After being kept in the hospital overnight, Oliver, Sara and Nyssa were told they were free to go the following morning. They were greeted by Moira, who signed for their discharge papers as well as Oliver's green crate – the only possession they had brought back with them - before leading the trio discreetly to a side exit so as to avoid the swarming paparazzi at the front.
Nyssa barely held back from rolling her eyes at the luxurious Bentley that awaited them – chauffer and all – but took her seat in the back alongside Oliver and Sara without a word.
In fact, most of the drive back was in silence, save for Sara asking where her father was, to which Moira replied that, after a long discussion the night before, the two parents had admitted it would probably be best if the three stayed together, at least while they were recovering, and Quentin had reluctantly agreed that the Queen mansion was best.
Sara was careful to disguise her relief that her father hadn't fought too hard to get her separated from Oliver and Nyssa. As much as she was happy to be home, and to see her family again, she just wasn't ready yet, especially when it came to facing her sister…
She mulled over her thoughts in silence, staring absently out the window of the limousine at the passing scenery. As if sensing the blonde's distress, Nyssa wordlessly offered her hand. Sara took it gratefully, squeezing her hand as they pulled off the road and onto the Queens' extensive driveway.
Upon pulling up at the entrance to the mansion, Oliver was quick to exit his seat, racing around to the back of the car and halting the butler from picking up his crate with a quiet, but firm "I've got it."
Although perplexed, the butler acquiesced and Oliver lifted the crate easily before joining Nyssa and Sara. Moira's furrowed eyebrows at her son's behaviour were not missed by any of them. If she had an opinion however, she didn't voice it as she led them towards the front doors.
Oliver found himself assaulted by a thousand memories when the heavy timber doors swung open to reveal his childhood home, a place he hadn't seen for five years. He stopped in his tracks.
Up until now, the sensation of being back hadn't really hit him, not in the hospital, and certainly not when he had been patrolling the streets at night, but here, now, as he walked inside and heard the familiar creak of the old floorboards, the realisation finally dawned on him.
He was home!
A small, rueful smile ghosted across his features, and he subconsciously pulled Sara closer to him as Moira spoke. "Your room is exactly how you left it…" she said cheerfully, "We didn't have the heart to change anything."
Oliver set his crate down inconspicuously in the corner, just inside the doors, when an unfamiliar dark skinned man came out from one of the hallways.
"Oliver! It's damn good to see you." He said sincerely as he approached.
Oliver looked him up and down warily. The way he spoke suggested this man knew him, but he didn't recognise him.
"It's Walter, Walter Steele." The man prompted as he extended his hand.
"Oliver, don't you remember Walter? He was your father's friend from the company." Moira added.
"No, sorry…" Oliver started as he shook Walter's hand. At the feel of cold metal, he looked down and saw a simple, yet exquisite diamond ring on the older man's ring finger. "It's been five years, some faces are a little rusty." He explained after a moment, and Walter nodded at him before he moved past, leaving Walter facing the remaining occupants in the room.
"I'm glad the pair of you survived." He said, moving on to Sara. "I can't imagine what you must have gone through."
"We had each other, Mr Steele." Sara returned quietly "That was enough."
"I can understand that." Walter told her warmly as he placed a hand on her shoulder, before looking to the person at her side. "I don't believe we have met, I'm Walter."
Nyssa took his offered hand. "My name is Nyssa." She said simply, "I was rescued with Oliver and Sara."
Walter raised his eyebrows. "I like your accent. You aren't from the UK by any chance?"
"Oh don't get him started!" Moira interrupted, jumping hastily between the two in hopes of avoiding an inevitable deliberation on why tea is the only acceptable refreshment.
Meanwhile, Oliver had spotted a familiar face. "It's good to see you Raisa." He said, moving towards the Russian lady.
"Welcome home Mr Oliver." The kindly maid said, before looking at Moira. "Mr Merlyn called, he asked if he could join you for dinner."
"Of course!" Moira replied, when suddenly a slamming door echoed through the mansion, and everyone turned to look at the top of the left staircase, where the noise had come from.
"Oliver, did you hear that?" Moira asked, but she got no answer as Oliver was already moving up the stairs.
He stopped when he laid eyes on the one person he was aching to be reunited with. "Thea…" he breathed at the sight of his sister.
Gone were the pigtails and chubby cheeks of her youth, and in their place was a lean, lithe and stunning young woman. Somewhat oddly, despite the warm temperature inside the house, she was dressed in jeans and a long sleeved blouse.
Just like him, she froze at the sight of her brother. On hearing him say her name, she snapped out of her trance and raced down the stairs, practically leaping into his arms.
Oliver staggered backwards when she crashed into him, relying on all of his training to avoid falling down the stairs, and he wrapped his arms around her small frame, pulling her tightly against him, so tightly that he could feel her trembling from the emotions.
"I knew it… I knew you were alive." She whispered in pure relief. "I missed you so much…"
"You were with me the whole time." He told her, and she tearfully buried her head into his shoulder.
Watching from the side, Sara and Nyssa shared a sad look. Should they ever be reunited with their own siblings, they doubted it would be as joyful…
…
After introducing Thea to Nyssa, and allowing her to take them on a tour around the house, the three excused themselves to Oliver's room. Once they were all inside, Oliver shut the door and flicked the lock shut with a barely audible 'click'.
"So, what is it like being home?" Nyssa questioned as she sat down on the edge of the king bed dominating the room, after allowing Oliver the time to re-familiarise himself with the surroundings.
"It's…" Oliver started, picking up the model of the globe that had sat untouched on his desk for five years. He blew off the thin layer of dust that had gathered on it, before replacing it and moving over to the bookshelf. "I don't know what to think. When your father granted us permission to cleanse the city, and fulfil my father's dying wish, I never expected him to allow me to 'return' like this."
"And yet he did." Nyssa told him quietly, "And for that you should be thankful."
"Should I?" Oliver replied, "I mean… up until now I could handle everything, but seeing Thea…" he sighed and turned away. "It just reminded me that one day I'll have to leave her again…"
"That may be so, but did you see the way her eyes lit up when she saw you?" Nyssa pointed out, "At least she knows you're alive now. Whatever the future holds, nothing will be able to take that away from her."
Oliver said nothing
"You'll have made a better place for her to live in, Ollie." Sara said from off to the side, "We both will have, for both our families. Remember that."
She raised her head and kissed him softly on his lips, and in turn he closed his eyes, savouring the sensation.
"I will." He whispered when they broke apart, before turning to look at the entrance to the bathroom.
"I'm going to take a shower, get rid of the smell of hospital." He announced. "Care to join?"
On seeing Sara's unusual hesitance, Nyssa chose that moment to interject. "You go ahead, Oliver." She told him, "I wish to speak with Sara alone."
Looking from her, back to Sara, Oliver understood instantly. "Okay." He said softly, kissing Sara one more time, before walking into the bathroom and closing the door behind him, leaving the two women on their own.
Nyssa waited until she heard the water running, before standing and joining Sara, who was looking out of the window.
"This is about what happened at the hospital, isn't it?" She asked gently.
She watched as Sara looked down guiltily, saw a tear drip from her eye before the blonde nodded.
"I know what you're going to say." She replied in a small voice. "I know it wasn't part of the plan to appear so weak, I just… saw him… coming towards me…"
She was unable to stop a fresh round of tears falling as the memories came back again, and Nyssa was quick to wrap her in a hug.
"My own father…" Sara sobbed into Nyssa's shoulder. The Heir to the Demon said nothing, she just waited patiently as Sara cried her trauma out, releasing the built up stress and anxiety in a way they only could when they were together, away from the prying, judging eyes of the League, or worse, the public.
"Beloved, I am not blaming you for anything." Nyssa said once Sara had calmed down. Still locked together, she led them blindly over to the bed, laying down and pulling Sara close to her.
"You went through something terrible, something that would have killed most people, it is pure instinct that you should act the way you did. Oliver and I, we both understand that. Even Slade understands that, and none of us will let anyone hurt you like that again, I promise."
Sara looked up at her weakly, her bright blue eyes still glistening with water, and Nyssa captured her lips in a soft, passionate kiss.
"You are one of the strongest people I know, to have gone through what you did, and survived it to become who you are now. There is fire in your heart and steel in your resolve, Ta-er Al Sahfer. That is why I love you."
No more words were said after that, they just lay there in each other's arms, relishing the contact until Oliver emerged from the bathroom a short while later with a towel wrapped around his waist.
"I didn't miss out on anything did I?" he smirked when he saw the two together on the bed.
Sara scoffed. "You wish."
Oliver raised his hands in mock surrender, before moving over to the walk-in wardrobe.
He stopped, however, when he passed in front of the full body mirror.
Nyssa and Sara watched on as he just stood there, frozen, staring at his reflection. Neither of them could discern the pained look in his eyes.
"What's wrong?' Sara asked after a moment.
Oliver took a deep breath. "It's been five years since I saw myself in this…"
Sara and Nyssa looked at each other, but neither said anything.
"Everything is unrecognisable. The face I see staring back at me is that of a stranger..." Oliver's voice was grainy, haunted.
He looked himself up and down, taking in every mark, every scar.
"Do you regret getting on the boat?" Sara asked as she got off the bed to stand next to him. Nyssa joined them a moment later.
Oliver was silent for a long time before he answered. "No." he said genuinely, looking between the two. "I don't think there should be any such thing as regret. What's done is done. The past is solid, the future fluid. There is only the present."
"You really need to stop paraphrasing my father." Nyssa told him with a smile, running her hands lightly along one of the scars on his back, coming to a halt on the branded triangular tattoo.
"Our scars tell a story. They hurt us, they broke us, but they also brought us together." She said reverently. "We four are one, and nothing will break us apart."
She took one of their hands in each of hers, and the three stood together, facing each other in a circle.
"Wahid" Nyssa spoke.
"Wahid" the other two answered, before coming together in an embrace.
"Now, I believe it is myself and Sara's turn to use the shower." Nyssa said when they separated. "I suggest you get ready for your dinner." She looked at Oliver, before she and Sara made their own way over to the bathroom.
Oliver watched them disappear around the corner, and momentarily considered joining them, but he quickly discarded the thought and instead busied himself getting dressed before heading downstairs.
…
He was looking through a selection of photographs displayed on a small table – his gaze lingering on the portrait of himself standing next to his father – when suddenly he heard a door close behind him.
"What did I tell you? Yachts suck!" Came a voice Oliver hadn't heard in a long time.
"Tommy Merlyn." He smiled as he turned around and saw his best friend standing in the doorway. Unlike the others, he looked exactly the same as he did five years ago, goofy grin and all.
"I missed you buddy." Tommy said as the two embraced warmly. "I can't believe you're really here."
Upon releasing him, Oliver fixed him with a serious look. "I only survived because of-"
"Ollie! There you are." A bright voice called, and both men turned to see Sara and Nyssa standing behind them.
"Sara Lance! As I live and breathe!" Tommy blanched. He hadn't even heard her approach. "Welcome back, to both you and hellooo…"
His eyes widened when he spied Nyssa, who was standing behind Sara and looking radiant in a maroon dress Thea had loaned her.
He walked over to her and put on his best 'Hi, my name is Tommy Merlyn and I'm a billionaire' smile. "I'm Oliver's best friend." He said smoothly, "And you are?"
"Not interested, Mr Merlyn." Nyssa replied, deadpan, sidling past him and kissing Oliver firmly.
Oliver wasn't sure if he should laugh, or feel sorry for his friend at the way his entire being visibly deflated.
After letting the kiss drag on for longer than was probably necessary, Nyssa pulled away and looked back to Tommy. "And my name is Nyssa." She told him.
Tommy just stood there, his mouth opening and closing without any words actually coming out.
Mercifully, he was saved by Raisa, who came in from the dining room and announced that dinner was ready.
The four moved quickly, if a little awkwardly to the table, where Oliver, Sara and Nyssa sat together on one side, while Tommy sat down next to Thea down the other side, with Walter and Moira at the end.
Sara was surprised to see her father also there. "Daddy!" she gasped happily.
Quentin stood, but he didn't make his way over to her this time, something which made Sara's heart sink. Remembering her conversation with Nyssa earlier, she steeled herself and walked over to him, throwing her arms around his waist.
Quentin was unable to hide his shock. This was the Sara he had known before the Island, and a total contrast to how she had been in the hospital. He hoped that meant she was getting better, and he hugged her in return – though he was careful not to squeeze her too tightly in fear of spooking her.
"Where's Laurel?" Sara asked when they separated.
"She, ah, she got caught up with her work." He answered, "But she can't wait to see you."
Sara nodded, and they returned to their seats as Raisa brought out an extensive meal of rich meats, steamed vegetables and roasted potatoes.
Everyone dug in happily. Everyone, that is, except the three survivors.
It took more than a few minutes of them picking at their food while Tommy brought them up to speed on everything that happened before Moira realised something wasn't right.
"Oliver, are you three alright?" she asked, concerned, "You've barely touched your food."
Oliver sighed. "I'm sorry, mom." He said quietly as he looked up at her, "We've had only basic meals for the last five years."
"Oh…" Moira realised, mentally kicking herself for making such a mistake. "I'm so sorry, maybe we can-"
"Some fresh fruit would be fine, Mrs Queen." Nyssa said politely.
Moira nodded, and called for Raisa to bring some, and everyone went back to their meals.
"Ollie, what was it like there?" Thea asked suddenly, and everyone froze.
Her question had been totally innocent, but there was a nervous tension that suddenly descended around the room.
Oliver, Sara and Nyssa all exchanged glances, seeming to have a silent conversation with each other. The telepathy between them was unquestionable.
Eventually, they turned as one back to Thea.
"Cold." Oliver said.
"Painful…" Sara added.
"Lonely." Nyssa finished.
All three had an identical, haunted voice, one that carried with it a warning against asking any further questions.
Taken aback by their reaction, Thea tactfully decided to let the subject go for now.
It was at that moment that Raisa re-entered the room, carrying with her a bowl of fruit. She accidentally tripped over the carpet, and found herself flying towards the table, only to be caught by Oliver's strong grip on the bowl, and her upper arm.
"I'm so sorry, Mr Oliver-" She apologised.
"There is nothing to apologise for." He replied genuinely, and the maid nodded her thanks before placing the fruit down in front of him and exiting the room.
"Tomorrow, you and me, we're doing the city, you have a lot to catch up on." Tommy told Oliver, "Sara and Nyssa, you're welcome to come too."
"Thank you, Tommy, but Nyssa and I were going to visit my sister." Sara responded, looking at her dad. "I have a family to reconnect with too."
Quentin smiled at her words, before Moira spoke up.
"Maybe you could visit the office while you're out." She suggested.
"I don't know about that…" Oliver began.
"Well there's plenty of time." Moira continued after taking a sip of wine. "Queen Consolidated isn't going anywhere."
Oliver didn't say anything in response. His eyes were drawn to her hand holding the wineglass. More specifically: to the ring on her finger. One identical to Walter's.
"Oliver?" Moira pressed, waiting for his answer.
"Mom, when were you going to tell me?" he asked suddenly.
Moira paused. "I'm not sure what you mean."
"When were you going to tell me you married Walter?"
His voice was completely emotionless, and under the table Sara took his hand in comfort while silence again descended upon the rest of the table.
"I didn't say anything…" Thea said awkwardly.
"She didn't have to."
Moira looked down guiltily, and bit her lip before taking Walter's hand and looking to her son.
"Oliver, firstly, can I just say that I don't want you to think that either one of us did anything to disrespect your father. We both believed that Robert, like you, was gone, and I was always going to tell you, I just didn't want to overwhelm you so soon after coming back-"
"It's fine." Oliver interrupted sharply. He looked back and forth between the two. "I'm glad you have each other."
His voice was genuine, but there was also a palpable sorrow that no one could quite identify as he slowly rose from his seat.
"May I be excused?" he asked, to which Moira nodded. He grabbed an apple from the bowl and made to leave the room.
"Hey, don't forget about tomorrow buddy." Tommy reminded him as he walked past, but Oliver said nothing in reply on his way out.
"I apologise, Mrs Queen." Sara spoke up after Oliver departed. "He told me earlier how hard it is being back. I'm not sure either of us is ready…"
"That's alright dear." Moira replied. "I don't think any of us realised how different you two would be."
Sara nodded her thanks, and Nyssa stood. "If you would excuse us, Mrs Queen, I think it best if we go with Oliver."
She and Sara exited the room, stopping only briefly to arrange a time for Quentin to pick them up the next day, before following Oliver up the stairs.
They found him tossing and turning in his bed. Initially they thought he was having another nightmare, but he hadn't been up here long enough to have fallen asleep. This was confirmed a moment later when he sat up angrily.
"This bed's too soft." He answered their unspoken question, shoulders tense with frustration. "After five years of stone and dirt and that stupid plane, this is… its impossible."
He let his head drop in defeat, and both Sara and Nyssa knew that his issues extended far beyond a simple mattress.
"Then we make our own." Nyssa announced suddenly.
Oliver whipped his head around to look at her. "What?"
"You heard me." She ushered him off the bed, before grabbing the blankets and pulling them off, depositing them messily on the ground in front of the rain-lashed window. A series of small cushions followed, along with a stuffed teddy bear, much to Sara's amusement ("Would you rather cuddle that, or cuddle Slade?") until finally, the three stood in front of their creation.
"See, just like Nanda Parbat." Nyssa said cheerfully.
"Minus all the knives…" Oliver pointed out, only for Nyssa to smirk at him. "Oh don't worry, I have those too…"
Oliver let out a long suffering sigh. "I'm not even going to ask…"
"Indeed you shouldn't" Nyssa answered knowingly, before taking Oliver's and Sara's hands and pulling them down with her onto their impromptu 'bed'
Oliver was instantly more comfortable, both with the firmer ground under his back and with the two women next to him. He drew comfort from their warmth, the protection they provided each other. The reassurance.
This was what they were to each other. For all they had done, all they had been through, they were able to be vulnerable like this around each other, to rely on each other when the demons of the past came back to haunt them. They drew their strength from each other. Together, they were unstoppable. And that was a value far, far greater than anyone could ever hope to take away from them.
Sara curled herself towards him, laying her head on his chest as she so often did, while Nyssa spooned her from behind.
Outside, lighting flashed and thunder boomed, but it was an odd comfort, a reminder of familiar times, and familiar isolation.
"Sara… Nyssa…" he whispered in the dark. "I love you."
He felt, more than saw Sara smile.
"And we, you, beloved." Nyssa returned gently. "Now, sleep."
And Oliver did so.
He kissed Sara's hair softly, before settling back into an uneasy slumber.
As he slept, his mind was plagued with visions from the past, memories that had brought him to where he was now…
…
"What are you going to do kid, stick me with the cure?" Slade roared from his position, pinned beneath the fallen railing of the sinking ship.
Oliver stood over him, an arrow in one hand, cure in the other. A cure for the madness that had infected his former friend.
"It doesn't matter, I'll take away everything, and everyone you love!"
Oliver winced. He had another impossible choice to make. Kill, or cure. The choice should have been obvious, but the deranged rage in the Australian's voice was quickly making him think otherwise.
What if it didn't work? Or what if it did, but Slade still killed his family as he threatened. He had already lost Sara, thrown out to sea by the madman. He thought of his mother, Thea, Laurel. He'd already lost so much. He couldn't bear to lose them too.
"Sara was only the first!" Slade shouted at him. "She was only the first! Your sister! Laurel! Your Mother!"
Oliver couldn't take any more.
His hand tightened around the arrow, and he plunged it towards Slade's eye
"Ollie!" a small voice came from nowhere.
Oliver froze, the arrow stopping mere inches from Slade's right eye.
He knew that voice. It was shrill and weak, terrified beyond belief, but he would recognise it anywhere.
He turned his head to the side, and his mouth dropped open in shock when he saw her.
Sara's head poked around the side of the hole Anatoli had blown in the hull, her hands clinging onto the metal for dear life.
Her fingers were bloody, torn to shreds from gripping onto the ragged metal, her face bruised from the beatings Slade and his men had given her. She was white as a sheet and soaked to her core.
But she was alive!
She was alive and that was all that mattered.
Slade hadn't killed her!
And that realisation brought with it a more simple one.
Standing over the Australian, Oliver bent low, so he was face to face with the man. "You're not going to kill anyone." He growled, in a voice cold as ice, before driving his hand into Slade's chest.
Slade gasped in pain as Oliver stepped back, revealing the syringe buried in his flesh.
The now empty cure syringe!
Breathing heavily, Oliver could only watch as Slade began to groan and convulse as the cure flooded his veins, purging the Mirakuru from his system. He thrashed around, desperate to escape, but it was to no avail, and after thirty seconds or so, he fell limp.
Cautiously, Oliver leant forwards once more and placed his fingers on Slade's neck, searching for a pulse. To his relief, he found one, but that brought with it a whole host of new questions.
Oliver was distracted from his thoughts by a pained squeak from Sara, and he instantly got back to his feet and raced over to her. He pulled her back inside the ship, and she instantly threw her arms around him, sobbing into his chest in pure relief.
"You're okay." He whispered, stroking her saturated hair, "We're both okay."
She never got to reply, for it was at that moment that the ship's fuel tanks ruptured, rocking the hull with a second, monstrous explosion. This one though was more powerful. The hull cracked instantly and the Amazo, like a demonic Titanic split in half and began to sink into the depths of the sea.
Sara instantly grabbed a handhold to stop herself sliding down the floor of the boat as the world around her tilted wildly, but Oliver wasn't so lucky. He was struck on the head by a piece of flying debris and he dropped, out cold, into the water.
What happened next was a blur.
All he got was flashes, images.
The roar of flames…
Seawater, cold and salty engulfing his body…
A strong grip, grabbing him and pulling him through the water…
Gritty sand beneath his body and glorious sunlight on his face…
And through it all, a single, gruff sentence:
"I got you, Kid."
I know this was another slow one, but the action's coming soon, I promise.
It needs to be said that in my story, virtually none of the characters are exactly like they are in the show. Some are stronger, some are darker, some are more damaged. Tommy is still a scoundrel and Slade… Slade will be Slade… (rest assured, he makes his first proper appearance in the next chapter)
I personally like the idea of Nyssa being the glue that keeps them all together. She's the most experienced Assassin, and in my story at least, the most skilled. She's got a calm head on her shoulders while Oliver and Sara are more emotional, and I tried to capture some of that along with the bond the three share.
Hope you enjoyed this one, stay tuned for more.