Notes:

Sorry for the wait, I had a busy couple of weeks. I hope you like the chapter.

We try to live good though our heart bleeds, we want peace so we wear our hearts on our sleeves

Oliver

The three friends had stuck around until they were done with their food. After, they'd gathered everything they'd brought in and put the room back to its original state. He'd had several more cups of tea during their meal and his throat didn't feel quite as bad anymore, it was still sore but it wasn't as dry as it was before and that made a tremendous difference. He'd also eaten half a banana and several spoonfuls of the oatmeal soup Sara had made for him. She was slowly easing him and his body into getting nourishment again and the fact that she'd been where he was right now helped, since it meant she understood how difficult it was to find the right balance and amount, and at just what speed to eat to not overwhelm the body. Which meant she was just feeding him a slice of banana or a spoonful of soup every couple of minutes, gauging his reaction after each. Giving his stomach enough time to let it set or rebel.

He watched her about an hour after Thea, Roy and Sin had left them alone as she came back from what he had assumed was a bathroom break just for her to crack a raw egg and mix it into his by now room temperature soup. It looked like she felt he was making good progress in the eating department. Since she was assuming the taste won't have his stomach churn. Not that he was a stranger to raw eggs or understanding the health benefits and nutritious value that came with consuming them. Well, if they were high quality, from free range chickens that were fed organic food without any antibiotics. Like the ones he got from a farmer just outside of Star City, a farmer who had provided his family with food for as long as he could remember, he was almost certain his grandfather and most likely his great-grandfather had gotten most of their food from that farm as well. The farm had been in the same family's possession for generations, almost as long as his childhood home had been in the Queen family's. The farm wasn't located too far from the estate that used to be his home. They'd been their closest neighbors. It had been part of Sara's regular route, back when she'd gone riding with his family's horses. She'd rode past the farm most of the time and ended up coming home with fresh fruit, or vegetables or sometimes even bread or cake or whatever else the family had felt like gifting her with. The farmer's wife had always felt Sara was too skinny and needed to eat more. And how observant she had been, she'd worried about the blonde before anyone else had. Before he'd been aware he needed to worry about her. So, Sara had always gotten free food when she rode past the farm. They'd loved her back then and still did now. And Sara had appreciated their kindness and concern and still did.

Given their two families' longstanding business and to some degree personal relationship, they were even nice enough to come all the way to Star regularly and to deliver the requested food to them, whenever he couldn't make time in his busy schedule to drive to the farm. They would do it for free, never charging extra for deliveries, but Oliver always made sure to pay the family double the gas price plus the time it took the person doing the delivery to drive here and back home. What he ate was important to him, it was part of the reason he'd taken up cooking, even more so what Sara and Mila ate, he wanted to make sure he was feeding them the best quality food he could get. And to him that was worth paying extra to ensure the farm would not face financial troubles or end up cutting corners. He'd support them however he could and help them out if they should ever need help. He appreciated everything they were doing for him and had done for his family in the past and he hoped would do in the future.

Sara sat back down on the bed next to him, carefully helping him slightly lift his torso so that she could adjust the pillows under him. Once she was satisfied with his new position, she leaned towards her nightstand and took hold of the bowl, slowly feeding him the rest of the now tweaked soup. This was done in complete silence, not the awkward type, the good comfortable kind. Sara gave him some more tea after he was done eating and then readjusted the pillows again so his chest was no longer elevated. She lay down next to him and he wrapped his arm around her, drawing her close before kissing her crown, as his eyelids became heavy and sleep took him over again.

The next time he woke up he felt a lot better, not just because he felt more rested, but because of the nourishment his body had received. Oliver was also pretty sure he'd slept longer than before, but he had no concept of time. Just like he had no clue how long he had been gone. But the bedroom was draped in darkness, well mostly, except for the small, dim nightlight they kept on in a corner on the other side of the room, and there was no light coming in from the corridor outside. Sara was curled up by his side, fast asleep in her sea of pillows, and the apartment was quiet. So he assumed it was probably the middle of the night. He shifted slightly, groaning at the pain that shot through his entire body at the movement. He turned his head towards his nightstand to find the alarm clock standing on it, confirming his assumption with blinking red numbers. Two-thirty am. He turned his head back to Sara, watching her as his eyes adjusted to the almost complete darkness surrounding them.

His wife appeared to be fast asleep. He contemplated for a moment what he should do. If he should wake her, but he knew, he just knew she'd barely gotten any sleep for however long he'd been gone, it had been plain to see just how exhausted she was. And he also knew how difficult it was for her right now to fall asleep, to find a position that would be comfortable enough for her to sleep in. So he really didn't want to wake her up.

Oliver shifted again, carefully, and slowly moving his body closer towards the edge of the bed until he could throw his legs over it and slowly and with difficulty sat up. Groaning quietly in the process, painfully looking over his shoulder regularly to make sure he wasn't accidentally waking Sara up. So far, she was still out cold, which was proof of just how exhausted she must have been. Good, she needed the sleep.

Oliver placed his feet on the floor and held on to his nightstand and the bed while carefully standing up. Trying not to aggravate his wounded leg too much. It didn't stop the shooting pain, originating at the hole in his thigh, to rush through him, leading to his vision nearly turning black for a moment as his stomach churned.

He stayed still in a standing position until his stomach settled some and his vision became clearer again. Oliver took a careful step towards the direction of their bedroom door, still holding on to the bed for support. He slowly and carefully made his way along the bed and then the wall to the door, still looking back at regular intervals to ensure Sara was still asleep. He was breathing harshly from the exertion of simply walking. It took him what felt like hours to reach the bathroom; the struggle it took and the constant pain from his chest and the shooting one in his leg that came with every step he took were almost too much, but his determination to actually go to the bathroom for the first time since before he was taken was greater. He was also forced to hold on to the wall for support and his shoulder and chest hurt from the position he had to keep his arm in for that action. But there was no way he could walk without the support of the wall, it helped keep some of his weight off of his wounded leg, but he had to actually use it, because hobbling on one leg wasn't an option, that would hurt even more given the impact of the jump and landing on the rest of his body.

Finally reaching his destination was a relief, and he leaned his shoulder against the wall to stay upwards, ignoring the pain that came from that action given the wound in it, while painfully lowering the loose shorts, opposed to his usual boxer briefs, Sara had dressed him in. Sitting down was a relief in more than one way and he stayed seated a lot longer than necessary. Trying to get his bearings and some of his strength back. He had just with difficulty gotten up again and was now struggling to reach far enough down to take hold of his boxer shorts, when the bathroom door opened and a stream of light flooded the dark room.

"There you are. I was wondering where you'd gotten off to when I woke up and you weren't there." Sara just strode right in, closing the door behind her, while turning on the small dimmed bedside lamp she kept in here as mood lighting for when she took a bath, before continuing her path towards him, slightly bending down once she reached him to grab the hem of his shorts and pull them up for him, while her lips met his in a searing kiss. Usually it was the exact opposite, her pulling them down instead of up. He was grateful for the reverse, though.

"I had to pee, but didn't want to wake you." He explained once they broke apart, while catching his breath, he was a lot more winded after that kiss than he usually was.

"Figured. Why don't I help you get back to bed?" She smiled at him in understanding. He would've had the option to stay in bed, he wasn't just sure of that but knew that for a fact. Sara would've prepared for everything, but he much rather did it this way. He'd just needed to take a piss at his terms, the way he preferred after… after not having been in a position to be given much of a choice. And he'd hated the way it had made him feel; humiliated, emasculated and violated in a way. He'd needed to take power and control back. Needed to… it may not have been his smartest move, but it had been important, something that he'd needed to do. And he was grateful to know that Sara understood. And the way she was handling the situation. It meant everything. God, he loved and appreciated that woman so much.

"I'm sorry I woke you. Can you help me to the sink? I want to brush my teeth, since I'm already in here." He apologized, feeling bad that his effort to make sure he wouldn't wake her hadn't been successful. Getting in here had been a Herculean task, so he might as well make the most of it and he really needed to brush his teeth, they felt gross and there was a bitter taste in his mouth from the times his stomach had rebelled during his trip to the bathroom, never mind the coppery taste of blood that was lingering, even if there was a good chance it was just in his head at this point. He could also still taste the blood he'd spit during some of the torture and the chlorine from the water his head had been dunked in repeatedly.

"You didn't, Mila did. She's sleeping with her foot pushing against my bladder. Of course." Sara explained, alleviating his guilt. She let him put an arm around her shoulder while moving one of hers around his lower back, slowly helping him towards the sink.

"Don't let me be the reason you pee your pants then, I can wait." He threw her a pained grin, knowing depending on how exactly their daughter was positioned or moving around, holding it for long wasn't really an option and even with her help, it would still take him a while to reach their bedroom again.

"Okay. How about we sit you on the edge of the tub, I'll get you your toothbrush and you brush while I pee and then we go back to bed?" His wife came up with what sounded like a solid plan and manageable, he should be able to remain seated for the time it took her to relieve herself. They stopped midway to the sink, and she helped him slowly lower his body onto the edge of the tub. Helping him balance and only letting go of him when she was sure he wouldn't fall. She came back shortly after with his toothbrush, already prepared with toothpaste, ready to be used. He took his time brushing his teeth, enjoying the minty taste of the paste and the freshness that came with the action.

Sara walked back to him with a washcloth in her hands once she was done, and carefully and gently washed his back, letting him know, that she hadn't been able to while he'd been passed out from the surgery, but that she'd cleaned the rest of his body as best as she could while he'd been lying in bed. He wrapped his hand around her wrist before she could walk back to the sink, spitting the paste into the bathtub before addressing her.

"Thank you." He placed his hand on her cheek, smiling gratefully at her. It meant a lot. The way she was taking care of him, the way she seemed to know just what he needed. The way she understood.

"Of course, always. C'mon, let's get you to the sink to rinse and then back to bed." She took hold of his arm and helped him back into a standing position before wrapping her arm around his middle again, supporting him on the way to the sink. Once there, she handed him a glass of water, which he gratefully took, rinsing his mouth several times before handing it back to her.

It was when he saw his reflection for the first time since having been taken that he decided since they were in the bathroom already; he wanted to wash his hair as well. Sara looked at him with a mixture of disapproval, concern, and understanding. But she'd said nothing, simply helping him with the task. Her hesitation wasn't unwarranted, as he had to admit once they were done. Standing bent over the sink for a longer period of time had not been a great idea. Everything hurt even more now, and he felt dizzy. But it also felt good. He felt cleaner.

Oliver leaned heavily against the wall, breathing harshly, unsure of how he was supposed to get back to their bedroom, even with Sara's help. His wife just stood before him, quietly waiting for him to tell her what he wanted to do next. He did want to lie back down in their bed; he felt exhausted and completely drained of the little energy he'd been able to muster; his legs felt weak and shaky, his entire body hurt, his stomach was churning again and there were black dots dancing in his vision as he felt tears shoot to his eyes. So, he knew the way to their bed was going to feel like it would stretch forever.

"Do you want me to get your office chair? You could sit down, and I could roll you back." He looked at her at the suggestion, automatically wanting to rebuff the idea, feeling insulted until he saw the concerned and tender look on her face. She understood. Still, everything in him balked at the thought. It made him feel weak and useless.

"It'll be our little secret." Sara grinned and winked at him, trying to lighten the mood some and to get him to give in and admit that he was too physically exhausted and in too much pain to walk back. He just stared at her, incapable of answering her question. They stayed like that for long moments, just looking at each other. He shifted slightly and another bout of searing pain shot through his body originating at the arrow wound in his leg, making him groan in pain.

"Ollie…it's okay to…" Sara started but cut herself off as he looked at her sharply before his eyes turned away from her and he bit his lip waiting for a moment before he just barely nodded his head, letting her know he wouldn't be able to walk back to their room. But he couldn't look at her while admitting his weakness, even while knowing Sara didn't care, didn't see him as less because of it, but it just wasn't something he felt comfortable doing, period. He hated showing weakness. Hated feeling weak and vulnerable even more. It made him feel helpless and not in control. Those feelings reminded him too much of the first few weeks or months after the Gambit sank. He'd been weak and powerless and he'd had no control over anything. He'd been helpless and left at the mercy of everyone he'd met. Most of which had none. It was a feeling he despised. A feeling he tried to avoid if ever possible, but he couldn't help it now. He felt similarly as he had after Yao Fei had shot him with the arrow and left him alone in the cave later on. And he hated it.

Sara closed the distance between them. Placing her hand on his neck and forcing him to look right at her.

"Thank you for not being reckless with your body and taking care of yourself. Thank you for admitting that you are not feeling up to walking back. I love you." She kissed him softly before slipping away and out of the bathroom to get the aforementioned chair.

Oliver felt a lump in his throat and tears fall from his eyes running down his cheeks.

It didn't take Sara long to return with the chair, he noticed a pair of his wool socks in her hand and looked at her confused, but she just ignored his silent question and helping him painfully lower himself onto it. She got down on her hunches in front of him once she was sure he was sitting safely. Oliver could feel her slightly and carefully lift his foot a little so she could put the wool sock on, before softly lowering it to the floor again, repeating the action with his other foot. It was when that unexpected task was finished that she placed her hands on either side of his face, wiping his tears away with her thumbs before kissing his lips softly and then leaning her forehead against his.

He had closed his eyes, refusing to look at her when she got down on her hunches. It was only after one of her hands left his cheek, took one of his and placed it right above a spot where a tiny foot was kicking against, that he opened them again.

"I don't care about any of that. All I care about is you and your health. I, we need you to take care of yourself and your body. We need you to take it slow and give your body the time it needs to recover and heal. There's enormous strength in admitting that you are currently not up to walking back. It's a wonder you even made it to the bathroom in the first place, given the amount and severity of your injuries. I'd rather have you admit you are in too much pain than have you overexert yourself and make things worse and possibly permanently damage your body in a way that will bring some real restrictions with it. I want you to be able to chase after our girl, to carry her around even as she grows, to climb on trees with her. Mila and I need you to put yourself and your health first. That's the only thing we care about, Ollie." She looked straight at him, almost as if she'd waited for him to open his eyes before telling him what she felt necessary to. Her words brought even more tears to his eyes for several different reasons.

"I know. I just... I love you and Mila more than anything. There's nothing I wouldn't do for you." He told her between sobs. He didn't know what was up with him right now, why he was so emotional.

"And I love you. Good, what we want and need you to do is admit your body's current boundaries to me, but especially to yourself. A normal person would've never made it out of the bed, given your wounds. This is not a show of weakness Oliver, this is a show of true strength." He pursed his lips, wiping some of his tears away with the hand not currently placed on her stomach, swallowing harshly. He once again nodded his head, not looking at her. Feeling ashamed about the way he felt, about the way his pride was refusing to admit what he knew was the truth in her words. He knew she was right, but it was just so unbelievably difficult to admit that he was too weak to walk the short distance to their bedroom. It was humiliating.

He forced himself to look at Sara again, and all he could see was love, understanding, and compassion.

"Let's go back to bed." He forced the words out of his mouth, Sara stayed in her position a little while longer, mustering him as if she was looking for something in his eyes until she was the one who nodded almost imperceptibly, and he helped her get back up.

"I'll pull you backwards. You won't have to lift your legs this way and we won't risk hurting it even more." She explained before slowly turning him around. The wool socks made a lot more sense now. She thought of everything, his Pretty Bird. God, he loved her so much. Sara slowly and carefully pulled him into their bedroom and next to his side of the bed. She then slowly helped him off the chair and onto the bed, making sure he was laying comfortably before taking the socks off again and putting the chair away, returning with more tea and food, putting it onto his nightstand and then checking his wounds, making sure he hadn't pulled any stitches, he was sure. There were still tears running down his face, while Sara covered him with the blanket once more. Everything hurt, but most of all, his leg wound and the one in his shoulder and there was a pulsing in his cut hand.

"Are you up to eating or drinking some more? Or do you want to try and get some more sleep first?" She looked at him, waiting for a reply, having sat down on the edge of the bed right next to him. One of her hands caressing his face, her thumb wiping away his tears. He swallowed harshly, trying to hold back the sobs that threatened to spill free.

"Sleep." He forced out through gritted teeth. Sara nodded in understanding, but stayed seated next to him, mustering him quietly again.

"Do you want something for the pain?" The way she looked and the sound of her voice made it obvious she wasn't sure about her question, second guessing herself. It was a good one, though. Did he want the excruciating pain his entire body seemed to be in to go away or lessen? Of course. Did he want to take something to make that happen? Boy, did he want to. Would he actually take something? No. No, he wouldn't. He made it a habit to not take pain killers until absolutely necessary, like after Roy had messed up his knee while being under the influence of the Mirakuru. He'd still needed to function. He hadn't had the luxury to just rest and give his knee some time to heal back then. Not with Slade around and out to get him and his family. So, he'd taken pain meds, shot them right into his knee. They'd given him some relief, but not nearly as much as he had craved, especially after Sara had walked out on him. Temptation to get lost in them, to take another shot, just because he could, and then maybe another until not only his knee was numb but his emotions as well. He'd resisted the urge; his mom and Thea had been expecting him. But it had taken a lot of restraint on his part, even more so after Slade murdered his mom. All he'd wanted was to get lost. Lost in Sara, but that hadn't been an option. Lost in just disappearing again, like he had done after Tommy's death, but that hadn't been an option either. Thea had needed him and who knew what Slade would've done in his absence. Lost in alcohol and drugs, but again, it hadn't been an option, not really because it was a slippery-slope, and he would have been even more useless than he'd been the night Slade had killed his mom. Maybe his mind would've been sharper, maybe he could've prevented… maybe… had he not taken a pretty high dose of pain meds, maybe things would've been different. He didn't know, but he hadn't been willing to risk losing his focus and becoming a liability, so getting lost in booze and drugs hadn't been an option either. He'd gotten lost in his mind for a while. Not that that had been better, but it had been the least dangerous and destructive option he'd had at the time. At least for everyone around him, it had been pretty destructive for himself.

Oliver still struggled when thinking of that night, still felt it had been his fault. Maybe if he'd told his mom and Thea about Slade, maybe if… he didn't know. Rationally, he knew it probably wouldn't have changed anything. Slade had been hell bent on destroying him, and there had been nothing he could've done to stop him from going after them, but maybe…. he closed his eyes. He didn't want to go down that route right now; he didn't have the energy to once again get on that merry-go-around with no way off once you boarded it. The only thing he knew for a fact was that his mom was dead because of him and that her murder had made him want to disappear in the most destructive way possible. And temptation had been so great, especially because he'd been handed very potent drugs just hours before her murder and his knee had hurt so intensely it would've worked as a perfect excuse to find oblivion. So, he'd set some rules for himself when it came to pain meds; only take them when absolutely necessary.

Otherwise, it would be a slippery slope. What type of pain justified taking something? What situation would justify swallowing some pills or, better yet, inject it straight into the bloodstream?

No, too dangerous, as someone who would probably fit the description of a former alcoholic and drug addict, no need to take unnecessary risks. And better to avoid temptation. And the oblivion that came with strong pain medication was unbelievably tempting at times and not necessarily while he was in physical pain. They were already highly addictive for people who didn't have the heavy drug use he had in his past. So, no. There was no need. He didn't need to function right now.

He swallowed harshly again and trained his eyes away from his wife again, once more feeling shame for the reason why he couldn't take something, before shaking his head. Not that there was a reason to be ashamed in front of Sara. She knew his past; she lived his past and joined in more times than not and she'd never judge him... it was just... he wasn't sure what was up with him right now.

"Okay." Sara smiled at him in understanding, running her hand through his hair.

"I love you." She brushed her lips against his before getting up and walking around the bed to reach her side and climb in, it as usual took her a moment to find a comfortable position and once she did, she placed her hand on his forearm in a show of silent comfort without crowding him. Having read him correctly once again.

Part of him would've preferred to be all by himself, but it wasn't like he could just leave, and he would never ask Sara to sleep somewhere else. Especially not now when sleeping was a struggle already. And he was sure it would mean she'd be sleeping on the couch. He was assuming both bedrooms were occupied with Thea, Sin and Roy here. Not that he wanted to dwell too much on the possible sleeping arrangements and the meaning behind them. He knew Thea was an adult, and Roy a good man, but still, Speedy was his baby sister…

He didn't want a witness to his physical and emotional weakness.

And another part of him didn't want to be alone. Needed the reassurance that came with her presence. It helped him remember he was home. That the horror of his time in Adrian's captivity was over.

And if there was going to be a witness to his breakdown, he'd rather have it be Sara than anyone else.

Oliver wasn't sure how long he'd stayed awake and how much of that time he'd spent crying. But he noticed the moment Sara drifted off, shortly after his sobs had ceased and tears had dried. It touched his heart and made him feel guilty at the same time when he realized she'd forced herself to stay awake for him. That she'd refused to fall asleep while he was having his emotional breakdown, even while he was refusing to let her comfort him or even just acknowledge her presence. He didn't deserve her.

Oliver slightly shifted in hopes of finding a position that was less painful, unsuccessfully. It was almost as if his entire body hurt even more than it had before. Going to the bathroom had not been his best idea. He had to admit that now. The exercise seemed to have amplified the pain he'd already felt before by a lot. So, he gave up and closed his eyes, willing sleep to come. He was still completely exhausted physically and emotionally drained, given his breakdown. But sleep refused to come this time around. His mind was going a million miles a minute, replaying the last who knew how many days in captivity, but at the same time he couldn't really focus on anything specific for the longest time. The torture physical, but also the mental one, sprung to the forefront on the regular, but it was difficult to get past the anguish that came with the memory to focus on the surroundings and things Adrian had said or done. He tried to push Adrian's actions and voice away, tried to block the memories of the events to grant his mind the much-needed rest, but it was a battle he was losing. The memories refused to be repressed. So, he tried to do the opposite in hopes they'd leave him alone afterwards and put his entire focus on them; to analyze them in order to figure out if he had missed anything, if Adrian had given away more than he'd thought, but even that didn't work the way he wanted it to and his mind focused on the threats Adrian had made.

Threats against everyone he cared about, against his family; Speedy, Sara, Mila and William. The one person he couldn't protect, the one person out of his reach. Maybe Dig had been right.

"I know where Sara is every night, Oliver. I know what she's doing, who she's with. She sees my face every single day. I'm there for her, and she knows, and I know that I would never let anything bad happen to her. I keep her close, man, and that's how you keep your children safe."

Maybe that would've been the safer approach, at least that way he'd know where William was, could protect his son himself if need be… but it would've meant William would've needed protection twenty-four-seven, someone to keep him safe at all times. A bodyguard, or have him stay here, with Sara day in and day out… no, no, that was no life for a boy his son's age. William would've felt like a prisoner, it would've come across like a punishment. He would've taken his freedom from his boy and that wouldn't have been right, either. He just needed to have faith now, faith that William was hidden well enough away that even Adrian and Ruvé wouldn't be able to find him. He needed to trust William was safe. He had no other option, not without being the one to lead them to his son's whereabouts. And he refused to do that.

Oliver desperately tried to force those thoughts away, to empty his mind of the dark and despairing thoughts. He closed his eyes and focused on Sara's even breathing, hoping the rhythmic and calming sound would help lull him to sleep as it had done countless times before. He had to smile at the usually barely audible sound, which was quite a bit louder now, he wouldn't go as far and say she was snoring, at least not to her face, he might be stupid, but even he wasn't that stupid, but given the surge in pregnancy hormones which caused a buildup in fluids in her nasal passages which were reducing the space needed to breathe, it was definitely more audible than before her pregnancy. That thought made him consider all the other places in her body that were being reduced now that Mila was taking up more and more space, pushing her mother's organs out of the way to make room for herself and leaving them with a lot less room than they were used to and presumably needed. It was fascinating, really. Just how much a woman's organs could be moved, with just how little room they were still able to fully function. It was mind-blowing. And no wonder Sara was out of breath so easily and frequently now, given the limited space her lungs had left and the way the chest changed to ensure full lung capacity was still possible and just how much smaller the space for all of her organs would get as their daughter continued to grow. He couldn't even imagine.

Mila took up so much space that was usually occupied by Sara's organs. He mustered his sleeping wife in the dim light; it wasn't difficult. Her blanket was nearly completely stripped off. Another significant change. Sara usually slept with at least one blanket, preferably two, getting cold easily, and needing the security that came with the weight surrounding her, but now she was constantly too hot, a feeling he could relate to. Possibly the only one concerning all the issues the pregnancy was giving her.

He studied her, trying to figure out exactly how much room Mila was taking up right now; he felt like she'd grown in the time he'd been away, how much space Sara's organs handed over to their little girl. Oliver tried to imagine what it would feel like to breathe while his lungs no longer had the space they needed to fully extend, but it was difficult to try and figure out what it would feel like if his chest size would change in order to ensure he'd still be able to properly breathe while some of the space his lungs usually took up was no longer available, how it would feel if the majority of his organs would just be pushed upwards.

Oliver welcomed the new turn his thoughts had taken. It was a nice distraction, and he leaned into it, letting them push away the ones about his son's safety. The thoughts about the changes Sara's body was going through and the rhythmic sound of her even breathing eventually helped him fall asleep again.

Notes:

I try to stay as realistic as possible but I've got no clue, I've never had injuries like Oliver does, nor have I ever known someone with injuries that bad so...

Also I hope Oliver's actions and reactions make sense. I know it might feel out of character but I don't know... it just felt right. Dude's got a lot on his plate, some severe trauma and is in a lot, a lot of pain. Let me know what you think.

Also I'm not giving any advice concerning food in here. I can just totally picture Oliver being the kinda guy who makes raw eggs shakes. Everything concerning health benefits and stuff I leave up to you to do your own research and come to your own conclussions.

Plus, I'm a firm believer that pre-Gambit Oliver had a serious problem with alcohol and drugs... just something I feel given some of the information we were provided with and the lifestyle he had. But I'd love to get your take on it.

Chapter title is from the amazing song "Triggers" by Soldier Hard.

Any feedback would be appreciated, it's the only thing that lets me know whether or not anyone is still reading this story, if people like or don't like a chapter and it would just be really nice to know how many people are actually still invested in this story...