I meant to have this chapter out so long ago but a lot of things came up that put me behind on all my stories. Hopefully, the next one will be up in a reasonable amount of time. Thanks for all the wonderful reviews, I really appreciate the feedback.

Roy knew the moment he opened his eyes and met the familiar walls of the hospital, not to mention the ache travelling throughout his body, that things were only going to get worse the second Thea walked into the room. His girlfriend was already unhappy with how many times he ended up getting hurt, the reason being his own doing but honestly, he couldn't just stand there and not help someone when they were in trouble.

When he made an attempt to move the pain increased, causing his head to hit the pillow stationed behind him and a groan to pass his lips. His forehead throbbed and his wrist, which he glanced over to see a cast on, was sprained, not broken since he knew the difference between the two, how much more discomfort a cracked bone caused.

His vision was hazed by the tiredness and eluded sleep over the past week or so. Ever since the Hood vanished crime increased, although the blame really fell on the state of the Glades. He heard rumors about a woman dressed in black taking out criminals but never actually saw her. Regardless of her appearance, he needed to be out there as well and take care of things until the vigilante returned and then, maybe he could help him.

His plan wasn't foolproof but it was the best he was able do and besides that, Roy had to do something with his time. He was helping Thea fix up Verdant, the repairs needed were almost complete and she nearly had everything up to date, however, work was simply work. Of course, being there with her was a good thing. He couldn't sit back and do nothing even if she disagreed with him.

Roy shifted to an upright position and looked over at the clock on the wall. It was late but he was positive Thea would be here shortly with a lecture already brewing, he was sure of that. His ambitions were morally correct, strung from the life he lived as a child and the one he found himself in now. He knew how Starling's citizens would react and as he predicted, the ones who lost everything took from those who had even a morsel more. It was survival of the fittest, Darwinism at its worst and finest.

When he heard the sound of clanking heels against the smooth flooring, he leaned back, letting his eyes skim the ceiling. Subconsciously he counted the tiles from the door to the window. He only got about halfway across before a knock was made against the wooden surface. Veering his gaze, he caught sight of her expression, mixed with concern and apprehension.

"Roy, I came over as quickly as possible, are you alright?" she immediately asked, her body moving towards him. A relief filled sigh left her lips upon seeing him, only a couple of bruises here and there, one big mark on his cheek. The doctor filled her in when he brought her to his room, so she knew the extent of his injuries without having to ask.

"Fine, I just got a little banged up," he explained. Roy spoke almost languidly, like he over used that line too many times. Impulsiveness ran through his veins and the lighthearted smile, although it didn't do much to ease her, played around his lips in hopes of ceasing her worries and perhaps passing his wounds to be nothing more than light and painless.

"You were out fighting again weren't you?" She then shook her head and nearly rolled her eyes. He didn't even have to reply, in fact she didn't give him the chance. "We've gone over this so many times already. I know you want to help but getting yourself beat up, that's not how to do it. It's like you enjoy giving me a heart attack or something."

The raw emotion was evident in Thea's voice, even though held in an even manner. The way she placed her fingers on her temples and turned around proved how upset she really was, unable to face him until a heavy breath was taken. The silence was thick, the conversations and movements going on outside barely registered in either of their ears.

Roy looked down and drummed his fingers against his knee. "You know that's not true. Besides, it's really not as bad as it looks. I'll be out of here in an hour and back at the club tomorrow." He had a hard time meeting her gaze, for she could always read him from a single glance. It was welcoming but also too much when he wanted to mask his distress.

"And you know that's not what I care about," she stated, referring to work. Her arms crossed, fingers lightly clenching the fabric of her shirt. "You are not the vigilante, Roy. You don't have to prove anything, not to me, not to anyone." Thea had to stress the last word, had to try to get him to understand that he was good enough.

"It's not about that," he corrected with a quick motion. He didn't expect her to be fine with what he was doing, in reality he knew getting hurt did him no good. Pressing his lips together, Roy gestured for her to come closer to the bed since he couldn't move around freely yet. "I'm not going out and looking for trouble if that's what you think. But people need someone like him."

Her eyes closed for a moment prior to her approaching him. When she reached the bedstead, he took hold of her hand, the contact providing comfort and a feeling of security. "Why does it have to be you? We went over this the first time we tried finding the vigilante, which we never even saw him once after weeks of looking. You don't owe him anything."

Roy looked down at their interlocked fingers, knowing he needed her to be there but he couldn't give up on locating the hero. Upon the next verse he spoke more vigor was detectable. "He saved my life, I owe him everything. I told you before, I don't know why but I feel connected to him. I can't explain it." Still, he doubted the man behind the hood felt the same or even if he remembered who he was.

Thea let out a heavy breath and took a step away, however, didn't let her hand slip from his completely. "It's like you have a death wish or something," she muttered, having to hold back the little bit of water that wanted to spill from her eyes. She simply couldn't handle another loss. "Look, for all we know he died during the earthquake, no one's seen him since."

Her main instinct as of late was to run away from her past and her problems, but hold onto what and who she had, right now was Roy and the club. Oliver wasn't around and hasn't even called to check in, not like she expected him to after he lost his best friend. Moira was a whole other issue she didn't even want to get into. It was so easy to hide from the secrets, lies, and the half-truths rather than facing them head on.

Beyond doubt she didn't know everything. There were still things people kept from her, although she would have liked to think differently. And wanted to believe the people she loved would never suppress something huge from her but she knew her mother and Moira Queen always had her mouth sealed shut about one thing or another. In the end, Thea let things be, she didn't plan on visiting Iron Heights anyway.

"He's still alive. I can feel it. I'm sorry for making you worry, I am, but what would you do if you saw a bunch of guys beating up a kid? He couldn't have been more than fourteen years old," Roy explained, catching the way her shoulders fell and how she turned enough just so he couldn't see her face. Those were all clear indications depicting how upset she was.

"Call the police. That's what they're here for," she then expressed in an upheaved manner. It took a small number of seconds for her to simmer back down to the same level. "We tried looking for the vigilante for so long before, I didn't get your reasons but I still came along. What, are you hoping if you stuck close to the people he went after long enough you'll run into him? I don't understand what you're expecting."

"All I want to do is help people. I grew up with nothing and I never thought about anyone other than myself until I met you. And when I was saved, the Hood gave me a second chance. I thought no one cared if I died. I don't even think I did at that point." It wasn't a hard thing for him to admit to her, probably because Thea was easy to talk to and actually heard him when he spoke, unlike others who passed off what he said.

The youngest Queen took a seat on the bed, swallowing the lump forming in her throat. "Every single time I hear my phone ring and you're not there, my mind automatically jumps to the worst conclusion. I lost Oliver once, my dad, and Tommy. I can't lose you too." Her chest throbbed at the mere mention of their names and she was hardly able to conceal the way her lips pulled down.

Although it pained him to move, he brought his arms around her and held her closely. "That's never going to happen. I love you and I'm not going anywhere. You never have to worry about that," Roy said, as he was very much conscious of what happened in her life. Of course, every word was true, seeing as she meant the world to him.

The sound of his voice, even if it was a bit sad, warmed her heart, causing a small tentative smile of her own to form. It was funny how, even in the darkest of situations, he could still make her feel better. "I love you too. But if you keep this up who knows what will happen. Next time it might be more than a sprained wrist and must I remind you how many visits to the police station you had?"

He pulled away some and let his forehead rest on hers. "I'll tone it down, okay? But you can't expect me to keep walking if someone's getting hurt. I saved you from those two guys hanging around my place, remember? And I even had to have a needle stuck in my arm," he mumbled into the space between them, chuckling just a tad at the memory.

"No matter what I say, I can't stop you." Thea turned away by the smallest amount, still keeping the minor quantity of proximity between them. "If anything, promise me you won't do anything that will get yourself killed, although I would like you to stop in general. Any other girl would drop you in a second, Harper. You better know how lucky you are," she added in a slight tease.

"Trust me, I'm well aware," he said right before he closed the space between them, sharing a tender kiss. He drew back some and rested his hand on her cheek. "How about you stay until I'm allowed to leave? I tend to get lonely without you." He threw in a pleading look just for good measure, it always helped him out in the past and should be as infectious now.

"Alright, fine," Thea told him, snatching the remote on the other side of the bed. "But I get to pick what we watch on TV." After he gave a somewhat reluctant nod, as she was sure to pick something he didn't want to watch, she shifted her position until she was lying next to him, his arm hung over her shoulder. It wouldn't take that long for the doctor to come in but she wanted to enjoy the time they had together, when they weren't arguing over the same things and purely happy being in each other's presence.

Malcolm stood there silently. There wasn't much he could do at this point and honestly, he hoped Tommy never had to face Ra's al Ghul. He was skilled but also very dangerous. Not many were able to endure his training, at least not with ease. When lessons began between the two of them, he remembered every word spoken, every exchange made as if it happened yesterday.

He wasn't surprised when Ra's suddenly asked everyone to clear the room, it was needed to ensure concentration. Although he was reluctant to leave his son when he was hardly free from the drawback caused by the Lazarus Pit, Malcolm abided the words spoken, exited when instructed. Once the space was empty of everyone, it only left Tommy standing before the legionary man, only known by few and feared by most.

Ra's made no attempt to move, simply stood his ground and observed the youngest Merlyn. His wavering gaze resembled Malcolm's yet held no ounce of anger or vengeance, in fact there wasn't much he could draw from them. Nonetheless, he turned his head up the smallest amount. "As I asked, are you ready to begin?" he questioned, his voice remaining calm.

"Right now?" Tommy immediately inquired. "I don't know the first thing about-" Before he could finish his sentence, his back hit the ground, his gaze on the wooden ceiling above them. A striking pain struck the moment he struck the flooring, amplifying the strain he already felt on his muscles. It was unbelievable how fast his movements were, invisible to the untrained eye.

"When in battle does an opponent wait for the other to be ready? No, they make the first move without hesitation." Ra's took a step and offered his hand to help him up before regaining his steady composure. "Fighting is not about whose stronger, it's about using your opponent's strength against them, putting enough power in a single strike to knock your enemy down or if needed, kill them in an instant."

Tommy let out a substantial breath, steadying himself once he was on his own two feet again. He didn't know anything about how Oliver became a skilled fighter but he was about to find out exactly how much hard work he endured. Perhaps he should have given his friend more credit. Neither of them were granted a choice in the matter, both stranded and away from home.

Ra's allowed him a moment before speaking again. "You may not be able to die by mere injury, serious or otherwise, but pain can still be inflicted. You can suffer the same. If I were to send a one punch," he stated while bringing his arm out and stationing it by his face in means of showing him. "You wouldn't react in time. You must anticipate you challenger's movements, be able to block the blow and counter it right away." He drew back his hand and reset his posture.

"I'm guessing this isn't going to be anything like The Karate Kid," he mildly stated despite the weightiness of the situation. It was always easier to make a comment such as that one to lift the tension. However, it only seemed to increase it. Tommy looked down, his fingers rubbing the wrist used to propel him on his back earlier, and let out a sigh.

"Do you always make jokes during serious situations?" The question hung in the air, an answer not expected. "I had a pupil once, a man who lost both his parents around the same age you were when your mother was killed. Unlike you, he held in his anger, used it to hide his guilt but here, he learned to confront it, to use it to his advantage."

"Who is this person you and my dad keep bringing up?" His curiosity got the better of him, as it would for anyone. He only received tidbits of information throughout the few days he spent in this building. "I don't' know all that much but my father said he betrayed you." Perhaps part of him merely wanted to test his boundaries, while the other wanted to remain cautious.

"I believe you heard of him. Just like your city has the Hood, Gotham has its own vigilante, someone the people living there regard as a hero. Whenever I hear of him, I do not see what they do. Who I recall is someone much like yourself and Malcolm," he explained, allowing his mind to drift back to the time spent with Bruce Wayne, to the many discussions they shared.

"I'm not like them, I am nothing like my father," Tommy insisted, though the rest of his words to further prove his point fell flat. Even when he held a gun up to his dad, his hand shook and when threatening to shoot, he took a step back instead of firing the weapon. Cruel violence wasn't in his nature, it never was. He always played the part of the stereotypical rich kid. Spending money on whatever he wanted and being with a different girl every night.

Of course, he changed and was no longer the guy everyone pegged him to be. Having Oliver die, come back into his life, and be the vigilante he almost found himself resenting him, which took a toll on their friendship. And between his time with Laurel, being in love with her to break things off so she could be happy, although wanting nothing more than to be with her, he learned a lot.

His father, however, surprised him the most. There wasn't a day he didn't remember how it felt to suddenly have the world torn out from under him, to wake up the next morning and not only have his mom gone but find out Malcolm disappeared after her funeral. It was hard and solace could only be found with the Queen's but he couldn't bring himself to intervene constantly. Instead he took the world on his own but faced it with his friends.

Ra's paused for a second to take in what was said, his hands coming together behind him. He took a few steps, a half circle around him made prior to a lethargic raise of his brow. "No, you have the potential to be even greater. You are young and have the ability to learn quickly, but your movements are careless and hasty at best. If you are to learn anything today it will be this, the will to act."

Tommy didn't have time to comprehend what he meant before another strike was made. He managed to block the first two but still ended up hitting the ground. The process repeated itself about five rounds, each one being told to try again, until he was able to dodge and maneuver his way around. He was able to get a hit in but it was easily deflected and caused a rather painful twisting of his arm as a counter.

"This is impossible," Tommy expressed in frustration. "How exactly is fighting you teaching me anything? I've been training for over an hour now and all I've got to show for it is a bunch of bruises." He was at the peak of exhaustion at this point and aggravated beyond belief. His chest heaved as he placed his hands over his eyes and took a few paces away, needing a second to breathe.

Understanding his annoyance, he made a gesture for him to come back. With some reluctance he approached and Ra's stationed himself in front of him. "I want you to concentrate on my movements, anticipate what I'm going to do and stop me. Observation is key, Mr. Merlyn. Your eyes must take in your opponent, his stance, weapon of choice if any, but you must always mind your surroundings as well."

"When you're an assassin it is kill or be killed, in your case you cannot die, however being captured and tortured is a possibility," Ra's went on to say. "Know this though, the secrets of the Lazarus Pit must never be revealed no matter what. Of course, you needn't worry about that at the moment. Hold your concentration. I don't expect you to get the hang of this right away. You will spend months training and honing your skills, progress takes effort."

"What if I can't do it in the end?" Tommy questioned, referring to the killing aspect. It strained his legs to stand still and his heart was beating rapidly against his chest, but he managed to ask without sounding too winded. "I'm well aware that I have no choice when it comes down to it but I…" His sentence drifted, unable to add the part of not wanting to be a murderer, the very thing he accused his best friend of being.

With a gentle shift, the leader of the League picked up his sword, which was placed off to the side, unsheathed it and pressed the blade against Tommy chest in a quick motion. "Imagine this weapon coming straight at you, your enemy holding the intent to kill. Do you not strike back simply because your moral status? Do you allow it to plunge through your flesh because you won't do what he is capable of? Or do you save yourself and sacrifice the life of another for your own? Let me tell you something, your foe won't think twice about making the final move and you shouldn't either. It's how people are."

Tommy swallowed thickly, the pressure of the blade removed shortly after. His body was still tense and his feet frozen in place. He didn't have to give a response for one wasn't needed. As much as it irked him and turned his stomach, he grasped the point he made. For now all he could do was push the idea aside and keep it at bay until it came back up.

With that said, they resumed. It was the same thing over and over again. Tommy was knocked down on multiple accounts and every once in a while blocked a blow before he could get hit. Eventually, he was beginning to get the hang of it after another hour passed. No relent was given but it was never expected from the start. Each time he fell they would keep going with no moments spared

Having only pure adrenalin to work from, Tommy forced himself to keep his focus on what was ahead of him, not the aching he endured or the pangs of spiked pain that came after every misstep. His only motivation was the thoughts of the people he left behind. Even if he could never freely return to see them, the thought of what they must be going through because he was supposed to be dead somehow fueled him.

He wasn't angry for what happened, he'd risk his life for Laurel all over again without regret, anything to keep her safe, rather he was irritated with himself. He could have listened to Oliver instead of arguing, talked things out with his girlfriend before making an irrational resolve, spent more time with Thea, and listened to his dad when he wanted to talk.

But the past couldn't be changed and all of those things were as he left them. Mistakes were made and unfixable, no more apologies could be given or received. Tommy had to accept things the way they were and concentrate on where he was. The League of Assassins wasn't an ideal choice but it was all he had. When Oliver was stuck on Lian Yu, he made his decisions based on what he had to work with and so must he.

Ra's leaned to the left, missing a punch by far, however, he brought his hand out to stop him. "That would have reached me if I was an ordinary man with slightly higher skills. For today, we will make that your goal," he insured. Setting an objective should help, seeing how far he made it. "Remember how it felt, the way you deciphered my actions. Now do it again."

After spending all day training, Tommy headed back to his room, tired enough to go to sleep right away but didn't even get the chance to sit down before Malcolm came to talk to him. He led him outside the temple but didn't exceed the preset boundaries for the new recruits. Snow covered the ground, leaving deep traces of footprints as they walked.

Tommy brought his collar up to help keep warm and dug his hands into his pockets. Although he was still extremely sore, getting some fresh air seemed like a good idea. The chill and brisk winds sent a shiver down his spine, which wasn't easy to ignore despite the fact that his father seemed completely unfazed by any of it. Eventually they stopped at a clearing where the small village below could be seen.

"So, why did we have to come all the way out here?" Tommy asked, glancing down at the people walking around below, some huddling together to keep warm. He was told the ones who live there never leave, most preferring the secluded lifestyle the terrain provided them with. From where he stood, it didn't seem greatly populated or wealthy.

"It's one of the few places we can talk without worrying about other people," Malcolm informed him, his gaze resting on the same scene. "Ra's said you're doing rather well for your first day, though I'm not surprised. I hoped you would be able to hold your own." He anticipated positive feedback and was glad to hear it since many don't last long against him.

"Does getting your ass kicked count as good now? Because last time I checked it still meant the same thing." His reply was somewhat sarcastic, which simply personified his agitation and fatigue. He never had to battle for his life before and getting into bar fights, like he found himself in on many occasions, didn't compare in any way.

"You'll get used to it," he mildly stated. A disheveled expression traveled his face, as he wasn't fully happy for the way things turned out, having Tommy be a member of the League wasn't something he ever wanted. The blame, however, rested on no one but himself. "Ra's al Ghul has been a master for centuries, he knows how to teach people, where to stress the training and so forth. You'll be fine."

Not really wanting to get into it either, Tommy crossed his arms and leaned against one of the larger rocks. "I'm sure that's not the only reason you dragged me here. You always have another motive." His gaze slipped towards the older man, catching the nod made in reply only to be followed by an interval of silence, neither of them saying a word.

Malcolm was unsure how this conversation would go. He already brought up painful events and memories and wished he didn't have to mention another. "I want to talk to you about Oliver. He isn't considered an enemy of the League's, seeing as he hasn't done anything to gain much of their attention. Keeping his identity a secret is your decision. I've chosen to not say anything."

"Why would anyone care who's under the hood?" Tommy asked, disregarding how difficult it was to mention his friend. From his point of view it didn't seem to matter to the people living here. "Besides, Ollie's all the way in Starling City. It's not like he's going to find out about this place or that I'm alive. He's not a threat." Plus, their goals were mentioned to him by Talia the other day.

"Actually, he's not. He's back on the Lian Yu, left before your funeral." He brought his hands together and took a breath, giving a reply to the question Tommy was sure to ask. "I have certain individuals who are still loyal to me back home. They keep me updated on what's going on, with the city or whoever I want to keep tabs on. It comes in handy."

Tommy sighed, knowing Oliver was on the island by choice this time. He must have been taking his death badly, otherwise he would have stayed. He had a chance to go as well when his friend supposedly died but instead remained and looked after Thea and did his best to comfort Laurel while she was stuck between feeling angry and upset.

The truth is, he would have felt better if he got away, left to deal with losing Oliver on his own but he couldn't do that. Tommy never let himself properly mourn, choosing to distract himself instead. It was easier that way. Besides, he had to make sure everyone else was okay. Oliver's family was a wreck and so was Laurel's since they also lost a daughter. "Why are you telling me this?"

"It's difficult to completely detach yourself from the life you once lived." The answer was the truth, seeing as he remained very much involved to the place he lived all his life. "Ra's allows me to maintain contact because Merlyn Global Group is a good asset to have. If needed the company could be used for an array of things. Basically, I just want you to know about it. Sometimes I have to leave to take care of a few things."

The idea of not having his father around didn't settle right. Even if he was surrounded by others, it felt like he was alone. Yet, he didn't let his emotions through as he was good at hiding them after having years to master the deception. "Okay, but what do you actually do while you're there?" Tommy asked, mainly out of curiosity.

"That's something for a different discussion. There's, however, one more thing we have to talk about," he then said, gaining a raised brow from his son. "Although everyone believed Sara Lance died in the Queen's Gambit, she is indeed alive and was a member of the League until she ran away to see her family. I don't know all the details, but I'll tell you what I do know."

Is anyone else happy that Tommy will be back for a flashback in episode two of the next season, because I know I am. I just hope he's there longer than a few minutes. I can't wait. As for my story, the training officially started but I really won't be focusing too much on it, at least not all at once. I might do flashbacks later if necessary. Again, sorry for the long wait. Please review!