Felicity huffed, following him out of the room. He had made his way to the med cart and started unloading supplies. He lowered himself in the chair and began to peel his shirt back off, rolling his eyes as Felicity stalked behind him.

"What did you need on the computer?"

He glanced up at her, raising an eyebrow as if to say why? Accurately understanding his face, she followed up with.

"I just need to make sure you didn't mess anything up."

He went silent for a moment, ignoring her and focusing on the task at hand. He was peeling the gauze off his abdomen and she couldn't remember what they had been talking about. Oliver appeared to be holding his breath as he took a cloth to the wound, attempting to clean it. The stitching that had been applied looked awful. She rushed to his side, realizing the stitching looked awful because he had done it himself.

"Let me help," she said quickly, reaching forward and grabbing his arm. What she hadn't expected was his reaction. The moment her hand made contact with his arm, he jerked backwards violently, knocking into the cart. The loud clang of his body against the metal made her jump.

The sudden movements clearly weren't a great idea. He sucked his breath in sharply through his teeth, his pupils blown as he tried to breathe through and process the pain silently.

After a few moments, his breathing had calmed down and she felt safe to try again.

"Oliver, let me help," she practically begged, reaching forward slowly again. He reached up and grabbed her arm deliberately this time. His grip was firm, but not painful. But clearly strong enough to prevent her from moving that arm any further.

"Don't. Touch Me." He spoke lowly, through gritted teeth.

She recoiled immediately as though he had slapped her. He started to wage a war within his mind. He knew, of course he knew, that she instantly thought his reaction was because of what she had done. Because of the fact that many of these injuries were somewhat her fault. And part of him wanted her to continue to think that. It wasn't often he got to be the one angry with her, and a darker side of him enjoyed making her feel as awful as she had made him feel.

Mostly, he wanted to let her run with that idea because it was better than her knowing the truth. Because the only alternative he could think at the time would lead to her likely feeling immensely guilty.

I don't want to be a woman you love.

The alternative – well, the truth – was that he was so wired and out of control right now that he wasn't entirely sure what his reaction would be if she touched him. She wasn't wrong when they'd had their… incident… with the coms. She had patched him up several times in the past. And Felicity was always insanely cautious. Her touch was soft and careful, as gentle as it could be so as not to cause him further pain.

And even when he hadn't just returned from death's door, he struggled to control himself. After a month of barely being able to tell the difference between dreams and reality, and every dream containing the varying ways they'd reunite upon his return home, only to have her inform him she didn't want this anymore. He couldn't let her touch him.

Because it was her choice. She had moved on. She was with Palmer – he recalled the kiss he'd stumbled upon when he'd made his way to his old office to try to reconcile things with her. Truthfully, he did almost feel bad when he'd told her he loved her before he left. But he was actually fairly certain of his death when he left, and he had to tell her. At least once without the threat of Slade hanging over their heads, and not following the absolutely horrific first date they'd had that had ruined their relationship before it had even started. But she was with Palmer. It was selfish for him to tell her, but he couldn't die without saying the words.

And now he knew, absolutely, that it had been the wrong thing. He shouldn't have done that to her. Because right now, if he told her the truth, she'd still feel awful for not loving him. That was not at all what he wanted. She'd made her decision – and she wasn't wrong. All his loved ones died, and she didn't want to be one. But he wouldn't let her feel guilt about that decision. You couldn't help who you loved. If anyone knew that, he did. Because he didn't want to feel this way about someone he could clearly never have.

She stood there, staring at him, looking to be on the brink of a meltdown. He focused on the task at hand. He added additional stitches to the wound, trying to pull it closed more tightly. His entire body was tense and he was trying his damnedest to not make a sound as he pulled. He grabbed a clean piece of gauze and pressed it back to the wound, tapping the sides and then immediately leaning back, taking a couple of deep breaths before speaking again.

"Felicity," he started slowly. She looked up at him, although it really seemed like she'd rather look anywhere else. "Everything hurts." He was trying to keep his reply as short and to the point as possible. "I was dead. I'm not entirely in control of myself right now, and I will lash out at anything that cause me pain."

Her brow furrowed, not exactly understanding. He cleared his throat, giving slightly more detail.

"I can't hit myself if I cause pain patching it up," he told her. "But I think once tonight I've already injured you because your touch hurt." He took one more pause, watching her come to terms with what he was saying. "I just need you to let me do this myself."

She nodded in understanding and, without saying a word, spun and returned to her computers. He let out a sigh of relief and returned to his wounds.

As he pulled the gauze off his chest, he grimaced at the nasty display before him. Fuck, that is definitely infected. He should have let himself heal more before going back into the field. It wasn't like Tatsu had modern medicine up in that cabin. He wondered briefly if Ra's coated the blade in something toxic, but put it out of his mind.

"Do we have penicillin?" he said out loud, mostly to himself, as he started pulling open drawers of the med cart. Of course, you can't only talk to yourself when someone else is in the room.

"Bottom drawer," she responded absently, turning in her chair to look at him. "Fuck, Oliver, you need to go to the hospital!"

He thought that may be her reaction. It did look awful. He held the back of his hand to his forehead and realized he was definitely running a fever.

"So they can give me penicillin there?" he replied. "If we have it, there's no need."

"No, Oliver, that looks bad. What caused that? I've never seen anything get infected so quickly. You were in a chemical lab – something may have gotten on your skin in the explosion."

He opened and closed his mouth a couple times, trying to sort through the words in his head.

"This. This didn't come from the lab," came his measured response. She looked confused for a moment before realization set in. He could see tears forming in her eyes as she realized…

"That's what killed you." Her voice was barely above a whisper. Her tears would break him. He tore his eyes away from her face.

"And it might again," he said lightly, hoping to get a giggle out of her. Hoping to remind her that he was in fact, alive, and sitting in front of her.

A strangled sob escaped her throat and any hope of returning to her work was gone. She rushed towards him but stopped just shy of the chair.

"You need medical attention. I can take you to the hospital."

"No," he said firmly. She opened her mouth, her face heating up in what he guessed was anger because she thought he was being stubborn.

"I used your computer earlier," he said, completely changing the subject. It worked like a charm as she paused and closed her mouth, looking at him in confusion. Why is he bringing that back up?

"It was stupid of me to make my return to Starling so," he struggled to find the word. "Public."

"It's not like anyone outside our circle knows you're the Arrow," she argued.

"The League does." He could see the exact moment she made the connection. "I owe a life to the League. Either from myself, or from Ra's. So far, that debt has not been paid. I do not need to advertise it. I erased all of the publications relating to the Arrow's return to Starling City."

She looked like she needed a moment to digest what he was saying. He let her go in silence while he applied a topical antibiotic to his chest and covered it with clean gauze. He wrapped his entire torso a few times to provide more stability and was finishing up the ace wrap stabilizing his knee when she finally spoke again.

"But… you're Oliver Queen." He looked at her.

"The concussion wasn't that bad, Felicity." She didn't appreciate his joke.

"No, I mean. You're a public figure. What was the point of deleting all the information? There's no way you'll be able to completely avoid the press."

He opened his mouth and then closed it again. Shit. She made the connection way faster than he had expected.

"Oliver." He almost shivered at the way she said his name. Low and drawn out. In warning. "Oliver, what-?" He cut her off before she could ask. He was trying. He'd been trying so hard since his return to not lie to her. To be fair, he'd been doing that by just avoiding questions or not letting her ask what he knew she wanted to. But he hadn't lied to her.

"I'm heading out." He pushed off the chair and one hand slipped to the med cart with a clang as he almost lost his footing. Fuck, that knee is destroyed. "Are you going to be around, or do you want me to walk you out to your car? It's late."

Early, actually. He was momentarily ironically glad that Palmer had stolen Queen Consolidated from him. Oliver had nowhere he had to be at any specific time anymore, and the longer he could stay off his knee, the better.

She didn't respond with words – she wasn't sure she had any left. However, when she grabbed her purse and then walked to the steps, he understood. She paused there and waited for him to limp across the room. He stopped next to her and she motioned for him to go ahead of her.

She fought back her first instinct, which was to reach out and hold on to his arm to help support him as he struggled up the stairs, but she caught herself at the last minute. Instead, she walked up the steps slowly, right behind him, with her arm outstretched ready to catch him if he fell.

The Next Day

"Where the fuck am I?" he groaned out loud, rolling over. He squeezed his eyes open and shut several times. As his surroundings came into focus, he remembered. He wasn't sure why he had thought this was a good idea, but he recognized the clearing.

Last night, after walking Felicity to her car and watching her take off towards her home, he carefully mounted his Ducati and sped towards the Queen Mansion. He couldn't go home. He knew that. But as far as he knew, no one actually lived at the house right now, which mean no one would be bothered about the grounds.

He pulled his bike into the woods and mindlessly made his way to the clearing. He'd spent a lot of time here when he first returned from Lian Yu. Even the humming of the electricity at night was deafening and the woods were silent.

He fought against the urge to stretch out, knowing that he would very likely rip open his stitches if he did.

I've got to get to the loft. I need to speak with Thea.

After a few moments of just laying there on his back, staring up at the sky, he pushed himself off the ground and got back on his bike to make his way to find Thea.

The loft was empty, which actually may have made this discussion easier. He retreated back down to his bike to head for Verdant. Thankfully, she was sitting at the bar when he walked in.

She looked up at him and when she saw the limp, the smile dropped from her face and she jumped from the stool to rush to him.

"Ollie, what happened?" He saw her about to throw her arms around him in a hug and thankfully was able to put his hand out to motion for her to stop before she reached him.

"I need to talk to you, Speedy," he said simply. "And afterwards, if you hate me, I understand. But I've come to the decision recently that I'm done lying to the people I care about, so I'm finally telling you whether you like it or not."

She coughed out a laugh. "Oh, okay then, sure. Do you need a hand to sit down?"

"We're not sitting down." He motioned with his head towards the back hall. "Come with me."

She watched him type in a code on the keypad. To the door to the basement that he told her was flooded. "But-?"

"Just wait," he said softly. "Go on down."

He followed her slowly down the stairs. As he pulled the switch to power up the foundry, she let out a loud gasp.

"You're…" she trailed off, incapable of keeping her eyes in one place for too long. "You're him." He nodded. "What's wrong?" she asked, noticing his pained expression.

The simplest explanation was to show her. So he pulled his shirt up over his head.

"Jesus, Ollie!" He shrugged. Damn, that hurt.

"I'm the Arrow," he said. "Injuries are expected."

"Are they usually this bad?" she asked worriedly, wringing her hands. She wanted to hug him, but looking at him, held herself back knowing it would just cause him to be in more pain.

"This is… a special occasion. I lied when I said I was in jail." He pointed to the spot from Ra's. "I died. Or well, we think I did? I went to Nanda Parbat and challenged the leader of the League of Assassins to a duel." He paused for a moment for her to take it all in. When she looked ready for him to continue, he did. "I lost."

She snorted, but he could see her eyes watering. "Clearly."

"I don't really remember much for most of the time I was gone. I would have sworn I'd died. But I woke up in a cabin and had an old friend taking care of me. I was in and out for quite a while, and a bit delusional. I came home as soon as I could."

She nodded slowly. "Why now?" He was sure he looked confused. "Why are you telling me now?"

"Primarily, because I decided to take advantage of my… resurrection… and stop lying to the people I love. You're one of two people I've lied way too much to, and I wanted to rectify that as soon as possible. But also, because we need to have a serious discussion about what's coming and I can't have you handicapped by not knowing. Can we sit?" He motioned towards the chairs on the platform.

As she lowered herself into a chair next to the computers, he said immediately, "Don't touch the tech, she'll lose her mind."

"She?"

He nodded. "Yeah, you'll meet the rest of the team soon. So, Speedy, I went to Nanda Parbat to admit to a crime and request a trial by combat." He saw the word crime come out of her mouth silently, questioning. "Sara Lance was murdered. Here in Starling City. Because Sara was a member of the League, someone had to claim responsibility for her death."

He paused here to allow Thea to gather her emotions. The tears were fleeing freely now. Her and Sara were never super close, but she'd been around a bit this last year, and she was practically family. Just because she was a Lance. When she finally appeared to be ready for him to continue, she was shaking her head.

"You didn't kill Sara."

"I did not," he responded, giving her a small smile. "But I know who did. And I refuse to turn them into the League." Her eyes were glued to his face, waiting. "I. Look, I… I need you to let me finish. Completely, okay? You have to let me tell you all of it before you say anything. And don't lie to me about anything, because I basically already know it all."

She was very obviously confused, but nodded her head slowly in agreement.

"The Arrow broke into the loft to confront you," he reminded her. She gave a small nod. "Asking about Sara's death." Another small nod. "I already know you trained with Malcolm. Which, I just have to say – impressive, Speedy. Anyway, that wasn't just us fumbling in the dark for answers. At some point this summer, you came home from Corto Maltese with Malcolm. I don't believe you were here very long."

As if she could already see where the story was going, she started shaking her head. "No, you can't honestly believe that I would…" It was the only thing that made sense in her head. Oliver must think she killed Sara, because there's no way he'd be lying to cover Malcolm.

"Oliver, look, I know I lied to you about going with Malcolm. And obviously, I've been training with him. But you can't think that I would murder Sara. I swear, I never left Corto Maltese!"

"I didn't," he said immediately, reassuring her. "It had never even crossed my mind. Until we ran a DNA test on the murder weapon. And it was an extremely close match to me."

She sucked in a breath, eyes wide as he continued.

"At first, I assumed it was whoever had killed her, just trying to frame me," he admitted to her. "Because I knew, obviously, that I didn't kill her. And then we found out that she was in town doing recon for the League. Looking for Malcolm."

"But we weren't here," she insisted. "Oliver, I swear to you, I didn't come home until you came to Corto Maltese and gave me the plane ticket."

"You didn't know you were home, Thea," he started again. "In Corto Maltese, there is a plant called vitura. It is used to create a drug that essentially puts you under hypnosis. The user is made incredibly susceptible to suggestion, and generally has no memory of what happened while under the influence."

Thea gasped, "You have to be making a mistake. There has to be something else."

He gave her sad smile. "Thea, how do you think I know about the vitura. I confronted Malcolm. He told me what he did."

Immediately, Thea was furious. "Then turn him in!" she shouted. "Why would you sacrifice yourself when you can just turn him over to them?"

"Malcolm thought too far ahead," he admitted. "He planned it all out. He knew Sara was looking for him. He drugged you and had you kill her. And then recorded it. And informed me if I turned him into the League, he would show them the video to prove his innocence."

Thea looked lost. She didn't know how to respond. She didn't want to believe her brother, but she knew he wasn't lying. After a few moments, Oliver reached for her hand and pulled her into his lap. She immediately curled herself into his chest and started sobbing.

"I'm sorry, Thea," he whispered. "I'm so sorry. I never wanted this for you."

After several minutes, Thea finally seemed to be able to calm herself, but made no attempt to move, just clutched to her brother and welcomed the soothing motions of his hands on her back, calming her.

In the silence, he heard the door to the foundry opening. They both pulled away from each other and Oliver gave her a small grin.

"Well, you get to meet a member of the team," he said quietly.

Thea gasped. "You've know the whole time!" she yelled at Roy as he stopped mid-step upon seeing Thea and Oliver.

He looked at Oliver questioningly and he returned a short nod. "I didn't!" Roy insisted. "Not the whole time. It took him ages to tell me who he was!"

Thea glanced up at Oliver and he nodded in confirmation. "In the beginning, I just had him doing recon for me. Because Sin was Sara's friend so he was gathering intel. Even when I first started training him, I did it in mask." Roy took in a deep breath, relieved Oliver was backing him up. "He has known for about me for a while now."

Thea glared at Roy, but both men could tell her heart wasn't really in it. "Asshole."

Roy seemed visibly relaxed, noting there was no real bite in her voice. "Yeah," he agreed with a laugh.

Oliver tapped Thea's back to indicate he was getting up. Thea stood up from her brother's lap and held a hand out to help him up. He took it and pulled himself up, wincing slightly.

"I have more to discuss with you later," he informed her. "But for now, you should probably get back to the club. I interrupted your work when I came in."

She nodded and walked to the stairs. She stopped for a moment at the bottom and turned to look at him. She locked eyes with him and gave him the absolution he didn't even know he needed.

"I'm so proud of you, Ollie," she said. "All those times I was such an asshole to you – calling you flaky and getting mad because you had blown of plans or just disappeared… You were saving someone's life. I'm sorry for all the grief I've given you. I'm just so proud to be your sister."

Oliver looked at his sister in awe. She gave him a wide smile and then turned back and ran up the stairs and into the club.

After a beat, Roy spoke. "So man, you here to train?"

Oliver laughed. "If I try to train right now, that might finally be what puts me in my grave."

Roy nodded in agreement. "So you can be reasonable. Good to know." Oliver raised his eyebrows, recognizing the challenge. "You want to talk about what happened the other night?"

Oliver pinned Roy with a look. He was a bit surprised to see Roy actually pushing him, even though he had no intention of talking about it. But the kid typically only had two settings – blind admiration of the vigilante, or sudden bursts of anger. Seeing him attempting a calm conversation with his mentor, when he knew it was going to be a sore subject, was not something he would expect from him.

"Look man, I know I'm not Dig," he started, recognizing that these conversations were typically reserved for the two of them. "Or Felicity," he added. At hearing her name, Oliver lost all expression. "See, that's what I mean!"

"Roy, there's nothing to talk about," Oliver replied calmly. "It's nothing that involves you."

"But it involves the team, man. Look at yourself! You came back from the dead and then immediately went out and almost died. Are you trying to kill yourself? If you're not in the right mindset to be out with us, it does involve me."

He wasn't wrong. Oliver knew that. But it would be a moot point in a few days anyway. And he wasn't going to tell them what happened. If the team was going to continue on when he left, he couldn't risk breaking the remaining trust that the three had in each other. So he would take the fall again. He took a deep breath and then lied through his teeth without flinching.

"Felicity," he said her name slowly, like it pained him. "and I had a disagreement." He paused, trying to gather his thoughts to word this correctly. Roy opened his mouth, thinking Oliver was going to stop there, but closed it again as Oliver held a finger up. "I was being stupid the other night and I turned my coms link off. And then I almost got myself killed. I'm sorry that I put you and Dig at risk. But I mean, look at me," he motioned to the various injuries covering his body. "I'm a liability now anyway. I'm not really going out into the field for a bit."

"Yeah, but-"

Oliver forced himself to look nonchalant. "Don't worry, Roy. You've seen this a few times. We'll be at each other's throats for a few days, and then everything will go back to normal. I won't go into the field with the team again after what happened a couple nights ago." Of that, he was absolutely certain.

"Good," Roy said firmly. "You know the team suffers when mom and dad are fighting."

Before he could control it, Oliver let out a broken sounding laugh. The dreams – or were they hallucinations – he'd had while recovering flashed through his mind.

Returning to Starling City and rushing into Felicity's arms.

Holding her tightly to him and begging her to spend the rest of their lives together.

Running away together – getting away from the danger in Starling City.

Getting married.

Children.

Growing old.

"See, that!" Roy interjected, maybe a little louder than he intended, breaking Oliver out of his thoughts. "That is what I mean. Look, I know it's not my place."

"Then stay out of it," Oliver interrupted, his voice tight.

Roy continued on, ignoring him, "and I don't know everything that's gone on between the two of you. But you need to get your shit together. That woman is madly in love with you. You need to just tell her how you feel."

At the intense glare Oliver shot him, Roy ducked his head and tried his hardest not to flinch, but he didn't back down, meeting Oliver's eyes in a challenge. Realizing he wouldn't let it go, Oliver took a deep breath, composing himself.

"I did," he said evenly, looking over Roy's shoulder at the wall as if studying it. He pulled his shirt back over his head, making for the staircase. "And she doesn't," he said quietly.

He ignored whatever Roy tried to say and made his way up the steps and out of the foundry. As he approached the Verdant bar, he saw Thea organizing bottles.

Might as well get it all out at once. I'm running out of time.

"So," he started, sitting down on a stool across the bar from her. "I'm leaving."

"Okay, we'll talk later," she muttered distractedly, not looking up from the shelf.

"No, Thea," he started more firmly. "I'm leaving. Starling City."

That got her attention. She turned immediately, staring at him in shock. "What?!"

"As long as I'm alive, the League will come after me. I've already lost to Ra's al Ghul once. I can't let them catch up to me until I know I'm able to defeat him. You can come with me," he offered. "Or you can stay here. And put your skills to use. The team will soon have an opening."

She looked torn. "You told me you were the Arrow just in time to stop being the Arrow?" she asked, brokenly. "Why?"

"I can only leave knowing you're safe," he explained. "I needed you to know the team could handle it. So that you knew who to go to for help when I'm gone." He paused, his expression contemplative.

"Although, if you stay here, Malcolm probably won't come with me," he thought out loud. "Granted, more of a reason for you to know the team. Malcolm will protect you, but they'll protect you from Malcolm."

"You're leaving with Malcolm Merlyn?" she asked incredulously. "After everything you just told me, you trust that man?"

"Not at all," he replied quickly. "But Malcolm has a vested interest in me surviving. And getting rid of Ra's. Ra's wants him dead too. Malcolm knows he can't win. He thinks I can. There's no trust between us. But a mutual understanding that we need each other to take care of Ra's. Malcolm knows the League. Knows how Ra's fights. I need that. And he needs Ra's dead."

She looked deep in thought. Oliver simply leaned his head forward, closing his eyes. Exhausted.

"Where will you go?" Thea finally asked, her voice no more than a whisper.

Not even looking up or opening his eyes. "I can't stay in one place for too long, so it will be a lot of moving around. Nothing will be permanent."

Thea looked hesitant. He knew what her answer would be.

"Ollie, I-"

"Speedy, I was serious when I said it's up to you. I just want to know that you're safe."

"I don't…" she paused for a breath before continuing. "I'm finally resettled in Starling City. I don't know if I'm ready to leave again. And life on the run is…"

"Not fun," Oliver finished, his voice soft and full of understanding. "I have ways you'll be able to contact me – Captain Lance has a way." That got her attention. "He knows. I told him last night. And he knows about Sara. He's a good man and I trust him."

She nodded slowly. "When?"

"I'll be around for a few more days. And I won't leave without saying goodbye," he assured her.

When there was nothing left to say, Oliver stood up and gave her a small wave before walking out the door, climbing on his Ducati, and speeding away.