A/N: I had hoped to complete this before Season 2, but that didn't happen. Maybe one more before the end. But I'm not really sure if anyone's still reading with any purpose, anyway, so I'll just keep on going.

Chapter 13

Matt almost sailed through physical therapy, and each little bit of freedom won created an increasing space between him and Liz. Neither was terribly surprised – they both had lives separate from one another and continue to live them. Claire had warned her about him and about what would inevitably come next, but Liz still sat flabbergasted, glued to his couch when he announced he was going back out.

"It's only been eight weeks since you started therapy."

Matt didn't stop his idle tidying of the room. He needed to move. "Jim cleared me to return to full activity this afternoon."

"Jim doesn't know the half of what that means. He cleared you to jog on a treadmill or take karate classes. He has no idea the extent of what you consider normal activity."

He moved into the kitchen and began rinsing glasses in the sink. "I know my body, Liz. I'm healed. I'm ready."

She stood and approached the island, facing him. "Maybe your leg is ready, but what about the rest of you. Where is your head?"

"Ready to get out of here and back out there. I'm more focused. I've gone a couple of times – not in uniform, but just spent the evenings with an ear to the pavement to find out what's going on."

"Matt."

"I've let you and Foggy keep me in this bubble of complacency for as long as I can let that happen. I need to go back out."

"And there's nothing I can say that will stop you."

"No. I can't imagine that there is."

Liz nodded. "Well. Then I guess your evenings will be otherwise occupied."

He raised his hand from the sink, somewhat toward her for a second, and then he dropped both hands to the counter and hung his head between his shoulders. "That's not what I'm saying."

"Well, I'm not sitting her and waiting for you to crash through the skylight in a million pieces for me to try to put back together."

He regrouped, moving around to where she stood. "That's not what I'm saying either."

She backed up by two steps. "I need to think things over. Okay?"

He nodded, scratching above his eyebrow as he answered. "Yeah. I understand."

"I should go," she decided, suddenly unable to budge from her spot.

He moved closer and took her hand, seemingly oblivious to her sudden paralysis. "Let's talk soon, though."

"Hmm." She couldn't make words exit her head and make it to her tongue, either.

He kissed her, letting his fingers trail through her hair, and suddenly she needed to move, too.

Three weeks later, she hadn't called and neither had he. She'd seen him, or a version of him, in the papers and on the news. He'd needed Claire's services twice in that time. She fessed up when Liz eventually asked but didn't provide much detail, other than to say that he was okay. Liz nodded and pretended that she didn't care or think about him or fall asleep with her phone in hopes that his distress call would wake her again. But she understood her role when she first took it, and it hadn't changed. She was a place filler. For Claire, for the city. He wasn't going to call.

About the time that Liz felt she fully comprehended this, she came to another, more unexpected realization. She contemplated her own course of action over the next three or four days before she decided exactly what he needed to know. She decided that a read-in fell within his rights, even though she doubted it would change anything.

She texted him when she felt certain he'd be out. For some reason, though, he was free. He said he'd come to her. Half an hour later he buzzed, and she opened the door, suddenly very anxious and not at all sure about any of this.

"Hey, Matt."

Liz opened the door and stood before him, her heart pounding out one hundred beats per minute. But there was another heartbeat, quick as a hummingbird wing fluttering, beside her or with her. Or in her?

Matt stepped inside, allowing her to close the door behind him. He squinted as he attempted to get the situation straight in his head. "You're not alone. Who's here with you?"

Liz sighed as she perched herself on the edge of the couch. "That's what I wanted to talk to you about."

Matt's perplexed expression melted and his eyes widened as he comprehended what had transpired. "You're sure?"

"I heard the heartbeat yesterday. And I'm guessing you did just now."

Matt moved out of the doorway and slumped into the closest armchair. "Yeah."

"So you mean: Am I sure it's yours?"

"That's not…" Matt protested, although a little too anemically. "That's not exactly what I meant. Only partly," he conceded.

Liz got up from her seat and walked toward him. She waited just a moment or two until he pulled her close so that his ear rested against her stomach.

Her fingers dug into his hair. "Matt."

He released her and stood, angling his body away from hers. "I can't be a father."

She dropped to the arm of the chair he'd just vacated. "I understand that. I do. But I wanted to give you the option, or at least, the pertinent information."

Silence descended upon the room. Matt sat back down adjacent to Liz and placed his hand on her leg. They sat there for a while.

"I have some money," he whispered some time later.

"This isn't about that. I'm fine. We'll be fine," she assured him.

"I thought we were careful."

"We weren't as careful as we could have been. There's only one absolute in that department, anyway."

The nuns had definitely belabored that point, obviously to no avail. "Right. So what now?"

"You've been pretty clear about what you want for your life."

"Liz."

She stopped whatever thought he was trying to have. "It's fine. Like I said, I'm not expecting anything from you. I just wanted you to know. And maybe that was selfish of me, but I honestly didn't anticipate this changing anything between us."

"Well, maybe it should. I mean, I could…"

"Matt," she interrupted again. "You have to decide whether or not you continue to live this life. It can't be something that I or even our child can guilt you into. That won't ever work."

"I guess not." He stood. "I should go." Although his head was spinning, he surveyed room around him more completely. "Wait. You're packing. Why are you packing?"

"I have a job offer in Starling City, or Star City, I guess they're calling it now."

"Really?"

She nodded. "Oliver Queen is an old friend. He contacted me last year about this opportunity. I turned him down then, but I've been thinking about it more and more. And this seems like the right time."

"So you're putting the country between us?"

She lifted her shoulders and let them fall. "I'm from the West Coast. The whole New York thing just sort of happened, and then I just stayed. Maybe I need a change of pace or scenery."

"Or Oliver Queen."

"He's an old friend. Plus, he's married. Or engaged or something."

"I feel certain that's never stopped him before."

"So we're gonna sit here and talk about Oliver Queen?"

"If it keeps us from talking about you leaving."

She reached for his hand. "Matt. Stop. We've moved past that."

"Let's revisit that subject, please." He sat back down beside her, their fingers still interwoven.

She reached up and touched the side of his face with her other hand. "I'm not asking you to choose because I don't want to make you do what you don't want to do, and I don't want you to lie to me."

"Liz."

She patted his cheek. "You should go."

His hands overlapped hers. "Can I stay?"

Their foreheads touched, and she closed her eyes, taking in his distinctively masculine essence. "I don't think it's a good idea."

His eyelashes brushed against her cheek. "Please."

She pulled back from him and stood. "I can't do this again, Matt. I need a clean break."

His body followed hers. "Tomorrow. We'll break tomorrow."

"But what if I'm already broken?"

His arms pulled her close to his chest. "Oh, Liz."

Her palm rested on his sternum as she extended her arm, pushing him gently away. "You should go."

"I'm sorry." His hands dropped helplessly to his sides.

She maintained the distance between the two of them. "I know you are, but I still need you to go."

He stepped forward and kissed her forehead. "I'll call you."

"Sure." She tried to sound nonchalant. She thought she almost pulled it off.

Once Matt hit the street he called Foggy. "Can you meet me at Josie's?"

"Now?"

"It's important."

"Okay."

Foggy had a bottle of Red Stripe waiting on him when he made it to the bar. Matt plopped his bottom on the tattered stool beside and filled his friend in on the last hour.

Foggy opened and closed his mouth about three times before he spoke. "Wow. I mean, I guess I'm most surprised that this is the first time. That you know about, I guess. I mean, how Catholic are you?"

Matt took a long drink. "Not that Catholic."

"Right. So when did this happen?" Foggy started counting off the weeks on his fingers.

"We're not discussing the specifics of my sex life. With Liz or anyone else. But yeah, I guess I had my guard down."

"So you were kinda Catholic?"

Matt rolled his eyes. "And just so you don't feel the need to ask the question that everyone always thinks they should ask but should also feel like a dick for actually asking, there's a baby. I heard it."

"Wow." Foggy repeated. It was a lot to take in.

"And she took a job working for Oliver Queen in Star City."

"She what?"

Matt's fingers drummed against the bar. "You heard me."

"When's she going?"

"She was packing tonight."

Foggy grabbed his arm. "Matt!"

"You know what she wants."

"She asked you to give it up?"

"No. She said she didn't want to make me lie to her."

Foggy realized he was still holding Matt's arm and released it. "Ouch."

"Yeah." Matt finished his beer as Josie stepped in front of them.

"Somethin' else for you, Matty?"

"Macallan neat, Josie?" She slid him a glass. "Thanks."

Foggy waited until she moved on before he spoke again. "So what are you gonna do?"

Matt sipped his drink. "I don't know. I didn't plan this. She didn't plan this."

"Okay."

"What do you want me to say, Foggy? I don't want her to go. I'd like us to have a chance, but I know what she needs from me. And I don't know that I can give her that."

"I don't want to sound like a broken record here, Buddy."

"Then don't. Just don't. Just sit here and drink with me."

Foggy nodded and motioned to Matt's glass and held up two fingers to Josie. "Okay."

Foggy woke first with Matt's knee poking him at an unfriendly angle. "Morning, Sunshine," he greeted with a firm but friendly shove in Matt's direction.

The other man stretched his arms over his head as he rolled away from Foggy. "We gotta stop sleeping in the same bed. People are gonna get the wrong idea."

"You know you love me, and I hate your couch."

"The couch is nice."

"And people are a lot more open-minded these days about sleeping arrangements. And I don't want to get up yet. It's only 6 am. And it's Saturday. I just needed you to move."

Matt swung his legs over the edge of the bed. "Well I'm moving. I've got a lot to do today."

"But it's Saturday," protested Foggy.

"I need to talk to her." Matt started toward the bathroom.

Foggy called after him. "What are you going to say?"

"I don't know. Ask for a compromise of some sort, I guess."

"Matt."

He reappeared with his toothbrush in hand. "I can't give her what she wants, not completely."

"You can. You just won't."

"You know it's more complicated than that."

"It doesn't have to be. Stop complicating things for yourself. Let the police do the policing!"

"We're not having this conversation, Foggy." Matt grabbed his hoodie from the floor beside the bed. "You want coffee?"

"Do you have coffee?"

"No," Matt confirmed as he headed into the living room.

Foggy jumped up to follow. Matt had already found his shoes. "Where are you going?"

"West 74th. I need to talk to her."

"Are you sure she isn't working?"

"If she is, then I'll go there."

"Well, I'm coming with you."

Matt paused halfway to the door. "We smell bad."

"Showers first?"

"Quickly."

A little after seven, the two exited a cab on Central Park West and turned down 74th street. When they arrived at the awning of Number Ten, Matt exhaled deeply. Sweat beaded on his forehead. Foggy reckoned he looked more rattled than their first time in front of a jury.

"Just maybe wait out here for a minute," Matt decided as he wiped his hands on his pants.

"What are you going to say?"

"I'm not sure yet," Matt revealed just before he pressed the buzzer. He shot Foggy a shaky grin as the door clicked open. "Wish me luck."

TBC