"The thought that comes out is, maybe there's a good reason it's a secret."

~ Ben Rudolph

. . .

Felicity had picked up a major shoot-out going on at the border of Starling City proper and the Glades. So, Oliver had suited up and headed out there. He was careful, taking the rooftops, not wanting to accidentally get shot by spooking the police. Felicity had attempted to radio ahead to inform Lance that he'd be on scene, but he hadn't picked up his phone. When Oliver finally arrived, he realized why. The police were far from idle. They were all either mobilizing or returning fire. On the street below him, a mini war raged.

The police held a line, but the shooters were holed up inside an abandoned storefront. Oliver carefully moved down until he found a good line of sight. He wanted to help them, but he didn't want to kill anyone. Since becoming the Arrow, he'd really strived not to kill. Not unless it was absolutely necessary.

"Has anyone been injured, Felicity?" he asked on comms as he readied his shot. Oliver suddenly wondered if he'd brought enough tranquilizer arrows, he'd specially filled them before leaving the Foundry.

"Three are already en route to Starling General."

"Keep me updated," Oliver told her as he let off his first arrow. From his count, there weren't that many people in the building. He had a feeling that they'd just gotten lucky when the first police car had arrived. His target went down without a hitch, but it seemed to warn the others. Oliver counted five others as they backed up and he didn't have a line of sight suddenly.

Letting out a frustrated sigh, Oliver looked around to see what would be a better vantage point that he could safely and stealthily move to. He could see Lance from his position and knew that he had to know he was there, Oliver just hoped that the police KNEW that he was on their side.

Eventually, he found a new spot. The only problem with this spot was that it left him vulnerable and it also could cause problems if the police moved their positions unexpectedly. So, he found himself taking an extraordinary amount of time to set up a shot in order to really take in everything in the field in front of him. Oliver almost wanted to call Lance and ask him to have the cops move back, so he didn't have to worry about them being in the way. Of course, he was shooting tranquilizer arrows, but the cops still wouldn't appreciate him shooting them instead of the bad guys.

He let loose another arrow, hit another bad guy, but then he found himself being shot at. Oliver didn't really have any place to take cover and found his arm getting grazed by a bullet. He'd survive. "Felicity, I'm going to need medical supplies ready when I get back," he said taking a moment to work through the pain. He knew it was better that the bullet wasn't IN his arm, but it wasn't just a cut either. The bullet had definitely hit him; it had sliced through the leather of his jacket and had torn open his arm. Blood was spilling out, but not too much to be worried about. He knew that he wouldn't be doing himself any favors though once he went back to work…a bow took two hands and all of the muscles in both arms.

"What? Are you okay? Do you need me to come get you?"

"It's not serious," Oliver explained.

"Nothing's ever serious with you."

Pause.

Felicity's voice came back over his comms quickly. "I only meant…as far as injuries go… You could be bleeding to death and call it a scratch."

He smirked; Felicity never ceased making him smile. Oliver turned his concentration back to the building and was preparing his arrow on the bowstring when a barrage of bullets came at him. Oliver dropped down and lay completely flat in his hiding spot, there really wasn't any other way of hiding himself. It wasn't the best or even a good spot, but it was the best line of sight for the time being. Shards of brick sprayed everywhere and he turned his face to the side to keep it from falling into his eyes.

Patience was a virtue…

…and sometimes he even had it.

Oliver popped up after a moment and let off two more arrows. Each one sent off pain signals throughout his arm and shoulder. Another string of shots rang out and he went to grab another arrow when pain started to radiate through his entire body. He dropped the arrow and found himself struggling to stay upright in his spot. Oliver told himself that if he was going to pass out because the pain was overwhelming all of the sudden.

His arm shouldn't hurt so much…

As he looked down, it was like his head had finally made peace with where the pain was actually originating from. He'd been shot in the chest. Oliver forced himself to collapse there in the landing of the fire escape he'd been using as his vantage point. The last he'd seen of the police, they were charging the building, there was nothing more he could do now anyways…

"Felicity…" he barely got out as he closed his eyes.

"Oliver!"

"It's…more…serious…."

"Oliver! Talk to me! What happened? Where are you? Oliver! OLIVER!"

His eyes opened at one point, it was like he KNEW that someone was there with him. Oliver blinked wildly, but he couldn't bring the figure hovering over him into focus. He didn't know how long he'd been there propped up against the fire escape, but he knew that he was screwed unless the figure was either Felicity or Diggle.

"Oliver, it's going to be okay…"

. . .

The sound of tapping first alerted him that he wasn't where he last remembered. The tap had a metallic ring and he felt a slight vibration in what he was sure was the metal table in the Foundry. "Digg?" he whispered as he slowly tried to open his eyes. The lights in the Foundry were lowered or off? Oliver wasn't sure. The lighting seemed to be coming from somewhere else. It DID make it easier for him to open his eyes, but took him longer to focus on who was at his bedside tapping.

"Nope."

Oliver frowned at the voice. He KNEW that voice…and that voice was not one that belonged in the Foundry. Slowly, he turned his head and found Quentin Lance sitting there in a chair, leaning forward, and tapping a pen against the table. He looked unfazed, yet he was covered in blood. Oliver had a feeling that it was his blood, especially since he could see the bag of his blood that was hanging up on the IV stand. He realized then that he was stripped down and was only lying there clothed from the waist down, no hood or mask to conceal his identity.

"Where's Felicity?" he asked as calmly as he could even though it took effort to remain calm and to speak.

"She's changing…and I think showering? I'm not quite sure, all I know is she's washing up," Quentin told him matter of factly. He made a face, as if, trying to remember what Felicity had said to him before. "She said she was going to wash up…she was freaking out about the blood being all over her. She's a GOOD girl, you know that, right?"

"I know," Oliver said.

"And you bring her all into this?"

"She had a choice."

There was a beat of quiet between them for a moment.

"So…are you two dating yet?" Quentin asked without looking at Oliver.

Oliver was so confused. Had he hit his head? He didn't remember hitting his head. A concussion could possibly explain this weird warped reality he was experiencing…or maybe he was just hallucinating? He didn't know which one was really the most likely. He shook his head for a moment, but nothing happened. Quentin Lance was still there, but now had a confused expression on his face.

"Are you having problems? Because I promised Felicity I'd watch you," he told Oliver quite seriously.

Crap.

This was one vivid hallucination or a really severe concussion…or both.

"You're not real," Oliver told him.

"Wow!" Lance exclaimed and let out a chuckle. He leaned back in his chair. "Maybe we should have taken you to the hospital to have your head checked out! Though, I doubt they'd take your normal motorcycle accident BS."

"I'm hallucinating…or concussed—"

"What?!" Felicity's voice echoed and seemed to be raised an octave higher than normal.

Oliver tried to sit up, but she was there, pushing him back down flat. She was gentle, but looked so worried…almost like she was going to cry.

"What happened?" she asked as she turned towards Lance.

Maybe he was seeing Lance, but it was really Diggle? Or Roy? Or Sara? Or Laurel? Anyone else really…

"He thinks I'm not real," Lance told her.

Felicity turned back to him and he waited for her to explain everything to him. "What DO you remember?"

"The shoot out," Oliver told her and made a face as he tried to remember and pain bubbled up. "I had to switch spots…to get a better vantage point. I was shot at…and at the end of it…I took one to the chest."

"What else?"

He looked up at her and then he tried to push through his memories to find something more. "I passed out for a while…and someone was there… Diggle?"

"No," Felicity said gently. "Not Diggle." She looked over at Lance. "Detective Lance…"

"But he knew—"

"I didn't tell him, I mean…I guess I did…but it was completely…by accident!" she defended as she held up her hands. "But you're right, he knew you were the Arrow then…"

"I've known for a while," Lance spoke up. "I just… It's easier sometimes not to KNOW that the Arrow is a REAL person, especially a person I KNOW."

Oliver closed his eyes and took a moment to really take that in. The only person in the Lance family that DIDN'T know he was the Arrow now was Dinah Lance. Crap. He'd really NEVER intended to tell ANYONE…and then Diggle…and then Felicity…and then Sara…Barry…and Roy…and- He felt like his secret wasn't a secret anymore.

"I still don't understand," Oliver mumbled.

"We've had phone calls with Detective Lance before," Felicity started to explain.

"I told you to call me Quentin," he told Felicity.

She smiled at him for a moment, then looked back at Oliver, and continued. "We've stopped talking mid-call in order to turn on the TV and watch a news update or to look something up…or whatever…"

"And during those times…no one was smart enough to mute the phone, so I heard whenever she'd call you Oliver."

Oliver opened his mouth to say something and then closed it. He was certain that even without his name being dropped, that Quentin Lance would have figured it out sooner or later. It was already getting hard enough with him knowing about Sara being the Canary… Eventually, he'd put all the pieces together. He just hadn't expected it to be NOW. He also had half expected him to be cuffing him and locking him away in jail…more out of being personally pissed off at him than in a professional capacity.

"Oops?" Felicity offered with a small smile.

"You know, I'm not stupid," Quentin started to lecture. "I would have figured it out—"

"I am certain that you would have," Oliver said with a smile. He paused and decided now was the best time to change subjects. "So…if Diggle's not here, then how did I get patched up?"

"Diggle explained it over the phone and Detective," Felicity said and then stopped. "I mean Quentin. He helped me. Luckily, we still keep everything that we need down here…though I still think we need things that scan things…like limbs and heads to make sure that they're not broken."

"She was amazing…and she was worried sick," Quentin told him directly. "And I don't like it…"

"Excuse me?"

Lance looked up at Felicity. "What?"

"You don't like that I was amazing and worried about Oliver?"

"Well, I see how you two look at each other…"

Felicity was suddenly looking away.

Right.

How was it that everyone else seemed to have seen that before he had?

"So…inquiring minds want to know, are you two dating?" Lance asked again. "Because IF you are," he went on and looked back to Oliver. "You better know that if you pull any crap, I'm going to be all over your ass. She may not be MY daughter, but you better be damned sure that I'll come after you like she is!"

Crap.

Was he positive that Lance was REALLY not a hallucination?

. . .

The End.