Willoffire123: I friggin love this show.

Thea: Is that why you decided to abandon all your other projects to show everyone how messed up my brother is?

Oliver: Hey!

Tommy: She's got a point, dude.

Willoffire123: I am not abandoning anything yet. I just want to start something new right now. I don't own Arrow.

Tommy:…

Harry Potter: You're supposed to say 'on with the chapter'.

Willoffire123: Harry! I haven't seen you in four years! How have you been?

Harry Potter: On cloud nine.

Willoffire123: Yeah?

Harry Potter: Yeah, because you weren't there.

Willoffire123: He totally missed me.

Thea: Is she always this blind?

Harry Potter: You get used to it.

Tommy: Um, on with the chapter?

Moira

"Moira, I'd like you to prepare yourself. The Oliver you lost may not be the Oliver they found."

20 percent of his body was covered in scar tissue. Her beautiful baby boy, the one she thought was gone forever, was alive. Now, instead of life and death, only a thin sheet of glass separated the two of them. Oliver stood motionless, his back facing his mother and his doctor. When he'd arrived at Starling City General, Doctor Chen said that he'd been almost incoherent and had attacked two EMT's before they could sedate him. He'd then spent two days in the hospital before his doctor declared him stable enough for visitors. Now, Moira was taking her baby home, with or without Chen's approval. She waited five years, she would not wait any longer.

Moira Queen knew that after five years on a deserted island, her son, Oliver, would be shaken. Seeing him standing there, motionless and rigid, she was almost afraid that if she approached her son, he would shatter like glass.

Oliver turned as she approached him anyway. Moira waited with baited breath for him to make the first move.

Oliver's eyes were like broken glass. That didn't scare Moira though. No, what scared her the most was when Oliver turned around, he didn't seem to show any recognition at all to his mother's face.

"Oliver?" she asked hesitantly, terrified for her baby, for the parts of him that were gone and fearful for what might be left.

Something in Oliver's wooden face slacked at the sound of her voice.

"Mom," he breathed. His voice was thin and as fragile as glass.

"Oh," Moira sighed and embraced her boy in a hug, "Oh, my beautiful boy."

Moira felt her heart drop when her own baby flinched at her touch, almost as if he would shatter at the slightest touch.

"The Oliver you lost may not be the one they found."

Dr. Chen's words resonated in her mind.

"Come, Oliver. Let's go home."

Oliver followed, silent and obedient.

Moira knew Dr. Chen was right. She knew that something had changed her child on that island.

That stormy night, when she and Walter entered his room to find him curled in a ball on the floor by his open window he almost killed her because of a nightmare.

"Mom, I-I'm so sorry I d-didn't mean to," he spluttered after scrambling away from his mother to a corner, panting and refusing to make eye contact with her or Walter.

"It's alright, sweetheart," she said between gasps, and she meant it, "It's alright."

Oliver still wouldn't meet her eyes. He held his soaked, muscled arms in front of his face as if him blocking his view of his mother and stepfather would prevent him from whatever nightmare he was thinking of.

Moira took her rain-soaked son into her arms.

"Moira-," Walter started to warn her. God, why couldn't she share his common sense?

Oliver howled.

"Mom please n-no no no I can't no you don't get it I'm going to hurt you no, stop, please-,"

"Oliver," Moira choked on her own tears, what happened to her baby boy? "It's alright, sweetheart, you're home."

With Walter's help, she guided her son away from the window, stripped him down to his boxers and threw his wet clothes into a pile by the door, and tucked him into his bed. Moira stroked her son's sweat-streaked brow in an attempt to calm him down.

"Mom, please-," Oliver groaned, obviously exhausted, "I-I can't protect you from me right now."

It was then and there that Moira vowed that whatever was wrong with her son, what ever nightmare he was still trapped in, she would be there every step of the way to help him through it, whether he wanted her to or not.

Ignoring the way he shuddered and held his breath when she touched him, she bent over and gave him a quick kiss to his forehead.

"It's going to be alright, sweetie."

She got up and followed Walter out the door, whispering, "You're home."

Whether or not that statement was really true, Moira Queen still didn't know.

Willoffire123: You never did explain why you're here, Harry.

Harry: Why are any of us here, really?

Willoffire123: Good question.

Thea: To deal with my brother's obvious PTSD.