Chapter Text
Oliver always thought that when he got back to civilisation, he would feel enclosed and trapped. But nothing could be further from the truth. Being in the tiny hospital room surrounded by other rooms in the hospital in his hometown made Oliver feel comforted. He was home. And he had survived.
He thought the walls would feel suffocating, but they felt protective. He was safe from the elements and he was safe from Lian Yu.
His mother had come to the airport to meet him. Moira Queen was just as he remembered, dressed up in her perfect pencil skirt, blouse and blazer, not a hair out of place. Her makeup perfect despite the late hour.
Right now, she was standing out in the hallway talking with his doctor. Oliver strained to hear their conversation. “Not the Oliver you lost” “scar tissue over twenty percent of his body” Oliver heard snippets. The doctor wasn’t wrong, he just didn’t want anybody to know.
In his second year on Lian Yu, Oliver had made it his mission to get back to Starling City to save it from his father’s business partners. The small book was poking out of the duffel bag he had been given for his clothes before he changed into the hospital gown.
But since that year, he had been beaten, broken and starved. Oliver wasn’t that man anymore. He wanted to save the city, but he wasn’t fit to. He couldn’t even save himself.
Oliver waited for Moira to come back into his room. He turned to watch her. “Thea should be here soon, I talked to the doctor and he said you can come home tomorrow.” She said. She looked worried, which was worrying for Oliver because he had never seen her like that before.
Moira took a seat by his bedside and reached out her hand towards his. Oliver flinched away, looking apologetic at the flash of hurt that crossed Moira’s face. “It’s my fault.” She said and didn’t try to reach out for him again.
He waited, staring at the door, for his baby sister. He left when she was twelve. A seventeen year old girl who looked like his sister but also didn’t stood hesitantly in the doorway. “Ollie?” She whispered. “I didn’t know if I could believe it.” Thea took a step into the room. “You’ve been gone for so long.” She looked at him like she was waiting for him to say something. “Has he said anything at all?” She asked her mother.
“No.” Moira said, her voice cracking with emotion. Oliver just watched them from his position on the bed.
He was allowed to go home the next day. When Moira called them a car, the man tried to take his duffel bag, but Oliver took a step back and gripped it so tightly his fingers turned white. “That’s not necessary.” Moira said, watching the display.
They both climbed into the car, Oliver holding the bag on his lap. Moira looked at him strangely before turning her attention to the window.
It didn’t take long at all to get back to the Queen mansion. Oliver followed his mother inside, side-eying the guards as he passed them. He shifted uncomfortably.
Moira told him his room was just as he left it, Oliver took his bag up and walked inside. It was exactly as he left it, there wasn’t even a thin layer of dust along the surfaces.
Oliver was tired. He dropped his bag, stripped out of his clothes and pulled on cotton pajama pants. And then he crawled into bed. It was like heaven.
He couldn’t sleep straight away because of the unfamiliar nature of the softness of a mattress and silk sheets compared to the cold, hard ground he had been used to sleeping on. But eventually he drifted off.
After a few hours, the nightmares started. It was the Queen’s Gambit going down. Oliver watched as Sara was sucked out through the hole in his cabin. And then he watched as she was sucked out of the Amazo. He watched his father shooting himself in the head. He watched as his hands buried his father under large stones to protect his body from the birds. And then he watched all of his friends die. Yao Fei. Slade, twice. Shado.
Oliver screamed as he felt the water dragging him down, arms powerless against the pull. He could feel the water filling his lungs. His body stopped moving, muscles stopped cooperating and then the world faded out. He woke up when he died.
Someone was the other side of his door. They were turning the handle. “Stop!” He yelled. It was the first thing he had said in days. His voice was hoarse from disuse.
“Ollie…” It was Thea. The door handle stopped moving.
“Don’t. Just… stay outside.” He said, coming over to the door. He dragged the chest of drawers over to block the door.
“Are you okay?” She asked. Oliver didn’t know how to answer that. He didn’t want to burden her but she didn’t deserve to be lied to.
“Just go back to sleep.” He said after a moment.
“Fine.” He listened to her footsteps stalk down the hall.
After that night, Oliver made sure to always move the drawers in front of the door. He couldn’t be trusted. And God only knows what would’ve happened if Thea had come in.
Once, Slade had woken him from a nightmare by shaking his shoulder. But Oliver, still asleep, had reached out and started to choke Slade. If he hadn’t been the fighter he was, Slade could’ve died.
Oliver didn’t know what he would’ve done if he had accidentally killed Thea.
For the next few weeks, Oliver only moved from his bed to move the chest of drawers back and forth and to go to the bathroom. He slept a lot, on and off mostly, catching a few hours before the nightmares could start up.
But he heard Moira and Walter Steele, the interim CEO of Queen Consolidated, talking about him one night. “I’ve never seen him like this before.” Moira said.
“I know it’s hard, but Oliver has to deal with this in his own way.”
“It’s depression. That’s got to be it, right?” She sounded really worried.
“Moira, if Oliver wanted to die, or even felt like it was an option, he wouldn’t have fought so hard to survive. It couldn’t have been easy for five years. He’ll get better. He’s your son.”
Oliver swallowed thickly, was he depressed? Did he want to live? He wasn’t sure.
About four days after Oliver overheard their conversation, Moira barged into his bedroom. She noticed the scrape marks and raised her eyebrow. “Enough is enough Oliver. You can’t live in this bed forever. I understand that you need time, but it’s been almost a month and you’re like a ghost. I was given a phone number by your doctor at Starling General for a veteran companion. The doctor thinks it is a good idea and frankly, I’m not sure what else I can do. The companion is coming round to meet you in an hour. Take a shower. Get dressed. Raisa will bring you breakfast.” As Moira talked, she pulled open the thick curtains letting the light spill in. She left the room.
Oliver groaned. He wasn’t a veteran. He didn’t need a veteran companion, whatever the hell that was. But he knew better than to argue with his mother.
Oliver dragged himself out of bed and took a shower. It was nice on his muscles, the harsh stream massaged the tension away. Once he was clean, Oliver found a pair of clean pajama pants and a grey tshirt. He pulled them on and climbed back into bed.
There was a knock at the door. “Mr Oliver, I have your breakfast.” It was Raisa.
“You can come in.” He said. Raisa came in with a tray of toast, fruit and coffee. “Thank you Raisa.” She placed it on the table next to his bed and then stepped out of the room. Oliver picked at the fruit, but didn’t touch anything else.
He wondered exactly why his mother thought he needed a veteran companion when he had never seen war before. Oliver understood that his mother felt helpless, he felt helpless too, but this wasn’t a solution, it was just another problem.
Another knock sounded at the door. “Oliver, can we come in?” It was his mother.
“Yes.” He called back.
Moira stepped into the bedroom, looking annoyed to see him still in bed. “I thought I told you to shower.” She said.
“I did.” He replied, teeth gritted.
“Oliver, this is Felicity Smoak, the veteran companion.” Moira stepped to the side to reveal a blonde woman.
She was wearing a bright green dress and shifted nervously where she stood. “It’s nice to meet you Oliver.” She held her hand out for him to shake. He did and then sat back against the headboard. Moira disappeared, leaving them alone.
“What exactly does a veteran companion do?” He asked.
“I’m usually live-in. I help with re-acclimation into society. I also help with emotional issues or physical ones. I’m here for whatever you need.” She said kindly.
“I’m not a veteran.” He said.
“No, but I think you need me anyway.” Felicity said.