She stared into his blue eyes. Part of her was stunned she could even do this anymore. He was supposed to be dead…. Gone. She was so relieved and so angry.

Oliver looked at her, almost vibrating with the force of her feelings. He couldn't blame her for what she felt. Grief was overpowering and impossible to see through.

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

It was as if the sword was thrusting through his ribs again. But almost worse because there was nothing he could pull out to get relief.

Numbly he watched as she spun on her heel and walked away. The staccato of her stride in sync with the pulse of his blood.

Oliver's knees started to buckled, and he blindly reached for the brick. Instead a hand gripped his. Blinking in shattering pain, he met the pale blue eyes of his protégé. Roy.

Nudging his shoulder beneath Oliver's arm, Roy absorbed the taller man's weight. "I'm guessing there's things you haven't mentioned yet."

"Not as such." A sharp exhalation escaped and Oliver grit his teeth, tears springing into his vision.

"Let's get you flat, and you can tell me all about it." Roy supported him to the hidden entrance. He had followed to two, against Dig's suggesting. He was driven to do so for two reasons.

One… Felicity wasn't being fair. She was laying into Oliver as if she had been the one to share a kiss with death. And second… unlike the other two, he saw the limp Oliver was trying to hide. They were so used to him being invincible… Roy knew first hand you can still bleed.

Maneuvering the stairs was an event, but they made it. Oliver had given up trying to the hide the pain, hissing when the movements made his skin feel like it was tearing. Roy got him to the med table, and held an arm out.

"I can't lift you, but it's going to hurt…"

Pressing his lips together, Oliver braced himself on Roy's arm and managed to lift his weight up on to the table. A whimper escaped his throat as the agony spasmed up his chest.

Roy frowned and moved to the supply cabinet. "We can argue about it, or you can take the coat off. Either way, someone needs to see what the psychopath did."

Grimacing, Oliver weighed his words. There merit and logic in the younger man's words. He shrugged out of his coat, and pulled open the buttons of his shirt. He snorted when he heard Roy's muttered expletives.

"Tell me you didn't just use a rappelling arrow while you have a least two puncture wounds that I can see…" He thumped gauze and tape down next to Oliver's leg and grabbed the sanitizing wipes from below the table.

"Okay, I won't. We both know I'd be lying." Oliver grunted as Roy pulled the bandage off his left hip. Almost disconnected from reality, he watched as the kid… No, that wasn't true anymore.

His partner cleaned the wound, and prepped new sutures as Oliver had torn 3 out during his display earlier. Roy muttered as he pulled the thread through Oliver's skin, and tied off the stitches.

A fresh piece of gauze covered the stab wound, and Roy secured it with tape. Glancing at Oliver's face, he held in a sigh when he saw the shuttered look in his eyes. "Show me."

Startled, Oliver met Roy's gaze. Ice blue determination bored into his, daring him to argue. "Show me where he killed you, Oliver." Roy held up a hand to forestall any protest. "You weren't almost killed, Oliver. He really did do it, you just don't know how to stay that way." He flashed a grim smile at his mentor.

Oliver traded his frown for a twisted smile, and moved his hand to a now crimson bandage on his lower ribs. Roy pried the gauze off, tacky with blood. Moving behind the archer, he saw the exit was likewise soaked with blood. "Jesus, Oliver."

"Looks better than it did."

Roy grunted and doused the wounds in antiseptic, raising an eyebrow at Oliver's muttered "fuck". He stitched up both wounds, applied the salve from the island chest, and bandaged them with a double layer of gauze. He sat back on a stool for a moment, cleaning his hands, and gazed at Oliver.

"You know what she said wasn't fair."

An eyebrow raising over suddenly defensive blue eyes was his only response.

"About not letting us know. I'm guessing from the damage, you weren't exactly conscious for a while."

Oliver sighed. He really didn't want to talk about this. And yet… part of him was grateful that someone had finally asked. "The stab to the hip was first. He was toying with me. I don't even remember when he sliced my arm open." He gestured to the raw scar. "The sword went through my chest and then he… "Oliver trailed off, eyes closing as he tried to back away from the mountain.

"He what?"

"The fight happened on a cliff. He said the prayer of the League, pulled the sword out, and pushed me over the cliff. I guess he threw the sword after at me. I don't really remember."

Roy gaped at him; stunned, angry and scared all at once. "He pushed you off a cliff?!" He stood and paced a few feet away before spinning back. "Why aren't you dead?!"

Chuckling carefully, Oliver moved his weight over the edge of the table and stood. "I'm not sure. Two very old friends found me at the bottom, saved my life."

"And you through it was great idea to go swinging around from buildings?" Roy glared at Oliver. "I mean, I knew you could be stupid…"

"There was no time, I had been gone long enough."

"This city doesn't deserve your life. Oliver!" A patient gaze met Roy's after his outburst, and he sighed. Roy slumped down into Felicity's chair and rubbed both hands over his face. "You're going to let her get away with what she said, aren't you?"

Arching an eyebrow, Oliver nodded. "What comes next is so much worse. It's safer if she hates me."

"I don't know about all that, but you need people who believe in you." He stared down Oliver's attempt to protest. "You know I'm right. So, what's the plan?"

Oliver settled into the other chair, and started to explain what he had learned to Roy. Out of anyone, he knew Thea was the most important thing to him. And he'd do anything for her.