The island had been...well there was really no right way to describe it. There was hunger, aching, fear, anger, worry, and fatigue, but the one feeling that Oliver could not stand was the feeling that his body just wanted to slip away. Maybe it was the exhaustion finally kicking in when he was safe in the wrecked plane after Slade's so called 'pleasantries', with food, water, and a place to sleep. Oliver lay on his space of rest -not really a bed in his eyes, Oliver believed that a bed was not a bed without a mattress- for what felt like hours and every night for many weeks after he still would.

The young man was uneasy. Slade could kill him whether he was asleep or awake so there was nothing he could really do about that. He wasn't really sure, but he had a feeling that if he were to die it would most likely be of his own doing, not Slade's. After all, that had nearly happened when he had stood on a mine.

Oliver was trusting his gut on this one. Yao Fei had sent Oliver to this Australian, so he had to be the best chance Oliver had of getting off the island. Slade was his only chance and the only chance was always the best.

Over the next few years, Oliver would not just befriend and trust this man. He would come to need him, not just in the way he needed him now; for protection, training, supplies, and to help escape the island, but for something much greater. To cope. To keep Oliver fighting, not just for the need to survive, but to want to.

That's what, looking back, Oliver thought he may have been losing. Don't get him wrong, he didn't want to die, but in moments like these where he was safe, he could sleep knowing there was someone nearby who could watch over him. He had no worries, if only for the night. His usual passing out from exhaustion was still set to happen but, this time it was different. He closed his eyes and thought of the places he would go and the things he would do.

Now it was different, very different. Oliver would lay there and mentally he was fine. He would push away the worries and try to sleep but physically it felt as if his body was betraying him. He was dizzy and the world spun just enough so that if he looked at the floor it would appear as if it had started gradually moving up the wall like the plane was rolling. His breathing was deeper than normal but not loud. It wasn't enough for Slade to worry or care. Oliver almost felt like his blood was slowing in his veins. His body overall felt like it was shutting down.

After their time together, Slade was amazed at the fighter Oliver had become. His smarts and speed at reacting were quick to develop which gave Slade high hopes of the kid's success. Over time the kid would become faster, stronger, and more knowledgeable with weapons, hunting, herbs, general medicine, and technology. Slade made sure Fyers never found out about his skills as it gave the pair an advantage every now and again.

Slade kept an eye on the kid to make sure he didn't fall into mental issues like depression or PTSD which would be likely seeing as he had little training to deal with living like this. For now he would just have to get over it. The older man generally joked with the kid and in the few moments of peace the pair chatted. Slade had good people skills, even if he had to fake it now and again, but the kid was closed off, especially at night when he would just stare at that same old picture.

Numerous weeks later, Slade found an iPod while looking for a bar of soap in what Oliver dubbed 'Slade's big box of crap'. Indeed it was, though Slade normally kept everything in its place due to years of military training, anything spare and/or not overly important was thrown into the box. The iPod was a vibrant blue. He had spotted it one night when he had sneaked around a camp where it lay forgotten next to a tent. Slade was not a stupid man, nor was he paranoid, but every new thing he took which he believed could be bugged would be stashed in the woods for a day. If there was no proof of trespassing (which there wasn't but you could never be too careful) he would open it up and, upon seeing no bugs, he would keep it.

"Hey," Slade called to the younger man. "Do you like music?"

Oliver turned around as he had been making his way to his bed. A smile had pulled at his lips, thankful that he could put off trying to sleep for a few more minutes, because of the odd question. "Music?" he questioned, "Wouldn't that give us away?" He cocked his brow. What was Slade up to?

Slade held up the iPod by the main wire of its earphones, "Not if we use this." He looked at the music device, "Found it a while ago, bug free." He grinned, turning back to Oliver, "Well?"

Oliver smiled. "Okay."

Oliver guessed Slade was planning on listening with him, which he didn't mind. In fact, his smile grew. He wanted to see what the older man's taste in music was. However, Oliver was a little lost on how they were going to do this.

Slade stood up from next to the box and waved the kid to follow him. Slade sat down on his makeshift bed, leaving room for the kid to join. He turned on the device, running his fingertip over the circular pad to see what songs were on it.

Oliver watched the older man for a while, not knowing what he would do if he lay next to him.

A grin pulled at Slade's lips. With his spare hand, he patted the space next to him, never taking his eyes or hand from the iPod.

Oliver was taken aback but before he could overthink anything, he pushed himself forwards and made his way to the bed. Once he got there, Slade laid on his back and shifted slightly to make himself more comfortable.

Slade grabbed an earphone. Raising his arm so it was propped up on the elbow, he flicked his wrist back. "Earphone," he said simply.

Slade and Oliver lay pressed up to each other because of the lack of room. They were both a little tense and Slade almost completely stiff, although his facial expression betrayed no discomfort. With an earphone each they listened and spoke about the music. Slade had the iPod so if a song came up that Oliver didn't like he would simply say, "Next," and Slade would press the button to skip to the next song. Oliver was not heartless; he always looked over to see what the older man thought about the song. Slade actually liked an odd song here or there that Oliver didn't, but it made the man happy. Songs he actually liked didn't come around that often, so Oliver let him listen.

Oliver liked a song with a good beat, something he could imagine a story happening to. His life had been great, and maybe it wasn't right now, but Slade was helping even if he didn't mean it. As a kid, music was about the adventure and wonder. As he had got older he found that music allowed him to be the kind of person he wanted to be. Take away Fyers and his men, the lack of food, and replace Slade with a man attracted to Oliver. A man who deep down Oliver knew would be a lot like Slade; strong, smart but not smug, a hell of a body with dark hair and eyes. That was who he wanted to be.

Slade's choice in music seemed to be more lyrical, all the words were clear and well written. For that reason all the songs he seemed to like were slow, minus Eminem, whom Slade had never heard before but seemed to like very much. The rapper had a place in Oliver's heart too. The guy was a talented writer; his music was catchy and funny.

The iPod had been filled with compilation albums, things like 'Greatest Hits!' or 'The Best of...' Oliver had noted that all the albums were new and pointed out that there was nothing personal about it. Maybe the owner was just shallow.

Slade chuckled. "So this man works for someone like Fyers, kidnapping and killing just for the money, but is sensitive about people knowing he doesn't like," he made quotation marks in the air, "the popular music?"

It was more of a statement than a question but Oliver still replied, "Everyone is sensitive in different areas." He was about to continue to list examples like music, weight, looks, and so on, when Slade rolled onto his side, faced away from Oliver, and laughed. Oliver sat up and put a hand onto Slade's shoulder about to roll him back over and ask what he was laughing at when he realized the innuendo.

Oliver glared at the back of the Australian's head. He held the scarf over his eyes which in turn covered the rest of his face below. The joke wasn't that funny, but it brought a smile to Oliver's face. He was glad to see the man laugh.

Things would get worse but being with Slade would always make things better, even if after this moment he knew that he wanted a man, this man, but couldn't have him. A dream is just that, a dream, nothing more. However, when you think about it, if you want that dream badly enough, maybe it was worth trying for.