A/N: So, I'm back, because I started watching Arrow. This show, it's incredible. I'm sort of crazy about it now. It's the kind of show that makes me want to write angsty fanfiction, which doesn't happen too often, but here's the result. Oliver's character really fascinates me - the damaged layer of truth under a playboy surface. I had some fun with it. And Felicity, well, she's my favorite character by far. Funny as hell, smart, and not afraid to be frank with her boss. This is mostly a friendship fic, but there's some shipping if you're looking for it. I haven't decided if I ship him with Felicity yet. I'm borderline... I also like Oliver/Laurel.

"So…" Felicity drags the word out, hopping onto the desk beside him. "How's it going?"

Oliver glances up at her, then back to the list. "Jensen Carter. That's our next target."

"When you say our next target, I'm assuming you don't expect me to don a hood and quiver, do you?" She leans over his shoulder to look at the list, but he pulls it away and snaps the book shut.

"Figure of speech."

She swings her legs under the table. "Are you going to take care of him tonight?"

Oliver shakes his head. "Not tonight, he's on a plane from Metropolis, business trip."

"What did he do, Oliver, that puts him on the mysterious list?"

"Ponzi scheme. Ruined the lives of half the people in the Glades." Oliver rises, slipping the list into his pocket, and heads for the workout mats. "If you don't mind, I think I'll log a few hours of training."

"Nope, that's fine." She waits a beat, then says, "Although, I did actually come over here to ask you something."

He stops halfway to the pull-up bar, then turns. "Oh?"

"I'm not blind, you know." Felicity stands and slowly walks towards him.

"Yes, I'm aware."

"And I saved your life when you were shot."

He smiles tersely. "Thank you again, but-"

"Oliver, your shirt was off for hours. You think I wouldn't notice the scars?"

The smile drops from his face. "Oh. That."

"What happened to you? How did you even survive that?"

Their eyes meet; Oliver sucks in a breath. "That's personal."

He turns and walks to the training area without another word.

"Oliver! I mean Mr. Queen! God, what am I supposed to call you anyway…" She follows him, heels clicking on the concrete floor. "Okay, I know you're my boss and I'm just an IT slave, but you asked me to trust you and I don't think I can trust you until I know you. Because I don't know anything about you. I mean I know a little. And… I'm babbling again."

He twists to face her. "Felicity. I'm not going to talk about it."

"Why?"

"Because you don't want to know and I don't want to remember."

She takes a step closer to him. "I do want to know. You are… powerful, and dangerous. I want to trust you to do the right thing. But a man with scars like those…" She shakes her head, remembering. So many scars, so deep. He shouldn't have been able to survive something like that.

"You can trust me."

"Can I?"

"This conversation is over, Felicity." He turns around again, goes to the pull-up bar, and prepares to start.

"If I'm helping you to hurt people, Oliver…"

"I was tortured, all right?" he snaps.

Silence.

"There were… others on the island," he says more quietly. "I couldn't fight back at first. So I taught myself to."

She didn't know what she was expecting, but it wasn't that. He'd said it was personal, but she didn't think…

"I- I'm sorry, Oliver, I didn't know."

"Clearly." Finally, he turns. His lips are pursed together, and she knows that's what he does when he's trying to shut out emotion.

She opens and closes her mouth, trying to find words. It's not often that Felicity Smoak is speechless, but she's never been faced by a situation like this one.

"Does anybody… know about this?" she says finally.

"Dig, of course. And Laurel."

Of course. Of course Laurel knows. Felicity should have expected that. She doesn't know what it is about that girl, maybe the fact that she's always on Oliver's mind, but for some reason Felicity just doesn't like her.

"But they don't know everything, none of them. There's a certain… you'd have to be there to understand what happened."

"Nobody knows the full story?"

Oliver doesn't respond.

"I- I'm sorry, Oliver, and obviously I'm not the person you should turn to, but you've got to let somebody know. Dig, or- or Laurel, or even your sister. You can't go through this alone."

"I'm not alone. I have you, and Dig."

"You know what I mean. Carrying things you can't tell anyone – that's hard."

"Like you'd know."

"I do. Every day I lie for you, Oliver, about what you've been doing."

That stops him. He didn't think about it, that maybe he's not the only one lying to protect the people he loves. He didn't think about the sacrifices Felicity might have to make to join the team.

"I'm sorry," he says. "I never meant to burden you."

"No, and you just thought showing up in my car with two bullets in you wouldn't be a burden." As he starts to defend himself, she cuts him off. "No, I know, you didn't have a choice, and I totally understand. And I was totally willing to help. All I'm saying is, you act like you're all alone, a vigilante in this war against Starling City. But we're here too. Talk to us."

She waits a few minutes, but he doesn't turn around, so she starts to walk towards the door. At the last moment he catches up with her and grabs her by the wrist.

"Wait, Felicity. You're right."

Smiling faintly, she says, "Wow. Not often I hear that from Oliver Queen."

"This isn't funny. I- maybe- you-" He curses under his breath. "I'm not very good at this, this opening up thing."

"Okay," she says, leading him over to the steel desk where they sat before. "Try it like this. I ask questions, you answer."

"I can do that."

"Take off your shirt."

He raises an eyebrow, but complies. God- she inhales sharply. He is really ripped. No pun intended.

"This scar. Where did you get it?"

"Deathstroke – he's a hired mercenary – slid a knife into my ribcage." He avoids her eyes.

"And… this one?" She taps the circular burn on his right shoulder.

"That was a burn, again from his torture."

"Why was he-"

"They wanted to find the whereabouts of a… friend. I wouldn't tell them."

"Did you fight back?"

"It was in my first few months on the island. I had no idea what I was doing, no skill. No bow."

"So why did you start training?"

"To fight back."

She nods. He's being honest, she knows that. When Oliver lies, he tends to use longer sentences. When he's telling the truth, he tells only the bare essentials. "Okay, what about this scar?"

"Bullet. Machine gun peppered me on one of my escapes."

"One of them?"

"We had a lot of trouble, on the island."

"And who's we?"

Oliver jerks away from her and reaches for his shirt. "That's enough for now."

"I- I didn't mean to-"

"No, it's fine. You were curious. I just don't feel comfortable sharing that."

"Thank you, for even that little bit."

He laughs. "It's more than anybody knows. So don't-"

"Tell anybody, I know. When have you ever needed to ask me to keep something secret?"

"What do you mean?"

"Laptop riddled with bullets. Flashdrive with machine gun plans. Purified vertigo in a syringe…" She ticks them off on her fingers.

"Thank you," he says. "I can trust you."

"No, thank you. For letting me in. I… hope it helps. And if you have any trouble, you know where to find me."

They wait several more seconds, just looking at each other. He told her some personal things, and he's not sure if he'll regret it later. But right now it feels good, just to tell someone anything. He doesn't do that often.

"I'm sorry about what happened to you, Oliver."

He starts back to the training area. "Me too, Felicity. But without it, I wouldn't be who I am. What I am."

As if to prove his point, Oliver jumps up to grab the pull-up bar, then starts skipping rungs, bar and all.

She takes that as her cue to go.