The night is already deep, I just finished a day's shift in the hospital and returned to my apartment. I casually left my backpack on the ground and then lay down directly on the soft sofa, yawning loudly. I looked at the clock in the living room and it was already 2 o'clock in the morning. The exhaustion from the long shift weighs heavy on my shoulders, every muscle aching from standing in surgery for hours.

Although I was a little tired, I still got up and turned on the TV, lowering the volume. The soft glow illuminates the quiet apartment as I flip through channels, not really watching but needing the background noise. The evening news catches my attention with footage of the Arrow preventing a major robbery downtown. The reporter mentions he appeared injured during the confrontation. "It's not easy being a superhero these days," I mutter to myself before heading to the bathroom.

The hot water of the shower relaxes my tense muscles, steam fogging the mirror as I wash away the day's stress. When I finish and step out in my pajamas, I notice something's wrong immediately - all the lights have gone out. A cool breeze sends a shiver down my spine as I spot the open balcony window, curtains swaying gently in the night wind. My heart starts racing - did someone break in while I was showering?

A low, pained voice cuts through the darkness from the direction of the sofa. "...help me..."

I freeze, every instinct screaming danger as I reach for the wall switch. The lights flicker on, revealing a figure lying on my sofa. Green leather, a recurve bow leaning against the armrest, and a familiar face that makes my blood run cold. "O, Oli? You... Is this some kind of joke? Dressing up as the vigilante in the middle of the night..."

My childhood best friend manages a bitter smile through his pain. "I'm sorry for breaking in like this, but I need your help. Can't contact my team - and I can't go to a hospital." He shifts slightly, and I gasp at the blood-soaked tear in his costume, a deep stab wound visible at his waist. "And yes, I am the Arrow. That's why I came to you." He winces, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth as he struggles to breathe.

The reality hits me like a punch to the chest. My best friend is Star City's vigilante - and he's bleeding out on my sofa. Without hesitation, I grab my medical kit from the storage closet, the familiar weight of the instruments giving me focus. "Don't you dare die on me, Queen," I growl, spreading the supplies on the coffee table. "And when this is over, you have a lot of explaining to do."