Straight Shot ➳ Oliver Queen

13. Back From the Dead

C H A P T E R    T H I R T E E N

BACK FROM THE DEAD

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"There was a storm. The boat went down. I was the only survivor." Oliver started simply, his voice soft and uneven. I couldn't imagine what he was feeling in that moment. Not only had he survived an emotionally traumatizing five years, cold and alone, but he was now being forced to rehash every detail of the agonizing experience. To make matters even worse, this all just reminded Oliver that his father hadn't survived it.

I read an article once about something called "survivor's guilt." It's extremely common, and I'm sure I don't have to explain it beyond saying it's a condition when a person believes they've done something wrong by surviving a traumatic incident when others haven't. Knowing that this was exactly how Oliver was feeling as he stood in the front of the courtroom, it almost angered me. My best friend felt guilty to be alive.

I sat in the front of the courtroom audience, Moira and Walter to my right, Tommy to my left. There was a small number of witnesses sitting on the other benches, along with the judge carefully listening to Oliver's description of the events that unfolded the night the boat went down.

"I almost died. I– I thought I had because I spent... so many days on the life raft before I saw the island." I instinctively curled my hand around Tommy's, setting aside the fact that he had been suspiciously short and blunt with me this morning. Clearly, he set this aside, as well, comfortingly squeezing my palm with his own. The tear rolling down my cheek must have signaled him that I was in need of the comfort.

Oliver continued calmly. "When I reached the island, I knew... I knew that I was gonna have to live for both of us. And in those five years, it was that one thought that kept me going."

The courtroom was so silent that a drop of a pin would have been deafening. Walter held both of Moira's hands to comfort her, my palm still in Tommy's. A dark-haired woman in an official-looking suit gingerly stood up and spoke to the judge.

"Your Honor, we move to vitiate the death-in-absentia filed after Oliver's disappearance at sea aboard the Queen's Gambit five years ago." Oliver slowly glanced back and I found myself instinctively slipping my hand out of Tommy's when we locked eyes. I sent Oliver the best comforting smile I could muster, which wasn't much, but he seemed to appreciate the effort.

"Unfortunately, we will not be requesting that the declaration of death filed for the petitioner's father, Robert Queen, be rescinded." Oliver bowed his head. "The Queen family is only entitled to one miracle, I'm afraid."

We left the courtroom in silence after Oliver had been legally brought back from death. Tommy and I caravanned behind Oliver, Walter, and Moira, lagging a bit behind. Before descending down a staircase in the courthouse to leave, I gently laid my hand on Tommy's wrist to stop him.

"You go ahead, I'm gonna run to the restroom real quick," I said softly.

"You okay?" He asked with a genuine concern.

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine. Just gonna go fix my hair and makeup. You know, girl stuff." I attempted to joke, but my tone came out dry and almost hoarse. Tommy gave a little nod and he gave me a quick kiss on the cheek before following after Queen and Company.

I found the bathroom, which was overly elaborate with chocolate colored walls and white marble countertops. I splashed a bit of cold water on my face and brushed stray hairs away from my face, tucking my hair behind my ears. My soul felt heavy, like it was too much to carry after the session in court. I could still feel it after picking one of the fancy paper towels folded on the counter and dabbing the water droplets away from my cheeks and drying off my hands.