What's wrong with us when happy hurts

The blueprints you've been using built your truth on top a web of lies

Notes:

Hi :)

I am so, so sorry it has taken me forever to update this story. There's a lot been going on in my life and I was not able to bring up the proper focus I needed to work on this story. But just to point out once more this story is not abandoned and will not be abandoned, even if it takes me ages to update, I will update.

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The blueprints you've been using built your truth on top a web of lies you did your best, you can't expect perfection, just accept you tried

Oliver

Oliver watched McKenna hesitate for a moment before rushing at him, knife at the ready. He closed his eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath, that hurt his lungs before getting ready for her attack, trying to keep her from stabbing him, to get the knife out of her hands, an act that was made so much more difficult by the restraints binding him. He only had limited reach with his hands and arms, while McKenna was free to move however she liked. The Green Arrow wasn't sure how he'd eventually managed to get the knife from her and push her hard enough to have her stumble rather far back and fall down, but he was pretty sure he had at the very least strained something in his shoulder and aggravated his four arrow wounds. The sharp blade had cut into his hand and blood was dripping from the wound onto the floor. The knife had clattered on the ground in between them, too far for him to reach it. If she got up, if she came at him again, he wasn't sure he had enough strength left to fight her. Everything hurt. It took everything he had out of him to stay standing and it was sheer willpower that kept him from crumbling to the floor. But he couldn't give up. He couldn't leave Sara. He didn't want to die. He wanted the life he'd dreamed about for longer than he could remember, even if he hadn't been rationally aware of it for a long time, he wouldn't let himself, the life they began to build together over the last few weeks. And he wanted to get to know his daughter, hold her in his arms, wanted to be her dad, to be a part of her life. He didn't want to die. Not now. Not like this. Not at the hands of a woman he cared for deeply.

"Oh, my g... come on! Are we serious? Oliver, what are you trying to prove, man? McKenna betrayed you. She tried to kill you just now. You've killed people for less." Oliver wasn't sure if he should be grateful for Adrian's reappearance, nothing good usual came with it, but maybe this time... maybe his presence would stop McKenna from attacking him again, maybe it would remind her who the greater, immediate danger was, maybe she could get to the knife and use it against Adrian maybe...

"I'm not going to kill her. I won't. Just let her go. She has nothing to do with this." He was damn tired of Adrian's games, of all of it. He was exhausted, both physically and mentally, and he just wanted the other man to tell him what the hell he wanted from him, what he wanted him to say, and he would. Whatever it was, just as long as all of this would finally end. If Adrian seriously believed he was going to kill McKenna, he hadn't done his homework, he would never kill an innocent person, he'd rather die. There was no way in hell he'd kill a friend as dear to him as McKenna was. And it wasn't as if she'd had much of a choice. Who knew how long she'd been held captive, what type of mind games he'd played with her. Oliver couldn't blame her. He never would. He understood, he did. He'd done unspeakable things because he'd been forced to, because he'd been in a situation with no way out. There was no way he would ever hold her actions against her. She'd reached her breaking point and just like him, wanted it all to end. Wanted to go home, be free. McKenna was just trying to survive.

Oliver watched helplessly as Adrian grabbed McKenna and pulled her up by her hair, holding her tight and wrapping an arm around her neck. He felt the icy hands of terror take hold of him and tried desperately to get out of his chains again; he felt the metal cut into his skin reopening the wounds and the blood from his chaffed arms run down his hand mixing with the blood from his cut, his tenons were aching from the strain he was putting on them while throwing his entire weight into the chains, the backwards pull on his shoulders also pulled on the arrow wounds on his chest, just like he felt the one still embedded in his thigh cut sharply and throb painfully at his movements, he forced the blackness closing in on the edge of his vision threatening to pull him under back, refusing to give in, no matter how tempting the oblivion of unconsciousness was right now. He wouldn't give in. He couldn't give in. Not as long as McKenna's life was at stake.