Chapter Text
The sound of a boat’s horn pierces the air, causing a few birds to fly upward. It’s maybe a mile off shore, but nearly facing where one of the bonfire set ups Slade and Oliver had made purely for this. For being rescued.
Oliver shakes Slade awake beside him while lighting the arrow in his hand. He pulls back, calmly taking aim. Hitting it perfectly, he can’t help but release a little whoop of joy.
“What the hell is wrong with you, kid?” Slade murmurs, sitting up slightly from where he was leaning against a rock.
“Thought you wanted to go home with me, Wilson. There’s a boat.”
“What do you mean there’s a boat?” Slade asks, looking in the opposite direction of where the boat actually is.
Oliver, deciding that words are too difficult, grips Slade's face in his hands and turns it toward the boat. Slade stands up so quickly that he nearly falls over.
“Race you to the beach?” Oliver suggests, then takes off, knowing that without a head start he could never win.
Slade sprints behind him, jumping over logs and various rocks with practiced ease. He ends up tackling Oliver on the beach, grinning widely as Oliver sputters.
They stand up, shoulders pressed together, as they watch the boat come nearer to them. It looks like a fishing boat, considering its short length and the pace it’s moving, but it’s still salvation.
“I told you this would happen, kid,” Slade says, ruffling Oliver’s hair.
“Yeah, you did. You still want to come with me back to the city?”
“It’s quite bold of you to assume I’d ever leave my family behind, Oliver.”
Oliver hangs his head slightly, freezing at the implication that Slade is going to leave him. It’s not anything new, because Sara and Shado had left them over a year ago, finding some plane that could only fit two people, but it still hurts. Shado and Sara are in Starling. Slade is going to be halfway across the world. He starts shaking slightly, and his breathing picks up, though he covers it up well.
Meanwhile, Slade is reminded of the first time something like this happened, the first time the kid didn’t realize he was family.
*FLASHBACK*
It’s been two weeks since Slade has seen Oliver. Shado and Oliver had been hunting together when, according to Shado, Oliver had shoved her down as bullets started flying. He had run off, screaming and yelling, in the other direction, obviously trying to get their attention.
Shado had been shoved hard enough that she blacked out for a second and was slow to get up, but she saw a bullet tear through Oliver’s leg, watched as Fryers’ and his men surrounded him, and heard him scream.
As much as Slade wanted to, he couldn’t forget about Oliver. This was the kid that, after months of being on an island, after being tortured and starved, had left his chance of getting off to save a man he barely knew. This was the kid that, though his skills were not perfect, sacrificed himself. He’s the kid that whined about being woken up before the sun comes up, but was still enthusiastic about learning to fight. He was the kid with the jokes, the kid that didn’t deserve this. He was family, and Slade can’t ignore that.
Both Slade and Shado have their weapons on them, prepared to search for Oliver at another one of Fryers’ camps. As they move outside, they hear people stepping on sticks and someone groaning in pain. Shado moves quickly and silently around the soldiers, perching in a tree far off and waiting for Slade's signal.
“Slade Wilson. I’m sure you already know me, and I would like to propose a deal. You show me where you hid those circuits that you decided to steal, you have a way off, and you get the kid. You don’t, Billy gets the kid, and I don’t think he can last much longer.” Fryers says, kicking at the lump on the ground.
Slade takes the time to really observe what’s going on, rather than just categorize the soldiers as threats. There is something, someone, on the ground, covered in blood and bruises, with mud everywhere and seeming to be soaked. It isn’t until he looks up that Slade recognizes those blue eyes.
It’s Oliver.
“Kid?” Slade says, and he wishes his voice doesn’t break when he says it, wishes that he was where Oliver is.
“Slade. You-you can’t l-let them. It’s been n-nice knowing you.” Oliver says, and one of the soldiers slashed at the kid’s face with a knife, drawing out a whimper.
“I’d love to make that deal, really, but I’ve actually grown quite fond of the island. So you let the kid go, and leave.”
“I don’t think so. Not without the circuits.”
Slade winks, moving his hand toward his pocket where the circuit is kept. An arrow goes through Fryers neck, courtesy of Shado.
All eight of his soldiers died pretty quick after that.
Oliver, face covered in scrapes and mud, is laying on the ground, curled into a ball. When Slade jogs over, the kid flinches back, but Slade keeps moving slowly.
“Hey kid. It’s Slade, okay? I’m not going to hurt you, remember?” He says quietly, voice cracking slightly.
“Slade? Wanna go home.”
“I know Oliver. We have to get you fixed up first though, okay?”
The kid nods slightly before whimpering and reaching out to touch Slade’s face, smiling deliriously.
“Oliver, come on kid,” Slade says while picking Oliver up, trying to ignore his whimpering. The second his arm touches Oliver’s leg, though, he screams loudly, hitting Slade as hard as possible and definitely leaving bruises.
As soon as they get into the plane, he sets the kid down on his mattress, which isn’t much of one, and starts getting the dirt off of him.
“We need to get his clothes off and clean his wounds. Slade, you’re going to have to hold him down and make sure he doesn’t move.” Shado shouts, opening up the med kit as Slade pulls off Oliver’s jacket and pants. He ties Oliver’s hands down so he won’t move too much, muttering a small apology. On a whim, Slade runs his hand through the kid’s hair, whispering quiet reassurances as Shado patches him up.
Slade thought he was strong, but he flinches every time Oliver screams. By the end of it, he has a few tears running down his face, and he quickly wipes them away as Shado glances over at him.
Oliver looks at him, eyes bright blue and scared of everything, tears running down his face, muddy blond hair sticking to his head. He looks so utterly innocent and terrified as Slade unties him from the mattress and pulls him into an incredibly gentle hug.
“You should have left me, Slade.”
“I don’t leave family behind, kid.”
“I'm family?”
“Of course you are, kid. Go to sleep now,” Slade whispers, smiling slightly as Oliver immediately goes to sleep.
He is family, even though he doesn’t always think so.
*END FLASHBACK*
“Kid?”
“What?” Oliver asks, and it comes out harsher and more broken than he’d intended.
“You know you’re my family, right? I’m going with you.”
“I-I thought you meant Joe. I’m not your blood.”
“You’re still my family, Kid. And Joe can wait. Maybe I’ll see if he wants to move to Starling.”
“Yeah?”
“Of course. Couldn’t leave your wimpy ass alone, could I?”
The sadness is broken as Oliver snorts, and Slade pulls him in for a quick hug as the boat approaches.
After about a day’s boat ride, with Oliver trembling slightly from the fear of it going down and trying to stay huddled up next to Slade, they arrive in China. It’s not a particularly large port, which is probably a good thing considering the fact that they are incredibly unused to any sort of crowd.
Slade keeps an arm wrapped around Oliver’s shoulder, tightly, as they walk toward a few cars that will take them to a US embassy.
Within a day, Slade and Oliver are on a flight home, tense and unsure of everything.
Eventually, they arrive in Starling, though they immediately get sent to the hospital, which Oliver smiles fondly at.
“Why are you smiling, kid?”
“Last time I was here, it was because of some asshole paparazzi guy. He wouldn’t leave Thea alone, so I punched him in the face.”
“That put you in the hospital?”
“No, it barely even hurt. But he was ex-military, and not happy. I stood my own for a few minutes, but he beat the crap out of me.”
“That’s a good memory for you? Getting beat up?”
“Well, no. But it was one of the first times I did something my parents didn’t like. And no one bothered Thea. It was also one of the first times Laurel was actually nice to me without some sort of ulterior motive.”
“You confuse me, Queen.”
“I know.” Oliver chirps in reply, smirking slightly. “Do you think Shado and Sara will stop by the hospital? I know we called before the flight, but we didn’t really arrange to meet.”
“Knowing them, we’ll see them soon.” Slade says, walking over to Oliver and setting a careful hand on his shoulder.
After their check ups, performed in the same room as each other (after Slade glared violently at the doctor for suggesting otherwise) and resulting in them being incredibly tense, they are brought to a small room with two beds. The two immediately search around the room for weapons (in other words, pens and various sharp objects), and quickly settle down against the wall farthest from the door. They have views of the entire room, and are sitting in a way that they can easily get up from.
They sit like that, shoulders pressed together, as they wait for Moira to walk in.
-/-/-/-/-
Moira had received a call saying her son was alive, which shocked her more than she cares to admit. The fact that Oliver, her beautiful baby boy, is still alive when everyone said otherwise is a marvel.
Her guilt nearly overwhelms her as she walks with the doctor to the hospital room. She moves to open the door, but a gentle hand at her wrist gets her to stop.
“The Oliver in that room is not the same Oliver you lost, Mrs. Queen.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“He went through a massive amount of trauma on that island. Twenty percent of his body is covered in scar tissue. He has at least twelve fractures that haven’t healed correctly. He also seems to have gained a sort of dependence on Mr. Wilson, though it does not seem to be to the point where it is necessary to end. This dependency is good for his health, meaning he may be more open to trusting and accepting society again.”
“Has he said anything about what happened?” Moira asks, her curiosity getting the better of her.
“No. He’s barely said anything, except the occasional remark to Mr. Wilson. Mrs. Queen, you should prepare yourself. Whatever Oliver you lost, this isn’t him anymore.”
With that happy note, Moira opens the door, watching as two men immediately stand, one of whom glares heavily at the door and the other walking towards her.
“Mom?”
Now the guilt really does overwhelm her, and she runs to Oliver, pulling him into a tight hug and whispering reassurances to him, rubbing his back and trying to get him to stop tensing.
“Oliver, my beautiful boy.” She whispers, crying slightly.
“As entertaining as this is, I don’t think the kid is very comfortable, Mrs. Queen,” Slade says, interrupting their moment and coughing loudly. Moira glares at him as Oliver sends him a small smile.
“Who exactly are you?”
“Slade Wilson. I saved your kid’s life, so calm down.”
“Seriously Slade? Be nice. Look, mom, he saved me multiple times. I wouldn’t be alive without him, so please cut him some slack. He’s going to be moving in with me.”
Moira just nods numbly, looking ill at the fact that she had put Oliver through something where he nearly died multiple times.
-/-/-/-/-
On the ride to the mansion (in a limo of course), Oliver watches Slade’s reaction to his money, deeply amused. Slade is practically bouncing in his seat with excitement, though it doesn’t look that way.
“I can see why you were so whiny now, kid,” Slade remarks, grinning slightly as Oliver sends him the middle finger.
“I was not whiny!”
“Yes you were. You whined all the time. During training, hunting, eating. The only time you weren’t was when-“
“-let’s not talk about that. And I’m better now, at least.” Oliver interrupts before Slade decides his mom might need to know that they weren’t alone on the island. The tiny, creeping suspicion that his mom was at least partially responsible for how the gambit went down makes its way into his mind again, but it seems Slade notices as he levels a small glare at Moira.
After a few tense and somewhat awkward moments, they arrive at the mansion.
“That is a fucking castle!”
“It doesn’t have water around it.” Oliver replies, stepping out of the limo after Slade and watching as he looks in awe at his surroundings. For Oliver, it feels a little surreal to be back, but to Slade it must be close to a hallucination.
“The fuck does that have to do with it?”
“Castles have water around them, Slade. It’s a known fact.”
“According to who?”
“Disney.” Oliver deadpans.
Slade stops looking at the mansion and stares at him. Oliver, holding eye contact, bows slightly and smirks.
Moira just ignores them and walks into the house. Slade shoots a questioning glance at Oliver, probably confused at why Moira didn’t seem to care that much about her son returning from the literal dead, but Oliver just shrugs it off. Over the past few years on Lian Yu, he’s realized that his parents never cared all that much about him and that he is more of a status symbol than anything.
If the island had taught him anything, it was the truth.
(And that, on occasion, gay jokes and actions - as well as the fact that everyone seemed to think he and Slade were together - could get them out of torture and/or unfavorable conditions.)
Oliver, after running back to the car and grabbing the wooden case containing his bow and Slade’s swords, follows his mother into the house with Slade a step right and two steps behind him.
“Oliver, your room is exactly how you left it. I never had the heart to change it. And Mr. Wilson, there are guest rooms all around, but there is one right next to Oliver’s room if you’d like it.” Moira says, walking up to a man that is vaguely recognizable.
“Oliver. It’s damn good to see you,” the man says, walking forward and reaching a hand out despite Slade’s glare. “It’s Walter, Walter Steele.”
Oliver ignores his hand and runs off to greet Raisa, who he’d often seen as his mother, especially after his revelations on the island.
“Raisa!” He exclaims, giving her a tight hug.
“Mr. Oliver, it is good to have you back. Mr. Merlyn called, he’d like to join you for dinner.”
“That sounds wonderful, Raisa.” Moira says, smile somewhat strained.
Suddenly, a teenage girl comes bounding down the steps and launches herself at Oliver, though he catches her easily.
“Ollie!”
“Hey sis!”
“Who is that, Ollie?” She asks after a moment of hugging her brother with mild violence.
“He’s a jack-“
“Thea, my name is Slade Wilson. I was on the island with Oliver.”
“How do you know my name?”
“The kid likes to talk,” Slade answers, grinning slightly (which only Oliver, Shado, or Sara have ever been able to notice) as Oliver sticks his tongue out.
“Oliver, Mr. Wilson? Would you like to get situated in your rooms before dinner?” Moira interrupts before Oliver can create some sort of violent comeback.
“Sure Mom.”
She just jerks her head and watches as the two men walk up the stairs, laughing quietly but still incredibly alert.
Oliver, finally caught up with the fact that he is home, drags Slade into his room and, after doing a quick sweep, hugs him tightly. He’s crying, and Slade doesn’t tease him, doesn’t bring it up.
Slade just holds his little brother, happy to be safe and eager to be reunited with Sara and Shado in the coming days.