Chapter 1: Moored to Fears
"Oliver, please, you don't have to do this," the voice was pleading desperately with him, tinged with a hint of hysteria. His mother always had a flare for dramatics, and while he didn't expect her to understand his need to face this head on he knew she would put up a fight about it none the less.
That was one regard of Moira Queen that no one could fault her for. Ever protective—sometimes to a fault—of her children, and especially so after the traumatic experience that had left the small family fractured beyond repair. His father and baby sister's absence was still an open wound, and Oliver knew how difficult this trip would be on his mother in particular.
It was also one of the reasons it had taken him so long to plan this trip.
Not only would he be facing his own fears, but he would have to stand tall. Firmly placating any doubt and persistent pleas to change his mind from others.
His mother's being at the top of the list.
"Please Oliver, this is madness," Moira continued, reaching out to grasp at his shirt sleeve and pulling him back towards her, "you don't have to prove anything to anyone. There's no reason to tempt fate again. No one blames you for not wanting to be on the water again."
And that was the point his mother lost on him.
Oliver wasn't trying to prove anything to anyone, had long stopped caring what people thought of him. He'd given up on public opinion since his return, his playboy past and tragic twenties plastered on newspapers and tabloid articles alike, the internet forums and soundbites playing in the self interest of others for a few extra bucks.
So rarely were the stories accurate, especially after the accident, and Oliver had closed off all interested to the pictures the press tried to capture of him.
"This is for me Mom." He soothed, placing his hand over the one clutched desperately to his arm, slowly extracting the digits from their tight hold. "If I'm going to take over QC one day I need to be level headed. I need to have full control." It was a dream his mother always had for him, and Oliver shamelessly used it against her now. "This trip is for me."
And the truth was just that.
More than anything Oliver wanted to wake up peacefully. Not choking on the nightmares that swamped his mind like the chilled waters that had almost killed him.
Terror was something Oliver had never experienced in his life before the wreck, and it was an odd companion that followed him around in life now. One that lurked in the shadows, the icy fingers reaching out to grasp at his hand when he least expected it.
The feeling was not one Oliver wanted sticking around forever, the thought of always being held captive, held back, driving him as mad as the disastrous day itself.
After many late nights in deep talk with his unintentional therapist and close friend, John Diggle, Oliver had decided enough was enough, he would take control of his life again.
'The best way to overcome your fear is look it in the eye. Stare it down and don't blink.'
The sagely advice had sunk deep into his psyche, the worlds running on repeat. It brought a surge of fear to the forefront, fear at facing the demons, fear at putting himself in that situation intentionally, fear at allowing himself to be so vulnerable, so out of his element.
But the parallels could be drawn to his professional world as well. Swimming with the sharks, the term was an adage of sorts in his line of work, and the irony was not lost on him. It was a world of careful planning and calculated risks, but it was also a wold of unknowns and exhilarating challenges.
How could Oliver ever fully and freely commit himself to the challenge himself if this stupid fear, this incapacitating terror, chased him in the darkest of the nights. Taunting him in the silence of the day.
After waking up for the umpteenth time, mouth choking on water that wasn't there, heart pounding against an undefinable enemy, Oliver had finally had enough.
He'd made the call to John the next morning, asking him to reach out to his friends and set the excursion for his sanity in place.
He would face this demon once and for all, and whoever came out on the other side as was who he was meant to be.
Moira had tears pooling in her eyes, the desperation taking a sharper edge. "Oliver please," she begged, voice wavering, "please don't do this, what if something happens? I can't loose you too. You're all I have left!"
Oliver felt his heart constrict in his chest at the heartbreaking plea. His mother had lost just as much as him that day, arguably more. He could reason this trip would be just as good for her, but could never be so openly cruel to the broken woman.
This was for him, and one way or another, Oliver would preserver.
"Mom," he gently placated, clasping her trembling hand between his own. His eyes sought hers, holding just as firm, willing his conviction to bleed through, to give her strength. "I have to do this," he told her, continuing even as she began shaking her head in denial, "I have to Mom. I can't let this hang over my head forever. I need to put this to rest."
"What if something happens? I can't loose you too, I can't!" Moira fought back, her eyes swelling.
Oliver smiled sadly, raising her hand to his mouth and pressing a kiss to her white knuckles.
"I'll be okay."
The promise felt hollow. He had no idea if he would be okay, what 'okay' even looked like. Oliver had no doubt he would definitely not be 'okay' in most aspects of the word, but that was the whole point to this. He'd already escaped the clutches of death, and now he needed to escape the fingers of terror.
Oliver would not let his life be held back by something so never ending. It was exhausting. It was humiliating.
He was sick of being a slave to his own demons, paralyzed by emotions he had no control over.
There were too many things in Oliver's life he had no control over, could openly recognize and accept that, and the fear was a shackle he needed to shake.
"You don't know that." Moira denied again, her voice edging into anger, trying anything to get him to change his mind.
Oliver shook his head, looking away from his mother's angry eyes, squeezing her fingers harder, willing her to concede to his point.
Oliver couldn't let anything hold him back from this.
He couldn't wake up in a cold sweat every night anymore.
He wouldn't.
No amount of reasoning would pacify his mother though. She had her own demons she needed to face, and his absence would bring them to the forefront.
This was for both of them.
Whether she saw it or not.
"You're right Mom, I don't. But I can't keep living like this, so I have to." Oliver dropped her hand, pulling her into a hug and ignoring the self-loathing clawing at his chest with her staggered exhale, the tears he knew she had been holding back now soaking into his shirt.
"Whatever happens, I have to do this."
Her smalls arms wrapped tight around his back, her form never feeling tinier to him than in this moment.
Moira Queen was a strong woman, and he refused to be the person who broke her. The shell he was now eventually would. He would certainly crumble under her, under everyones, expectations.
This would be the hardest part, leaving his mother, fighting this fight, but it was a fight for his very being, and one he was sick of having the underhand at.
"Just, please, come back to me." She whispered, the grief and fear wavering in her voice. Beyond it all Oliver could hear the motherly love, the desperation at loosing another child, the terror of letting your children into the vast world full of impossible dangers and unknowns.
It stiffened his resolve; to prove to his Mom, to prove to everyone, to prove to himself, that he was stronger than that.
"I will Mom. I will." Oliver promised, knowing in his bones he would.
And for the first time in a year he would be coming home as himself.
Not the scared little boy he felt like now.
"Are you sure you want to do this?" Diggle asked from the seat beside him, the quiet cabin of his Mercedes the last safe haven Oliver would have for a very long time.
A month to be exact.
"If you're not ready we can always hold off. There's no need to push yourself so hard," Digg continued at his silence, his voice free of judgement or concern. Just a neutral tenor he knew Oliver responded best to.
But Oliver didn't want John to ask him that question. He didn't want the luxury of an out, and it was especially tempting now, sitting in the quiet car, gaze fixed to the image in front of him.
To any other the picture was beautifully made. Clean white railings, fresh wooden planks lined out and across like an intricate maze, bright sun shinning on raised poles, shimmering in the light like glitter and swaying softly in the breeze. The effortless crescendo and ebbing of the dock feeling as if the body of water below it's floors was breathing, a small peak into the power hidden within the darkest depths.
A life of its own. A living entity that took without mercy and laughed without care.
He'd discovered that cold cruelty first hand.
Oliver fought to swallow around the knot in this throat, trying to tamper the wash of anxiety that rushed through his blood, the tips of his fingers tingling where they laid limp in his lap.
This was the moment of truth staring him in the eye like a taunting challenge. Daring him to go home, daring him to foolishly jump, daring him to dive head first where he was sure to drown.
A hand on his shoulder shook Oliver from the darker turn of thoughts. He tilted his head slowly to look into the steady eyes of Diggle.
"Oliver, you don't have to do this."
There was no judgement in his gaze, no pity, no concern, and for that Oliver was glad.
He was glad because even as much as he wanted to stay, to go back home and forget about this insanely radical idea, as much as he was willing to suffer in his own turmoil, he knew he couldn't. He didn't get this far to just turn back in the car.
This excursion had been carefully planned, and properly executed. No one on the ship knew who he was, multi-million dollar child, but Oliver didn't care. He couldn't just turn back now, not after everything he'd done to finally get to this point.
Slowly, and with a confidence he hopped was convincing, Oliver shook his head at Diggle. "No. I need to do this," he repeated the mantra he'd been telling everyone, the words heavy in his mouth, feeling more final than they had at his house, standing before him mother. The false pretense stripped here in his final moments of solace.
Diggle nodded, frowning for the first time while retracting his hand. He glanced over Oliver's shoulder at the docks below, a look of remorse warping his face.
"Are you sure you're going to be okay alone?" John questioned again after a drawn moment.
Oliver felt the anxiety clench at his heart with the reminder, trying to imagine what this whole trip was going to look like now with his one lifeline missing. The plan had always been for Diggle to accompany him, help him when things were getting too tough. But Diggle had a separate life outside of Oliver's problems, things of his own going on, a pregnant wife being one, and after an unexpected scare Diggle had reluctantly backed out at the last minute.
It was an understandable decision, and when John had told him he was going to re-schedule the trip Oliver had found himself snapping out a 'no' without thought, faster than he could even comprehend the gravity of the action.
Now, in the quiet leather interior, demons gleaming with white teeth through breaking tides, Oliver was questioning his decision to go through with all of this.
Slowly Oliver shook his head, looking back through the tinted window towards his new home for the next month, hoping it wasn't his last here on earth.
"I came out of the water alone, it's only fitting I go back in it alone."
The worlds were hollowed, the conviction borderline on self-loathing. Oliver knew Diggle could hear it from the heavy sigh coming from the pensive man.
"It doesn't have to be like that Oliver," he reprimanded, clapping him on the shoulder again, "and you're not alone."
Oliver shot Diggle a half smile over his shoulder, knowing the grin didn't reach his eyes by the look Diggle shot his way again.
"Thanks Digg," he simply conceded, not wanting to talk about this anymore. It was finally time to put the money where his mouth was.
With a deep sigh Oliver steeled his nerves, reaching out with cold fingers to grasp the door handle and opening the world to his nightmare.
The first steps out of the car had him pausing, taking in a deep, steading breath. The echoing door opening and closing behind him was lost to the scent of salt, the feeling of the sun beating on the back of his neck, the chattering calls of seagulls that would be his soundtrack for the next weeks on the water. Oliver closed his eyes, centering his strength, drawling from the fear that was clenching his hands, thumping heavily in his chest.
He could do this.
He would do this.
The sound of the trunk slamming closed had Oliver looking over to Diggle, watching as he strapped the small bag over his shoulder, its containing only clothes and a few personal items, before walking over to him.
"You don't have to do that," Oliver commented, knowing he was going to anyways.
"Let me walk down with you." Diggle carried on, ignoring his comment.
Oliver shrugged, tilting his head to let Diggle take the lead. He wouldn't have asked Dig to take him down the pier, but he was glad Diggle knew him well enough to offer regardless.
The walk across the pavement ended soon, and Oliver felt his nerves ramp up as cement transitioned to slanted metal, before ending too quickly wood. He gulped heavily, pausing only a half second as his feet planted on the dock, feeling the unsteady floating sensation that always came when walking along docks. From here the scent of salt water was stronger, the small clapping of water against the sides a mocking laugher to his ears.
Oliver followed Diggle silently, keeping his eyes trained to his wide back, refusing to look around, refusing to loose his nerve.
They turned at the end, coming up to a moored vessel, the size of the boat larger now that he was closer, his eyes roaming across the bright green hull, taking in every detail he could of the metal death trap that would be his home for the next month.
"You okay man?" Diggle asked, pulling him from his musings.
Oliver cleared his throat, tapping the feelings trying to surface down and smiled tightly at Diggle.
"Yeah." He clipped out, trying to lighten the mood and wipe the concern he saw creeping into his friend's eyes, "Relax Dig, it's not like I'm going to hop on and it'll sink right here."
"Actually, that's factually incorrect, statistically for every boat that sinks underway four sink in the slip." A cheeky voice interrupted their conversation, swinging Oliver's eyes to the new speaker.
Beside him he could hear Diggle clear his throat loudly, seeing him shaking his head out of the corner of his eye.
The transformation that happened to the woman before him was almost comical, her smile, so wide and bright dropped with her mouth opening at the look Diggle shot her, her face contorting into mortification as she swung her eyes back at Oliver, raising her arms and waving them wildly in front of her.
"Oh, no, no, we're not going to sink! Not my ship, she's very well taken care of! Most mishaps that happen while moored are entirely preventable. I take very good preventative measures! She's as study as they come," she rushed to assure him, slapping her hand against the side of the metal, wincing at the loud sound it made.
"I'm sorry, I'm not making a very good first impression. My name's Felicity Smoak, it's nice to meet you," the woman, Felicity, continued on, jutting her hand out for him to take.
Oliver stared at her outstretched hand, reaching up and clasping it in his own, feeling a small smile split his lips.
"Oliver." He responded, flicking his eyes up and watching as a wide smile broke across her face again.
She was a beautiful woman, he would be blind to not have noticed. Her blonde hair had been bleached by overexposure to the sun, her skin a sun-kissed hue that seemed flawless and without any breaks. She was wearing simple shorts and a tank top, a tiny logo printed on the side, proper enough attire for being in the exposed elements constantly.
Oliver found that he liked her, this Felicity. Her personality already as bright as her smile.
She turned her attention from him to Diggle in a flash, smiling wider at the man and stepping over to hug him quickly, a delighted laugh spilling from her lips.
"John! It's been so long since I've seen you! How is everyone? How's Lyla doing? I heard you were expecting your first baby!" She excitedly asked, pulling back to allow him to answer.
Diggle smiled at the woman, the joy in his eye obvious to Oliver. They seemed to know each other another well, and Oliver briefly wondered how Diggle had met someone so vibrant, it was a bit out of the ordinary from his normal associates.
"Ah, Felicity, it's great to see you again. Lyla is doing well, we had a small scare so doctors orders were to stay in town and close to the phone. We might have our little one sooner than we think." Oliver already knew all this, it was the reason Diggle was unable to accompany him, and the reminder sent a small fissure through his false confidence. He would never demand Diggle accompany him on this excursion, knew why he needed to be home, but still couldn't help the selfish part of him that longed to have a familiar face on the cruise.
"Well, one day I'll get you to go on a trip with me, but family comes first. You better take care of them." Felicity smoothed over quickly, unconcerned with his absence.
Diggle reached over and clasped Oliver on the shoulder, ignoring the eye roll he shot him. "Well I'd never dream of leaving Oliver in anyone else's hands but your's. I know you're the best coxswain out there.
Oliver shrugged Diggle's hand off, bristling slightly at the barb, "I'm completely capable of taking care of myself," he muttered, blatantly ignored by the two carrying on.
"I'll make sure nothing happens to him on my watch." Felicity swore, nodding at Diggle in all seriousness.
"I can take care of myself." Oliver interrupted again, annoyed with how obviously they were talking over him.
Felicity turned her attention on him, a bright smile on her face. "Well I'm sure you can, and you'll be expected to. There's no dead weight on this cruise, so you'll have to hold your own."
Oliver wanted to be irked at her, even mildly miffed by her caviler demeanor, but instead he found himself smiling. It was refreshing. To not have eyes following your every move in pity, solemn smiles dancing around conversation topics, to be treated just like everyone else.
It was oddly invigorating.
Their conversation was just catching up to him, and Oliver felt his brow furrow, watching Felicity with a raised eye. "Wait a minute, you're the captain of this ship?" He asked suddenly, too quickly to comprehend how standoffish his statement was, but knowing immediately by the look Diggle leveled his way.
Felicity raised a challenging brow at him, her hands folding across her chest and tilting her head at him. "Yes, I am. Do you have a problem with that? Is that judgement I hear?" She retorted with a snap.
Oliver shook his head, feeling a larger smile break across his face, her furrowed brow elating him in unexpected ways.
"No, I'm impressed."
The change was instantaneous, the emotions that played across her face plain and honest in a way that made him curious towards her, to see how far that honesty went. Wondering how open someone could be so effortlessly.
Felicity's cheeks heated up, from her quick defense or something more Oliver didn't know, but the shift was entertaining.
She muttered incoherently under her breath, turning away from them with flaming cheeks and gestured for them to follow her lead. Felicity didn't look back to see if they were before she continued on as if the previous exchange had never happened. "We'll be underway for a month. You arrived just in time, we set off in about thirty minutes. Last minute checks are being done now. The crew consists of essential personnel so everyone has their own job to do and you're expected to not get in their way." A quick look was leveled his way from John, part humor, part concern.
"If you have any questions, ask them, safety is first on this mission and it's never to be compromised." Felicity paused, looking over to Oliver with a raised eyebrow, "there will be no funny business."
Oliver didn't know what 'funny business' was, but he could only nod back with a small grin, following again as she guided them on the boat, showing them specific rooms and spaces as she toured them around the ship.
For as big as the ship looked from the outside, Oliver was also shocked by how small it felt. The rooms were nothing elaborate, their function clear from space to space, no bulkhead or bed left undesignated. Felicity stopped longer on a room that was equally as small as the others, two beds and a small desk crammed into the square footage. Everything compartmentalized in a way that screamed efficiency over comfort.
"This will be your room for the next few weeks, your bunkmate is Barry Allen, he's a good guy, just a little clumsy." Felicity explained cheerily, waiting for Oliver's nod of understanding before spinning on her toes, leading them further into the ship, showing him the galley, the research rooms, the helm room, and pointing out her own quarters.
Finally Felicity made her rounds to a complete stop back on the main deck, breathless and with a smile from the non-stop chattering that had been coming from her mouth.
"Any questions?" She asked, her eyes as bright in the sun. Oliver shook his head, watching as she turned towards Diggle, her smile taking on a cute frown. Felicity leapt up suddenly, engulfing the larger man in a hug. "Oh John, I'm going to miss you! Don't be a stranger and let me know if you need anything."
Dig patted the much smaller girl on the back, smiling at her when she pulled away.
"You be safe Felicity." He parted.
"I always am!"
She shot her eyes back to Oliver, pointing back towards the direction of the ship's cabins, her animated personality capturing him.
"You can go put your bag in your bunk and make yourself at home. I need to head up and get everything ready. We'll be leaving any minute now. It was nice to meet you Oliver, I'll see you around!" And just as suddenly as she made her appearance earlier she was sauntering away, laughing at crew members and hollering things in her wake.
Oliver reached a hand up in parting, a small lift to the corner of his mouth, eyes following her retreating form a moment longer. He turned his gaze to Diggle, jumping a little at the look leveled his way.
"What?" Oliver challenged to the blatant stare.
"I think you'll be just fine," Dig told him easily, handing over the strapped bag slug over his shoulder.
"Knock it off John."
Diggle laughed lightheartedly, a confident grin on his face. "You've got this man," he told him easily, "and if you need anything Felicity has a satellite phone."
Oliver nodded, taking the bag from Diggle and looking around the deck at the crew members mulling around, steadily moving equipment and re-checking safety ropes and lines.
"Thanks Dig." He muttered, exchanging the final goodbyes, taking John's hand in quick shake and brotherly pat on the back, feeling for the first time like he could possibly do this.
And, just maybe, he could succeed.
Oliver watched as Diggle disembarked the boat, his eyes finally scanning about once John slipped from sight. Finally alone, for the first time, the sounds of seagulls and sea claps in the air, Oliver could feel the threat of apprehension brewing just under the surface.
Crew members moved about, pulling lines and shouting over each other before the blast of the vessels horn sound through the bright day. The final ropes were pulled and Oliver could only watch as everyone worked with a practiced ease
Slowly walking to the edge of the ship, pausing an arms length from the side, his mind wandered, stomach lurching as the boat began squealing and moaning in ways that only a motor could.
With a final blast of the horn and engine reeving at the ready, the ship began a smooth moving acceleration, pulling away from the pier through the water steadily. Oliver knew the moment they were completely free of the pier without even looking, his heart thudding like a weight in his chest, his final escape gone for the next four weeks.
He was now headed towards every nightmare that waited for him in the deepest recess of his mind.
Though the haunting images would surely come to whisper sinister horrors to his mind, Oliver couldn't help the small smile from slipping on his lips, a tiny victory shinning on his bleak thoughts.
With an effortless grace, the commanding coxswain had him on board. And Oliver realized that throughout it all, so enthralled he was with Felicity's animated flare, not once had he felt the bitter tension of anxiety clawing at his chest.
The hardest part was over.
And he had never felt anything but ease.
Oliver's eyes shone over the sparkling blue of the ocean, a new fire in his chest.
He would do this.