file ; oliver terrence wood -
name / oliver terrence wood
age / twenty six
birthdate / march 18th, 1996
occupation / harry’s hardware & unofficial handyman
♱
vice / pride / superbia
virtue / good works / operatio
born march 18, 1996 to nurse and single mother diane terrence in atlanta, georgia, oliver terrence wood has no middle name. his mother meant well, giving him both her last name and his father’s but the absence of that customary second name has always left him feeling a little out of place; like everyone could see there was the smallest hole in his story, a sliver of a missing piece.
his father was never a secret; when oliver was old enough to ask for him, his mom told him the truth: “yes, you have a dad but after he gave me you, he had to go live far away and he can’t come back.” as a child, it made perfect sense; after all, they only went to the toy store once a month and it was a whole hour away by grandma’s house. so dad must live really, really far. and then once oliver was older, it just didn’t matter much. he didn’t need a father. he had all the love and support he could possibly need he needed from his mom and her parents.
it was his grandfather who encouraged oliver’s love of the outdoors. it started young, picking peaches in the backyard, and progressed to camping and hunting trips as oliver grew. while hunting was never his favorite activity, he became quite skilled with a bow; preferring it over the rifles and shotguns others used. but really, it was all about the weekends he’d spend under the stars, listening to his grandfather tell the stories of the constellations. about how his grandmother would dutifully teach him about every weed, flower, and plant he would bring to her; even when he made her a bouquet of dandelions and poison ivy.
when oliver was 11, his grandfather died in a fishing accident on a lake. an aging man, alone on his boat who slipped and hit his head on the prow before falling into the dark waters. oliver stood on the pier with his mom and grandmother while they searched for his body. he’s been afraid of the unknown depths ever since.
they thought he caught pneumonia, standing on that lake looking for his grandfather, but the cough never really went away. soon after, he was diagnosed with bronchiectasis and given an albuterol inhaler and a pamphlet explaining that what he had was very much not pneumonia. something that would never go away. it didn’t hold him back much. being outdoors was still allowed, even encouraged; anything that strengthened his lungs and kept his airways open. hydration and nutrition were already important to him as a nature lover and the fact that those kinds of healthy habits helped manage his flare ups was simply a bonus.
when his grandmother died five years later, loneliness started to creep in as oliver’s already small family dwindled down to him and his mother, just the two of them. she tried to encourage him to include friends into his family but high school was proving to be a very different experience for him than he could see his peers going through. dating and sex, he just didn’t understand. yes, he thought jenny was pretty. he thought marc was too. but he didn’t really want to date them and he definitely didn’t get hard in class thinking about fucking them. thank god for the internet; he would have never been able to parse asexuality out on his own, especially when he realized his romantic interests seemed polar opposite of his sexual interests. still, understanding himself was one thing; exploring it in high school was another. so he just didn’t.
it was easier in college. he figured a lot more out. he thought he’d be a nurse like his mom but realized he hated the classes. he dropped out and found a better fit in being a paramedic. he could exist in the crisis of the moment but was also able to leave it at the emergency room doors, handled by those much better equipped for long term care. he became certified in first aid and cpr on his way to joining an emt program when his mother suddenly died during an incident on her shift in the er.
feeling more alone than ever, oliver made a decision that had been 20 years in the making - it was time to find his father. tracking him down had been easier than he expected but like most myths, william wood was disappointing in person. while oliver hadn’t been looking for a parent, he’d hoped that he’d feel at least something towards the man. he could see that their eyes were shaped the same but other than that, it was like meeting a stranger. which he was. and oliver was nothing to him but a secret.
but the secret had met it’s end and eventually oliver met his sisters: merrick, a few month younger, and holly, a few months older. those girls, they weren’t strangers. it was awkward for all of them but when they stood next to each other, they could all see it. they were the same, connected and important to each other. somehow instantly close even if they needed the time to build their relationship from the ground up.
they were the reason he stayed in mullen falls for so long, the reason he started putting down roots again. he wanted to know where his family was, wanted to be near them. his mother has always told him “people need other people” and that was especially true for him after he met his people.
he’s needed them more than ever after the attack in the woods. he doesn’t remember it much. he remembers camping on his own over a long weekend. it was the last night and he’d been preparing to go back the next morning. something hit his head and pain crippled him and somehow there were hands around his throat and over his mouth. that’s all he knows, all he remembers. someone tried to kill him and then left him for dead.
he hasn’t been the same since that. he still can’t quite fill in the blanks. he knows state police found him in his jeep, stalled in the middle of a road as he bled out in the front seat. he doesn’t know how he got there. he knows that he was in surgery for hours, losing a kidney and crashing twice. he doesn’t know how he survived. he knows that he has night terrors that he can’t shake, leaving him trembling and gasping and choking on his own breath. he doesn’t know if they mean anything.
he’s changed. everyone knows it. and there’s nothing he can do about it.
↳ oliver terrence wood ( alexander calvert )