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The Flames that did Rise

Chapter 12: Exploding, Blinding Lights

Summary:

Oliver decides to rescue Slade.

Chapter Text

"Man overboard. It's Slade."

As soon as Oliver delivered the news to the engine room, he turned and strode as firmly as he was able on the tossing ship to the stern where Dinah breathlessly peered at the waves.

"Do you see him?" Oliver demanded.

"No," Dinah gasped out. "He was checking the deck fill when the boat tilted. When it turned the other way, it tossed him off-balance and he was just gone!"

Nyssa approached on Oliver's other side as he squinted his eyes, searching the water. Abruptly, Oliver said, "Keep looking! I'll get the life buoy."

Oliver ran with uneven steps as the deck slipped under him. The storm seemed determined to finish what Chase had started, shaking the entire vessel with seeming anthropomorphic intent. He could scarcely see more than a step in front of him due to the blanket of water falling from the sky.

Oliver grasped at a handle on the outside of the boat's tower to hold himself steady. He gripped on, clenching his teeth tightly as the crash of thunder followed a lightning strike directly overhead.

Felicity hadn't been wrong – the entire situation made him feel like he was trapped in a nightmare from ten years ago. The storm and the sea were intimately tied to the night that Oliver's life veered completely off course. The night that, as the Queen's Gambit sank in the ocean, he, his father, and a crewmember were buffeted on an impossibly small lifeboat awaiting death.

Oliver breathed deeply, pushing the memories aside, then reached up to grab the bright orange, circular buoy.

As he turned around, he saw that Felicity and Curtis had joined Nyssa and Dinah on deck. Felicity pivoted towards him, and he could read the expression on her face, even across the deck and through the rain.

It was despair.

Her blonde ponytail was weighted down and her soggy clothing accentuated the heavy expression. And because he knew her and her every look, even from this distance, he knew that her eyes were full of withheld tears.

The expression wasn't fear for Slade Wilson. Oliver knew Felicity didn't like Slade - but this wasn't about Slade.

This was about another lost life and the steadily dwindling hope that any of them would survive Chase's attempt to exact his revenge on Oliver and everyone he loved.

And as certain as Oliver could be about anything, he knew he would do anything to erase that expression from her face. Felicity was Oliver's hope. His anchor. If her belief were to fail? What would Oliver have left to continue on?

Oliver looped the ring of the buoy over his shoulder, taking the coil of attached rope into his hand. He walked, stumbling as the sea buffeted the ship and reached his onlooking teammates.

"Did you find him?" Oliver asked.

Curtis pointed out at something rising and then vanishing in the waves. "There," he said.

Oliver's heart sank. The form had to be at least 100 feet off the boat already. There was no way the rope in his hands was 100 feet.

Pushing aside his fatalistic musings, Oliver stood up straight. He held the coil of rope loosely in his left hand. With his right he pressed as much force as he was able into the toss which sent the buoy rotating through the encompassing rain. With a splash, the buoy hit the water. As it did, a small light flashed on, then off, then back on, indicating even in the darkness where the life preserver rested.

Oliver squinted against the spray and wall of rain. The light flickered and the buoy climbed upwards with one wave, then dipped and vanished as the water moved towards the boat.

The figure which Curtis had pointed out seemed to drift further away. It certainly wasn't moving towards the preserver.

"He's not moving," Felicity noted tightly.

"Maybe that wasn't him?" Curtis suggested, voice choked with tension.

Nyssa dissented. "I would bet my life that was him."

"He might not be able to reach it," Dinah added.

Oliver stepped back from the railing. As soon as the thought entered his mind, he told himself he couldn't. William was counting on Oliver to be his father. He had just lost his mother, and Oliver had promised William he would be his home.

There was Felicity. She had just told him they could try again to figure out where they fit in with this messy new normal.

There was Thea, clinging to life below. Oliver was her only family. She would rely on him to ensure she received the help she needed.

But he couldn't face any one of them – couldn't look at himself in the mirror - if he didn't try.

Felicity must have caught onto what Oliver was considering because she was suddenly before him. "Oliver, don't," she warned, voice low with emotion, hand coming out to rest on his chest in a beseeching motion.

"Felicity," Oliver replied, trying to show her he was sorry with his eyes, "He needs help."

"He killed your mom," Felicity bit out. "He terrorized our city and upended your life!"

"And he was also a trusted friend who I abandoned – who I tried to kill because of actions outside of his control." Oliver took a breath and tried to explain, "You saw Roy on Mirakuru. You didn't hold Roy responsible for the death of that officer, did you?"

Felicity didn't answer the question, instead whispering, "Oliver -"

"He agreed to help us, Felicity. He has paid penance for what he did, and, even when given the chance, he didn't turn on us."

"That doesn't mean you have to go on a suicide mission!" Felicity cried out. "He might not be moving because he is already dead. And for you to risk your life -" She shook her head. "You have too much to lose."

"And that makes his life worth less than mine?" Oliver asked. "I have had the time to build a life that Slade hasn't had. Slade has been trapped in his own purgatory for 10 years."

"But William needs you," Felicity pled. "need you. Please, Oliver, don't do this."

Oliver's voice became self-assured. "I have to be the kind of man who does the right thing no matter the cost for William. I have to be able to hold my head up for my son."

"He won't care," Felicity declared. "What he cares about is you being there!"

"But I care," Oliver said. "When I look into his eyes, I want it to be with the clearest conscience I am capable of." He nodded towards the water, voice lowering into a plea for understanding. "I can't not try."

Without giving Felicity a chance for further rebuttal, Oliver turned around and shoved the remaining coil of rope into Dinah's hands. He admonished lightly, "You'd better hold on." Then he turned towards the railing.

Even as his feet shoved him off the ground, he could hear Felicity scream his name in horror. His body vaulted over the railing, and he aimed his head downward, hands out in front for a dive.

As soon as he hit the water, he realized why he shouldn't have gone in headfirst, as the vest tugged at his body and bolstered him up even while his momentum fought to thrust him forward. It felt like he was being dragged unwillingly upward by some invisible hand.

He broke the icy surface with a gasp. He looked over his shoulder and was struck by the fact that already the boat was a good thirty feet behind him.

"Oliver," Curtis' call rose over the storm. "You good?"

Oliver thrust a thumbs up into the air, then turned, searching for the line of the rescue buoy. The water was inky black around him and he couldn't see a thing. Oliver thrust his hands under the surface, groping. His search came to a sudden halt as a wave smashed him over the head, sending him careening directionlessly.

The chill of the water stole his breath and for a brief moment he was shocked to realize he couldn't tell which way was down and which was up. The life vest took the decision making out of his hands and he resurfaced by force of the vest's buoyancy the next moment, sputtering.

Oliver had scarcely turned around, eyes marking the quickly distancing boat, when he saw the next wave. As the sea rose before him, Oliver chose to dive under the crest.

Oliver opened his eyes under the chilly ocean to see nothing but darkness. A thrum of fear struck through his heart as his body primally realized that there was nothing below him besides kilometers of dark, crushing water.

This time as Oliver broke the surface, he remembered – this could not be the way he died. Everyone on that boat needed him. Especially William.

And most of all he knew if this was the thing that killed him – Felicity would never forgive him.

Oliver collected himself and choked down the automatic part of him that told him he was in danger and he should panic. The next two waves lifted him upward with them, letting him glide down after, no longer attempting to swamp him.

And that's when Oliver saw it. The flickering light.

The light on the life buoy that had been in the same direction as Slade.

Now with a goal in sight, Oliver set out with intentional strokes, slowly approaching that light. He paused his motion to check for Slade and make sure his direction was correct; Oliver saw no other figure in his sightline, so he put his face back into the freezing waves and continued on.

Oliver reached the life buoy, locking his hands within the ropes wound on the frame. He looked back towards the boat and found that the boat looked a very long way off now – he was likely over a hundred feet out.

Oliver searched his sight line. The waves buffeted his body and he worked to brace himself for each one.

"Slade?" Oliver yelled, trying to beat the howling of the wind. "Slade?"

His cries seemed to be eaten up by the roaring of the storm around him. He suddenly felt foolish. Of course Slade had been drowned in the waves. There would be no way to find him, and the only thing Oliver had done was to place a second life, his own, in danger.

But even as the thought entered, he pushed it aside. He had meant what he said – he owed it to Slade to try. Owed it, even, to the memory of Sara being sucked away by waves the night of the Queen's Gambit, left to suffer on her own.

Slade had been out, past the point where the life preserver could reach. With fresh determination, Oliver released the buoy, and floated again, further from the boat and from safety.

With even breaststrokes, Oliver cut through the waves, sometimes allowing them to carry him overtop, sometimes piercing them and cutting through. Every few strokes, he would stop to tread water, looking in all directions for another figure in the water. Then he would ensure he spotted his lifeline in the form of the steadily blinking light, before resuming his swim.

The time flowed by endlessly. Oliver guessed it had only been minutes since he had entered the water, but it felt like an eternity.

And then there. Something orange caught Oliver's eye.

Oliver swam directly towards it. As he neared, Oliver could identify a body: his heart sank.

The figure was face down in the water, arms and legs limp and being manipulated by the waves into gentle oscillation. Slade Wilson was dead.

One more body to carry home.

One more failure.

Oliver swallowed hard and continued towards the form. He would bring Slade home.

As Oliver paddled closer, feet away, the head lifted and Slade sucked in a breath of air, before dropping his head back down.

Oliver could have laughed in shock. Slade was alive. Slade was alive and using the dead man's float to conserve energy.

Reaching Slade, Oliver grasped Slade by the arm. Slade jerked in surprise, then allowed himself to turn his body so that his legs pointed towards the ocean floor. His legs kicked steadily, treading water.

"That you, Kid?" Slade asked harshly. Through the darkness and rain, Oliver could see how haggard Slade looked.

"Come on," Oliver ordered, not bothering to answer the question. "We've got to get back."

Slade shook his head. "Tried that. The boat's too far off."

Frustration welled inside Oliver at the hopeless response. He hadn't come all this way to have Slade give up. "But the life buoy isn't," Oliver countered. "Come on – I am not leaving you here."

"Can't, Kid," Slade admitted. "I've got nothing left. These waves have taken it out of me."

Oliver could only imagine. His own muscles ached and lungs burned from his swim, but his life vest ensured Oliver didn't expend energy into staying on the surface. Slade was fighting against the waves in full armor, with only his own strength keeping him afloat.

"I don't accept that," Oliver said sharply. "Now, hold onto me."

Slade reached out to grasp at one of the loops in Oliver's life vest. Oliver noticed that he was discernably lower in the water after the grip, but he chose to ignore that and, instead, turned towards the blinking light.

There were moments the buoy seemed to move further out of reach. A few times when Oliver stopped to get his bearings, he found that he had veered off course and had to adjust his direction: but, at once, Oliver paused to find it again in his sightline and found it only feet away.

Oliver reached out and, scarcely believing he would find it solid beneath him, his fingers closed around a rope. Oliver reached back to grab Slade by the back of his suit and hauled him around. Slade came to grab onto the edge next to Oliver.

For the first time, Oliver was able to clearly see Slade's face through the storm's darkness. Even with the little light they had, Slade's face looked gray with exhaustion.

Oliver glanced back at the boat, still nearly a couple hundred feet away. Would his team be able to haul two grown men back through these waves?

Oliver didn't have to wonder long. In Oliver's grip, the buoy lurched and gave a tug towards the boat, then stopped. Another yank, then a rest. Oliver quickly linked his arms together, one arm wrapped through the buoy's rope hold.

Slowly, foot by foot, Slade and Oliver were dragged back to the boat. As they neared, Oliver allowed Slade to grasp onto the ladder at the back and scramble up. Curtis appeared over the edge and grabbed at Slade's jacket to help haul him in, and Dinah joined in grasping his arm.

For a moment, it was just Oliver left, peacefully bouncing up and down on the waves, holding onto the buoy. Then Curtis' head peered over the side. "You're up!" He called.

The next thing Oliver knew, his feet were back on the deck. His muscles trembled with the exertion of swimming through the water and he was chilled through from his soaked clothing being struck by the screaming winds. He was shocked when a blanket was draped over his shoulders by an even-expressioned Nyssa Al Ghul. He opened his mouth to thank her when –

with a streak of blonde hair, his lips were consumed in a breathless kiss.

Oliver's eyes widened in surprise, but as Felicity molded herself against his body, hands steadying his face in her grip, he melted into it.

Felicity pulled back, and with hands framing his face, Felicity said in a low, frightened voice, "Never do that again."

Oliver swallowed and nodded wearily. That was an agreement he thought he could keep.

Felicity dropped her hands from his face and leaned into him. Oliver wrapped his arms around her, blanket enveloping them both. A moment of peace in the midst of their own, personal hell.

Oliver could feel Felicity sigh against his chest, and then she gently pushed away. She looked at him with swimming eyes and said, "Now, if you are done playing hero," Oliver grimaced with embarrassment, "it's my turn."

Oliver raised his brow in question.

"Curtis and I can get this boat started again," Felicity said confidently. "We even know the first thing to try."

"I believe it," Oliver said. "You can do anything – fix anything - you try to."

She shot him an appreciative smile. Then she pecked his lips again. As she pulled away she said, "Okay. I'm going. I swear."

Oliver smiled as Felicity began walking backwards towards the engine room, eyes still locked with his. She stumbled a bit, and then, with a little wave towards him, she turned around and vanished through the hatch after Curtis.

Even after she was gone, Oliver still stared at the doorway above her.

"Oliver?" A voice called to his right. Oliver's eyes shot away from the hatch to find a pale Rene.

"You should come downstairs. Now."