shaking his head. She wondered why Roy had been right, but Oliver continued before she could ask. "If something ever happened to Thea, he would burn the world to ash just so he could dig her from the rubble," he murmured as he turned to walk out the door. "I'll be back tonight, but don't wait up; I'll sleep on the couch," Oliver explained turning back once before the door shut behind him.

She nodded numbly, wondering if this was real or it was only a drug induced hallucination. She tried to struggle through the fog in her brain, attempting to recall Roy's words—any words that Oliver might have agreed with.

I don't want to save the world; I just want to save her…..


A/N2: Next chapter will be Oliver's POV dealing with his confrontation with Sara. It's time they put some things to rest and he's slowly starting to figure some things out for himself. Also, his reaction to two potentially devastating enemies being back in town! Thanks again!