Damaged Goods

Disclaimer: I don't own anything from the television series Arrow and I'm not making any money from this fic

Summary: Follows Broken. After Slade and Oliver fight a group of mercenaries, Slade receives a head injury that causes him to lose all of his memories of his time after leaving the island

Pairing: Slade Wilson/Oliver Queen - slash

Warning(s): Spanking; explicit sex scenes between two men; spoilers for the first two seasons of Arrow; AU; some strong descriptions of violence; swearing

Author's Note: The present tense style was interesting to use as a one-off... but I'm going back to past tense, which is easier for me. And it seems like I've developed a 'taste' for Slade and Oliver slash, so I expect there'll be more of these to come

Slade dropped one of the men with a kick to the stomach and then followed it with a punch to the head. He heard the satisfying crunch as the man's head slammed into the wall and he crumpled to the ground, unconscious. Slade was already turning to the next one, though, catching the next man with a quick jab to the throat.

An arrow whizzed past Slade's ear, narrowly missing grazing him, and buried into a third man's chest.

"Hey, watch it!" Slade called back over his shoulder. "You almost clipped me."

"If I'd wanted to clip you... I would have done."

Used to Oliver coming up behind him (and no longer as jumpy as he was about people that close to him), Slade stepped over to the mercenary and pulled the arrow out of the body, handing it to Oliver. It had taken a long time for him to get used to Oliver wearing the same hood Shado's father had worn.

And it had taken just as long for Slade to stop wincing at the memory of her.

"Felicity, any word on where the truck is?" Oliver spoke into his earpiece and listened for a moment before looking at Slade. "She's got the tracker route on-screen. They're heading to leave the city."

"What are we waiting for?"

Oliver nodded and listened for a couple of seconds more, then began moving at a fast pace, heading towards a parked motorcycle.

Slade had a brief second warning before he was lurching to the side, a dagger just skimming past his sleeve. Realising that Oliver was looking back at him, he waved him on. "Go catch up with them!" Without waiting for an acknowledgement, he turned... but only just in time, as a blow to his chin sent him reeling.

"Times like this I miss the Mirakuru," Slade muttered... even if that had taken him beyond the brink of insanity.

The man followed with a kick aimed at Slade's chest and Slade caught his foot, throwing it up and letting the man stumble backwards. Grabbing for the combat knife in his boot, he stabbed the mercenary in the neck and let him bleed out.

As Slade took a step back, he heard someone else behind him. He half-turned, raising an arm to block a punch that was aimed at his head... but there were more closing in on either side of him and although Slade fought back, he was rather quickly overwhelmed and punches and kicks rained down on him, resulting in him being thrown back against the brick wall and cracking his head, before losing consciousness.

The first thing Slade noticed when he regained consciousness was that he wasn't lying on the hard, cold ground. The surface under his back was still hard and cold... but it was smooth and there was nothing digging into his spine.

"He should go to the hospital."

The speaker was female, but Slade could tell it wasn't Shado. That wasn't the main concern, though what was a concern was the comment about a hospital. Since he was stuck on the island, there shouldn't be anyone talking about him going to a hospital.

Unless he'd been captured.

Realising he needed to gain as much information as possible (preferably before his captors realised he was awake), Slade opened his eyes to slits... or tried to, anyway. Only one of them obeyed, but it was enough.

Slade could see that he was in some kind of a lab; or maybe a computer room was more accurate, since he could see it looked hi-tech without evidence that experiments were being run.

"I can't take him to the hospital. It would raise too many questions."

The second voice was male and Slade held back a frown as he recognised it belonged to Oliver. But the inflection was different. The Oliver he knew had never sounded this confident.

When Slade focused more fully on the group of three people in the same room as him, he could tell he didn't recognise two of them straight away. The third...

Unless there was another person in the room Slade couldn't see, the third person had to be Oliver. But the kid was wearing a green hood that Slade recognised.

Shado.

Slade must have spoken out loud without realising, because the three of them immediately turned in his direction, revealing that Slade had been right.

It was Oliver wearing the green hood.

The kid (though he appeared older than Slade remembered) moved to Slade's side and although his face was less expressive than Slade was used to, there was still concern there. "Are you all right?"

Slade licked his lips, taking his time answering as he eyed the two strangers warily. When he did answer, he spoke in a quiet voice, unwilling to give up any personal information. "Where's Shado?"

If Slade hadn't been watching Oliver closely, he would have missed the way the kid flinched at her name. He didn't need to ask further. Oliver had just told him she was dead.

Oliver was speaking again and Slade focused on him, wondering again why his depth perception seemed so... off. "What's the last thing you remember?" Oliver asked.

Slade frowned, searching his memory for the answer. It was clear he was missing something. He didn't know how long he'd lost, exactly, but he was certain a good portion of time had passed. The kind of confidence Oliver exuded wasn't somethin that could develop so fast. "I remember you killing your first man. You shot him with the bow Shado taught you to use."

Oliver showed no reaction whatsover. Slade wondered if the kid's mind had broken, or if worse had happened to him that Slade didn't remember. "How long ago?" he asked, his voice a harsh whisper.

Oliver met his gaze and spoke without any hesitation. "You're missing at least two and a half years' worth of memories."

"Maybe he should go to the hospital," the blonde woman spoke up. "They're used to dealing with people suffering from amnesia."

"I don't have amnesia." Slade sat up carefully, noting the way Oliver moved back... as if the kid was wary of him. Had he done something to Oliver that he didn't remember? "I'm just missing some memories," he continued out loud. "Did I get knocked out?"

"I assume so," Oliver answered. "I found you unconscious. We had been fighting a group of mercenaries."

"We're allies, then? Still?"

There was a soft snort that came from the last man in the room. Oliver glanced towards him. "It's accurate, Diggle."

"It's a half-truth," Diggle answered.

Slade looked at the two men and then at the blonde woman. "You're both his allies as well?" He had heard Diggle's comment... but since there seemed to be a truce right now, however uneasy, he felt reluctant to break it.

"We're his friends," the woman said, with the implication that Slade wasn't in her voice.

"Drop it, Felicity," Oliver said.

"You can't tell me she's not right to be concerned," Diggle said. He glanced at Slade and made an obvious effort to pick his words carefully. "Given your history, this could be a trick."

"What do you know about our history?" Slade asked.

"Only what Oliver's told us." Felicity looked like she wanted to add more, but she glanced at Oliver and then subsided.

"If you think you need to go to the hospital, I'll take you there." Oliver looked at Slade.

"I don't need the hospital." Slade pushed himself off what he realised was a table and raised a hand up to touch his eye. He held back a frown as he felt the material of an eyepatch under his fingers and lowered his hand, deciding to check properly later. Thinking of later... "Do I have somewhere to stay? Or am I living here for now?"

"I can take you to your apartment," Oliver offered. "Just let me get changed first."

"Do you recognise this place at all?"

Slade heard Oliver's question, but he was looking around the apartment. It didn't have much in the way of personal belongings... but that wasn't that unusual. Even when he was at home, he didn't have a whole lot that was his... only pictures of his son; his son who wasn't here... and all Slade could think of was that there had to be a reason why his boy wasn't in the apartment with him.

Slade turned to Oliver, looking him over. "Those clothes don't fit right."

Oliver shrugged. "I spent five years on an island. I'm not the rich kid who you met first."

No... he was pretty far from that. But Slade wasn't sure this version of Oliver was any better than the one he had known. Looking around the living room, he saw a decanter of whiskey and two glasses on the coffee table. Studying them, he turned to look at Oliver. "You drinking?"

"I thought I'd let you get settled in."

Slade shrugged. "Doesn't seem like I have much settling in to do. And I can't think of anyone else I might be sharing a drink with." He poured out two glasses of whiskey and held one out to Oliver. "Did you take care of the mercenaries?"

"I did." Oliver stepped closer to Slade, moving with slow, wary steps, and took the glass from him before retreating to a safe distance.

Slade watched Oliver, noting that the kid didn't take a sip until after he had. Slade drained the whiskey and then put the glass back down on the table. "I can't tell if you're expecting me to fuck you or pummel you into the ground."

Oliver had too much control to flinch, but his eyes shot to Slade's face. "I think either is possible."

"I don't remember us as enemies." Slade knew he didn't remember much, but the kid had somehow wormed his way into Slade's defences. Slade knew he had trouble trusting people, but Oliver had become someone he did trust... whose safety he did care about. So while he didn't remember them as either enemies or sleeping together... the latter seemed more believable.

Oliver glanced down at his glass, still mostly full, and then put it down. "Your memories could come back at any time. I should leave you alone."

Slade had perhaps a second to decide if he was going to go with what felt right. He stepped closer to Oliver, moving into the man's personal space, and leaned forward, pressing his lips to Oliver's.

The response might have been automatic... or maybe Oliver was just grabbing for something Slade was unaware of. Either way, Oliver responded to the kiss, the pressure of his lips gentle for a split second before he deepened the kiss.

Slade pushed Oliver towards the couch and encouraged him to sit down. He pinned Oliver to the couch and kissed him deeply, letting his tongue slide into his mouth as his fingers slipped into Oliver's trousers, sliding down to grasp his erection.

Oliver made a small, unrecognisable sound and then arched up to kiss Oliver deeply, his hand sliding up under Slade's shirt. He scratched lightly with his nails and then pushed Slade's shirt up so that his lips could follow the same path.

The sharpness of Oliver's teeth nipping at Slade's damp skin went straight to Slade's cock. He could feel himself beginning to strain against his pants and Oliver must have realised that, because his fingers moved towards Slade's pants, easing them down off his hips.

When Oliver reached for his erection, Slade grabbed his wrists, holding them up out of the way so that he could tease him, tweaking his nipples and nipping lightly at his throat. It didn't take long before he was stripping Oliver's clothes from his body, then pinning the other man to the couch and kissing him hard and passionately.

Oliver came to laying stretched out on the sofa, almost on top of Slade, the other man's arm resting over his back. As he shifted position, careful not to wake the other man, he didn't know what to think. On realising that Slade had lost his memories, he'd assumed that the other man would revert back to the personality he'd demonstrated when they'd been on the island together. Yes, Slade had treated him like a child then... even going so far as to spank him when there was a situation that called for it... but Oliver had at least known that Slade cared about him; liked him, even.

But if Slade was seeing the attraction (or whatever this was) between them and acting on it... did that mean those feelings had been there from the very beginning? Or was Diggle right and this was some new game Slade was playing? A new way to hurt him... to make Oliver lower his defences to let Slade in, only for the other man to turn on him like a cornered animal.

Oliver carefully pushed himself off the couch, noticing that Slade didn't even stir. His lips were still swollen from the passionate kisses... but although his whole body ached, it wasn't sore the way their past encounters had left it.

Slade wasn't a gentle man... far from it... but it hadn't been as rough as before. And there was a part of Oliver that liked the more gentle side of him.

Oliver dressed, his movements slow, looking at Slade's face. Before this, he wouldn't even have considered himself bisexual. He still didn't... not really. For him, it was about Slade. Because no matter the darkness in their relationship... it was real. Real in a way very few things in Oliver's life were.

And that did scare Oliver, even if he did a good job of hiding it. He wasn't sure he knew what this was between them. And he wasn't sure Slade did, either. But the depth of his feelings for this man... this man who had been his friend, then his enemy and was now his sexual partner... Oliver knew that making the wrong decision here could hurt him. Hurt him worse than a lot of things he'd experienced.

One more betrayal could shatter the pieces he'd so carefully put back together.

After one last look at Slade, Oliver left the apartment.

Oliver hadn't got drunk... truly drunk... in a long time. Even now, he wasn't properly all the way. His reaction times were still faster than the average person's. But he was trying to recapture the pleasant buzz being slightly tipsy had left him with in the past. Before the island. Before his whole being had shattered, only for him to put the pieces back together like a jigsaw that was warped and had bits missing.

In his own way, he was as broken as Slade was. And if it wasn't so sad and pathetic, it would be almost funny.

"Buy you a drink?"

The speaker was a blonde woman, drunk enough to slur her words together. Oliver looked at her... past her... through her. She was attractive, in a soft kind of way. Oliver could imagine losing himself in her for a while. And it wasn't like he and Slade had discussed exclusivity.

But imagining it was as far as it was going to go. Oliver gave her a polite smile and drained the rest of his beer. "No, thanks."

The woman shrugged and sashayed off, presumably to try her luck with someone else. Oliver was about to ask the bartender for another beer when he heard his phone start ringing. He took it out and answered, putting the phone to his ear. "Yeah?"

"Did you put a tracker on the van those mercenaries were using?" Felicity asked.

"Why?"

"There's a signal showing up on the screen... Are you in a bar?"

"Not important." Oliver pushed himself from the bar, quickly heading outside.

"I'd say it is important. Alcohol's going to slow down your reaction times... you could get yourself hurt."

"I don't need a lecture about drinking, Felicity."

A hand reached into Oliver's peripheral vision, taking the phone from his grasp. Oliver grabbed for it, but the hand's owner was just a bit too fast for him and he spun round, prepared for a fight... only to drop his hand when he saw it was Slade standing behind him.

"Are they likely to hit tonight?" Slade's eyes were on Oliver, but he was clearly listening to Felicity, because he simply said, "We'll deal with it tomorrow night." He put the phone away, not looking away from Oliver even once. "We're going back to my apartment."

"I'm not the spoilt rich kid you knew, Slade. I'm capable of doing this."

"And I'm not the man you knew. You're still not going after them."

"Then we can go together."

"And did you have a plan in mind, or were you just going to go in shooting arrows blindly? We go back to my apartment. Rest up. Talk it through with Felicity and Diggle tomorrow and figure out a plan."

"I take it you have your memories back."

"That doesn't mean I'm going to let you go off and get yourself killed."

Oliver shook his head. "You don't get to give me orders." He turned, intending to get to his car and follow the tracker. At least he had his own computer with him that was linked into the system at the office.

There was a blur of movement and then Slade was standing in front of him.

Oliver brought himself up short. "Out of the way... or I'll go through you."

Slade stared him down, somehow managing it with only one good eye. "Go ahead."

"You want me to fight you?"

"Yeah. Since you're stubborn enough that it seems you have to learn the hard way. But when you lose? I'm dragging you back to the apartment. And then I'm spanking your ass."

Maybe, if Oliver had been thinking clearly, he wouldn't have taken Slade up on the challenge. Sober, they were evenly matched... but Oliver had been drinking enough to take the edge off. And when he struck out at Slade, the older man dodged easily before bringing his own strike.

Even though Oliver could tell that Slade was holding back, the hits that landed stung enough to keep him off balance. Finally, Slade caught him off guard with a feint and, when Oliver went to block, he grabbed him in a headlock, twisting his arm up behind his back. It didn't hurt... but when Oliver tested the grip, he found it unyielding.

Slade dragged Oliver to the car, only letting go to open the passenger side door. He placed Oliver in the seat and strapped him in, then closed the door and got in the driver's side.

Oliver wanted to ask Slade when he got his memories back, but instead, he found himself saying, "I should have woken you up before I left."

"I was awake."

Oliver glanced at him. "Really?"

"Relaxed and asleep aren't the same thing. I knew when you left, so I went after you. The memories came back sometime after that. Not the first time I've lost time due to being hit on the head."

Oliver nodded and stared out of the window as Slade drove them back to his apartment. Neither of them spoke until Slade parked outside and got out. Oliver undid his own seatbelt and got out of the car, following the other man to the apartment and waiting while Slade unlocked and opened the door.

When the two of them were inside, Oliver walked through to the living room without a word. As Slade followed and sat down on the couch, Oliver couldn't help flashing back to the first time the other man had spanked him. For all Slade had been harsh with him, it was that which made him believe that Slade cared.

Oliver wasn't sure he liked the implications of what that meant for what he'd just done.

When Slade reached for Oliver, Oliver didn't try to fight or protest. Instead, he stepped to Slade's side, crouching and bending over the other man's knees. He let out his breath as Slade wrapped an arm around his waist, drawing him tight against his stomach, before drawing his pants and boxers down.

Cool air wafted across Oliver's backside a split second before Slade's hand landed forcefully on his right cheek. Although he tried not to react, Oliver couldn't help a slightly pained whine when a second heavy swat landed right on top of the first... and then a third in the exact same place.

Oliver held himself as still as he could as Slade continued the pattern down to his thighs. When the other man started over from the top, though, Oliver couldn't help shifting as the burning in his rear increased.

The only sound in the room was Slade's hand slapping down on Oliver's bare skin and the stifled whines and groans Oliver tried to hold back. In a way, it would have been easier if Slade had scolded him. As childish as that would have made him feel, it would at least have given him something else to focus on.

Slade paused when Oliver felt like his entire backside and thighs had been dipped into scalding water. But it wasn't over and Oliver felt himself being shifted forward, exposing the creases between his bottom and thighs.

Very little caused Oliver to cry, but Slade's heavy hand landing on the more sensitive places was enough to cause the tears to slip silently out of his eyes. He felt his body slump involuntarily over Slade's knees, accepting the pain... and what the spanking implied about them.

It took a few moments for Oliver to realise when the hard swats had stopped. Realising that Slade was no longer holding him down, he pushed himself up, replacing his clothing before gingerly sitting next to the other man. "We need to talk. About our relationship."

Slade met Oliver's gaze without flinching. "I'm ready."

The End