Chapter Text
Oliver couldn’t believe his eyes. Right as he was planning another visit to a person on his father’s list; Slade showed up. He hadn’t seen the Australian since the time on the island when the man taught him how to defend himself…amongst other things. Now here he was standing in the middle of the alley in Oliver’s City, Starling City. What could his mentor want after their last argument? It was obvious that Slade knew that beneath all the dark green leather and green clothed hood it was Oliver who roamed the streets protecting its citizen’s.
“Well, well, well; look at where I found you…Ollie.” Slade spoke into the littered side street.
God, that accent… Oliver thought as he stated, “How…did you find me?”
Slade crossed his arms over his chest and looked around him, “No wonder you wanted to return here, it’s exactly like the island. Well, there isn’t any star’s which is a shame. Remember those nights under starlight?”
Oliver’s body shivered on its own accord as several memories forced themselves to the forefront of his mind. Shaking his head to the present Oliver stated slightly, “O-Of course…”
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He had a firm handshake, Oliver noticed after the trained killer confessed to training him in his art of survival. In all honesty he was definitely a little scared. After Wilson, god was he really going to name him after the coconut from castaway? Master? Sensei? Teacher? No, Slade would do unless he was told otherwise. From the way Slade was built muscular wise, Oliver could tell this was going to be hard. Even so, just as soon as the pact was made, the Australian removed his hand, wiping it along his jeans.
“Well then, we are going to start early in order to whip you into something useful in the next three months.” Slade stated then turned towards his own sectioned off portion of the downed airplane.
“What are you going to teach me?” Oliver asked sheepishly.
Slade looked over his shoulder at the younger man thinking how wonderful it was going to feel, breaking that billionaire boy and rebuilding him from the ground up before he stated, “Well, I like swords. You need to find a weapon you like. Go to sleep.”
“Right. Night.” Oliver said, turning away and headed towards his corner where he had previously slept albeit, troubled sleep.
Once Oliver was alone he brought out the picture that helped him keep his sanity. Although the woman was smiling in the picture he could only imagine what her features looked now since he was responsible for her sister’s death. Many nights were plagued by the fact that he had murdered her and then he witnessed his father kill a man then himself. Tonight was no different except that there were more horrors to add to the list, near the top was the masked man who had tortured him with sharp knives for several hours or was it days, Oliver didn’t remember how long he was tortured since the pain made time non-existent. Sighing to himself, Oliver placed the picture back in his pocket and tried to close his eyes and slip off into unconsciousness.
“Wake up brat!” Slade yelled, tossing a bucket of cold water on the sleeping boy.
“Wh-What?! I’m up! I’m up! What…the hell?” Oliver stated as he squinted in the barely visible light from outside, feeling the cold air hit the wet clothes.
The killer looked down at the boy with a feral smile stating, “Time to train boy!”
Oliver lazily got to his feet, water dripping down his clothes. He stumbled forward a bit, his body trembling from the cold. Before he realized it, Oliver asked, “Why so early in the morning? It’s so cold right now…”
“Don’t worry, for what I’ve got planned you won’t be cold for long!” Slade retaliated as he headed for the door; Slade grabbed a wooden stick and said, “Better start running.”
“Wait, what?” Oliver said as he looked at the taller man, his eyes widening.
Slade barred his teeth in a wide grin as he said through gritted teeth, “Run.”
“Wa-“ Oliver started to say when Slade smacked him along his upper back, making him scream out.
“I. Said. Run.” Slade squeezed out. Oh yes, this was definitely going to be entertaining, he thought to himself, ready to slap Oliver’s back again. Before he could get a good swing in, Oliver had run past him for the exit at a dead sprint.
“You’re insane!” Oliver called behind him towards Slade, who was now following right behind him.
Slade was excited, adrenaline was coursing through his veins as he chased behind the little man. He hadn’t felt this thrill since he trained at the academy with Billy. There was even the familiar heat traveling from his chest down to his groin making him erect. Yes, there will indeed be more training following this day, more than one style of cardio workouts. Until he broke his new toy, Slade continued on his task stating, “You’ll have to do better than this boy! If you want to survive, first you need to know how to run!”
Oliver ducted beneath a low hanging branch just to snag he foot on a buried root nearby, bringing him into a tumble. He rolled a good two or three times before he hit a tree, momentarily stunning him, knocking the breath from his lungs. There was a stinging sensation as Oliver heard the wooden rod hit his side ribs several times. Covering his head with his arms, Oliver curled into the fetal position and waited for the assault to stop and soon realized that the end wasn’t coming.
“Get up and run! If you fall, use the momentum to bring yourself back to your feet and continue to run! Are you just going to give up after you fell? Is this all you got? There’s no chance of you seeing that girl in the picture if you constantly give up!” Slade screamed at the huddled figure.
“Ouch! That hurts!” Oliver stated frantically.
Slade didn’t slow down the pace of the smacks, instead he stated, “Get up and run! We will be doing this every morning until lunchtime! If you can’t cope maybe you should go turn yourself into the mercs and let them kill you?!”
The pain was excruciating but Oliver needed to persevere in order to make it out of this hell hole. Despite what his body told him, Oliver grabbed the stick and quickly got to his feet and started to run, not caring that the wooden stick was torn from his grip in the process. He strained his body, making sure every muscle worked past its limit. There was so much he needed to change in order for him to just survive; his upbringing was a telltale sign of the difference between the two men.
“That’s right! Run with all you got! You have to surpass your own limits!” Slade jeered from behind, all the while watching the boy’s ass bounce as he ran.