As far as Oliver was concerned, they both had baggage that was a lot to take on, but the baggage Mia found herself weighed down by wasn't her fault. The AIDS, the sexual abuse, her time on the street, it was all because of shitty circumstances in her life that were beyond her control, things that had been done to her, and she'd pulled herself out of that life. Most of his baggage, he'd brought on himself, and he was a glutton for punishment. Mia was the better person, in his book.
Ollie watched her go over to her target and pull out the arrow out of it. Mia wasn't struggling through her words, but this was clearly a loaded, emotional subject for her. He said nothing while she talked, but eventually went over and put a hand on her shoulder when she was done.
"Connor and Roy, they're both my sons, and they know that, no matter what happens," Oliver started, feeling as though his words were inadequate, "It just... makes sense for you to be a part of that. You already are. You're my daughter," it was not an eloquent speech, and it wasn't without some sense of awkward vulnerability, but it was heartfelt. He meant those words. It was kind of special, too, since he'd never really referred to her as his daughter before, at least not with her. And she was the one who mattered, in that instance.