Chapter Text
For the third time in twenty minutes, Oliver walked the aisle of the plane. He hated sitting still, always had, but even more so now after his third tour of the Middle East. If he sat still, he was an easier target to hit, easier to see unless he was hunched in over himself with his desert fatigues covering every bit of skin when he hid in the sparse bushes, sighting in a scope.
But the order had come in from command and he was tossed on a cargo plane going to Landstuhl just as quick as he was able to pack his bag. Duty done, back to home, pretend that none of this had ever happened and back to civ life. There was no such thing though. Not now, not when his life was so firmly divided in Before and After categories.
Oliver wished that there had been a break between his journey from hell to Germany and from Germany to Star City. He would have changed into a t-shirt and jeans, even if he had to buy them at an overpriced souvenir shop. Instead he was wearing clothes that stank of sweat, sand, blood and guns. There had been no time to change into a clean set before he had rushed to his jumpseat and strapped in, no time before his flight left Frankfurt’s International airport.
A frail, reedy sounding voice saying “Thank you” startled him out of his thoughts and back into the present. He untensed enough that he could move and nodded at the old woman and her knitting who had spoken. Another reason he wanted to change. He didn’t want people thanking him. It wasn’t why he had enlisted to begin with, and he sure as fuck didn’t deserve it after everything he had done in the name of ‘freedom’. She absently patted his hand softly. “You’re a good boy. My grandson wants to join up too, but he is going to college first. Computers. He says it’s the way of the future. Bah,” she scoffed, returning to her knitting. The click clack of the needles were rhythmic in a way Oliver didn’t know he needed until he felt his jitters calming down. “I remember when Leonard went off to France, and they told us then that it was all computers too. I’ve been through it all, there will always be a need for people on the ground.” She nodded firmly, and Oliver knew that she wasn’t talking to him anymore when she added sadly, “there will always be people to thank.”
He went back to his seat, folding his oversized body into the too small chair and shoved in the headphones the airline had provided. Head barely on the headrest, he closed his eyes. God, he just wanted to be home.
When he came through security, her heard a yell of “OLLIE” that could have pierced the heavens and barely had time to turn before he caught the person running at him.
“Speedy!” His sister wrapped herself and the giant sign she was holding around him, crushing him as he held her tight in a hug that was more soothing than any drug he could have been given.
She pulled back, pushing brown hair out of her face and smiling up at him. He absently noted that he didn’t need to look down as far to meet her eyes as he had when she had seen him off. “Oh my God it is so good to have you back home and you’re really here and oh my god you reek,” she stepped away from him slightly, grinning the Queen grin that he felt forming on his face too.
“You know me. Had to keep myself reminded of you somehow.” It was after he had reset his bag on his shoulder that he noticed the sign she was holding.
WELCOME HOME LT QUEEN
While it was Thea’s writing, the amount of glitter filling in the writing made him unable to recognize it for a moment. “Where did you even find that much glitter?”
“I might have bought out the town. Preschools everywhere are going to be in agony for weeks,” she told him. He looked down at his clothes, worried he was going to find himself covered in specks of silver and gold that he would never be able to get away from. “Don’t worry, I modge-podged it. You will remain badass and glitter free.”
“Thank God for small favors.” He snatched the keys she had been tossing into the air out from in front of her. “I’m driving.”
“What? You think I’m letting you drive? Do you even remember how to drive?”
“Thea, I was in Iraq, not on Mars.” The sweat from Star City heat and exhaust was starting to slip down his back again.
“Exactly my point,” she argued, taking her keys back. “You didn’t need to worry about things like roads or pedestrians or trees or hitting things…” Thea stopped cold and almost dropped her sign when she closed her eyes, wincing. “Shit, Oliver. I’m sorry.”
He took her keys from her hand again. “As well you should be. What the fuck, Thea. You know you aren’t allowed to curse, dammit.” He didn’t wait for her to react before walking towards the preferred parking lot. “Mom waiting in the car?”
“About that. No, she’s…” A long suffering sigh came from his sister as she caught up with him. “She’s in a board meeting with chairs that apparently could not be missed. Or rescheduled. For anything.” It had the sound of the end of an argument that had happened several times over already. Thea wrapped her hands around his a moment before pulling away with the keys for the blue mustang in front of them. “Come on, I’ll buy you your first meal back home. What do you want?”
“Honestly? I would about die for a burger and sweet potato fries right now.” It was all he had been waiting for months out in the desert. The fries especially. There were only so many things the mess hall was able to make in large enough batches for the squads out there, and sweet potato fries had not been among them.
Thea barely waited for him to close his car door before she threw the car into reverse. “Big Belly Burger it is.”
They went through the drive through at Big Belly, and while Thea kept it light with a salad and some fries as a side, Oliver came pretty close to ordering everything off of their value menu. She pulled off onto one of the side roads that wound around the outskirts of the city, roads they learned how to drive on due to the lack of traffic, before they both dug into their meals. It was far easier to eat with one hand and drive with another when you didn’t have to constantly stop at the lights and shift into lower gears. There was a comfortable silence as they ate, the radio playing ‘the new pop hits!’ about the only noise aside from wheels on the road and the wind through the windows. It was only after the last wrapper had been crumpled and tossed into the paper bag for trash that his sister slowly began to make their way back home.
Comfortably full of burgers made from questionable ingredients, Oliver leaned back in the passenger seat of Thea’s car as they drove to the mansion. He hadn’t been home since his tour began, and had spent months in close confines with other men and women to the extent that there was no such thing as privacy or personal space for him anymore.
Even though the Queen house was huge, he knew when they rounded the drive and it came into view that he wouldn’t be able to stay there for long. All he could see were the different places defenses could be breached. It was something that his commanding officer, Captain Diggle, had warned him might happen once he returned home. It was something that the imposing man had dealt with himself, the way he talked about it.
“So, have to ask,” Thea said, pulling Oliver’s thoughts away from the house and back to the car as it rolled to a stop. “Why the camo?” She waved a hand at him, over him. “You have the fancy duds. I thought you would want to be all fancy when you came home.”
He shook his head and unbuckled his seatbelt. “Dress Blues are a pain in the butt. They have to be clean, have to be pressed in a very specific way so that the creases are the right size and in the right spots. There is nothing good about them.” Hefting himself out of the low to the ground car, he waited for Thea’s head to pop above the roof before he shut his own door and pulled his bag from the trunk she had opened.
“There has to be something good,” she pressed on.
A half shrug with a shoulder. “They thought giving me a sword was a good idea.”
“I think that she was hoping you would be wearing them for this.” she muttered darkly. “Typical.” She stopped him with a gentle hand on his shoulder as he reached for the door. “Just...before you go in. Brace yourself. Mom kind of went a bit...crazy with you coming home. And might have invited the entire city.”
“I thought you said that she was in a board meeting?”
“She is. And will be by later. She had me set it all up.” His sister made an apologetic face at him. “Kinda sorry, but not really because it is really good to have you home?”
With that she opened the door and he was left to walk in by himself. There was a crowd waiting in the foyer of what he had once considered home and as he stood facing them, applause started on one side and passed through like a wave until the room was filled with its thunder. His seabag dropped to the wooden flooring and he shifted from foot to foot as he tried to regain his bearings at the sudden influx of people.
Thankfully, Thea followed in right after him, welcoming what he was positive actually was all of the Starling City elite, saving him from coming up with any words on the fly. It was probably for the best; any of his recent speeches were more along the lines of don’t let the other bastards kill you and keep yourself alive long enough to get out and go home. Thea was better at being a hostess, she always had been. Even at a young age she had been able to command the attention of a room, charm it to her will. Hell, she charmed Oliver to her will more times that he was willing to admit, and he still would do anything for her.
So he played the dutiful son, circled the room and the people, held them at arm's length with handshakes and an easy smile. It wasn’t who he was then, but it was who they all expected now. To them War was nothing more than a game on a computer or an image from the news. He waited until they were all distracted enough by the Welcome Home Oliver food and drink to slip upstairs and into his room.
With a sigh of relief, Oliver finally shed his clothes in a trail from door to bathroom. The water was set at near boiling when he walked into the shower and he was a lobster red before he felt clean enough to use the crisp white towels without turning them black.
The bathroom mirror was covered with steam. Wiping away a streak with his towel, he was able to see that while he needed a shave, it wasn’t an immediate concern. It could wait until tomorrow. He made sure the towel was covering his important bits before opening up the bathroom door, stepping out of the hot humid air and into the cooler air of his room.
And then, God, but it felt good to be back in Civvies. Jeans, henley picked at random. Socks without holes where his big toe poked through. It was still armor, but of a different sort than the tight fitting kevlar he had gotten used to. He did debate about putting shoes back on or going barefoot, but in the end being prepared won out and he shoved his feet back into the combat boots that he swore had actually grown around his feet.
The knock on the other side of his door startled him for a moment and he barely managed to catch himself before he went to a prone position in readiness for a fight. A deep breath. He was okay, it was all okay. “Yes?”
His mother opened the door. “Oliver.” She sounded like she had seen a ghost. Heels sinking into the plush blue carpet, her walk to him was silent. “Oh, baby. You’re home.” Oliver felt his muscles stiffen a moment before he relaxed and returned her hug.
They stood in a bubble, mother and son, for a brief moment while time stood still around them.
It popped when he felt her pull away. “Why aren’t you downstairs? I thought you would be happy to see everyone.”
“I was honestly happier to see a shower, mother,” he told her. “And rediscover how wonderful clean clothing is.”
“Oliver, everyone is downstairs for you.”
He scrubbed a hand over his face, through his hair. “I didn’t ask for this, mom. No party, no nothing. All I wanted was to come home and to sleep.” His words were honest, earnest, begging her to understand that what was downstairs was the life he had left behind when he had signed on with the Marines and not one he wanted to return to.
“Just for an hour or two, Oliver. Everyone wants to know you’re back safe and offer their congratulations to you.” He shook off her hand from his shoulder and she frowned slightly. “Now is not the time to act as though the rest of the world doesn’t exist. From your letters, it sounded like you had experienced enough of that. It’s why I had everyone gather tonight.”
“Which is a great thought, don’t get me wrong.” Oliver brushed past her as he spoke, snagging his leather jacket from the hook on the back of the door. “But really not what I needed suddenly sprung on me my first night back from a war.”
His arms went through the sleeves with more force than was probably necessary, he later admitted to himself. There was also the possibility that he was sharper with his mom than he strictly needed to be, given that she had thought she was doing a good thing.
“I’ll go out through the garage so they don’t see me leave,” he called back to her. “Don’t wait up.”
Those realizations would not come until the light of morning.
For now, as he climbed onto his Ducati for the first time in forever, his own thoughts were to get away. Maybe to get a drink, meet a girl.
Get himself off in a way that didn’t primarily come from his own hand like it had been for the last four years.