Survive - Arrow Fanfiction

Chapter Nine

Olivia trains hard. Each day she pushes her body to it's limit from the moment the sun rises until she collapses into her cot each night in an exhausted heap. Her muscles ache and burn with every movement, but she pushes through it, eager to learn everything that Slade is willing to teach her so that she will never have to rely on a man saving her ever again.

Weeks pass by without any sign of Fyers' men. They eventually get into a routine. Every morning at dawn, Olivia runs, more often than not with Slade by her side, pushing her to go farther and faster each day.

She still has to swallow the urge to tell him to fuck off most days, but she knows he's only pushing her because he cares, even if he isn't prepared to admit it. But he does care. He gave up his chance to get off the island to rescue her, and she's pretty sure that Slade Wilson isn't the kind of man to give up that opportunity for just anyone.

"So what now?" she asks eventually one evening, curious to know his plan because she knows him too well by now to know that he has one.

"We survive," he replies, shooting her a look that says she's a fucking idiot for even asking.

Olivia swallows down her childish retort and instead forces herself to say. "What, you plan on spending the rest of your days here?"

Slade huffs in indignation. "Kid, we have no way off right now. Hopefully my fireworks show has set back Fyers enough that his employer will call his whole operation off."

"His employer?" Olivia asks curiously. In all this time, she has never actually stopped to think what Fyers was hoping to achieve.

"The man's a mercenary," Slade mutters distractedly, his attention focused on sharpening his knife. "We need to survive until a new way comes along to get off the island. Our chances are far higher if you know how to handle yourself."

"I thought that you said if we didn't get on that plane we would die here," Olivia says quietly.

Slade looks up at her then, his dark eyes appraising her. "That dumb kid that I trained wouldn't have stood a chance. The woman that stands before me now, well, she stands a chance."

She smiles for the first time in weeks, and it doesn't leave her face until she falls asleep.

He takes to sparing without a shirt on. She can't help but stare at him, the solid bulk of his chest, the smooth muscle interrupted my scars old and new. He makes her blood boil so hot she thinks she will explode somedays. The rare moments he lets down his guard and his eyes look at her with warmth and what she thinks is affection.

But damn, it's one hell of a distraction.

She ends up in the dirt every time, but each time she goes toe to toe with Slade, she lasts a little longer every time.

Until eventually, Olivia ducks his blow and hits Slade in the back of the knee causing his leg to give out.

"You're improving," he says, his accent thick as he looks up at her proudly. Olivia pushes down the urge to grin like a maniac and shout hallelujah and instead sends him a small smile.

"You're a good teacher." Slade barks out a laugh and holds out a hand for her to pull him up.

She pulls him up, her muscles protesting after their vigorous sparring. An excited smile is plastered on her face. "What now?" she demands eagerly, feeling far too confident with her surprising victory.

"Weapons," he replies, suddenly back to business. He hands her a knife, and shifts his body. Olivia copies his hold and his stance and waits with bated breath.

"Knives are intimate weapons," Slade says as he steps closer once he's inspected her form. He's all business, but like every other time he is so close to her, Olivia finds it hard to concentrate. "Unlike a sword, you're in a close-range combat with your enemy." Slade holds out his hand expectantly, and it takes a few seconds too long for Olivia to realise that he is waiting for the knife. She places the knife in his palm gingerly.

Slade twists the blade's tip around and around on the soft pad of his thumb before wrapping his long fingers around the hilt.

Then he steps up close, far too close for comfort in Olivia's opinion. Slade presses the blade against Olivia's throat, the sharp metal almost cutting into her skin. "The most obvious place to cut is a man's throat, or perhaps even under his chin. They're effective, but you can't rely on them as you're only point of entry."

Olivia swallows tightly as Slade drags the tip of his knife down the vulnerable slope of her neck and across her shoulder. "If you stab a man's armpit, you will incapacitate the arm." The knife dragged further down until it tapped against her leg. "Strike the groin of the inside of the thigh, and you will hit a vital artery that will have your enemy bleeding out in seconds."

Slade let out a breath that has Olivia's eyes snapping up to seek his, but his gaze is locked firmly on the knife as it trails up Olivia's front like a lover's unhurried touch. Olivia shudders as her mouth goes dry. "The belly is a slow death, but it won't immediately stop a man," Slade says, his voice lower than normal. "It takes a lot of strength to drive a blade into a man's chest, and with a short blade such as this, you don't have the strength to penetrate the ribs to puncture the heart of lungs."

Slade abruptly steps back and hands her the knife once more. It takes all of her self control not to step after him. "Come on kid, show me what you've learned."