#####OQ#####

Here's your prescription. And you can stop with the ugly face, Oliver. You've already agreed to take them so don't sulk."

"I'm not sulking, Mae." He said knowing he was probably lying, as he snatched the piece of paper from her hand.

"Would you prefer brooding?" Felicity asked smugly but she gave him a wink.

"Oliver brooding? Never," said Thea grinning.

And he frowned at her and then shook his head. "What I prefer doesn't seem to matter, anymore."

"And buy a blood pressure cuff. They sell a machine at the super store that's pretty easy. Felicity, it's really important to take his blood pressure several times a day right now. And make sure his feet are flat on the floor and don't let him talk when you take it. And if his numbers are too high, you make him come back. I'd prefer he'd stay another day, so I can monitor him. "

"NO. Stop talking about me like I'm not here. Okay, I'll buy the machine. I'll take the pills. Just cut me loose."

He was resigned to his fate.

Mae had walked him through the rehabilitation ward and introduced him to several stroke victims to get his attention.

Losing a side of his body, maybe his sight, and his speech wasn't something he wanted. And, Mae pointed out repeatedly, with his luck he'd survive a stroke. Felicity would call 911, and they'd save him, and a stroke would cripple him forever.

He'd be trapped in his own body.

Yes, he'd gotten the message he didn't want to a stroke and lose his strength, and he knew he never wanted to be paralyzed ever again.

Okay, Mae'd straight out scared him.

He'd take the damn pills. After he'd looked up what had happened to him, he understood he'd been lucky he hadn't stroked, hadn't lost his sight, or his kidneys, and he knew how sick that made a person from experience.

"I suggest you buy him a weekly pill box, so he'll know if he's skipped a dose. He should take one in the morning and one before bed. If he misses a dose then he should take it was soon as he remembers."

"I don't need a pill box. And I'm in the room you know? Standing right here!" Felicity nodded her head, while both of them ignored him.

"How old are you this year, Ollie?" Thea had to get her stab in.

"Thanks for the support, Thea. When did you say you were leaving?"

"Funny, Ollie."

"I'm well aware you're in the room, Oliver," Mae glared hard at him. "And I expect you to make an appointment and come in the office next week to check your blood pressure and do a follow up. And if the flashbacks and dreams don't get better within two weeks, I'll up the dose."

"Up the dose?"

"Yes, I've start you on the lowest dose, 1 mg but some people take up to 40 mg at night. So it may take more than what you are taking to get your blood pressure and your dreams under control. This is going to be a trial and error kind of thing. I'm still not thrilled with your bottom blood pressure number by the way. So maybe you could just not push yourself right now. Understand?"

He answered her by not answering her.

#####OQ#####

Finally Mae released him.

The nurse insisted he ride the wheelchair down to the bottom floor and out the door. Thea had left to find her car and had offered to go and buy him a blood pressure machine, then she would meet them at the beach house.

Felicity pulled up to the curb, and he stood and walked over to the driver's door and opened it.

"Oliver, I think we should talk about what happened to you."

"I want to drive."

"Of course, you do. Male alpha thing." She handed him the keys, and he felt foolish, but he needed something he could control.

Shaking her blonde head, she climbed out of the driver's seat, with a frown.

After they both got in the car, he cranked it and shifted gears.

"We should talk."

He watched the road and shifted gears. "Can we wait until later?"

"I noticed when you say later, you really mean you're hoping I'll let it go. Not going to happen, Oliver."

But her hand reached and touched his arm, moving until she found his hand, flirting with his fingers.

And she made him smile, toying with his hand, until she said, "I met a man named Riley Clark in the cafeteria this morning. Mae referred us to him you know?"

His smile disappeared and he sighed.

"Oh, come on, he seemed nice enough. He invited me to lunch."

"Did you agree?" His tone wasn't exactly nice. No, all he could think about was Riley Clark talking to his woman.

"You didn't let me finish. He asked me to lunch with him and his wife and you were included in the invitation, of course."

"He's married?"

"You sound surprised. What do you think no woman would want him because he has been injured and has PTSD?"

"No, I didn't meant that."

Well maybe he did. He'd know for years that he couldn't have a relationship, that he had no future.

Knowing that someone like Riley was in a relationship, that he was married, gave him pause. Then it clicked that Riley Clark had told Felicity he had PTSD.

"What exactly did that man tell you?"

"That man told that me that he has PTSD and works with others that have it too. And he works with their spouses and significant others." She squeezed his hand. "Seems that PTSD is hard on people's relationships. Who would have known?"

He grinned until she added, "And I told him yes, by the way."

"Yes, to what?"

"Just lunch so far."

"Felicity! Don't you think you should have spoken to me first?"

Her thumb rubbed the palm of his hand. "It's lunch, Oliver. And why ask? You'd have said no, and then we'd argued, which I know you hate. Now since I know you hate the arguing part, I saved you all that drama."

"Felicity!"

"You can thank later since I just by passed the middle man and said yes. Now we can go straight to the making up part."

Okay, he smiled at her way of thinking, even if the last thing he wanted to do was go to lunch with Riley Clark and his wife.

"So you were doing me a favor, huh?" He shook his head and sighed.

Pulling in the driveway, he shut off the engine, and she reached for him, with the words, "Yes, now touch me. Kiss me; I thought I'd lost you. Oliver, don't you do that to me ever again. I want you right now. How long do you think we have before Thea gets here?"

And her mouth devoured him, tasting him, and inflaming him. And he let the feelings sweep him away.

He didn't know if he could wait until they got out of the car, then he heard a car pulling up behind them.

"Darn that's Thea," Felicity broke the kiss, pulling away from him.

Brat, he thought.

Just like his sister to interrupt him.

He loved her a lot, but he had to force himself to throttle back, instantly, missing Felicity's warmth.

Oh how she got to him.

It took him a minute before he could get out of the car without too much of a hard on.

He'd promised to cook lunch for them, and he forced himself to think about what he was serving, not what he wanted to do with his mouth right now.

#####OQ#####

"Ollie, I never knew you liked to cook." Thea patted her tummy.

They'd enjoyed lunch and spent the afternoon talking about old times.

Safe topics like when they were children and the trips they'd taken, and then Oliver had made dinner.

Now as the sun was setting, the two of them walked the beach. Felicity had said she was going work a little on her tablet before bed. As usual, she was smart like that, willing to back off and give him some time alone with his sister.

And even as much as he loved his sister, Oliver wanted nothing more than to take Felicity to bed, though sleeping was the furthest thing from his mind.

"Are you ever going to open up to me, Ollie?" His sister asked him out of the blue. "We have been through so much. I miss you, brother."

His stomach tightened and his voice lowered. "I guess there are probably a lot of things you don't know about me."

"Whose fault is that?"

"Mine." He gave her a slight smile. "Love you, Thea."

"Stop playing me,and of course, it's your fault. But really, I know you haven't opened up to even Felicity. We talked about it last night. You need to talk to someone about what's happened to you."

"I'm glad the two of you are talking more now."

"No, you're lying because you're not glad, since now the two of us can gang up on you. And we're going to, Ollie." Thea smiled before, she added, "But happy looks good on you. I'm glad you have Felicity. And we talked wedding plans while you slept last night."

"And did the two of you come to any decisions?"

"No, but it was fun talking about it, but don't take this the wrong way, I truthfully don't think the two of you are ready to do the wedding thing yet. I think you need to focus on getting better first."

"I'm getting better." He had to believe that.

Needed to believe that.

"Today, you're better, and I'm glad you're choosing to take the medication for your high blood pressure, but I think it's going to take more than that."

He stopped walking and she turned and took his hands.

"Ollie, you should work with that therapist Felicity talked about meeting. You need to make real changes in your life. And maybe you need someone to help you."

He pulled away and put his hands in his pockets, frowning. Riley Clark gave him a pain in his brain.

First Felicity and now Thea was bothering him with the man.

"I don't need help. I've been fine for years by myself."

"You're such a liar. If you could have figured this out for yourself, you wouldn't have ended up in the ER. You had a panic attack."

"I did not."

"You did. My big bad brother had a panic attack."

"Stop teasing, Thea. I'll figure this out."

She moved in front of him and pushed against his chest. "Sometimes we all need help. Please, Ollie, just promise to think about it."

"All right, I'll think about it." But he didn't know if he could.

He turned and started back to the house when Thea said, "I'm planning on flying back tomorrow afternoon. So, I come by for brunch around ten. It will give you the chance to cook for me again."

She smiled up at him.

"Brunch it is. I'm glad you came. It means a lot to me."

"And you're glad I'm leaving. So I'll quit pushing you. I hear what you don't say too, Ollie."

He gave her a smile. "I love you, Thea."

"I love you too.

Returning to the house, he wished Thea good night, hugged her and watched her drive off.

Then entering the house, he found Felicity had nodded off in the bed.

He knew she was exhausted and it was his fault, so carefully, he moved her tablet to the table, covered her up and turned off the light.

Then he went and kicked the ball for a while until he dripped sweat. After showering, he fell into the bed and slept.

#####OQ#####

Mike frowned at him as he watched him practice jumping. "What are you doing, Oliver?"

"Training."

He flexed the muscles in his legs and jumped.

Again and again.

Over and over.

He'd taken his cot apart and using one of the boards, he'd set up up a bar between two chairs, at a height of about three feet. He then practiced jumping and trying to keep his balance on a small board.

He could do this.

No, he WOULD do this.

This was his goal. He had thought this out and it could be done. It was the only way.

Shame he couldn't jump that high.

"Since when does jumping have to do with fighting?" Mike frowned again, and he noted that the man's face looked swelled.

"Since now." And he jumped again.

Flexing his muscles, he tried again and again but just couldn't jump high enough to make the board or if he managed to jump on the board then he fell.

But he would do this, no matter how many times he missed.

And he missed a lot and had taken several falls.

Finally, he had to rest and he eyed Mike, who dozed on his cot. The two were sharing a large room right now, since they were the only ones locked down at the time.

Ivan had moved him in with Mike this morning.

"You don't look so good, Mike. You feel bad?"

"I've had a bad tooth for a couple of days. Not been feeling that well."

"Want me to pull it?"

"Can't it's infected."

"Does Hereon know you're sick?"

"It's the holidays. He's gone. Pretty much everyone's gone right now. It's like this every year. The only difference is normally I'm alone. I'm glad you're here, Oliver."

He jerked awake, gasping.

Looking at the clock, he saw it was a little after three. He'd slept about two hours. Carefully, he got up and dressed to run.

Leaving her a note, he hit the beach with the soccer ball, dribbling, controlling, and kicking the ball.

But he couldn't turn his brain off.

Yes, Hereon had come back from the holidays to find Mike gone, to find him alone. He'd put Mike, his friend, out of his misery, after the blood poisoning had set in and his kidneys failed.

Mike had gotten very sick and suffered, been past suffering when his kidneys failed. The man had swelled up, been confused and had been gasping for breath.

Only one guard, a man with no compassion, had been left to watch them.

Hereon had killed the man when he returned and found Mike dead. And for once Hereon and he had been in agreement.

And he'd had been glad, had wanted to kill the man himself, since the guard wouldn't make a decision because Hereon was gone, and the guard had disappeared for days on end.

And he had refused to call Hereon or get Mike help as he got progressively sicker.

The place had been low staffed and both he and Mike had been lucky if the man fed them, as they'd stayed locked underground, abandoned property, and forgotten for the holidays.

In the end, it'd been a mercy killing.

He'd had to do, no matter how much it had hurt him to take Mike's life.

It had been an act of love, for he had loved Mike and it had hurt to kill Mike because he'd died slowly from a bad tooth.

He knew now that the tooth had caused blood poisoning, had went septic. The infection had entered his bloodstream and had slowly killed the man.

To begin with, they'd both thought Mike had the flu on top of the tooth ache.

Then he'd become dehydrated, and his breathing had become shallow but his heart had raced.

He'd done everything he could, but Mike had stopped being able to drink and his urine had decreased then stopped.

The IV hadn't helped.

No, it had made it worse because his kidneys shut down.

It had been horrible for Mike at the end, as his body failed him. He'd throw up, had a high fever, was in terrible pain, and had been confused. His poisoned body couldn't rid itself of the toxins, and he'd been dying slowly.

And, what still angered him was that Mike could have been saved by something so simple as a round of antibiotics.

A few pills that were available even in most third world countries.

Hell, they sold them in Mexico, cheap, and a few pills would have cured his friend.

And yes, Mike had been his friend. Mike had saved him repeatedly and befriended him, forced him to survive, while he'd been locked away in that hell hole.

He'd taught him how to harvest his own blood and how to do an infusion. He would have died repeatedly without Mike's training.

He kicked the ball hard down the beach and stopped for an instant gasping, knowing he'd pushed himself past what he probably should, as he ignored the small nagging headache.

Yes, a simple round of antibiotics, a trip to the doctor, and Mike would have lived, but no, instead, it had taken him three days of yelling to get the guard to take Mike's dead body away for burial.

And then he'd waited another day so the man could find someone to threaten to taser him while they removed Mike's dead body.

The two men forced him to watch from his knees while they took his dead friend's body away.

He had screamed in rage as they'd dragged his friend away and he'd been left alone, so alone after that with only his dark, brooding, anger.

His fists had turned bright red as he'd beaten the door after they closed it until he blacked out.

So, he chased the ball and ran the beach, kicking his soccer ball for hours, until he forced himself to stop and return to bed, so exhausted that maybe he wouldn't dream.

#####OQ#####

He jerked awake when he heard her scream, in full defensive mode, he rolled straight off the bed and rushed into the bathroom.

"What?"

She looked panicked, stricken. And her bottom lip trembled, as she said with toothpaste in her mouth, "Oliver, I knocked our ring down the drain. I was brushing my teeth, and I didn't mean too."

She turned and spit in the toilet and talked with her hands. "And now it is gone, just gone. See why I didn't take your Grandmother's expensive ring. I told you so. I knew I'd lose it. FRACK! I'm such a klutz."

Heart pumping, adrenaline rushing, he wanted to smile, but he refrained because he had a feeling she wouldn't appreciate it, especially now. Instead, he ask, "Felicity, did you run the water?"

"No. I was afraid to."

"Good choice."

He opened the bathroom cabinet door. "Okay, I need a big pan to catch water. Do we have a big pan?"

"Maybe, I've seen a hmm pan."

She talked with her hands again, making him smile.

"It's called a roasting pan. Go and get it."

He eyed the plumbing, while Felicity went and got the pan. It looked pretty simple. Just remove the pea trap, the pipe that looked like a sideways S. Then take the pipe apart and he should find their ring.

Wrapping his large hands around the nut that held the pipe together, he twisted it counter clockwise.

Loosening the nut, the pipe came apart.

He dumped the water from the pea trap into the roasting pan, and he found a toothpaste cap, a hair tie and her ring at the bottom of the pan.

The smile she gave him, as he handed her their ring amazed him.

Lit up his life like the sun shining down on a gloomy day.

"You saved it! You're awesome." She rinsed the ring off then slid it back on her finger.

And then she kissed him.

Hard.

"Yes, I did."

"My hero."

And then she launched herself at him, right there on the bathroom floor. Her hands pulled him down, overwhelming him.

Her mouth worked him over.

It'd been days now since the last time he'd touched her.

He suddenly didn't know where his body ended and hers began, and he didn't care.

And, Thea said, "Seriously? Would you two stop. Now I know why you didn't answer the door."

Both of them jerked away from the other.

But he still gave her a small grin. "Thanks for breaking or rather destroy the mood, Thea."

"You're welcome because my eyes are burning. I may be permanently scarred here. Really, Ollie on the bathroom floor? And Felicity, didn't I warn you my brother LIKED inappropriate places?"

"You're enjoying this, I can tell." He stood up and reached out his hand to Felicity, who gave him a, "we just got busted again", look before she grasp his hand and let him pull her to her feet.

Thea grinned. "I believe you promised me brunch. And Felicity, you're right Ollie differently has goofy grin."

He shook his head and sighed. "Let me put this sink back together then I'll start brunch."

Yet, he wished his sister had been a lot later this morning for it was Monday and it wouldn't be long until it would be time for his first practice and his nerves were getting to him and sex would have helped release some of his pent up tension.

Now, he had a feeling that he wouldn't get another chance to touch her until tonight.

#####OQ#####

"My name is Oliver Queen, and I'm your new soccer coach. NOW STAND UP."

Sixteen out of twenty stood, and inwardly, he sighed.

Scott and three others lounged on the bleachers, no doubt daring him.

And since Scott was their leader, he dealt directly with him. "I'll embarrass you, Scott. Send you to juvy. I'll have that the pretty car of yours towed to impound."

"You wouldn't dare."

"I don't dare. I will do it. And if you're lucky the wrecker driver won't scratch that pretty orange paint. Now let me remind not just you, but all of you, that I know the judge, and if I send you to juvy, no one gets you out, until I say so. Now last chance, stand up."

Scott gave him a murderous look, but he stood.

And the other three stood too.

All of them gave him hateful looks, and he schooled his face, as he looked each of them up and down.

He meant business, and he wanted them all to know it.

Nodding his head, Ned, their probation officer, opened a briefcase.

"Now you can call me Coach Queen, or just Coach. And there will be no phones at practice. No jewelry either. Take it off."

Unrest followed but he pushed on.

"Officer Walker will collect your belongings and will mark them as yours, before locking them up. If you run and play the game, after practice, I'll give your phone and jewelry back."

He saw shock crossing their faces, as it sank in that he would be making them play.

Pointing his finger at Scott, he nodded before he said in a dark voice, "If you don't participate in the game, participate in practice, and I mean give me your all, then I'm going to keep your phone, and you'll be picking up trash on Saturday morning, early. What time, Officer Walker?"

"6:30 am." The man replied.

Pausing for effect, he add, "And I'll keep your phone overnight, and then we will try again the next day. And if you cross me again, I'm sending you straight to jail. I'm your COACH, and you'll do what I say, when I say it."

He narrowed his eyes and looked each of them in the face, though most of them won't meet his eyes.

"So you choose if you get your phone back. You choose if you want to pick up trash or go to juvy. And I know you're all thinking that you just won't bring your phone next time, which is fine, but if you don't participate to the fullest you're going straight to juvy."

He paused again, and then stared them down. "So, I suggest you choose to play, or I will replace you with someone that wants your spot, while you're in lock up. And just try to cross me, and I'll get your probation revoked. Once again, I KNOW your judge."

He could tell that they wanted to groan, each and every one of them. He started pacing and looking each of them in the eye. "Next thing, I expect each of you to come to practice in your street clothes, in your new socks and running shoes. You have all been issued two pairs of shoes and new socks. One pair is for every day and practice and one pair of shoes is for games. That pair will live in your locker. Try not to destroy your practice shoes the first week."

Again he looked them up and down before he continued with the words, "And you will wear practice clothes for practice and your official uniform for games. Your official uniform will also live in your locker. I will make sure your official uniforms gets washed between games and your practice clothes get washed between practices. Each set has been marked with a number so we will know whose is whose."

He crossed his arms in front of his broad chest, before he continued, "You are responsible for your socks. Be sure you come to practice in socks. Practice will be Monday through Friday, 3:15 p.m. sharp through when I get done with you. When you arrive, you will dress out in running shoes and practice clothes and be on the field by 3:30 ready to play. Now I will give you ten minutes to go and get changed out then we hit the field. Follow me."

The unrest was instant with grumbling and frowning. But he ignored it, as he marched them to the locker room.

Once they were changed and on the field. He pointed at Nick Mitchell. The red head was short and stocky and wore glasses. He was one of his pot heads who was dealing. But he handed him a permanent marker and a ball and said, "Everyone gets their own ball. Nick, write your name on yours and pass the marker down. Everyone grab a ball." He stood in front of them holding a soccer ball, as they all managed to get their balls marked then he said.

"Everyone line up. Spread out. The first thing you need to learn is how to dribble a soccer ball. Everyone drop your ball on the ground in front of you."

He dropped his ball to the ground, in front of him. "I know this is going to take practice, and I want everyone to take their ball home and practice every chance you get. But be sure to bring it back for practice. This is your instep," he raised his foot and tapped the inside of his shoe with his hand.

"This is the part of the foot that moves the ball when you are dribbling. I welcome each and every one of you to look this up on Youtube and work on getting better at dribbling. Now I want you to use both of your feet, one after the other to push the ball along. Give the ball a small kick with each step you take. Watch." And he moved the ball down the field.

"Okay, everyone spread out a little and try it."

He moved among them as they practice and gave advice. "Don't kick it too hard, Nick. Better. Good job, Alonzo and David."

"Nice move, Phillip."

Yes, Phillip was doing pretty well since he was drinking. But he had noted the kid was somewhat sober today.

The time passed pretty quickly, as he walked among them and talked to them using their names. Some of them were starting to get somewhat control of their ball and others, not so much. Several of them seemed surprised he knew their names.

After about twenty minutes, he called them back into a line and said, "Now I want you to just practice rolling the ball backward and forward with your right foot and then your left foot so you can understand which foot is your dominate. Try to keep control of the ball. When you figure out which foot is dominate then I want you to work on strengthening the weaker foot. When are watching TV or playing video games, I want you to roll that ball with that weak foot. And believe me I'll know if you aren't doing it."

He demonstrated than walked among them praising their attempts and correcting them. And he found it odd that some of them were stronger with their left feet than their right feet, even though they were right handed.

After ten minutes of this exercise, he said, "Good work now everyone leave your ball where it is and let's run a couple of laps." Before he ran them, he stretched them out, then he ran them into the ground with a good pace.

Most of them were mainly gasping after about ten minutes, and he slowed the pace and turned and running backwards, he told them, "Last lap around the field. You can do this."

Several of them almost didn't make it. All of them collapsed when they finished, but he forced them to get up and stretch again. Then he let them moan and groan before he opened a cooler and told them to hydrate.

Getting them up and moving, he herded them toward the showers with the words, "Good job, team. You earned your phones back. I'll see you tomorrow."

#####OQ#####

It had been a good first practice, he thought, as he striped his shirt and started punching the bag he had hung from a hook in the locker room. He had started the industrial washer and had some time to kill, so he'd get in a workout. Jabbing and punching, he then added round house kicks, working up a good sweat when he suddenly realized the air in the room had changed.

Spinning on his heel, fists up, he realized Riley Clark stood in the doorway, watching him. Today, the man had on cargo pants and if, he hadn't known, he would have had no clue that the man's legs weren't flesh and blood.

But Riley Clark was starting to be like a bad penny since he just kept turning up.

Damn, he realized had his shirt off. He grabbed it off the chair and slipped it on.

"Oliver, don't pull your shirt on for my expense. Since by the way, it's too late, I've already seen your scars. All of them on your chest and your back."

He knew he should have left his shirt on, but he'd thought he was alone. He'd lock the door next time. For an instant, he had to shut his eyes to center himself, to push the self-anger down.

"Breathe, Oliver, it's all right. You need to wear your scars with honor. I think of mine as showing how strong I am. And yes, I've got other scars too. Maybe, you've seen my face." He pointed to the jagged scar on his cheek. "And I have other scars, both inside and outside, though one of mine is bigger than yours by the way."

The man pulled his polo shirt up and showed him the huge garbled mess that was his left side.

"You're lucky to be alive." He finally said.

"I didn't always think so. It took a lot of time for me to believe that. And from the looks of it so are you."

Oliver didn't know what to say, so he kept quiet.

Riley dropped his shirt . "How was first practice?"

He wasn't even going to ask how Riley knew that, since he was starting to realize that in this small town people talked and knew everything.

"It was a good start. A beginning."

"Most of the town is behind this project. Did you know that?"

"No. I didn't know."

"Well we are. Now, are we on for lunch tomorrow?"

"Look, Mr. Clark."

"No, call me, Riley." He smoothly interrupted him, "I'd like us to be friends. I need friends. People who can understand people like me. And I think you and I have a lot in common."

Oliver thought, less than you can image and that's not happening, but he said, "Where do you want to meet for lunch?"

"Pizza work for you?"

"Sure."

"I'll text Felicity with the address, unless you want to give me your number?"

"You have Felicity's number?"

But of course, he did.

"I just noted that you avoided telling me your phone number. If there is one thing about having PTSD, it's reliable. We are masters at not answering, at avoiding the question. Well, I just wanted to drop by. Touch base with you so to speak. I'll see you tomorrow."

And the man turned and walked away.

He turned and attacked the bag. Slamming his fists into the bag, he thought, that he didn't want to talk to Riley Clark.

He didn't want to go to therapy.

Why couldn't everyone just leave him alone?

Damn it, he WAS coping. He kicked the bag repeatedly.

Everyone needed to just stop pushing him. The dark anger assaulted him, as he viciously attacked the bag.

Mae was pushing him.

Thea was pushing him.

If John was really talking to him, he'd be pushing him, too.

Heaven knew Felicity was going to be not just pushing him, no, she would be shoving him after they had lunch tomorrow.

And now, Riley was pushing him, too.

His scar was bigger then his.

And he growled, as he beat the bag up.

#####OQ#####

As always, thanks for the read!