A/N: So I thought I wasn't going to write fanfic for a while…but I guess Arrow is determined to hang on to my imagination. I know this should be a whole story, and I know that there are scenes similar to this already floating around. But this wouldn't leave me alone so I thought I'd scribble it down and share. It started out as an excuse to let Oliver punch Ray Palmer and turned into gush.

Bait

It had been four hours since the Emergency Room at Starling Memorial hospital had called Oliver and Digg, three and a half hours since Oliver had lowered himself into the chair, numb with shock and anguish as the doctor rattled off her list of injuries. He hadn't been able to do anything but stare at her ever since. So when her eyelids flickered he was up and standing over her in an instant.

"Hi," she said, her voice scratching in her throat.

He swallowed hard, looking down at her. "Hi."

"You look like crap," she muttered.

He let out a small laugh. "Look who's talking."

She tried to move and winced in pain. He reached for her, stopped, and curled his hand into a fist resting it on the side of the hospital bed. Then he asked the question he'd that had run over and over through his brain for the last four hours.

"Why didn't you tell us, Felicity?" he whispered.

She frowned. "Tell you?"

Swallowing he pounded his fist slightly against the metal rail on the bed. "I know things haven't been quite right, but we would have backed the two of you up in a heartbeat."

"Backed us up?" she echoed again.

"With Hardin," he said, and this time he let himself touch her, just his fingertips on her forearm, just enough to reassure himself she was there.

"Hardin?" she said, and he wondered if she was disoriented. Then her eyes went wide. "Oliver, what happened to me?"

"You got shot," he said. "And from what the doctor told me, pitched down a flight of stairs." In spite of his best efforts his voice broke. "Palmer's trap worked a little too well. If Lance hadn't found the two of you…"

"Trap?" She tried to sit up a little, and let out a cry of pain. Immediately his hand settled on her stomach, gently urging her to stay still. "Oliver, I don't know what you're talking about."

Something clicked into place in his brain. From the moment he'd realized what happened, it had seemed unbelievable that Felicity would have done something like this without telling them. He'd been mentally torturing himself with the idea that he'd pushed her so far away that she hadn't even felt like she could ask for his help.

Now, it made sense. She hadn't known she was being used as bait. He clenched his jaw tightly, suppressing the flood of rage, trying to keep her from seeing it. "We can talk about it later," he managed.

"Wait…I…" she protested reaching out to grab his arm.

Careful to keep his eyes from hers, knowing what she would see, he leaned down and kissed her forehead. "Just get some rest. I'll be right back."

He knew that he pushed through the door of her room with too much force, his breathing heavy and sharp. Hearing a voice, he felt like something inside of him literally broke apart, his anger turning into a monster that pounded for release.

Taking the ten steps down the hallway toward his target, he barely heard Digg's voice as his friend came up beside him. "Oliver? What is it?"

Palmer glanced up; there were stitches on his forehead and his arm was in a sling, but Oliver did not care. Surging forward he slammed a fist into the man's jaw and then felt himself tugging against a strong grip as something tried to pull him back.

Spinning, enraged at the restraint he stopped just short of punching John Diggle. "Let me go, John," he growled.

"Oliver, wait. I know you're angry, but," Digg said quickly.

"She didn't know," Oliver ground out, spinning back to Palmer. "Did she?" he shouted.

Palmer held a hand to his face, his lip was bleeding. He didn't look afraid, but he did look a bit ashamed. "I didn't think she'd get hurt," he said.

Oliver felt Digg's grasp loosen, his voice sounding shocked, and nearly as angry as Oliver felt. "What?"

Wanting Diggle to understand he gulped in several breaths. "He used her…and she didn't know."

Digg let him go, but luckily Oliver's brain had gotten hold of the monster a bit and shoved it back in a cage. It was a good thing he hadn't had a gun in his hand. Stalking forward he grabbed Palmer by the collar and shoved him hard against the nearest wall. "How could you do that to her?"

There was a hard look on Ray Palmer's face now. "I'm not the first person to use her as bait. Am I, Oliver?" he said quietly.

The words hit him hard, not just because they stirred the guilt that was so thinly buried beneath the surface of Oliver's heart, but also because that was something Ray Palmer should not have known about. He had a sudden wave of nausea, "Did she…?"

Palmer rolled his eyes a bit and with surprising skill pushed out of Oliver's hold. "Of course not. I just know more than you'd expect about all of you."

Oliver shook his head. He knew he should care, but honestly he didn't. "Get out," he said, curling his hands into fists.

"I want to see…" Palmer protested.

"He said get out," Digg said, moving to stand at Oliver's shoulder.

Palmer's eyes slid from Oliver to Diggle. "Don't you think that should be her choice?"

"Not anymore," Oliver said. "Leave now, or I will make you."

With a long sigh Palmer straightened his tie and turned away, Oliver didn't move until he'd disappeared from sight.

"She might not be too happy with us," Digg said.

"Do you care?" Oliver asked, turning to face his friend.

Digg gave him half a smile. "Depends."

"On what?" Oliver snapped.

Digg titled his head. "On if this little incident helped you get your head on straight."

He wanted to pretend he didn't know what John was talking about but he did. Getting that phone call tonight had been one of the worst moments in his life – and with his life, that was saying something. The feelings he'd wrestled back into a box over the last few months were going to be even more difficult to contain, and he honestly wasn't sure it was even possible anymore.

The weight of those thoughts and his sleepless night made him exhausted suddenly. He put a hand to his face and found that it was shaking slightly. "I don't know what to do," he said, his voice almost unrecognizable to himself. "I feel like I need…"

"Maybe that's the problem," Digg said and there was a sharp edge of irritation in his voice. When Oliver shot him a questioning glance he continued. "You say you love her, and I think you do, so maybe it's time to stop worrying about what you need, and start worrying about what she needs."

It was like being slapped in the face – and knowing you deserved it. He took a step back from Digg. Yes, he'd protected Felicity, and thought about her safety, but not once had he thought about the situation in quite those terms. Apparently the spoiled selfish brat he'd once been hadn't entirely died when the Queen's Gambit went down.

He really didn't want to be that person anymore.

"Okay," he said, letting the word fall out on a breath.

Digg look shocked. "Okay? Just like that?"

It was like a switch had been flipped inside of him somewhere, new mission, new goals. Oliver felt himself smile a bit. "Yeah."

Shaking his head, Digg's face broke out into an answering smile, He grabbed Oliver's shoulder and turned him back toward Felicity's room. "Then I think there's somewhere else you need to be."

Oliver walked through the door of Felicity's room and felt like eight years of misery lifted off his chest as he looked at her.

"Everything okay?" she asked. He could tell she was fighting to stay awake.

"Yeah," he said walking toward her. This time when he felt the urge to put a hand on her face he didn't stop. "Everything is just fine."

There was a question in her eyes, but she blinked heavily. "I'm so tired," she said. Then reaching up and grabbing his wrist she said, "Don't leave, okay?"

"I won't. I promise," he said.

It was the first of many promises that he made, and kept, to Felicity Smoak.