Behind The Arrow ➳ Oliver Queen [COMPLETED]

Chapter 22 | I'm What?!

"Okay, Sorceress," Firestorm says. He ran a blood test some time ago when I first arrived. Firestorm is in charge of the medical department here at Nanda Parbat, so it was easy for me to cut through the waiting list and get me checked first, and as selfish as it may sound, I kind of needed it.

"Is it done?," I ask, getting highly impatient from sitting here for a few hours. At this time, Oliver had gone out to get us some food since we missed dinner.

"It is," he takes out the paper, carefully examining it. His eyes widen slightly, and his thoughts go off. And when I say 'off', I mean OFF! They have radical changes and very pointless conclusions pop into my mind. However, they're too fast for me to process any bit of them.

"What?," I ask, getting slightly annoyed by not getting a solid answer.

"Sam," he whispers, "You're—You're pregnant."

"I'm what?!," I exclaim.

At that point, my mind loses it. Like, the thoughts going through my mind were a horrendous amount. My life had take unexpected turns and I needed to escape this place, but now, it was going to be ten times harder, so I exclaim, "We can't tell Oliver. Please tell him I had food poisoning."

"Why—."

"Just do it, Fire," I snap, pleading, "Please."

"Hmm...," he hums, "But, Sorceress, it's his right to know..."

"I know, I know," I say quickly, noticing Oliver coming back, "Please do this for me."

"Okay," he huffs, loudly, "I'll do it, but he deserves to know."

"And I'll tell him when the time's right," I roll my eyes.

"Tell who, what?," Oliver walks in, placing a small peck on my forehead.

"Erm—uh, well—I wasn't supposed to tell—erm—," I probably stammered on every word, "I wasn't supposed to tell Nyssa that—."

"She has food poisoning from Nyssa's second banquet a few nights back," Firestorm finishes.

"Aw, babe," Oliver wraps his arms around me, "she won't mind."

I look at Firestorm, and I know this plan isn't going to work out the way we planned but he was right. Oliver had a right to know if it was his kid. I needed to tell him.

"Fire, can we have a moment?," I ask him, politely. He nods and exits, leaving Oliver and I alone, him having a morbidly confused look on his face.

"What's up?," he asks, "It's not food poisoning, is it?"

"No, it's not," I shake my head, "Oliver, I'm—."

"—she has the flu," Firestorm comes back in the room and cuts me off. I look at him in shock seeing as it was his idea to tell Oliver initially, "Yeah, her flu is getting pretty bad."

"We can treat it," Oliver shrugs, giving me a hug, "Baby, you don't need to be that afraid of the flu."

"Right," I mutter, getting slightly frustrated with Firestorm.

"She'll have to take antibiotics for the next week and a half," Firestorm hands Oliver the vial of pills, "and, that's about it."

"Thanks, Fire," I nod, walking out of the infirmary. Why would he do that? I mean, he was right, Oliver had the right to know. It was his child and it isn't fair on him, making me feel like a hypocrite.

To be fair, I was keeping this secret to protect him, so he doesn't make irrational decisions for us, especially during the time we're plotting our escape.