Oliver stumbled through the dimly lit room. He tried to slow his beating heart and calm his breathing.
His back finally hit a wall and he slid down it with his head in his hands. Sweat poured down his neck and turned his gray t-shirt almost black.
"Oliver?" A sharp voice broke through the haze. "Oliver..." the voice said again.
A hand touched his shoulder and Oliver reacted before he knew what was happening.
His leg shot out and knocked the unsuspecting person to the floor. His hand shot out and Oliver stopped with his hand up to the person's neck.
Diggle was lying on the ground and Oliver recoiled.
"I'm sorry," Oliver said as he pushed himself back to the wall. "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to."
"It's okay, Oliver," Diggle said and he sat himself down right next to Oliver. He was close enough to feel his body trembling and silent sobs racked his body.
They sat in a comfortable silence for over an hour before Oliver finally let out a deep breath and pushed himself up. He walked on unsteady legs over to a large table.
For a while, only the sound of the him sharpening his weapons filled the lair, but he soon stopped and turned to Diggle.
"Thanks," he said, lamely. Diggle just shot him a welcoming smile.
"It happens to the best of us."