Oliver wasn't there when William David Clayton made his grand entrance into the world. Samantha made sure of it. Not because she was mean or evil, but because she was afraid. She was frightened by the malice and corruption that would make a woman, a mother, write a two-million-dollar check and insist that her son be told this precious baby had died in utero and demand that no one ever know the child existed. Samantha never cashed the check, but she did make sure nobody connected with the Queens ever knew William existed. So, Oliver wasn't there to marvel over the first shaky breath or hear the first shrill scream or to be the first to hold that squirmy, wiggling bundle of amazing miracle. He missed it.
Oliver wasn't there the first the first time William gummed out 'Da da.' Samantha tried not to feel sad because logically she knew D's were an easier sound for babies than M's. But 'Da da' hadn't been there for the colic or the croup or that 104 degree that sent them to the emergency room, Samantha fearing that she would lose this sweet boy who was the center of her life. That very morning, she'd seen on the news where a boat Oliver and his dad were traveling on had gone missing. Presumed lost at sea. She'd felt a moment of profound sadness. Some for Oliver, an irresponsible reprobate who nevertheless really meant no harm, but mostly for William. Samantha had enjoyed a great relationship with her dad. But she'd been a whoops baby, born when her parents were in their mid 40s and thought themselves beyond child bearing years. Her dad had passed her senior year of college, her mother a few years later. As Samantha mourned for the father William would never get to meet, her sweet boy sang 'da da da', a happy anthem Oliver would never hear.
Oliver wasn't there when William tried to make Samantha breakfast in bed for her birthday. He'd seen the idea on an old TV Land sitcom and was fascinated by the concept. Breakfast was awesome. Laying around in bed was awesome. Who wouldn't want to combine the two? Well, probably the person responsible for cleaning up when four-year-old William spilled a huge mixing bowl full of cereal and milk in the bed. But when he'd started to cry, Samantha had calmed him by ranting about how delicious the untoasted bread with huge gobs of cold butter really was and how William was destined to be a famous chef. He'd giggled and beamed and she'd thought about how lucky she was even as she heard the cereal crunch under William's bouncing feet. She felt a moment of sadness that Oliver would never get to see this.
Oliver wasn't there the first time William heard about The Flash while swinging on the playground. William's eyes were big as saucers as Trevor Knolley told him about seeing a crimson streak save a woman who was falling from a sky scraper. Trevor swore The Flash had been so fast that they'd been on the ground a full ten seconds before the woman's shoes, that had fallen off her feet, joined them. William had been fascinated by the idea and had a million questions about how it was possible, none of which Samantha knew the answer to. On the way home the next week, she'd spotted a Flash comic book and bought it thinking William might like. Understatement of the year. He'd loved it. Read it from cover to cover so many times that it fell apart and she'd had to replace it. Twice. William was determined that when he grew up, he'd be a superhero just like his hero, The Flash. Oliver probably would have gotten a kick out of that, had he been around.
Oliver wasn't there when a weird man with blonde hair and freaky blue eyes came into William's room. At first he'd said that William's mom had asked him to look after William and he'd taken him to a big house. William had fun playing with the little girl that lived there. But every time he asked when he could go home, the man just said 'soon.' Later, he'd started asking to talk to his mom, but the man wouldn't let him. After a while, William realized maybe the man hadn't been telling the truth about having his mom's permission. That night, lying in bed in the big room the man had insisted he stay in, William tried not to cry, telling himself over and over that The Flash would save him. But The Flash didn't. Green Arrow did. When William first heard about Green Arrow, he'd thought he was kind of lame. He didn't have superpowers. He was kind of like Robin Hood. But when William finally got back home to his mom, all he could talk about was how cool Green Arrow was, what a great fighter he was, and how he wanted to be just like him when he grew. In his excitement, William never saw how quiet his mom got when he said that. Oliver definitely would have.
Oliver was there the day William's mom died. Oliver was there the day she was laid to rest. He was there at night when William couldn't sleep and cried until he made himself sick. Oliver was there for the first day of fifth grade. He was there for the first birthday and the first holiday without her. Oliver was there to give a blank eyed stare the first time he witnessed William staring after a girl and realized his little boy no longer thought girls had cooties. He was there the first time William called him Dad instead of Oliver and they both pretended it wasn't a huge deal.
Oliver may have missed a lot of the early years of William's life, but he was there the one time William really needed him. There was nothing in the world that could make him miss this.
