Chlollie Fanfic: Beauty in the Breakdown IX, 'Fessing Up, Chapter 7
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Title: Beauty in the Breakdown IX - ‘Fessing Up
Author: BabyDee
Pairing: Chlollie
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: A Re-telling of Chlollie post-Warrior
Timeline: Season 9
Disclaimer: All characters belong to the CW & DC comics.
Series Summary: With Oliver by her side, Chloe learns to let go, find peace, and fall in love.
Story Summary: Chloe upped and got married. Lois is not amused. :)
Feedback: …Always. :)
Read previous chapter here.
Read story from the beginning here.
Chapter 7
It was a long, slow ride back to the Talon.
Both men sat silently side by side, in sharp contrast to the jovial journey they’d made to the Farm. Clark kept well below the speed limits and gripped the steering wheel so tightly Oliver swore he left imprints beneath his fingers.
Occasionally Clark would glance over with a pleading look, but Oliver stared resolutely ahead, ignoring the unspoken request. His mind was made up. Clark was going to come clean to Chloe about the mindwipe before the sun went down, and Oliver was going to make sure of it even if he had to drag the big man there kicking and screaming with a kryptonite assist.
He narrowed his eyes and glanced at his wedding ring. In truth, he was more concerned than Clark was about revealing the truth about Chloe’s stolen memories. Whilst he hadn’t been consulted about Clark’s intentions, he had been briefed about the situation on the morning of her wedding, and thus had been given an opportunity to stop her from making one of the gravest mistakes of her life. Instead he had brushed it off, more concerned at the time with tracking Lex Luthor down and killing him because of his father Lionel’s involvement in the death of his parents.
Oliver sighed. He’d been in such a weird place back then. Finding out for certain that Lionel Luthor had murdered his parents had been the start of the downward spiral that had made him hit the bottle hard. If he had been thinking objectively, he would have swept Chloe up in his arms, wedding gown and all, carried her out of that barn. Then he would have nocked a kryptonite arrow, aimed it at Clark’s head and insisted that he put her memories back in her head where they belonged. But no; he’d let Chloe walk down the aisle without a significant part of her past, and had done nothing to stop it.
He brushed his thumb on the inside of the ring and swallowed. This was the first true test of his marriage. Chloe was going be devastated when she found out that he knew what Clark had done and neglected to tell her for over a year. But he trusted that she would forgive him and believed that she would love him more for being honest with her, knowing that he had risked everything to make sure she knew the truth.
“You’ve got a green light, Clark,” he said dryly as the car behind them honked insistently. “Step on it.”
***
Chloe was putting the finishing touches on the frosting when they walked in. She looked up at them, and Oliver couldn’t help but grin indulgently at the domestic picture she made; frilly apron around her waist, spatula in hand, smudge of chocolate frosting on her left cheek.
“Perfect timing!” she said with a smile as he approached. “We’re just about finished here. How was the game? Did the Sharks win?”
“No idea, we didn’t wait for the finish,” Oliver said, zooming straight in on the chocolate smudge and sucking it into his mouth. She giggled as he hummed approvingly, his voice dropping lower as he gave her a quick nose-nuzzle. “I missed you.”
“Missed you, too,” she replied shyly. “Listen, um…” she inclined her head towards her cousin. “Lois has something to say to you.”
“Oh?” Oliver glanced up as his wife’s cousin stepped forward, her gaze firmly on the ground.
“I apologise for my inappropriate remark earlier,” she mumbled. “It was hurtful and cruel, and I should never have said it. I was upset that I missed Chloe’s wedding, but it’s no excuse for hating on your happiness. I’m sorry.”
Chloe smiled proudly at her and then looked up at him with a stern, challenging gaze. Oliver duly adopted a sober expression and spoke.
“I accept your apology, Lois,” he said solemnly. “And I’m sorry I was insensitive to your feelings. I was being petty and mean when I should have been more understanding.”
Lois instantly brightened. “No harm done,” she chirped, thumping him in the shoulder in lieu of a handshake.
Oliver shook his head and smiled. Some things never changed.
“Thank goodness that’s over,” she went on breezily as she headed towards the countertop where the cake sat temptingly on a platter. “Now let’s cut this sucker open, because I have been dying for a slice all afternoon. Will you two do the honours?”
She held out a gilded, ribbon-decorated knife, but just then her phone rang shrilly. She examined the caller ID and sighed.
“Sorry, it’s the office - I need to take this,” she said, heading towards the front door. “I’ll just be a minute…”
“Which means she’ll actually be about an hour,” Chloe finished sarcastically as she folded her arms. “So much for dying for a slice.” She tilted her head and frowned. “Clark; you’re quiet. Everything alright?”
Clark had been standing silently in a corner since they’d walked in, doing his level best to blend in with the wallpaper. The moment Chloe addressed him directly, he paled and swallowed hard.
“Um…Chloe, can I talk to you?” he asked hesitantly.
“Is something wrong?” she said, walking over to him with a concerned look on her face. “What is it?”
Oliver watched keenly from the kitchenette as Clark gently ushered her into the furthest corner of the room and lowered his voice to a whisper. Oliver couldn’t hear what he was saying, but the changing expressions on Chloe’s face as he spoke said it all. He saw the concern in her eyes give way to disbelief and denial, followed by shock and then quietly controlled rage.
Clark finally stopped talking and she stared up at him, her jaw slack and her eyes wide.
“I’m sorry,” Clark said hoarsely, reaching for her. “Chloe, I’m so sor---”
She lifted a hand sharply and held it up, cutting his apology off immediately. Her chest rose and fell as the gravity of his words sank into her brain and she squeezed her eyes shut, her raised palm curling into a tight fist. Stiffly she walked away from Clark and headed straight out onto the balcony, slamming the door shut behind her.
The wall clock ticked loudly, filling the silence. Clark stood numbly in the corner Chloe had left him in, looking thoroughly miserable.
“I’m proud of you, Clark,” Oliver said quietly, jarring the other man out of his stupor. “I honestly didn’t think you would do it.”
Clark didn’t answer. He fixed Oliver with a steely glare before running a hand through his hair with a despairing sigh and sitting down slowly on the sofa.
Oliver checked his watch and glanced out the window at his wife. He waited patiently for five more minutes heading out to join her on the balcony, closing the door quietly behind him.
***
She heard her husband come out onto the balcony and gently close the door, but Chloe didn’t acknowledge his presence. She squared her shoulders and kept her back to him whilst she continued to stare blankly out over the horizon, looking but not seeing.
He didn’t say anything, which was good. There was nothing to say, really. But his presence was quietly calming. After a long while, it was she who broke the silence.
“You know, I always knew Clark wasn’t perfect,” she began. “As much as he tries to do the right thing, his execution never quite cuts it. Simply put, it stinks; but I always give him a free pass because, hey…he’s trying to help, right?” She paused, and narrowed her eyes. “Only, just when I think Clark couldn’t possibly be any more stupid and egotistical than he already is…” she shook her head and laughed bitterly. “I don’t know why I’m surprised, really.”
She felt Oliver move to stand behind her, then his hands squeezed her shoulders softly. “At least he was honest with you about it,” he said. “That ought to count for something.”
She snorted. “Only after you forced him into it, I’ll bet.”
He sighed and nodded. “Pretty much.”
She closed her eyes and cast her mind back to that terrible time when so much of what she’d said and done was a blur. Once Brainiac had been extracted she’d returned to her usual self, but the haunting questions had still remained, chief of which was…
“I could never understand was why I married Henry James Olsen,” she said blankly. I never loved him. I knew it, and he knew it. I guess Brainiac said or did something to give him hope, but I’d never have married him if I had all my own memories.”
“We’ve had this conversation before, Chloe,” he said gently but firmly. “You can’t blame yourself for what happened to him.”
She remembered the conversation clearly; it had been the day she and Oliver had officially started their relationship, and she had long since let go of the awful guilt she’d harboured regarding Jimmy’s death on that starlit summer evening. But today’s revelation had also made something else abundantly clear.
She turned to face her husband. “You knew,” she accused bluntly.
Oliver looked physically pained, but he nodded. “I did.”
Tears gathered in her eyes and her face crumpled. “Oliver, why didn’t you tell me?” she cried.
“Oh honey, it wasn’t my secret to tell,” he said softly, wiping the tears from her cheeks with his thumbs and cradling her head gently against his chest. “Surely you of all people can understand that.”
She swallowed and nodded, grateful that her husband had at least managed to wrangle Clark into confessing. But the question still remained.
“Why?” she whispered. “Why would Clark do such a horrible thing to me?”
“He was trying to help,” he murmured. “Thought he was protecting you.”
“Help?” she echoed incredulously, leaning back to stare at him. “He wiped away a significant, vital segment of my memories; how for the love of God is that ‘helping’ me?” she challenged, her voice rising. “Without those memories, I’m not me. Why couldn’t he see that? Why?”
“He was desperate; he thought…he thought that knowing the truth about him was what kept putting you in danger,” he explained.
“Really?” Chloe snorted. “Is that his excuse? Because I battled those aliens side by side with him for years, and he never batted an eyelid. Now all of a sudden, his world is too dangerous for me?” She shook her head and stepped out of his embrace and began pacing angrily up and down the tiny space.
“Where exactly does he get off deciding what’s too dangerous for me?” she raged. “And where the hell did he get such a thick-brained, stupid idea to begin with?”
Oliver’s heart pounded hard, and he took a deep breath and answered.
“From me,” he whispered. “It was from me.”
***
Chapter 8…