Oliver leaned back against his tree. "I hate getting shot." He rubbed his thumb over the spot where he had been hit. Diggle had said his heart had stopped. Oliver knew he ought to feel something, but he just...didn't. It was like it didn't matter.

Oliver frowned and pressed against his newest scar with more force. "I should matter, right?" It didn't anger him or upset him that he didn't. He was just numb and he could tell that his family was noticing. That they were seeing his increasingly wooden expressions and the little niggles of worry were growing in their minds.

Oliver didn't need them thinking about it, about him. He needed them to just...stop worrying about him. To just let him be.

Diggle watched Oliver practice as Felicity did something on the computers. "Oliver."

Oliver ignored him and switched from the target dummy used for hand-to-hand to his bow and tennis balls.

Diggle sighed and threw tennis balls for Oliver to shoot as Felicity tried to look like she wasn't watching. Finally, Oliver wound down enough to put on his suit and go home for dinner with his family.

"He isn't alright, is he?"

Diggle frowned. "No. I don't think he's been okay in a long time, you know?"

She glanced up and him and then hunched her shoulders a little as she looked down at her keyboard. "Everyone forgets what it means to have been out of touch that long. They forget his tastebuds would be different. That he'd be more comfortable with the outdoors and hard surfaces than squishy pillows."

Diggle looked up the stairs that Oliver had went up minutes before. "He wasn't alone on that island."

"Well, duh." Felicity frowned at him. "Look, I get that people tend to believe what comes out of another person's mouth, but you have to admit Oliver...Oliver sucks at lying. He gets all stiff in the shoulders and he likes to make you look at his hands so you won't see his eyes flicker."

"And that equates into not being the only person on that island, how exactly?"

"He says he was alone like he says he's fine. Lying through his teeth, again." Felicity pulled up a picture of Oliver's scarred torso from what looked to Diggle like a medical file. "There's speculation in his file that some of these were the result of torture. They aren't new, Diggle."

"No, they aren't certainly aren't new."

Oliver frowned down at the dinner put in front of him. He caught his mother looking at him, and Thea was staring again, so Oliver smiled and put a spoonful of food into his mouth. He was sure it tasted good given the expressions on everyone else's faces, but Oliver couldn't taste it. Everything tasted like moss. It was annoying.

"Oliver, are you alright?'

Oliver smiled at his mother. "I'm fine, Mom."

She nodded. "Alright."

Thea was staring at him, so Oliver stared back until she ducked her head. Eating was easier if he focused on Thea's whining over how Oliver never sat down to dinner with them anymore.

"Thea, I'm here right now."

Thea rolled her eyes. "Only because you got roped into it by Mother."

Oliver shrugged. "i don't think it matters who got me involved." He watched his mother frown and the horrible suspicions about her that had lead him to getting shot started clamoring for space inside his head.

Tommy knew it'd be weird working for Oliver when it was like Oliver was a host for someone not-Oliver most of the time. He wasn't stupid, he'd known that Oliver would be changed, but Tommy wasn't sure he could handle how changed, so he sort of hadn't dealt with it at all.

He'd acted like Oliver was just back from a weekend thing. That it was all the same. What really worried Tommy was that Oliver had just gone along with it. He'd been stiff and uncomfortable and he'd just agreed to go to someplace with lots of people and noise right after being by himself for years. Yeah, it was not-Oliver standing there staring.

The staring. Tommy didn't know what to make of the staring. Oliver's gaze had never bored into people before. Not-Oliver's eyes were like mini lasers. Tommy was certain that if he could just get not-Oliver to stare at paper long enough it would catch fire.

Watching Oliver try to eat was the worst though. He'd stare at the food like it was going to disappear and then once he started trying to eat Oliver would get all not-Oliver really fast. Tommy had given up trying to get Oliver to eat.

Tommy went back to the plans for the nightclub. It was all he could do for Oliver that not-Oliver would accept.

Oliver stared down at the banana on the counter. It was weird knowing he could just eat whatever he wanted at anytime.

Oliver ignored Diggle standing near the doorway and poked at the banana. Nothing tasted like he remembered. Except ice cream. That at least was still properly cold and the temperature was enough of a shock he didn't get a chance to notice how different the taste was.

Turning, Oliver opened the fridge and just stared at everything as the cold air swirled out at him.

"Oliver?"

Closing the door, Oliver turned his head to look at Diggle. "What?"

Diggle cocked his head. "You alright?"

Oliver turned from the fridge and poked at the banana again. "I'm fine."

"Uh huh." Diggle moved into the room and took the banana from Oliver's reach.

Oliver suppressed the urge to snatch it back. "What?"

Diggle peeled the banana and held out a piece to him. "I haven't seen you eat today."

Oliver frowned at the banana and then pulled it from Diggle's fingers. It was too soft or squishy. Something. Oliver chewed and swallowed anyway. He shrugged. "Just not hungry I guess."

Diggle nodded. "Sure." He held out another bite of banana. "Maybe you should eat anyway."

Oliver took the banana and ate it. "I'm fine."

"You say that a lot, sir."

Oliver smiled and turned towards the dinning room. "I have to eat with the family tonight. I promised Thea."

Diggle backed away. "Of course."

Oliver didn't know what was worse. His mother frowning at him or Thea staring like he was going to crack any moment. Oliver looked down at his plate again. "I'm just not that hungry, Thea."

She huffed. "You ate like three bites, Ollie."

He couldn't explain it. The spices were just too much. Too there. Oliver nudged his plate with his thumb. "I'm fine."

Thea huffed and their mother frowned at him. Oliver ignored them and tried to wash the taste off his tongue with more water, which made them both frown at him.

Oliver gave up. "Please excuse me." He hurried out before either of them could protest too loudly. Diggle followed behind him.

Oliver rubbed the tree's root with his fingertips as he drew measured even breaths. "I can't trust anyone. It just hurts too much."

The tree's leaves rustled as the breeze picked up.

"Okay, so I have Diggle and sort of have Felicity. I just..." Oliver levered himself out of his spot to stand looking up at his tree. "I can't even trust my own family. Thea...hates me sometimes." Oliver patted the tree. "I need to go."

Oliver quit beating the target dummy as Diggle moved closer. "What?"

He held out a pouch. "See if you can down this."

Oliver took it and looked it over. "Why?"

"Oliver, I can see how trying to eat the food your family is used to would upset your stomach. Thing is you have to eat."

Oliver sighed. "Diggs, I'm not going to starve to death."

"No, you aren't because you are going to try the pouch I just gave you."

Oliver turned it over again. "Pureed peaches."

"Organic. Not additives. It shouldn't taste like anything but peaches."

Oliver opened the top and sniffed. It did smell like peaches. He squeezed the pouch and blinked when a blurp of it splashed out to land on his hand. Oliver licked at it and blinked. "Uh."

"Bad?"

Oliver squirted some into his mouth. He shook his head. "No. Weird, not bad."

Diggle nodded and threw another pouch at him. "This one is apple and grapes."

Oliver caught the pouch and looked at Diggle. "I eat you know."

"Sure." Diggle pointed at the pouches. "Now you'll just eat a little more."

Oliver sighed and turned the second pouch over as he sucked on the first.

Oliver knew that talking to his tree wasn't helping enough. He was getting jittery and the last time he'd gone to sleep jittery he'd woken up to being in the middle of attempting to kill his own mother.

He fought with Diggle, but it felt like Diggs was giving him a pass. Handling him with kids gloves. Oliver didn't need sympathy, he needed to get on with his mission to clean up his city.