A/N: AU of seasons 1 and 2, mostly. Sara died when the ship went down, and Oliver chose to cure Slade of the Mirakuru at the end of the season 2 flashbacks. This story also features an OC created by Riter's Fury for her story "The Darkest Part" (which is awesome; you should read it) who she let me use. He shows up in chapter two.

Pairings: Oliver/Felicity, Slade/Adeline, Laurel/OC, John/Lyla, Thea/Roy

Chapter One "Haunted House"

"Sorry about your eye," Oliver said as the island faded in the distance.

Slade grunted a vague reply.

The fishing boat rocked from side to side, making Oliver wish he'd come up with another plan for getting off the island. One that didn't involve so much tossing and rolling across the ocean. He'd had enough of that.

"Are you sure this deception is strictly necessary?" Slade asked, though it was more of a critique than a question.

"Would you want to tell your family where you've been all this time?" Oliver replied.

"I'd want to tell my family anything."

Oliver should have expected that. In the past three years with all their comings and goings from the island, Slade still hadn't been able to discover the whereabouts of his wife and son. He suspected they had gone into hiding after his disappearance. From what Oliver could gather of how little Slade talked about them, his wife was some kind of super-spy too which would make finding them more difficult. Oliver had promised to help in any way he could, but his entanglements with ARGUS and the Russian mob had made that a bit difficult. But that was all over now. They were going back to Starling City. It was time to fulfill his father's last wish and his promise to Slade.

Oliver looked back at the shadow of Lian Yu as it disappeared into the fog. "I almost thought we'd never really leave," he said.

Slade looked at him with a bemused expression. "We won't," he said.

"Can you be positive about anything, ever?"

"Can you be realistic?" Slade shot back.

"In a non-metaphorical sense, yes."

"Physically leaving the island isn't leaving the island, kid. I've got a feeling you'll never really leave it behind, and I know I won't."

Oliver waved his hand dismissively. "But there will be showers and comfortable beds and food that doesn't come out of a can or the woods."

"Thought you liked my cooking." Slade smirked.

Oliver shook his head and stared out at the sea around them. He couldn't wait to be off the water and on solid land again. His detours to Hong Kong and Russia hadn't exactly been a relief from the nightmare of the last five years. But Slade was right; going home wouldn't be a picnic either. He was going to have to come up with a convincing story for his family and get started on his father's list. And then there was Laurel. Oliver didn't have the first idea how to talk to her or if she would even give him the chance. Probably not.

###

From the high vantage point of the hospital window, Starling City looked deceptively similar to the way Oliver remembered it. He knew a lot must have changed in the past five years. His one visit back hadn't been pleasant, and he worried about what he might find even in his own family. He couldn't put it off any longer, though. His mother would be there any minute. He'd talked to her briefly on the boat, but this would be the real reunion.

Oliver heard her coming before she even opened the door. He had to remind himself not to react as if every noise were a threat. He turned slowly, trying to smile, to reassure her he was okay. He wasn't, but she couldn't know that. She hugged him and cried, and Oliver cried too. After all this time, he hadn't anticipated how good it would feel to be with his family again, even if everything was wrong.

"Mom," Oliver said pulling away so he could look her in the eye.

"What is it, Oliver?" She was still worried. As if he might disappear from her arms again.

He smiled for real this time. "There's someone I want you to meet. He's the reason I'm still alive. I was thinking..."

"What?" Moira smiled now that they were talking, now that it felt real.

"I was thinking maybe Slade could stay with us for a while."

"Slade?"

"My friend. The one who kept me alive on—on the island."

"Of course," Moira said quickly. "Don't worry about anything, Oliver. I'll call ahead and make sure there's a room prepared for him. And I'll tell Raisa to set another place at dinner."

"I'll see if I can convince him," Oliver joked.

A few minutes later, Oliver was dressed and ready to leave the hospital. They walked down the hallway and into the next room where Slade was nowhere to be seen.

"It's just me," Oliver said loudly. "Please don't knock my mother out with a bedpan."

Moira stared wide-eyed at Oliver.

He caught a flash of movement to the right behind his mom. Slade stepped out from behind the door, already fully dressed.

"It doesn't hurt to be careful," he said.

Moira's gaze turned on him, magnifying her shocked expression. With the eyepatch, the scruffy beard, and hiding behind the door, Slade did look kind of terrifying.

"Mom, this is Slade Wilson," Oliver said, trying to keep his tone of voice light. "He was stranded on the island too."

Slade offered his hand. "Pleasure to meet you Mrs. Queen."

"Um, yes..." Moira stammered, shaking his hand. "Oliver says you saved his life."

Slade glanced at Oliver with a triumphant expression. "Did he say that?"

"Maybe not in so many words," Oliver replied.

"Whatever the case," Moira said. "If there's anything I can do to thank you, please let me know."

"Dinner is already a given," Oliver said. "And you can stay with us while you're here."

"It's more than enough." Slade directed his comment to Moira. "Oliver saved my life almost as many times as I saved his."

Moira looked from Slade to Oliver, and her smile widened. "Let's get you two out of here."

She led the way out into the hall, and Oliver and Slade came behind her.

"You gonna carry that thing with you everywhere?" Slade asked, glancing at the case Oliver was carrying.

"Just a little while longer. Until I find a place for it."

Slade nodded knowingly and didn't say any more. They couldn't talk about Oliver's plans out in the open like this, but it was nice to know someone knew what he was doing, someone he could trust and not worry about.

They reached the limo, and on the way back to the house, Moira talked about what had changed in the past five years. She seemed to sense that neither Oliver nor Slade felt much like talking and filled the silence herself so they wouldn't feel awkward. She was good with people like that.

As they approached the house, Slade looked out the window, and his single eye widened slightly at the sight of the mansion. Oliver hadn't bothered describing his family's home since it didn't seem relevant, but now that he thought of it, it might have been a good idea to prepare Slade. Maybe give him some blueprints or something so he knew where all the exits and weak points were.

Oliver stopped himself as he was beginning to imagine an enemy siege on the house. It was the paranoia talking.

They all got out of the car and headed inside. As Oliver expected, Slade was taking everything in as if to be ready for a quick escape. In the entryway, a man Oliver vaguely remembered approached them.

"Oliver!" he said. "It's damn good to see you."

Not knowing how to reply, Oliver merely stared in response.

"You remember Walter Steele? Your father's friend from the company," Moira said. "Walter, this is Slade Wilson."

Oliver wasn't really paying attention anymore. He was looking around the room, remembering everything from the life he had left behind five years ago. He heard footsteps overhead and moved toward the stairs. If he hadn't been back a couple of years ago and seen her, he wouldn't have recognized Thea now. She had grown from a little girl into a young woman. Oliver hoped she was doing better than the last time he had seen her.

She ran down the stairs and hugged him tightly. "I knew you were alive," she said. "I missed you so much."

"You were with me the whole time," Oliver lied. Of all things, he had avoided thinking about his family during the years of darkness and violence. In quiet moments, he considered what he was sparing them from, but he didn't dwell on the idea of them.

###

Everything from the limo ride to the mansion that looked more like a castle came as no shock to Slade. He had expected something like this, though he was aware of the irony in him being invited home for dinner. Oliver's mother hadn't asked a lot of questions; she was just happy to have her son back. But she would certainly ask eventually, and Slade needed to have a story. Ever since Oliver had proposed this plan of his, Slade hand been coming up with a plan for the occasion. His only concern now was acting the part he wanted to play. It took the full measure of his self control not to stalk all over the Queen mansion, analyzing every exit and strategic point. He settled for noting the nearby exits and windows and having a plan in case he needed to escape quickly. Realistically, he didn't see that happening, but his brain simply worked that way after so many years facing danger every day.

Oliver was on alert too until he reunited with his sister. Slade took up the slack, paying close attention to what Oliver's mother and Walter were saying. He wondered who this Mr. Merlyn was. But he would find out soon enough.

After everyone had been introduced, Thea led them upstairs. "We didn't exactly know you were coming," she said to Slade. "Because Ollie didn't say anything." Here she glared at her brother. "But Mom always keeps a few guest rooms ready."

"If it's any trouble—" Slade began.

"It's not. Honestly, this place feels like a haunted house sometimes with all the empty rooms. It'll be nice to have people here."

That wasn't ominous at all. Slade got the feeling Thea hadn't adjusted well to losing her father and brother at such a young age. He thought about Joe and wondered if the boy would even remember his father now.

"... and you'll be right here," Thea was saying as she gestured to a closed door.

Slade realized he had let his mind wander and forced himself back into the present. Oliver was standing next to another door that must have led to his own room.

"Let Raisa know if you need anything," Thea said as she turned to head back down the stairs.

"Thank you," Slade said, hoping she hadn't noticed his inattentiveness.

She smiled. "You're welcome. Dinner will be in about an hour."

As she left, Slade glanced over at Oliver who was still standing by his door, unmoving. It was almost as if he were afraid to open the door. His empty fingers twitched the way they always did when he didn't have a bowstring to rely on. Slade crossed the space between them and put his hand on Oliver's shoulder.

"Kid," he said.

Oliver turned his head as if surprised to find Slade there.

Slade nodded toward the door.

Taking a shaky breath, Oliver pushed the door open and walked into the room. He looked around the space as if he didn't recognize it.

Slade stood in the doorway. He noted the large window, a weak point. Several other doorways led to either closets or possibly a bathroom. More hiding places. He needed to stop thinking like this. Oliver needed to stop thinking like this.

"At least it's bigger than the plane," Slade said, trying to keep his tone light.

Oliver turned back to face him. "Heat and air conditioning too," Oliver joked, but his heart wasn't in it.

"And running water," Slade continued. "Might be nice to wash off the hospital smell."

"Yeah." Oliver nodded, his attention wavering as he gazed around the room again, staring out the window but not really seeing anything.

"Guess I'll get settled then."

Slade wasn't sure it was a good idea to leave Oliver alone, but he seemed to need some space to process everything. It was different for Slade. He wasn't home. This place was just as foreign to him as the island had been and just as easy to detach himself from. But emotional distance wasn't something Oliver was good at during the best of times.

The guest room was just as big as Oliver's room, but it didn't have the same character. It was like a very expensive hotel room. Slade put the bag of clothes Oliver had bought for him in the closet. He didn't bother unpacking because he didn't know how long he would be here. Only long enough to dig up some leads on his family's whereabouts and help Oliver get started on his list.

After a shower and trimming his beard down to a reasonable length, Slade checked the time. Oliver was probably ready by now. As he walked back down the hall, Slade heard voices.

"... yachts suck," the unfamiliar joking voice said.

Oliver's response indicated that the voice belonged to Tommy Merlyn, the person who was joining them for dinner. Slade recalled Oliver mentioning Tommy once or twice. There was some kind of encounter in Hong Kong.

Slade waited in the hall until the two of them came out of Oliver's room. Tommy was a cheery individual, blissfully unaware of the horrors his friend had faced. It was just as well.

"Don't tell me," he said when he saw Slade waiting for them. "The mysterious savior Thea mentioned?"

"I'm not that mysterious," Slade replied, shaking Tommy's hand and introducing himself.

Tommy glanced over at Oliver. "You were stuck on an island with a guy named Wilson?"

Oliver looked mildly embarrassed. "That joke is five years old, Tommy."

The three of them headed downstairs to the dining room. Moira, Walter, and Thea were already seated at the table, and dinner was about to be served. Slade wanted to laugh at the idea of someone serving him dinner after all the time he spent hunting and butchering his own meals. It wasn't as if he hadn't been back in civilization off and on in the past three years, but nothing like this.

Tommy did most of the talking at dinner until Thea asked, "What was it like there?"

Slade looked at Oliver, knowing he wasn't going to tell her the truth. "Cold," he finally said.

"Only because you couldn't start a fire to save your life," Slade said, hoping to lighten the mood.

"Yeah, tell them about the time you watched me try for two hours when you had a lighter the whole time," Oliver replied.

"It was the highest quality entertainment I'd had in a year."

"Were you there before Oliver?" Thea asked. She did ask a lot of questions.

"Yes," Slade said. "By about six months."

"Were you shipwrecked too?"

Slade noticed the worried look in Oliver's eyes. They hadn't talked about Slade's cover story, but he needn't have concerned himself.

"It was a plane," Slade said. "There was a malfunction, and we crash landed on the island."

"We? Was someone else with you?"

Slade had considered how he might answer such a question and concluded it was best to say yes. He nodded. "My family," he said. "They didn't make it." It was easy enough to appear upset about the fictitious deaths of his family since he still didn't know where they were.

The conversation shifted after that and ended with the revelation of Moira and Walter's relationship which Oliver pretended to be upset about. But Slade caught the wink he threw at his sister as he left the table. Slade followed Oliver out into the hall.

"Was that really necessary?" he asked.

"I'm reacting the way they'd expect me to," Oliver said, putting up that mask of calm indifference that never fooled Slade.

"You sure you're not just reacting the way you feel? They probably wanted to ease you into it."

"I don't need to be eased into anything. But they can't know that. No one can know. We have to keep up appearances."

"That's going to be difficult if you insist on leaving in the middle of the first decent meal we've had in months."

"You didn't have to follow me."

"Yes I did. Keeping up appearances, remember? I'm the familiar, comforting presence that helps you get over your traumatic experiences." Slade's voice dripped with sarcasm.

Oliver glanced back at the doorway to the dining room as if someone might follow them. "If you want to back out..." he said in a lower voice.

"I'm not backing out," Slade said. "I'm just asking you to be honest with yourself even if you're lying to everyone else."

"So are you."

Slade shook his head. "They're not my family. It doesn't hurt me to lie to them."

"I'm fine." Oliver turned toward the stairs.

"You'll never be fine," Slade called after him. "Thought you knew that by now."

Oliver ignored him as he disappeared upstairs. Slade thought about going back to the table, but he didn't want to answer all the awkward questions that would arise from the scene. So he headed back to his room and sat down at the desk which thankfully faced the door. He didn't think he would find much on his family using one of the Queens' computers, but he had time, and it couldn't hurt to look.

###

It was nearing midnight, but Slade couldn't sleep. His unfruitful search had ended hours earlier, but now he was hungry. What little he managed to eat at dinner had not been sufficient. He was used to being hungry of course, but now that he didn't have to be, it was more difficult to convince himself to go to sleep.

He finally made up his mind to go down to the kitchen and see if there were any leftovers. He was sure no one would mind. The halls were eerie in the darkness, and Slade understood what Thea meant about the place feeling haunted. Every shadow seemed to hold a threat. The moonlight coming through the high windows only distorted things and contributed to the atmosphere.

Slade made it downstairs and found the kitchen without incident, but as he slipped through the door, he noticed a light coming from a large freezer across the room. Someone was in there rummaging around, but the door was blocking his view. With every sense on high alert, Slade crossed the tile floor silently, using the shadows for cover in case the intruder turned around. He reached the freezer door and pulled it back, ready to fight.

Thea screamed and dropped the gallon tub of ice cream she was holding. "What are you doing?" she demanded, wide-eyed and breathing heavily.

"I was hungry, and I thought..."

"That a burglar was stealing all our frozen food?"

Slade couldn't help smiling. "I guess so."

"You almost gave me a heart attack. You know you look really scary in the dark?"

"I've been told."

Thea picked up the ice cream tub and set it on the island in the middle of the room. "Spoons are over there," she pointed to a drawer.

Slade returned with two spoons, but Thea didn't have any bowls.

"I eat it straight out of the container all the time," she said, taking a spoon from him. "Just don't tell my mom."

Slade took a seat next to her. "I'm very good at keeping secrets."

As Thea dug into the ice cream, she kept talking. "Sorry about earlier. Mom say's I ask too many questions. We just never talk about stuff..."

"It does not bother me," Slade replied. "If I don't want to answer, I'll just say so."

"Okay, so maybe you could tell me how you met Oliver? You said you'd been there longer."

Slade considered which details he should share with Oliver's sister. He couldn't tell her about Fyers and Yao Fei, obviously. "He found my plane," he finally said. "And I almost killed him."

"So, did this happened while you were there?" Thea made a circle around her eye with the end of her spoon.

"That was an accident. Oliver was trying to help me."

Thea grimaced. "You guys must have been through a lot."

Slade nodded. "And you," he said. "It couldn't have been easy not knowing."

"No," Thea agreed. "One day I had a dad and a brother, and then... I tried to keep believing they were alive. Now that I know Dad's gone and Oliver's back—I don't know. It's not just gonna go back to the way it was."

"Nothing ever goes back to the way it was. Everything changes. A little or all at once."

"I'm sorry. You must know what that's like."

"I often wonder if it might be better not knowing. Or is it worse?"

Thea seemed lost in thought for a moment. "Maybe. It depends. It was better not knowing my dad was dead, I guess, but I think the truth is always going to be better in the long run."

Slade nodded. It wasn't the answer he was looking for. He almost thought he would rather not know if his family were dead just to hold onto the hope that he might find them someday.

"Thanks," Thea said suddenly.

"For what?" Slade asked.

She shrugged. "Talking to me like a normal person. You know, not just an obnoxious kid. I think Oliver still sees me as a little girl."

"He's your brother; he'll always see you as a little girl. My son was five years old the last time I saw him. It's hard to imagine him being twice that now."

"A lot can change in five years," Thea agreed. "I just hope Oliver's not too disappointed by what he finds."