Author's Note: For those of you still reading: I am the worst, and I'm sorry.

I know that this chapter has taken so long to get out and I apologize for that. Life has kind of gotten the better of me as of late. This story (along with a few others that remain unfinished) will be completed, I swear. I just ask that you continue to be patient with updates.

Thank you and enjoy!

"Anything?"

Roy turned around slowly, already shaking his head in the negative. "Radio silence."

Felicity sighed dejectedly, already having known what answer she'd receive. "Did you-"

"He left the Glades about an hour ago, heading north." Diggle pointed to the flashing blip on Felicity's monitor. "Stopped briefly at 112th and Lexington, then took off again."

At least Oliver hadn't thought to deactivate his trackers. It gave the team some small sense of comfort knowing that they could find him if it came down to it. Felicity was willing to give Oliver his space, let him work through whatever was going on inside him, but she wasn't about to wash her hands of him completely. He may be acting like a complete ass at the moment, but she knew it wasn't entirely his fault, and that if his emotions weren't on – hopefully – temporary hiatus he wouldn't be behaving the way he had since his return.

Felicity sat heavily in one of the chairs beside John, leaning forward to press her forehead against her knees. "I wish I knew what to do." she admitted quietly, eyes screwed tight in frustration. "He's in so much pain and I don't think he even realizes it. I don't know how to help him."

Digg reached out, laid a hand between Felicity's shoulders and rubbed in small, soothing circles. He knew what happened between them the night Oliver had bruised Felicity's wrist, had gotten the story the very next day. There weren't any secrets on their team, not anymore. Too many times secrets had almost been their undoing, had almost ended all of their lives, and that wasn't a mistake any of them were willing to make again.

"Unfortunately, there isn't much you can do, Felicity." Digg told her softly, a sympathetic smile curving his lips when Felicity turned her head to meet his gaze without lifting her head from her lap. "He went through something that none of us can even begin to understand. A trauma like that... All any of us can do is be here. Oliver has to work through this on his own, and hopefully he'll come out the other side."

"Oh, he'll come out the other side, alright." Felicity muttered. "I just don't know if he'll come out whole."

Giving her shoulder one last supportive squeeze, John flicked his eyes over to the screen depicting Oliver's location. "Well, looks like he's headed back." he announced, quirking one brow at the image, Oliver's tracker moving at a good clip back toward the Glades.

Felicity sat up, rolling her shoulders in an attempt to steel herself to Oliver's arrival. "Remember when I actually looked forward to him coming down those stairs?"

Roy chuckled dryly, swiveling a little in his chair. "At least he isn't training you." he told her, rubbing his knuckles in the center of his chest. "I've taken more of a beating in the last week than I have the entire time I've been alive."

Felicity frowned, the corners of her mouth pulling down deeply. "Yeah, I don't know what that's abou-"

The program Felicity used to monitor the SCPD radio channel blared to life, Quentin's voice crackling with static as he barked out orders. Felicity listened, eyes growing wider when she realized exactly where Captain Lance was sending his officers.

"Did he just..." Felicity questioned, frown shifting into perplexed surprise. She couldn't possibly have heard that right.

Roy was already nodding, though, turning to stare at the map of Oliver's movements. "112th and Lexington." he confirmed, raising his voice a bit to be heard over the operator dispatching an ambulance to the scene.

Felicity was already tapping away at her keyboard, digging up what she could on the name Lance had given.

"Charles LaCroix." she read off, eyes scanning his file quickly. "Mid-level supplier to Starling City's drug scene, specializes in the rare and expensive. Looks like he was recently acquitted on trafficking and manslaughter charges stemming from an overdose incident last summer."

"Acquitted?" John asked, leaning in to read over her shoulder.

"Lack of evidence, according to court transcripts." Felicity muttered, chewing her bottom lip. "There were rumors that the presiding judge was bought off, but no one could prove it."

"Starling's drug trade is a massive industry." Roy snorted. "Of course his judge was bought off."

"Who was LaCroix's victim?" Diggle questioned.

Felicity flicked between pages in LaCroix's file, finding the answer Digg wanted. "Oh God." she gasped, stomach turning. "Reigna Powell, a sixteen year old student at St. Matthews."

Swinging around again, Roy hiked a brow in question. "So what, Oliver went rogue on this one?" he asked. "Of all the dirtbags in Starling, why LaCroix? What even put him on Oliver's radar?"

"I don't know." Felicity murmured, reading the file more carefully. "I can't see anything here that would have caught Oliver's attention. Not recently, anyway. It was in the news a few weeks ago, but Oliver wasn't even in Starling City then."

Digg frowned. "So, someone turned him onto LaCroix. Who?"

"And why wouldn't he tell any of us?" Roy added.

"Because it's none of your concern."

Felicity, Roy, and Diggle all whipped around, startled by Oliver's sudden appearance. He hadn't made a sound when he came in, not even the creak of his leathers. Felicity looked him over, not missing the splotch of blood staining the glove on his right hand.

"Oliver." she breathed, pushing up out of her chair to cross the lair. She stopped a foot away, too wary of him to close the distance like she might have once. "What's going on? If LaCroix is someone we need to deal with-"

"He's not. I already dealt with it." Oliver said, jaw hard and tight as he stepped around her, moving to set his bow in its case.

Felicity sent a pleading look toward John, who set his shoulders and said, "Oliver, man, you gotta tell us what's up. Going off on your own, not letting us have your back; it's dangerous."

"Our lives are dangerous, Diggle." Oliver said, peeling himself out his hooded jacket. "Besides, you seem to forget that I fought this war alone once, before any of you even knew there was a war to be fought."

"But-"

"I'm not alone now." Oliver smirked, the icy, mocking edge of it making Felicity's heart skitter and plummet toward her feet. "Yeah, I've heard." He shook his head, scrubbing a hand across his mouth. "Look, LaCroix was someone I needed to deal with, so I dealt with him. That's really all there is to it."

"Was?" Roy asked, Felicity echoing his concern, "Please tell me you didn't-"

Oliver cut her off with a roll of his eyes and an annoyed huff. "He's not dead. I haven't forgotten my promise to Tommy, alright?"

That gave Felicity chills, hearing Oliver reduce his vow to nothing more than a promise he needed to keep. Sure, it may have started out that way, with Oliver simply wanting to honor Tommy's memory by not being a killer, but it had evolved into so much more than that over time. It had grown, taken on a life of it's own; become the thing that drove Oliver, coming from inside himself rather than out of duty to his friend's memory. Oliver had genuinely wanted to stop being a killer, had wanted to preserve what he thought to be the last remaining dregs of his humanity and find another way.

Not being a killer was a choice Oliver made for Tommy, but it had become the truth of Oliver himself. To hear that reduced back to nothing more than a vow made in a moment of grief felt nearly blasphemous.

"Oliver-"

"Go home." Oliver told Felicity, gaze sweeping around to include Roy and Diggle as well. "There's nothing else to do tonight, get out of here."

"What am I supposed to tell Captain Lance?" Felicity asked, her confused emotions a snarled knot in her chest. "He's going to call and he's going to want to know why the hell the Arrow is suddenly up to his old tricks."

"I'll deal with Lance." Oliver waved her off, lowering the zip on his pants like he hadn't a care in the world if she was watching.

"The same way you dealt with LaCroix?" Felicity snapped, anger surging up to dwarf the pain and confusion in her eyes, masking it with glinting steel.

Oliver's gaze darkened, his eyes going hard around the corners. "Go. Home." he growled. "I don't want to see you again until tomorrow night, Felicity. I mean it."

Felicity saw the momentary flash of more in Oliver's eyes, a brief flicker of something other than the blank canvas he'd been projecting since he got back. Just as quickly as she'd seen it, it was gone, and Oliver was fixing his expression into a disinterested mask.

"Come on, Felicity." John set a hand low on her back. "We're not going to solve anything tonight. You need a ride?"

"I got it." Roy interjected, handing Felicity her purse but palming her car keys. "Let's get outta here, Blondie."

Felicity nodded jerkily, biting her lips together to stop the argument building on the back of her tongue. Digg was right, after all; fighting with Oliver over LaCroix wasn't going to solve anything. It would probably only serve to make things worse, if she were being honest.

As Roy led her toward the stairs, Felicity could feel Oliver's angry glare on her back. It made her neck prickle, goosebumps rising beneath her collar with every step. She wanted to turn around, to see if maybe she could find that spark of her Oliver in his gaze, the one that flickered in his eyes every now and then before blinking out. Instead, she let Roy and Diggle flank her to her car and tried not to worry about Oliver all the way home.

She mostly failed.

The next afternoon, Felicity met Roy at Big Belly on her lunch break.

Roy's friendship had been one of the only things keeping her sane over the last few months, and she found solace in his presence. It was easy with him in a way it never really was with Oliver.

Her relationship with Oliver was always fraught with this undercurrent of tension they couldn't seem to shake. He made her nervous in the beginning, and then the more attracted to Oliver she felt, the more Felicity found herself tensing up in his presence.

By the time he'd lost QC, his mother, and nearly everything else, they were in a place where their relationship was easier but their lives that much harder. There never seemed to be an easy moment between them, never a time that there wasn't more lingering beneath the words they didn't say, the looks they tried not to allow themselves.

Felicity's relationship with Roy couldn't have been more different. They'd started out as strangers but had managed to build themselves a solid friendship out of the rubble following Slade's assault on the city. The more time they spent together, the more comfortable they got with one another, the easier it was to lean on each other when the shit really started hitting the fan.

Sara's death, discovering Thea had killed her, Oliver's duel with Ra's; all of those events brought Roy and Felicity that much closer together. Their friendship had blossomed into a solid, unshakable bond that they had both grown to count on. If not for Roy, Felicity didn't know where she would have ended up after her confrontations with Oliver over the past two weeks. Having Roy's presence in her life, beside her while she slept, made it just that little bit easier to keep her head up and keep moving forward.

Sitting across from Roy in their booth, two burgers between them, Felicity felt a sense of relief. She could relax with him, let herself breathe without worrying she was stepping over some arbitrary line she didn't know existed, or that she was going to say something that would set Oliver off on his brooding.

"Stop it."

Felicity glanced up from where she'd been swirling her french fry through a glob of ketchup. "Stop what?" she asked, brows drawn together in question.

Roy grinned and stole a fry from her tray, popping it into his mouth. "You've got that frowny line thing between your eyebrows, like you're trying to figure out the mechanics of time travel in your head. Stop it."

Felicity huffed a laugh, leaning back heavily against the booth seat. "I wish it were that easy."

"It is that easy." Roy argued lazily. "Just stop doing it. Worrying about him won't accomplish anything other than giving you a headache and premature wrinkles."

Felicity flung a fry at him, laughing lightly despite herself.

Roy's grin only widened. "See?" He kinked one brow up. "A smile looks so much better on you than that frown that can't decide whether it's hurt or angry."

"I just-" Felicity sighed, resting her chin in her palm and attempting a weak smile for Roy. "I miss him, you know? It's harder than I thought, having him here but not having him back. Looking at him now hurts, and I know there's nothing I can do to make any of this better."

"Have you tried calling Thea?" Roy asked casually, like he couldn't possibly be any less interested.

Rolling her eyes, Felicity nodded. "That was the first thing I thought of. She said he seems okay when he's home, but he doesn't spend a lot of time at the loft so she can't really say one way or the other."

"If he's not home and he's not at the Foundry, where the hell is he?"

Felicity shrugged, fidgeting with the straw of her drink. "Thea has no idea. He won't tell her anything when she asks, just says he has things to do. I don't get it, either, to be honest. I mean, they've talked about the whole 'masked superhero' thing since he got home. It's not like he can't just tell her when he has to pull Arrow duty."

Roy hummed around the fries in his mouth before swallowing and asking, "How did he handle hearing that she knew about his secret?"

"She said he didn't even seem surprised." Felicity repeated Thea's report. "Who knows, maybe he was just waiting for her to make the connection and was relieved when she finally did? We all know how much he hates keeping secrets from her, especially after promising that there'd be no more lies between them."

"Maybe all the secrecy stuff is because of what happened with Sara." Roy suggested, pushing his burger aside. "I mean, Thea still doesn't know that Malcolm forced her to kill Sara or that Oliver took the fall for it. That's bound to put a strain on their relationship, right?"

"Yeah, I guess so." Felicity allowed, chewing the inside of her cheek. "But that still doesn't explain why he's keeping things from us."

Roy was silent for a long minute, like he was actually thinking through her point. "Okay," he said eventually, "let's assume that Oliver is up to something he doesn't want any of us to know about, including Thea." Felicity nodded, and Roy continued, "We already know that this thing with LaCroix is a need-to-know situation that Oliver apparently decided we don't need to know about. Maybe that's what's got him acting all squirrely."

"What if it's more than that, though?" Felicity asked hesitantly, unsure how much her mind was running away with her and how much was based in actual fact.

"More, as in...?"

"When Oliver told me about coming back, how it changed him..." Felicity stopped, had to fight down a surge of pain in her chest at the memory and was grateful when Roy reached across the table to wrap his hand around hers. "He said that Malcolm was the one who brought him back."

Roy went tense at that bit of information, and Felicity hurried on.

"What if Malcolm is holding that over him? I mean, we all know that Merlyn doesn't do anything for free, or out of the goodness of his shriveled, blackened heart. Hell, he used his own daughter to ensure Oliver would face Ra's. What's to stop him from using Oliver for his own nefarious purposes all over again?"

"Oliver would never agree to that." Roy reasoned, eyes hard and angry. "He would never let Malcolm use him as a weapon."

"Not willingly." Felicity conceded. "But, Oliver's not himself right now, and Malcolm knows exactly how to manipulate him. I wouldn't be the least bit surprised if this entire mess with Oliver's memories – his emotions – If all of it is part of Malcolm's plan."

"Plan for what?" Roy questioned, his mind whirring behind his eyes, like he was trying to tie together bits of information he hadn't realized belonged together in the first place.

"I have no idea." Felicity sighed, giving Roy's hand a squeeze. "But whatever is going on, I'm willing to bet Thea and Oliver are at the very center of it."

"How does LaCroix fit into this?"

"I haven't figured that out yet." she admitted. "But there is something going on here, Roy, something that is screwing with Oliver's head. We have to figure out what, before he does something he can't take back."

Watching Felicity and Roy through the Big Belly Burger window was probably edging dangerously close to stalker territory – not that watching them sleep through Felicity's bedroom window wasn't up there – but Oliver couldn't bring himself to look away. He perched on the roof of an adjacent building, crouched low and trying to ignore the fire burning in his gut as he watched Felicity's shoulders relax the moment Roy reached across the table for her hand.

"See anything interesting?"

Oliver growled low under his breath, not bothering to turn around to see to whom the voice belonged.

"What do you want from me now, Malcolm?" he asked in a bored tone, eyes never leaving the couple across the street. "I took care of LaCroix and Thea still has no idea that you're a psychotic, horrible excuse for a father. That really should be enough to tide you over for a few days."

"Oh, Oliver." Malcolm tsked, anger obvious in his tone. "I'd like to say it amuses me, your current definition of the term 'took care of', but to be perfectly honest, it just pisses me off."

Oliver did turn then, brow furrowed and scowl dark as he rose to his feet. "He's not going to tell anyone about his dealings with you, and he gave up his info on Ra's' movements. That's enough."

"What is or is not enough is not for you to decide, Oliver." Merlyn barked, hands fisted at his sides. "I gave you an order and I expected you to follow it. Instead, I get a call from one of my men, telling me that Charles LaCroix is being released from Glades Memorial this afternoon, instead of lying in the morgue as he was meant to be."

"I told you that-"

"Yes, yes, I know." Malcolm sneered, waving away Oliver's interruption. "You made a promise to my son that you would no longer take human lives. Though, let's be honest with one another, hmm? You've broken that vow at least once, already, have you not?"

Oliver tensed, middle and forefinger rubbing circles against his thumb.

"You killed Count Vertigo, correct? In defense of your – Oh, what are they calling them these days? – your boo? Or maybe you prefer the more classical, paramour?"

Oliver made a threatening sound in his chest, felt his lungs vibrate with it.

"Well, that's neither here nor there, is it? The point is, you chose to save Felicity over your vow to Tommy, and now you need to choose the same way. Except, this time, you're choosing to save your baby sister. That's got to mean something to you, Oliver. Your sister's life? At least as much as Felicity Smoak's, I would assume."

"I am not a killer anymore." Oliver reiterated, his own voice rough with tightly reigned rage. "Not because one life means more than another, but because I chose not to be. I may not remember loving Tommy, but I do remember how much I meant it when I made him that promise. I won't go back on it now."

Merlyn narrowed his eyes, seemingly sizing Oliver up, the intensity in his gaze enough to make Oliver wish to look away.

"You will do this for me, Oliver, and you will do it soon." Malcolm ordered, each word dripping with unspoken threat. "I would detest having to offer up my only living child, my own daughter, to Ra's in order to secure my survival, but I will do whatever it takes to stay alive, and we both know that. Ra's is coming. It may be sooner than either of us would like, but he is on his way, and when he gets here he is going to be absolutely furious. Do you want him taking that murderous rage out on Thea? Maybe even Felicity and the rest of your team?"

"Felicity and my team have nothing to do with this!" Oliver shouted, the cords of his neck straining in his anger.

"They knew you were alive, they harbored you." Malcolm pointed out. "And do you think Ra's unaware of your feelings for Miss Smoak? Do you truly believe him to be that naïve, or Nyssa above giving her father the information he needs to cripple you? You may not love her anymore, Oliver, but that hardly matters. One look in your eyes when he threatens Felicity's life, and Ra's will know you still value her life over your own, that you still feel something for her."

Oliver's teeth clenched hard, grinding together so fiercely his jaw ached. He couldn't argue that, not honestly. What Merlyn said was true and they both knew it. Felicity still meant something to him, even if he wasn't even remotely sure what that was anymore. He couldn't risk her or Thea, or anyone else getting hurt because of him.

"Say I do this." Oliver said, fighting the gritting of his teeth. "Say that I kill LaCroix. What does that solve? Ra's is still coming, and he is still going to come after both of us."

"Let me worry about that, son." Malcolm smirked, like he knew he had Oliver right where he wanted him. "You just do as you're told, and all of this will take care of itself. Thea will go on living her life, as will your sweet Felicity and the rest of your team, and Ra's will get the vengeance for Sara's murder that he so desperately seeks."

Oliver glared but said nothing, holding himself rigidly still while Malcolm gave a short dip of his chin and a cocky smile before turning and heading for the opposite side of the roof.

"Oh, and Oliver," Merlyn called back when he reached to roof's edge, "you have twenty-four hours to kill LaCroix. I suggest you not waste any more time stalking your girlfriend and her boyfriend, and get to work."

Oliver nearly punched a hole in the brick wall beside him.

"Let's do something tonight." Roy suggested as he helped Felicity into her jacket half an hour later.

Felicity snorted indelicately, pulling her hair free from her coat. "Just because Oliver decided to give everyone the night off, you think it's a cause for celebration?"

Roy cocked one brow, smiling as he held the door open for her. "I think the fact that we've all survived two weeks of 'Iceman Oliver' is cause for celebration." he corrected, following her out onto the sidewalk. "Come on, Felicity! You've been miserable since he got back, and I have never had so many bruises." His smile widened when Felicity laughed. "Let me take you out for a few drinks, maybe some dancing. We don't even have to go to Verdant!" he faked a gasp, eyes big and round.

Shoving him playfully, Felicity shook her head fondly and snuggled down deeper into her jacket, bracing against the cold wind whipping past them. "I don't know if that's a good idea, Roy. With everything going on-"

"That's exactly why it's a great idea." he interrupted, tossing an arm around her shoulders and pulling her into his side. "There is too much bullshit in our lives right now, Blondie. We need a night to blow off some steam, to drink too much and dance our faces off. When are we going to get another chance to do this?"

Felicity nibbled her bottom lip, debating. Maybe Roy had a point, after all. Nights off from Arrow duty were few and far between, and with the way things were looking they'd be even more rare in the coming weeks. Between Oliver's current predicament and the League's inevitable retaliation for Oliver's continued existence, their lives were going to get a hell of a lot more complicated, and quick. Taking a night to just be with friends, to simply live for a little while, sounded more and more appealing the longer she thought about it.

"Alright, you know what, why not?" Felicity agreed. "Let's do it."