"An Arrow To The Knee" (Arrow fic)

[ladyarcherfan3]

Title: “Arrow To The Knee”
Author:
ladyarcherfan3
Characters: Oliver, Felicity, Diggle, Roy
Genre: Gen, Hurt/Comfort
Rating: PG-13 for some language
Word Count: 3,342
Spoilers: Set between S2 and S3
Warnings: None
Disclaimer: I own nothing but my own imagination, but the muse does own me.
Summary: Team Arrow has been enjoying a quiet patch in their vigilante work. Of course that can’t continue


It should have been a quiet night. Everything had settled down in Starling City in aftermath of Slade and his Mirakuru soldiers, and that included the crime rate before Team Arrow even stepped in. Stopping a few muggings, a handful of convenience store robberies and a couple of small drug deals wasn’t exactly wild compared to what they had dealt with before.

And that was exactly what they needed. It gave them a time to catch their breaths, regroup and resettle as a team. Roy’s training had finally gotten the proper attention it needed, uninterrupted by threats and Mirakuru injections. He proved an adept and eager student, constantly looking for new styles and weapons to try and master. This enthusiasm had prompted Felicity to give him the code name Arsenal.

If she had brought it up at any point other than when she was directing both Roy and Dig on the proper set up for the new equipment in the lair, it probably wouldn’t have led to Roy’s retaliation of calling her Interior Designer Barbie. She hacked his phone and changed all of his alerts to Barbie Girl in response.

Dig wasn’t at the lair as often as he once had been, splitting him time between vigilante activities and time with Lyla. But he was always there for patrols, either backing up Roy at a distance or in the lair with Felicity, monitoring. All in all, Team Arrow was doing well.

So when one in the morning rolled around, and there was nothing happening on the streets, Oliver called it a night. Roy, who had been patrolling solo, was more than willing to head back to the lair.

“See you boys when you get back in, and remember to mind the traffic laws,” Felicity’s voice said over the comms, a hint of laughter in her words.

“Oh, I think we all learned that lesson,” Roy replied with a snigger.

“Yes, by all means, who would want to get chased and almost busted running a red light or something, after all the hard work you do not to get caught while fighting crime,” she laughed.

Oliver rolled his eyes and groaned. “That was one time, Felicity, and we’ve all learned to take back streets when doing patrols.”

“When you say ‘we’ do you actually mean you, as in Oliver Queen, correct?” Roy shot back.

“The mighty Arrow,” Felicity intoned.

The last few months had also unleashed a banter monster made of Felicity and Roy, and if they weren’t teasing each other, they were teasing Oliver. “Alright, that’s enough,” he said to a peal of laughter through the comms. “ETA to the foundry - twenty minutes.”

“Spoil sport,” Roy muttered before muting his comm.

Oliver just shook his head and allowed himself a small smile as he muted his own comms. After everything that had happened in just the last two years, it was good to see his city and the people he cared about in such good shape. There were still problems, and he had not heard from Thea for too long, but at this exact moment, things were good. And so was he.

He was good, but he was also distracted. As he slipped into the alley where he had put his motorcycle, a rough voice from behind him broke the silence.

“Hey! You in the hood!”

Oliver went still and looked over his shoulder. Three men crowded in at the entrance to the alley. Two had guns, and the third had a pipe.

“Whatever you’re thinking,” Oliver growled, “think again before anyone gets hurt.”

“Yeah, I don’t think so,” the leader said. “You busted up our buddies last week. We’re just returning the favor.”

He and Roy had taken down a meeting between a gang and their drug supplier, but apparently not all members had been present and were out for some payback.

He turned to face the gang members. “I did warn you.”

Arrows whistled in rapid succession and knocked the weapons from their hands. But that didn’t faze the three men. With wordless bellows they charged.

The brazen move shocked him, but he dodged the first wild punch, knocking the man out with a blow to the back of the head. One of the others grabbed at his arm, trying to wrench the bow away from him, but Oliver twisted and broke free. There was a rattling chime as the flachettes on his arm were pulled off, but he ignored them. A kick to the knee brought the man to the ground even and a quick punch to the face knocked him out. The third man hit Oliver around the knees with a sweeping kick and knocked him over; at the same Oliver swept his bow around and caught the man around the temple.

Oliver hit the ground and pain flared through him, his left leg feeling on fire and paralyzed at the same time. He yelped and flailed away from the pain.

*

Oliver’s bellow echoed through the comms, followed by a string of what sounded like Russian curses before being cut off abruptly. Felicity and Digg, both chortling in the aftermath of a story detailing Lyla’s and Digg’s attempts to decorate the nursery for the baby, froze in surprise. Felicity jumped and twisted back towards her computer screens. The last thing she had seen was Oliver’s tracker right where it was supposed to be, en route back to the lair; however, it was stationary.

“Oliver, what happened?” she demanded. Her fingers were flying over the keyboard even as she spoke. After a second she gave a disgruntled snort as she came up empty handed on any sort of visual.

“Usually parking where there aren’t security cameras works in our favor,” Digg agreed.

“How much trouble could he have gotten into?” she wondered. “Oliver? Are you okay?”

It took a few more seconds, but finally Oliver answered. “Yeah. Yeah, Felicity, I’m fine.”

“Right. Why do you sound like you’re in pain, then?”

“I’ve had worse.”

“You’ve also flatlined several times, so don’t even try that argument.”

Digg picked up his own comm. “Roy, it looks like you’re about a block and a half to the west of Oliver’s location.”

“On it.”

There was an unintelligible groan from Oliver’s side. “I’m fine. I’ll meet everyone back at the foundry.”

“I’m still going to intercept, just in case,” Roy replied.

“If you can keep up.”

“Oh, you know how I like a challenge, boss.”

Oliver muted his side and for several long minutes there was nothing. Felicity tracked they position and coordinated them with traffic cameras. Just as she spotted both Oliver and Roy pull out onto the same side street, Roy’s laughter rang through the comms over the noise of the motorcycles. “Oh my God! How did you even do that?”

“Shut up, Roy.” Oliver sounded more pissed than hurt by now.

“I’m sorry, but…” he dissolved into laughter again. “Do you want me to, you know…” he made a ripping sound.

“No!”

“Oliver, what the hell happened to you?” Digg asked. He could see them, but the camera was too far away to make out more than the fact that Oliver was hunched on his bike, every movement careful. Roy was also bent over on his bike, but he was quite obviously laughing.

“Digg, just have the med kit ready to go when I get back.”

“We’ll be ready.”

Thirty minutes later, there was a lot of shuffling and thumping and muffled laughter as the door to the lair opened. Oliver limped down, unhappily supported by Roy.

“Care to give us the full story?” Digg asked as the pair reached the bottom of the stairs.

“No,” Oliver said between gritted teeth.

But Roy just grinned. “He fell. On one of his flachettes. And stabbed himself…” he pivoted, spinning Oliver with him so their backs were to the rest of the team. “In the ass!” he finished, dissolving into laughter again.

Digg let out a sudden belly laugh. Felicity, hand over her mouth, dissolved into giggles.

With a growl, Oliver pushed away from Roy, limped over to the exam table and walked around it so he could brace himself while keeping his wounded pride out of the direct line of sight.

“H-h-how?” Felicity managed after a few moments, still giggling.

Digg had lost control so far he that was sitting, hand over face entire body shaking with silent laughter.

“There were three guys. They attacked. I responded. One managed to pull my bracer off, the flachettes fell. I got knocked down, and fell on one of the damn things.” He glared at Digg. “You done yet?”

He wiped off tears of laughter. “Yeah, I think so.” He went back over to the storage cabinets and started rummaging through the drawers. “I’m gonna need some different equipment, though. Roy, get him up on the table. Felicity, we need to start an IV.”

Oliver scowled. “I don’t need help.” He stripped off his quiver and shoved it at Roy, who set it down and stepped back, a smirk on his face. Oliver got his torso up onto the table almost without trying, but as soon as he tried to swing his legs up he stopped short, a breath hissing through clenched teeth.

“Stop being an ass,” Felicity said automatically, and it sent Roy into another round of hysterics, which she almost followed. “You need help, we’re gonna help.” She gestured to encompassed the lair and everyone in it. “We’re a team, remember? Team Arrow? Deal with it.”

It took a moment, but he sighed and nodded once. “Fine.”

With Roy lifting his legs, Oliver managed to get completely onto the table. He propped himself up on his elbows and stared straight ahead, jaw clenched.

Digg turned away from the cabinets with an unfamiliar implement, but put it down with the rest of med kit he’d set up earlier and started an IV as Felicity handed him the equiptment. Once the saline was going, he added a dose of oxycodone and pulled out a syringe of anesthetic.

“Don’t argue about the meds, man,” he said as Oliver started to glare. “This is going to be a bit more intense than some stitches or even taking out a bullet. You’ll thank me when you have a shorter recovery time. This is a big muscle group we’re talking about, and a lot of tissue damage if you don’t relaxed.” He prepped the injection site and delivered the medication.

For a moment, it looked like Oliver was going to argue, but then the lines in his face eased and some of the tension ran out of his shoulders. “Fair point.” He settled down so his forehead rested on his forearm, while the other stayed straight so he wouldn’t move the IV. After a moment, he squirmed into a more comfortable position and huffed a snuffly sort of sigh.

“Glad you can see sense once and a while.” Digg pulled on gloves before picking up a pair of medical shears. “The leather needs to be cut to get at the wound. Do you want me to be careful so you can repair them, or do you not care?”

“Cut ‘em up,” Oliver replied, words soft around the edges. “I’ve got a spare pair. A couple.” He sighed again and looked up. “Damn it, though. This pair was just getting comfortable. You know what it’s like to break in new leather pants? It sucks.” He burrowed into his arm once again.

Felicity and Roy exchanged glances. “He gets weird on oxy,” he whispered.

“I don’t blame him. That stuff is good,” she replied.

Digg just shook his head and started cutting. A few careful snips later, he had cut through the leather and the layer underneath and exposed the wound and enough of the surrounding area so he could work. Both Felicity and Roy hissed in sympathy when they saw the blood, swelling and bruising that had already formed. Digg even felt a little bad about how he’d laughed earlier; the sort of trauma that one of Oliver’s arrows, even the flachettes, could inflict wasn’t funny. And while the location was hilarious, and removing the arrow wasn’t going to be fun. He said as much out loud.

“Jus’ do it,” Oliver said.

“Roy, you’re going to need to hold his legs down. Felicity, try to keep his arms still so he doesn’t rip out the IV.”

“Christ,” Roy muttered as he considered angles and ended up draping his torso across Oliver’s calves and grabbing the edge of the table for further support. “I’m gonna get kicked across the room, I know it.”

Felicity hesitated. “Digg, you’ve seen his arms, right? I mean, they’re not as big as yours, but they’re still pretty muscular, and I’m really not. Also, we’ve all seen him dig bullets out of himself without help, why would this be much different?”

“Can you not talk about me like I’m not here?” Oliver asked, a whine edging into his voice.

“Sorry,” she said, and patted the top of his head without thinking; he sighed and tried to follow her hand as she moved it away.

Digg ignored Oliver and answered her, “Bullets are a bit different. They flatten on impact, arrows don’t. Arrowheads are meant to go in nice, but they don’t come out that way. I’m probably going to have to widen the entrance wound just to get at the head.” He picked up the odd tool again. It looked a bit like sponge forceps, but with solid cups instead of hollow loops. “Hopefully this will help.”

“And that is?” Felicity prompted as Oliver lifted his head and twisted to see what was going on.

“An arrow remover. I had it made in case something like this happened again.”

Roy’s face lit up. “Again? He’s sat on arrows before?”

“No!” Oliver said indignantly. “And I didn’t sit on this one - I was knocked over onto it.”

“But you landed on your ass, hence sitting.”

Oliver growled, but Digg just talked over him. “Alright. Talk later. We need to get this done.” Everyone braced as Digg bent over the wound and considered the best approach. “And try not to clench, Oliver.”

“Feel kinda numb, you know, from the anesthetic.”

“Yeah, not sure how deep that’s really gonna go. So stay as relaxed as you can.”

“Or, you know, your buns of steel will really cause some damage,” Felicity said as she readjusted her grip on Oliver’s arm to make sure the IV didn’t get pulled. “Which is why I’m surprised you even got stabbed in the first place, it almost should have been deflected by your super dense muscles-” She paused when he whimpered, and saw that the top of his forehead and his ears - the only parts of his face not hidden by his arm, where bright red. “Are- are you blushing?”

“No!” he said too quickly. “Jus’ startin’ to feel that, Digg,” he added though clenched teeth.

“Just don’t move,” was the only reply.

Roy started giggling suddenly. “What’s that phrase from that video game? ‘I was an adventurer, until I took an arrow to the knee’.”

“Oh yeah, that Skyrim meme!” Felicity grinned.

“I recall someone else who took an arrow to the knee,” Diggle muttered.

Roy froze for a second. “I thought you were concentrating, Digg.” When he got no reply, he turned his attention back to Felicity. “Yeah, now Oliver can have his own! ‘I used to be a ninja-like vigilante, and then I took an arrow to the ass’-”

Oliver sat up and tried to turn around. “Roy…” he growled.

At that moment Digg declared, “Got it!” and pulled his arm up with a quick jerk.

Oliver yowled and jerked. Roy swore, clung to the table and managed to keep Oliver’s legs still as Digg tossed down the flachette and grabbed gauze to stanch the new flow of blood.

“Alright, it’s out. I’m gonna stich what I can and pack the wound. Then we’re done.”

“Thank God,” Roy said as he straightened, rubbing at his sternum.

“You’re not the one who got shot, so shuddup,” Oliver said, face pressed back into his arm once again.

Digg snorted and picked up a suture needle. “I think I prefer ripping arrows out of you - pliers and all - when you’re unconscious.”

“When did you get shot with arrows? Don’t you usually do the shooting?” Roy asked as he drifted away from the table to properly put away their weapons.

“Malcom. The firs’ Chris’mas I was back from the island,” Oliver replied.

“Yeah, couldn’t have you going into the hospital with arrows sticking out of you, no one would have been able to overlook that.” Digg shrugged and finished a stich. “I started doing research in case something like that happened again. Didn’t expect to pull one of your own arrows out of you.”

“Can we just forget about this? Like, forever and now?” Oliver asked.

Roy snorted. “Oh, no, never.”

“I will make you suffer.”

“You won’t be able to catch me for a while.”

“I can still shoot you.”

Digg interrupted them. “Not to night. I doubt you want to sit in a car, so you may as well stay here, and sleep off the pain and meds a bit. I’ll stay and keep an eye on you so you don’t do anything stupid.” He sent another mild dose of oxycodone through the IV before helping Oliver up.

“What ‘bout Lyla?” Oliver asked wobbling slightly as he tried to walk.

“She’s got a girls’ night tonight. Not really a baby shower, but that’s all they’ll be talking about.” He shrugged. “We both need our space once and awhile.”

“And you choose to spend your time with an injured Oliver? Oh, Digg,” Felicity shook her head. “I’ll stay too, and we can marathon some movies and eat junk food.”

Roy had traded out his leathers for jeans and his red hoodie. “Junk food? Can I stay?”

Oliver’s face wrinkled in confusion. “Is this a slumber party?”

Felicity grinned. “Yup! Team Arrow’s first ever slumber party! We’ll have food, bad movies, and Oliver’s on drugs, so it’ll be fun.” She turned to the others. “Right?”

It didn’t take long for Digg to get Oliver situated on a cot and start cleaning up the surgical equipment. Felicity tracked down all the comfy chairs, cushions and sleeping bags that had been stored around the lair and organized them around one of her monitors and pulled up Netflix on the biggest screen. Roy scrounged around for junk food, but only came up with protein bars and bottled water.

“We suck at hording snacks. I’m gonna make a run. Anything anyone wants in particular?”

A few minutes later, list in hand, he jogged up the stairs and disappeared. Felicity, satisfied with her set up, grabbed a bottle of water and brought it over to Oliver. He was propped up on his elbows, a dopey half grin on his face.

“Here,” she said. “I remember how dehydrated I got after getting shot and the meds gave me dry mouth. Not sure if you have the same problem, but you’re probably thirsty.”

He took it, but didn’t open it right away. “F’licty… we should have dinner.”

Her brows came together and her head tipped. “Are you hungry? I can text Roy and tell him to grab some burgers on his way back.”

“No, not tha’…” He was starting to slur even more.

“So you don’t want food?”

“No. Yes. But not righ’ now.” He groaned and dropped his head into his hands. “Why did I ever like this? Feeling like this? Itz all fuzzy. I don’t like it.”

She smiled and shook her head. “Just drink some water and relax, Oliver. We won’t mind if you fall asleep before the movies start.”

He grumbled and made no move to lift his head.

“Have it your way.” She turned to see Digg shaking his head and grinning.

“And I thought you were funny on pain meds,” was all he said.

Fin.