A/N: Expanded Oliver POV from State V. Queen (2.7). Again, full disclosure: I lifted some of this dialog, but the scene has been altered by creative license. I hope you enjoy my mashed-up rendition of Oliver and Felicity in the lair.

Oliver: "If you ever need to tell someone about your day, you can tell me." (Salvation – 1.18)

Crash and Burn

Reassured that Digg's going to fully recover and Felicity is really all right, I glance at my watch and cringe. They've had a rough day, and I want to see them both safely home, but I need to go and play Oli or face the wrath of my sister. Again.

"I need to meet my family," I say, wishing I could have one night, just one night, when I don't feel like I'm letting someone down. "You guys should go home. Get some rest."

Digg nods and grasps my shoulder. While it doesn't hurt nearly as much as Thea's direct-hit to where the Count shot me, what's become our version of a fist-bump sends fingers of burning pain down my arm. I swallow the grimace so he'll go home and go to bed and not worry about me, but I'm pretty sure it's bleeding again. Dammit. I'd hoped to get away with butterflies because it's just a graze, but it probably needs stitching and I'm already running late.

Felicity lingers, looking at me with those big eyes that always seem to see right through me. The blanket draped around her shoulders makes her look very young and delicate even though I know she's tougher than she looks. What on earth was she thinking tonight, going after the Count by herself? And why did Diggle let her? He should've called me. I would have...

Well, that's the problem. They couldn't call me. Not today. I needed to be suited up, and not in the green leather and hood protecting Starling City, because my family needed me to be Oli. I couldn't have done anything about the Count, and Felicity knew it. That's why she went herself, and that's why Digg let her.

I want to crush her to me and feel her heart beating against my chest. I want to run my fingers through her hair and admit that nothing has ever made me so irrationally jealous as the Count's creepy fingers playing with the silken strands before he used her ponytail to drag her across the room. I want to touch her shoulders and kiss away the memory of his hands on her. I want to tell her how proud I am because she's so incredibly brave and shake her until she agrees to never risk herself like that again because nothing and no one is more important than she is.

"Goodnight," I say instead of all the things I want to tell her.

"Night," she replies. I start towards the stairs to grab a fresh shirt out of the club's office. "Wait. Oliver," she calls.

I immediately stop walking and turn, but she'd followed me, so we collide, her shoulder bumping against the wound on my arm.

I grunt at the pain, and she immediately reaches out with her hand, her fingers hovering above the bandage.

"You're bleeding through," she says.

"Yeah. The butterflies aren't holding. I was going to get a clean shirt before I put in a couple of stitches and head home."

"Come on. I'll help. It'll go faster. I'm sure your mom wants to see you, and not all bloody and gross. Not that you're gross or anything."

"I get it." I smile and shake my head. "Felicity, you hate first aide."

"It's the least I can do."

I follow her to the medical area, and while she scrubs her hands, I turn on the bright lights and pull my ruined t-shirt over my head. She hesitates when she sees me sitting on the table, waiting for her.

"On second thought, maybe you should scrub too. Just in case. I mean, I'll do it. I can do it. I have this. I'm all over it. Not that I'm all over you, obviously. Because that would be inappropriate. But, what I mean is. Oh. Just wash your hands."

I smile at her and turn on the hot water.

"I told Digg this, and looking back, it's practically prophetic when you think about it, but I have a thing with needles. And blood. And bullet holes in arms. Especially your arms. Because that's really... just... wrong."

"I got this," I say, taking the suture kit from her. It's impossible to miss the slight tremor in her hands. Even if she were good at this, there's no way she could stitch me up tonight. Not rattled like she is. Fortunately, I learned to sew with both hands, but it's easier with my right, so this will be a piece of cake.

"I'm right here with you," she says as she swabs the area with antiseptic and prepares a fresh bandage. "But I think I've had enough medical drama for one day so I'm just going to close my eyes and think about not-sharp things while you." She gestures towards the wound. "Do your sewing thing. I wasn't very good at Home Ec anyway."

I take a deep breath and start stitching the wound closed. As always, I'm able to focus with the clarity that comes with such precise pain, and it occurs to me that it's a very strange day when the verdict for my mother's murder trial isn't the only thing on my mind. But I can't shake the feeling I'm missing something. It just doesn't make sense for the jury to find her not guilty so quickly when the entire trial went so badly. Something happened. Someone did something. And while of course I'm grateful my mom is home, I learned on Lian Yu that not looking gift-horses in the mouth is a good way to find yourself ambushed.

Finished stitching up my arm, I hop off the table again, gathering the bloodied bandages and used suture kit and putting them in the red bio-hazard bin.

"Oliver," Felicity says in a small voice.

I turn back to her, and once again, she's stepped forward, so we end up standing too close together. My bare chest brushes against her dress, but I don't move away and neither does she. She looks nervous as she stares up at me.

"I. Um. I just want to say thank you. And I'm sorry."

"For what?" I'm often surprised by the things Felicity says, but an apology is not at all what I expected.

"You were shot because I got myself into trouble again."

"I told you. It's nothing. Just a scratch."

"And you killed him."

I don't understand why she's sorry I killed him. I don't regret it. I've not killed him many times, and while I don't regret that either, I always knew he was a dangerous man who would never stop preying on the people of Starling City if he had the chance.

"You had to kill again," she continues, tears making her eyes glisten brightly. "And I'm sorry I'm the one who put you in the position where you had to make that kind of choice."

Before, when I could easily have shot him instead of the propane tank, he mistook those burning flames for my weakness. That was his mistake, not mine. I'm willing to risk myself in order to honor Tommy's memory and not kill people, even the really bad guys. But I'm not willing to risk Felicity.

"Felicity."

I take her hand and hold it over my heart, hoping she's as comforted by it being there as I am. She has parallel red scratches on her neck from the two needles. I don't want to scare her even more, but that wasn't a flu vaccine he held to the delicate skin of her throat. Maybe she thinks she would've gotten the same shot as Digg and suffered a little vertigo withdraw until she could take the antidote. But I have no doubt if he had injected her, Felicity would have been dead on the floor of the office before I could have done anything to save her.

She'd looked at me and said, Oliver, don't. Not for me. And she'd closed her eyes, obviously terrified but resolved that her life was less valuable than my effort to not kill anymore. But the Count made the choice to use Felicity to get to me. He made it personal when he called me, Oliver Queen, and asked me to come and face him. He didn't let Felicity go after I'd put down my arrow like he asked. He's the one who thought he'd be able to inject her faster than I could nock and shoot an arrow. Those were all his mistakes.

Another lesson I learned on Lian Yu is that there's a time and a place for mercy, and my office tonight was neither.

I didn't hesitate when I realized he was going to kill her. Three arrows to the heart so fast he didn't have time to move his thumb to empty the syringe. He was dead before he crashed through the glass and his body plummeted to the street. But I wasn't thinking of my broken vow when I looked down at him. I only felt the satisfaction of protecting someone I care about.

I am not sorry.

"He had you." I gently squeeze her hand and smooth her soft skin with my thumb, the gesture soothing and instinctive. "He was going to hurt you. There was no choice to make."

She hesitates for a second before she offers a little smile and nods.

"Okay," she says.

I lean forward to kiss her forehead when I stop myself. I can't comfort her. Not like that. She can't be mine. Tonight is exactly the reason why. She is both the source of my strength and my greatest weakness. To allow myself to openly love her, to be lucky enough to be loved in return, would put her in even more danger.

I can't do that to her. This amazingly brave woman deserves more than that. She deserves better than me.

"Goodnight," I say again. I clear the tightness from my throat and squeeze her hand one more time before I step away from her.

"Goodnight, Oliver."