Okay, I must admit that I hadn't really planned to post the next chapter this soon, but all the positive feedback I got and the wonderful reviews made me want to show you how much the love you sent my way means to me. And the only way I know how to thank you is with roughly 2.500 words wrapped in a speedy update. I hope you will enjoy this chapter as much as the last one. Please let me know what you think.

My biggest thank you to my wonderful reviewers: LachesisBenton, Yelena89, foxxandbeanz, NorthernLights25, lovelove94, Moo Chapman and Ann. Your review love made my day. This is dedicated to you.

3. The pros and cons of paranoia

Where was a nice thunderstorm when you needed it? Right now, Oliver could have used some pouring rain, some thunder, some lightning bolts. It would have added some cover, it would have distracted the guards, which were strategically placed throughout the camp, it would have drowned out some noises. Instead, the sun was choosing this moment to peak through the thinning light grey clouds. That was typically his luck. He had taken position behind a huge rock, but there were still a good twenty meters separating him from the first tent. These guys may not be the best shooters, but they could think strategically. The camp was placed in the middle of the beach with plenty of space between the sea and the forest that began almost immediately where the sand ended. This position made them very visible, but it also limited the chances of somebody sneaking up on them without being seen. There were about ten army green tents placed in a circle. An army camouflage net was spread out over the middle and created a shaded square in the middle. It reminded him so much of Fyers' camp while at the same time it was nothing like it.

This, actually, summed up this whole experience so far perfectly: It was uncomfortably familiar but still distinguishably different.

Different, because he was not the same man he had been when he had been faced with Edward Fyers and his goons. The Oliver who had just landed on Lian Yu would have never looked at this camp the way Oliver, the Arrow, did. His younger self didn't have the experience or the knowledge he had now, he didn't have the abilities he had gained in the past seven years. And most importantly, he didn't have anyone depending on him. Back then he had been the dependent one. A forty minute jog away, Felicity was waiting for him in a cave, cold, hungry and probably frightened, and she needed him to make this right, to make the best of this opportunity in front of him.

She had wanted to scout the area with him, but he had put his foot down since her's were still bare. He wouldn't have her running around with naked feet – or high heels for that matter. Her inappropriate footwear had been the perfect excuse to ask her to say in the cave, where she was hidden and safe.

Before he had left to scout the area, she made him promise not to take any unnecessary risks. This just proved how well she knew him, and he had promised her, because he knew her just as well and he knew she needed the reassurance.

It was that promise that made him lay motionless for ten minutes to observe what was happening at the camp. By now he had a very good idea about which tents were empty and which guards were not at alert as others. He was limiting the risk of getting caught, because Oliver knew that it was risky to sneak into the camp. Oliver also knew that entering the camp was the only way to get some answers.

Technically, he wasn't breaking his promise to Felicity, because this wasn't an unnecessary risk. It was a very necessary one.

He saw the guard on the left light his third cigarette in ten minutes and knew he would next take another swig from the silver flask he kept in the pocket of his black cargo pants. It was now or never. Oliver kept his head and his body low as he hurried toward the camp while making sure to limit his visibility as much as possible. He reached the tent closest to his previous hiding-place and crouched behind it. He listened closely. He heard no sign that he had been discovered or that somebody was in the tent. He wished he had a knife to cut the back of the tent open, but he didn't have anything on him that was even remotely sharp enough to cut the thick plastic, which meant he had to sneak around it. He was moving silently, listening closely and in the next moment he was peaking around the tent toward the center of the circle created by the surrounding tents.

The sun, which was shining stronger now, and the camouflaging net created unruly shadows on the ground. A camp stove was placed in the middle of the circle and was ringed by three men who were sitting and eating out of metallic pots. One of them was sitting so that he was facing the tent Oliver wanted to explore, but he wasn't watching his surroundings. Like the others he was focused on his food and his conversation.

"Mann, das ist eine totale Scheiße," he was saying now. "Bäcker und ich haben die ganze Nacht nach Spuren von der Blonden und ihrem Macker gesucht. Komplette Zeitverschwendung bei dem Unwetter!"

"Sei doch froh," another spoke up. "Wir mussten nach den verfluchten Leichen tauchen. Wer weiß, ob die den Sprung von der Klippe überlebt haben."

"Wenn die Kleine tot ist, haben wir ein Probem."

"Das haben wir verdammt noch mal jetzt schon. Diese gesamte Mission ist für'n Arsch!"

Oliver was pretty sure that these men were talking German. He wished he could understand what they said, make out the words and maybe get some answers, but all this language was to him was a sequence of hard sounds that sounded so very angry. Instead of listening to sounds that made no sense to him, he used that moment to slip into the tent. He had been right; it was empty. The conversation outside was continuing, which showed Oliver that he hadn't been seen. The tent was as good as empty: a cot, a blanket, a big backpack. Oliver grabbed the latter, opened it and was pleased. Inside was just what he had hoped for. He grabbed the blanket also and glanced back outside. Nothing had changed there. The temptation to search another tent was huge. These men probably knew the area better than him, finding a map would really help him. But Oliver knew that in their current situation the backpack was already like pure gold. It was too good to be true that he had found so many helpful things already packed and ready to be taken. Trying to explore further would be stupid, an unnecessary risk that might get him caught or killed. And he had made a promise. It was time to get out of here. Less than one minute after he had entered the tent he was leaving it again, holding on to the backpack. The men were still deep in conversation.

"Wer weiß, ob wir hier überhaupt richtig sind."

"Wenn Fleischer sagt, die Anlage ist hier, dann ist sie hier."

"Mitten im Dschungel? Das ist doch bescheuert!"

"Oder gerade genial. Wer erwartet so was schon mitten im Nichts?"

"Du und dein blindes Vertrauen gehen mir total auf die Eier, echt..."

Without making a sound Oliver disappeared behind the tent again. There he crouched down and listened. Nobody seemed to be coming for him. He put the backpack on and then he hurried, his knees bent, his head low, back toward his previous rocky hiding-place. Part of him was expecting an alerting call followed by bullets flying toward him, and he was prepared to switch to a full sprint, but neither the shout nor gunfire came. Not even when he had left the clearing around the camp did he relax. He couldn't believe that this had worked so easily. Maybe, he had given these guys too much credit. Or they had seen him and were following him now, trying to locate his and Felicity's hiding-place.

It was a familiar paranoia he hadn't experienced in years. It was the difference between living and dying, Oliver knew, and he knew that he couldn't ignore his bad feeling. It took him another hour to come to terms with the fact that it really had been so easy. He had taken every detour he had dared – because the last thing he needed now was to get lost in the woods – and had stopped and waited for possible pursuers multiple times. At one point he had even climbed up a tree, to get a better look around, but there had been nothing to see but more trees. He couldn't really believe it, but he just had to. Now he was kind of mad at himself for not snooping around the camp more.

As he neared their hideout he couldn't help but think how lucky they were that Felicity had quite literally stumbled across it. Even in bright daylight, which was really bright with the sun shining from a cloudless sky now, it was not easy to make out. They could stay here for some time, scout the area and return here for the night – which meant that he would scout the area while Felicity was well hidden from searching eyes.

That thought fled from his mind in the next moment as he entered the cave and saw... nothing. Nothing but naked rock. She wasn't there. Had the men found her while he was making sure he wasn't followed? He felt his blood rush to his feet with the fear that suddenly hit him and brought along worst-case scenarios along that went far beyond being stranded somewhere without electricity. "Felicity..." he whispered into the darkness.

"Thank God, it's you." Felicity stepped out of a small alcove that Oliver hadn't seen before. It was way back in the cave, hidden by shadows.

The instant fear was replaced by instant relief. "Good hideout," Oliver complimented to hide his previous dismay.

"I heard somebody come and..." She crossed the distance between them. "You trained me well." He was about to smile, when she added, "in hiding..."

He sighed, because he knew where she was going with this. She had asked him many times to teach her how to fight. "Just some basics," she had said. He had always refused. John Diggle had showed her some basic self-defense techniques, but that was it. Oliver had made sure of that, because he didn't want Felicity fighting. He wanted her as far away from fights as possible – in Starling City and in this goddamn forest!

Not being in the mood for this discussion again, he decided to ignore her hint. "Why are you wearing those wet clothes again?"

She stared at him. "Because we may have been left in the stone age, but being naked in a cave is not really my thing. Not even Wilma Flintstone sunk that low." She was in a bad mood. He could understand it, but he didn't need that right now. "Plus, I didn't want to be caught with my pants down – literally."

He forced himself not to react to her attitude, because if he did, he would let his own bad mood out on her. They had been there under better circumstances than the ones they were in now, and their arguments were never pretty. Neither of them had eaten anything in the last twenty-four hours, neither had been able to sleep last night, neither liked the situation they were in, neither would back down from a battle of words. Oliver's face hardened, his lips tightened, but he just moved to take the backpack off. He dropped it to the floor, "here, dry clothes."

That had the effect Oliver had hoped for, the annoyance left her features. "Where did you get that?" She couched down next to it and opened it.

"I found the camp of the guys chasing us."

She stopped her inspection of the contents of the backpack and stared up at him. "You went there?" She got to her feet again. "You promised not to take any unnecessary risks."

"I never did."

Again, she stared at him for a few moments before she said, "Of course, you found a loophole. I should have made you promise to not take any risks, like none at all."

"But you didn't."

"I won't make that mistake again."

"I will never make a promise I can't keep." Their eyes were locked together, neither looking away. It were the unspoken words Oliver could read in her eyes that told him she understood his need to do what he felt was necessary, no matter how risky.

Her next words proved to him that she had also gotten his silent message that he knew she was just trying to look out for him, because her next words were a peace-offering. "So, what's our next move now that we found a hideout?"

"Dry clothes." He reached toward the backpack and pulled two pairs of socks out. "Here, these should help against cold feet."

She took them from him. "I think that's the best present, ever!" She frowned slightly. "Wow, I guess being confronted with nature really does make you appreciate the things you normally take for granted." She sent him a small smile.

Oliver knew it was a peace offering and he accepted it with a nod and a faint smile of his own. He couldn't vocally react to this, because her sentence spurred old memories in him. Memories of his time on Lian Yu, memories of the things he had learned to appreciate there, of all the things that had been stripped away from him. He cleared his throat and motioned to the backpack that was laying between them. "From what I saw when I quickly checked there're also two bottles of water in there, a lighter, a compass, a towel, a Snickers and a Milky Way... You should eat the Milky Way. I'll go hunting later, but it might be some time until we can eat something."

She frowned at him. "What about the Snickers?"

A matching frown appeared on his face. "Aren't you allergic to nuts?"

"I am." She seemed surprised. "How do you know that?"

"Felicity, you told me. I listen when you talk." He ignored the smile that lit up her face right then and instead answered the question she had answered quite some time ago, "We'll lay low today, catch up on some sleep."

They looked at each other for another long moment, before Felicity bent down and pulled a huge sweatshirt from the backpack. She looked at him and nodded, "You're the one with the survival experience."

Indeed, he was.