Fading Scars
Title: Fading Scars
Rating: PG. Some mature themes and mild language. Nothing too serious though at this point in the fic.
Summary: Chloe keeps vigil at Oliver's bedside, trying to deal with her emotions, after he is branded by Zod. Will she be afraid of what she's feeling or will she embrace it?
Warning: None at this point in time, but I only have a rough outline of the fic, so that may change.
Spoilers: Season 9, specifically Sacrifice.
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the Smallville characters. I'm just playing with them. Please don't sue.
Fresh Wounds: Part 1
The only sound in the room was the beeping of the machines and the distant chatter of nurses going about their rounds. The room was dark, lit only by the light streaming through the doorway and the luminescent green numbers on the machines. It was late, almost midnight. She really shouldn't be there, but no one had the heart to throw her out. One look at her face would tell them why she was there. She looked heartbroken and the fire was missing from her eyes. Considering who's bedside she was keeping vigil at, they were willing to cut her some slack.
His tan skin and toned muscles were obscured by the large white bandage taped across his torso. There was an IV in his arm and a pulse monitor clamped to one finger. The blankets were drawn up to just below the bandage and tucked around him. His chest was rising and falling slowly. Coupled with the sound of the heart monitor, it was the only sign that he was still alive at all. The life that he usually seemed filled with, was missing.
Chloe shifted in the uncomfortable chair, trying to relieve the pressure on her lower back. She was stiff and sore from sitting there for so long. Under the best of circumstances, she'd have been stiff from sitting for so many days on end, but she'd already been sore from fighting Tess and escaping from the Checkmate agents at Watchtower. The break in had been days before. She'd barely left his side since discovering that Oliver was in the hospital.
***
Rubbing her hand tiredly over her face, Chloe walked out of the room she'd killed Tess in, never mind that she'd also brought her back to life and the other woman had already left another way. Watchtower had been lost. The information was still there. The system had been designed to dump all of the databases into secure servers in case of emergency, but all the hardware had destroyed in their escape attempt. The prospect of rebuilding was daunting, even for her.
When she looked up, she caught sight of Clark, staring worriedly after a group of doctors wheeling away a patient on a gurney. Chloe couldn't see who it was, but the look on Clark's face almost stopped her heart. She ran down the hall as fast as her tired legs could carry her.
"What happened?" she demanded.
Clark turned to her, surprised to see her. "What are you doing here, Chloe?"
She rolled her eyes. "I'll tell you later. Why are you here?"
He looked uncomfortable. "Um...I brought Oliver in. He...he went to the Luthor mansion and ran into Zod."
"Oh my God," she gasped, pressing a hand to her mouth. "What happened to him?"
Clark didn't answer, but guilt crossed his face. Letting out a sound of exasperation, Chloe spun on her heel and left him standing in the hallway while she went to find someone who could tell her what had happened to Oliver.
***
Since then, he'd been in and out of surgery almost half a dozen times. The doctors had stabilized him, then they had set to work making sure the burn hadn't gotten infected. They'd excised the dead skin and applied grafts to keep out further infection. They were doing everything they could to keep the scaring minimal and had assured her that with laser skin treatments once the burn was fully healed, it would barely be noticeable. The doctors said that the psychological effects of such a large scar on such a visible area of a person's body, especially under the circumstances it had been received - apparently Clark had said that Oliver told him he was attacked by someone before passing out, but that he hadn't been there to see it - could be incredibly damaging. Despite his vanity, Chloe knew that Oliver would wear the scar as a badge of courage, not as a mark of shame, so she wasn't worried about his pride. As grateful as she was that Oliver wouldn't have to live with that reminder of Zod's sadistic nature, Chloe couldn't bring herself to really care that he wouldn't have much of a scar. She just wanted him to wake up.
The two of them had been in a convoluted, friends-with-benefits relationship for months, ever since she'd walked into Watchtower and found him standing in the middle of the room in front of a target. He'd completely taken her by surprise, and not just with the impromptu archery lesson. Sex with him had not only been amazing, it had helped bring her back to life. She'd been slowly losing herself to Watchtower without even realizing it. After Doomsday, Davis, Jimmy, and everyone walking out on her, Watchtower had been the only constant in her life, the only place where she felt safe. Ironically, her safe haven had been keeping her from living. It was part of the reason she'd let sex with Oliver be more than a one time thing. After spending so much time alone and being overlooked, he had made her feel like she was being seen. It had started out being meaningless, but it hadn't stayed that way long.
Chloe could readily admit that during the time they'd been sleeping together Oliver had become her best friend. He knew her inside and out, better than anyone. He made her laugh. He listened when she needed someone to just sit there while she poured her heart out. He stopped by almost every night for dinner before going patrolling and if it led to some hot and steamy sex when he got back, then so be it. That wasn't why he showed up...most of the time anyway. They bantered when she was helping him through patrol. When they planned the more complicated missions, they spent as much time teasing each other as they did working out strategy. They called each other multiple times a day, sometimes just to chat and sometimes to actually talk about work. They were constantly texting and e-mailing in between. And somewhere along the way, Oliver had come to mean a lot more to her than "good friend whom she often slept with." He'd become the person she relied on with things got tough. He was the person she thought of when something happened, the person she wanted to tell. He was the person she shared her feelings with.
Before that whole thing with Roulette, she'd have never considered them the best of friends. Their relationship had really been that of employer and employee. He was Lois' ex and the guy who'd put together the team, nothing more. In fact, she thought she'd screwed up what little friendship they had when she ran off with Davis to give them time to save the world. Then she'd seen the footage of his attempted suicide. Without really knowing why, she'd been determined to save him. She'd needed him to be all right, to help her fight the bad guys, to keep her from going insane. So she'd orchestrated her own version of an intervention. As long as he was out there doing his job as the Green Arrow, she could go on being Watchtower. She'd actually expected him to be royally ticked off by her method of saving him. Instead, his reaction had been the exact opposite and had somehow led to sleeping together.
Sighing heavily, Chloe rubbed her hands over her face and stood. Her stiff muscles protested at the movement. She'd definitely been sitting in that stupid hospital chair for way too long. She grimaced slightly and walked over to the window, trying to work out the kinks in her muscles. Her back was aching from sitting for literally days, and she had the beginning of a stress headache.
A nurse bustled into the room. The woman looked tired, but alert as she began checking Oliver's vitals and administering medication. Chloe rubbed her temples but said nothing, choosing instead to continue looking out the window. She was used to the routine. Every few hours someone would come in to give him antibiotics and pain medication, change his bandages, and whatever else they needed to do. Every day or so, the changed the sheets and cleaned him up, usually with her help. It had been long enough that Chloe had begun to recognize the nurses. She was too tired to learn their names, but she knew their faces.
"Headache?" the nurse asked knowingly, looking up at Chloe when she was done checking on her patient.
"Yeah," Chloe said softly.
Nodding, the nurse disappeared into the hallway and returned moments later with a small sample pack of aspirin. Chloe took it gratefully and the nurse left. She dry swallowed the pills and moved back to her seat beside Oliver's bed. Picking up her laptop, which had been shoved under Oliver's bed, she opened it and logged into what remained of Watchtower's operating system. Until she could rebuild the mainframe and run through the designated protocols, most of the databases were still inaccessible. She'd been doing what she could to track down the Kandorians ever since Clark had told her that they'd all gotten powers. Those damn aliens had done a good job of falling off the grid and with most of her databases and spyware down, there wasn't much she could do. However, she did still have communications and she was doing what she could to round up all the heroes she knew and get them positioned around the world for when something did happen.
She quickly lost herself in checking in with the team, allowing the work to distract her from what was going on with Oliver. No one had found anything yet, but Carter had managed to track down a few more members of the JSA and their proteges who were willing to help them. He'd given them her encrypted Watchtower contact information. They were supposed to contact her in the next day or two. In the mean time, she busied herself with learning what she could about them based on the information Carter had given her and her own research.
There was a light tap on the door, breaking through her concentration. Chloe looked up to see Clark leaning in, looking worried.
"Any luck?" he asked.
She shook her head. "Unfortunately not. The Kandorians have officially fallen off the map and with Watchtower still almost nonexistent, there's not much I can do to look for them. Until they show up on their own, there's nothing we can do."
"Have you tried asking Victor for help with Watchtower?" He knew better than suggesting that she leave Oliver and fix it herself. She'd already bitten his head off once.
"He's halfway across the world, in the middle of a mission, and this isn't something he can do remotely," she sighed. "A lot of the hardware was damaged when Tess and I escaped by blowing out the cooling system. I put a lot of safeguards up in case something like this happened. The hardware has to be working for me to regain access to the databases. It's the only way to unlock the secure, remote servers I set up. Vic's going to get here as soon as he can."
Clark nodded, then glanced over at Oliver, his brow furrowed. "How's he doing? Shouldn't he be awake by now?"
"He's done with surgery, assuming that nothing happens," she answered softly. "They're still keeping him pretty heavily sedated for the pain and he's pumped full of antibiotics. They did finally take him off of the really heavy painkillers, so he could wake up at any time. It's just up to him."
Hearing the doubt in her voice, Clark crossed the room and laid a hand on her shoulder. "He will wake up, Chloe. I know he will. He's not ready to give up just yet."
Chloe just nodded, her gaze on Oliver.
Feeling distinctly uncomfortable, Clark started back toward the door. "I have to get back to the Planet before Lois notices that I'm gone, but I'll see you later," he promised.
She tore her eyes away from Oliver and smiled weakly. "Thanks for stopping by. I'll keep looking for something on Zod."
"Get some rest," Clark said, a frown returning to his face as he took in her haggard appearance. "You're wearing yourself out, Chloe, and we're all going to need you, including Oliver."
"I'm fine," she murmured.
Unconvinced, but knowing that arguing would do absolutely nothing but make her angry, Clark just walked away.
Blinking back tears, Chloe shut her laptop and slid it back into her bag, once more hiding it beneath Oliver's bed where it would be out of sight. Her vision was starting to swim with exhaustion. It was late afternoon, but she'd been sleeping so erratically and so badly since she'd barely left the hospital for anything more than a change of clothes and a shower that she just couldn't keep her eyes open. It didn't help that she hadn't been getting that much sleep before, anyway. She was sore all over from sleeping in her chair, but it was better than the floor. So she curled up in the chair, getting as comfortable as she could, and closed her eyes. Maybe when she woke up, she'd find that the past week had been a horrible nightmare and that everything was all right.
***
When she woke up again, it was the middle of the night. She glanced at her her phone and discovered that she'd slept for almost six hours, the longest she'd managed in days, probably because she was so damn exhausted. Her neck was aching from the awkward angle she'd been sleeping in and her back was so stiff, it hurt. It was the pain that had woken her. She hadn't been that uncomfortable since she'd accidentally fallen asleep at her station in Watchtower doing research on an upcoming mission. At least this time, she hadn't woken up with keyboard indentations on her face and AC, who'd come looking for her when she didn't check in with the intel, laughing at her.
She looked over at Oliver. One of the nurses had closed the door while she was asleep, leaving the room almost dark, save for the monitors. In the dim light, she could almost convince herself that he was just asleep. He seemed so peaceful. But when she looked closer, she could see the emptiness in him. Usually there was something about him. Even when he slept, that seemed so full of life. That was missing. And of course, there was the bandage on his chest. Even in the dark, that was hard to miss. It practically glowed in the green light emanating from the machines, ensuring that she could never forget that Oliver wasn't just sleeping.
Tears pricked at her eyes. She pushed her chair closer to the hospital bed, as close as she could. Careful of the IV and the tubing attached to it, she wrapped her hand around Oliver's. With her other hand, she combed through his hair. It was free of the gel that usually gave it it's spiky texture and her fingers slid through the blonde strands easily. Chloe had lost count of the many times she'd laid beside him bed, completely naked, wrapped in his arms, doing just that, running her hand through his hair. She knew it wasn't something just friends would do, but she couldn't bring herself to care. There was something so innocently intimate about the gesture. It had always felt right to her. Once she started, she found that she craved the connection it seemed to engender.
Still running her fingers through his hair, she gently traced the outline of his bandages. He'd been hurt before. There'd been that time he'd been thrown through a window by Hawkman. That had been fun. Oliver still pouted about that on occasion. Most of the time, it was actually kind of cute to see him like that. He was the strong one. It was usually a nice change of pace when she got the chance to take care of him, but that was only with the minor injuries. Injuries as bad as the burn on his chest she rather never happen.
Oliver shifted, just the slightest bit, turning his head toward her fractionally. Chloe bit her lip. It wasn't the first time he'd moved in his sleep. He'd had dreams, even under the influence of the drugs. Every time she got her hopes up and her heart broke a little when he didn't wake. Still, she shifted closer and clutched his hand tighter, cupping his cheek with her other hand.
He grimaced and leaned into her hand. Chloe felt her heart rate begin to rise. He'd never responded to her touch before.
"Oliver?" she whispered.
His eyes opened and he blinked slowly, gazing at her with unfocused eyes. "Chloe?" he mumbled.
Tears ran down her cheeks. Gently caressing his cheek, she found the call button and hit it. She needed to be sure he was okay.
Oliver tried to sit up as his mind became marginally clearer. He gazed around the room with wide, confused eyes, as though he thought he was under attack. "Zod," he croaked. "What happened?"
Grasping his shoulder, she pushed him back on the bed. He struggled weakly, but his strength was so diminished she had no problem keeping him laying down. "Lie still," she said gently. "You got hurt pretty badly."
Still looking disoriented, he allowed her to hold him down. "What happened?" he repeated.
"You broke into the Luthor Mansion looking for Zod," she said softly, having hacked the security footage after the fact when Clark hadn't given her an answer. "Green kryptonite doesn't have as much of an effect on him as it does on Clark. When you let your guard down, he threw the dart away and attacked you. He burned his symbol on your chest."
That, he remembered. At least he'd been on the phone with Clark at the time or who knows how long he would have lain their or what else Zod would have done to him. "How long have I been out?"
"Five days. They kept you sedated for the pain and you've been in and out of surgery."
A nurse bustled into the room, stopping short when she that Oliver was awake. She changed course in mid-step and grabbed the phone off the wall, paging Emil, who'd swooped into to take the case when Clark called him after finding Oliver. Hanging up, the nurse hurried across the room and began taking readings. Feeling in the way, Chloe dragged her chair back over to the wall where she'd found it and sat back down. Oliver still looked slightly out of it. His hand seemed reached toward her, then fell back to the bed and his gaze kept flickering between Chloe and the nurse.
Emil arrived a few moments later. Chloe had a sneaking suspicion that he'd hopped a ride with Bart. He looked disheveled and slightly green around the gills, as he always did after traveling by superspeed. Straightening his glasses, he looked over to her and nodded once, then pushed past the nurse to stand beside Oliver.
For the next thirty minutes, Chloe sat in the corner, watching as Emil fussed over Oliver. He sent the nurse out of the room and tried to ask Oliver about what had happened, but he was still too out of it. Emil drew some blood to double check for infection, inspected the wound, ordered some different painkillers that wouldn't make Oliver quite so tired and were less addictive with long term use, and changed the antibiotic regimen. In all that time, Chloe didn't speak. She just watched. Oliver slowly became more coherent, but not enough to be of any help. He was sitting up a little more, but his words were still jumbled. Every so often, he glanced over at Chloe. She tried to smile encouragingly, but she had the feeling it just came out as a strained grimace.
"Well," Emil sighed, slipping his pen back into his pocket and hooking the clipboard over the end of the bed when he finished writing down the changes in Oliver's medication. "It looks like you're out of the woods. The grafts are taking nicely and there doesn't look like there's an infection. But we'll have to be careful if we want to prevent one. Burns are highly susceptible. You'll be groggy for the next day or two while the more potent drugs leave your system. I'd recommend no visitors until tomorrow and only two or three at the time. Don't strain yourself," he said sternly. "If I hear that you're tying to sit up more than you are right now or trying to get out of bed, I will restrain you. You'll feel like you're ready to be up and around, but if you don't rest, you're immune system will weaken further and you'll get an infection that will lay you up even more."
Oliver nodded weakly. "Got it, doc."
Looking relieved that Oliver hadn't complained, but also skeptical as to how well he'd actually follow instructions, Emil turned to Chloe. "Can I have a word with you?"
Nodding, she followed him into the hall. "Is something wrong?" she asked worriedly.
"No. No, everything's fine," Emil assured her. "Oliver's recovering nicely and the grafts are taking well, as I said. It should only be a few days before he can go home and recover there, where I'm sure he'll be more comfortable. As long as he gets his rest and doesn't overexert himself, his recovery should be relatively swift. When was the last time you got a good night's sleep?"
Taken aback slightly by the change in subject, Chloe stammered, "I don't know. Why?"
Emil frowned. "I'm assuming that you're the only person on the team patient enough to see Oliver through his convalescence. And knowing him, you're going to need all your energy. You really need to get your rest. He's going to need you a lot during his recovery."
"I'm not going back to Smallville," she said firmly. "It's a two hour drive, which I am not up to, and I can't stay in the ruins of Watchtower. Besides, I'm not about to leave Oliver."
"That's not what I'm suggesting," he said slowly, making sure that he was listening. "And while I'm sure that you could stay at Oliver's penthouse, I was actually going to say that I don't want you spending the whole night watching him. I'm going to have another bed brought in so you can get some sleep. I mean it Chloe, you need to rest."
"I'm fine," she protested weakly.
Emil just glared at her. She might be scary and commanding as Watchtower, but at the moment, she was his patient and he didn't care what she could do to him. Her well-being was his top priority. "You're dead on your feet, Chloe. You're pale, probably anemic. I know you haven't been eating properly. I'm surprised you're functioning at all. Oliver's got a long road to recovery and you know as well as I do how much he hates sitting around doing nothing. If you plan on helping him, that means you need all your energy or in the end you'll be doing as much harm to him as you are to yourself. Not to mention the fact, that the rest of the team needs Watchtower functioning if we're going to survive the coming alien apocalypse. I know you're worried about him. We all are. Don't let it effect your own well-being."
Properly chastised, Chloe nodded. "All right. I'll sleep."
"Good. Now why don't you go in there and spend some time with Oliver before the drugs kick back in and he passed out," Emil suggest with a grin. "I'll have a cot brought in."
Knowing that he'd long ago put together the relationship between her and Oliver, but had had the decency not to mention anything to her of to anyone else, Chloe blushed slightly. "Thanks for everything, Emil."
He shrugged. "It's what I do. Call me if you need anything," he said before walking away.
Oliver was half asleep when she ducked back into the room. His eyes were almost closed and he looked like he was forcing himself to stay awake. He also looked like he wasn't being very successful. Careful not to disturb him, she sat on the edge of the bed. His eyes fluttered open when he felt her weight on the mattress. He smiled slightly, reaching for her hand.
"Hey," she whispered.
"Hey," he croaked. "How long have you been here?"
"Just a few seconds."
He chuckled tiredly. "I meant in the hospital, not sitting on my bed."
"Oh. That. A while."
"Which means that you've been here entirely too long. I really should tell you to go home and get some sleep, but I just don't think I can."
"Good, because you weren't going to win that argument," she teased. "Especially not doped up on drugs."
"What? You're not going to take it easy on me?"
"It's not in my nature."
He laughed again and his eyes drifted shut. He fought against the urge to sleep, but Chloe slid her fingers his hair, gently caressing his scalp. She knew that it almost always sent him to sleep. "Sleep," she whispered. "You need your rest to get better."
"I've been asleep for almost a week," he grumbled. "I should be going after Zod. Someone needs to stop him."
She continued sliding her fingers through his hair, trying to lull him to sleep. "You can barely keep your eyes open, Ollie, and you can't sit up. How exactly are you planning on using a bow, let along actually fighting the super-powered aliens?"
"I'd think of something," he protested. The words were so muddled with sleep they were barely comprehensible.
"Sure you would." Chloe bent down and kissed his cheek. He immediately turned and captured her lips with his. One hand came up to grip the back of her neck. He moved sluggishly, bogged down by sleep and pain, but the electricity that always raced through her body at his touch pulsed through her, making her feel better than she had in days.
Reluctantly, she pulled away before things got intense. Oliver frowned sleepily. "I'm not done," he whined, his voice childish.
"Yes, you are," she contradicted with a grin. "I don't want to hurt you and I will if you try to get frisky, which we both know that will you. Not to mention the fact that you're about to pass out on me. Go to sleep, Oliver. I'll be here when you wake up."
He hooked his arm around her waist and tried to pull her down against his side. Lucky for her, the drugs that were sending him to sleep had also sapped his strength, leaving him incapable of getting a good grip on her. She easily pulled his arm away. "I can't," she whispered. "Not tonight."
"I don't care," Oliver grumbled. "I've been on a business trip for over two weeks and when I got back I had to help Clark with some mission that got me sent to the hospital before I even got to seem my girlfriend, who I missed a lot."
Ignoring the way his stomach fluttered at his use of the word girlfriend, she tried to tease him. "At least you were unconscious for part of it." He glared at her sleepily and she changed tact. "I don't care how long it's been. I'm not going to do anything that might hurt you."
"Stubborn woman. You can lay next to me without hurting me."
"Nice try. Emil's getting me a cot. I'll be right here."
"No you won't," he grumbled. "You'll be over there.
She kissed his forehead. "Stop pouting you big baby. I'll be close enough. Just go to sleep already. I'll see you in the morning."
Chloe slid off the bed, ignoring Oliver's sleepy sound of protest, as a man brought a cot into the room. She didn't even want to know what strings Emil had to pull to get it in there for her. There were pillows and blankets stacked in the corner of the room which hadn't been there before. She recognized them from apartment at the Talon. Bart must have run them over.
"Chloe," Oliver mumbled, reaching out for her.
Shaking her head, she quickly made up the bed. Just as she was about to lay down, she heard Oliver's voice, faint and almost inaudible, once more murmuring her name. He was so close to being asleep but his stubborn nature was keeping him awake. Rolling her eyes tiredly, she pushed the cot closer to the bed and took his hand in hers. "It's okay, Ollie. I'm right here. Just go to sleep. We'll talk in the morning. I promise."
He shifted slightly closer to the edge of the bed, turning his head to that he was looking down at her, even though his eyes were closed. Looking up at him, so close to falling asleep, Chloe could see the life, the vitality that had been missing before. He looked like Oliver again. Now that he was awake and conscious, it was going to be a lot more fun taking care of him. He was actually rather cute when he was injured and helpless, even when he was being a pain in the ass.
Author's Note: So what do you think? This has been on my computer since I was in the middle of Twist of Fate and I just got around to editing it for posting. At this point, I'm not sure if I'll continue it beyond one more chapter. It honestly depends on how well received this is and what you guys think. So leave me lots of comments and let me know if it's worth making this into a longer fic.
Fresh Wounds Pt. 2
Rating: PG. Some mature themes and mild language. Nothing too serious though at this point in the fic.
Summary: Chloe keeps vigil at Oliver's bedside, trying to deal with her emotions, after he is branded by Zod. Will she be afraid of what she's feeling or will she embrace it?
Warning: None at this point in time, but I only have a rough outline of the fic, so that may change.
Spoilers: Season 9, specifically Sacrifice.
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the Smallville characters. I'm just playing with them. Please don't sue.
Fresh Wounds: Part 1
The only sound in the room was the beeping of the machines and the distant chatter of nurses going about their rounds. The room was dark, lit only by the light streaming through the doorway and the luminescent green numbers on the machines. It was late, almost midnight. She really shouldn't be there, but no one had the heart to throw her out. One look at her face would tell them why she was there. She looked heartbroken and the fire was missing from her eyes. Considering who's bedside she was keeping vigil at, they were willing to cut her some slack.
His tan skin and toned muscles were obscured by the large white bandage taped across his torso. There was an IV in his arm and a pulse monitor clamped to one finger. The blankets were drawn up to just below the bandage and tucked around him. His chest was rising and falling slowly. Coupled with the sound of the heart monitor, it was the only sign that he was still alive at all. The life that he usually seemed filled with, was missing.
Chloe shifted in the uncomfortable chair, trying to relieve the pressure on her lower back. She was stiff and sore from sitting there for so long. Under the best of circumstances, she'd have been stiff from sitting for so many days on end, but she'd already been sore from fighting Tess and escaping from the Checkmate agents at Watchtower. The break in had been days before. She'd barely left his side since discovering that Oliver was in the hospital.
***
Rubbing her hand tiredly over her face, Chloe walked out of the room she'd killed Tess in, never mind that she'd also brought her back to life and the other woman had already left another way. Watchtower had been lost. The information was still there. The system had been designed to dump all of the databases into secure servers in case of emergency, but all the hardware had destroyed in their escape attempt. The prospect of rebuilding was daunting, even for her.
When she looked up, she caught sight of Clark, staring worriedly after a group of doctors wheeling away a patient on a gurney. Chloe couldn't see who it was, but the look on Clark's face almost stopped her heart. She ran down the hall as fast as her tired legs could carry her.
"What happened?" she demanded.
Clark turned to her, surprised to see her. "What are you doing here, Chloe?"
She rolled her eyes. "I'll tell you later. Why are you here?"
He looked uncomfortable. "Um...I brought Oliver in. He...he went to the Luthor mansion and ran into Zod."
"Oh my God," she gasped, pressing a hand to her mouth. "What happened to him?"
Clark didn't answer, but guilt crossed his face. Letting out a sound of exasperation, Chloe spun on her heel and left him standing in the hallway while she went to find someone who could tell her what had happened to Oliver.
***
Since then, he'd been in and out of surgery almost half a dozen times. The doctors had stabilized him, then they had set to work making sure the burn hadn't gotten infected. They'd excised the dead skin and applied grafts to keep out further infection. They were doing everything they could to keep the scaring minimal and had assured her that with laser skin treatments once the burn was fully healed, it would barely be noticeable. The doctors said that the psychological effects of such a large scar on such a visible area of a person's body, especially under the circumstances it had been received - apparently Clark had said that Oliver told him he was attacked by someone before passing out, but that he hadn't been there to see it - could be incredibly damaging. Despite his vanity, Chloe knew that Oliver would wear the scar as a badge of courage, not as a mark of shame, so she wasn't worried about his pride. As grateful as she was that Oliver wouldn't have to live with that reminder of Zod's sadistic nature, Chloe couldn't bring herself to really care that he wouldn't have much of a scar. She just wanted him to wake up.
The two of them had been in a convoluted, friends-with-benefits relationship for months, ever since she'd walked into Watchtower and found him standing in the middle of the room in front of a target. He'd completely taken her by surprise, and not just with the impromptu archery lesson. Sex with him had not only been amazing, it had helped bring her back to life. She'd been slowly losing herself to Watchtower without even realizing it. After Doomsday, Davis, Jimmy, and everyone walking out on her, Watchtower had been the only constant in her life, the only place where she felt safe. Ironically, her safe haven had been keeping her from living. It was part of the reason she'd let sex with Oliver be more than a one time thing. After spending so much time alone and being overlooked, he had made her feel like she was being seen. It had started out being meaningless, but it hadn't stayed that way long.
Chloe could readily admit that during the time they'd been sleeping together Oliver had become her best friend. He knew her inside and out, better than anyone. He made her laugh. He listened when she needed someone to just sit there while she poured her heart out. He stopped by almost every night for dinner before going patrolling and if it led to some hot and steamy sex when he got back, then so be it. That wasn't why he showed up...most of the time anyway. They bantered when she was helping him through patrol. When they planned the more complicated missions, they spent as much time teasing each other as they did working out strategy. They called each other multiple times a day, sometimes just to chat and sometimes to actually talk about work. They were constantly texting and e-mailing in between. And somewhere along the way, Oliver had come to mean a lot more to her than "good friend whom she often slept with." He'd become the person she relied on with things got tough. He was the person she thought of when something happened, the person she wanted to tell. He was the person she shared her feelings with.
Before that whole thing with Roulette, she'd have never considered them the best of friends. Their relationship had really been that of employer and employee. He was Lois' ex and the guy who'd put together the team, nothing more. In fact, she thought she'd screwed up what little friendship they had when she ran off with Davis to give them time to save the world. Then she'd seen the footage of his attempted suicide. Without really knowing why, she'd been determined to save him. She'd needed him to be all right, to help her fight the bad guys, to keep her from going insane. So she'd orchestrated her own version of an intervention. As long as he was out there doing his job as the Green Arrow, she could go on being Watchtower. She'd actually expected him to be royally ticked off by her method of saving him. Instead, his reaction had been the exact opposite and had somehow led to sleeping together.
Sighing heavily, Chloe rubbed her hands over her face and stood. Her stiff muscles protested at the movement. She'd definitely been sitting in that stupid hospital chair for way too long. She grimaced slightly and walked over to the window, trying to work out the kinks in her muscles. Her back was aching from sitting for literally days, and she had the beginning of a stress headache.
A nurse bustled into the room. The woman looked tired, but alert as she began checking Oliver's vitals and administering medication. Chloe rubbed her temples but said nothing, choosing instead to continue looking out the window. She was used to the routine. Every few hours someone would come in to give him antibiotics and pain medication, change his bandages, and whatever else they needed to do. Every day or so, the changed the sheets and cleaned him up, usually with her help. It had been long enough that Chloe had begun to recognize the nurses. She was too tired to learn their names, but she knew their faces.
"Headache?" the nurse asked knowingly, looking up at Chloe when she was done checking on her patient.
"Yeah," Chloe said softly.
Nodding, the nurse disappeared into the hallway and returned moments later with a small sample pack of aspirin. Chloe took it gratefully and the nurse left. She dry swallowed the pills and moved back to her seat beside Oliver's bed. Picking up her laptop, which had been shoved under Oliver's bed, she opened it and logged into what remained of Watchtower's operating system. Until she could rebuild the mainframe and run through the designated protocols, most of the databases were still inaccessible. She'd been doing what she could to track down the Kandorians ever since Clark had told her that they'd all gotten powers. Those damn aliens had done a good job of falling off the grid and with most of her databases and spyware down, there wasn't much she could do. However, she did still have communications and she was doing what she could to round up all the heroes she knew and get them positioned around the world for when something did happen.
She quickly lost herself in checking in with the team, allowing the work to distract her from what was going on with Oliver. No one had found anything yet, but Carter had managed to track down a few more members of the JSA and their proteges who were willing to help them. He'd given them her encrypted Watchtower contact information. They were supposed to contact her in the next day or two. In the mean time, she busied herself with learning what she could about them based on the information Carter had given her and her own research.
There was a light tap on the door, breaking through her concentration. Chloe looked up to see Clark leaning in, looking worried.
"Any luck?" he asked.
She shook her head. "Unfortunately not. The Kandorians have officially fallen off the map and with Watchtower still almost nonexistent, there's not much I can do to look for them. Until they show up on their own, there's nothing we can do."
"Have you tried asking Victor for help with Watchtower?" He knew better than suggesting that she leave Oliver and fix it herself. She'd already bitten his head off once.
"He's halfway across the world, in the middle of a mission, and this isn't something he can do remotely," she sighed. "A lot of the hardware was damaged when Tess and I escaped by blowing out the cooling system. I put a lot of safeguards up in case something like this happened. The hardware has to be working for me to regain access to the databases. It's the only way to unlock the secure, remote servers I set up. Vic's going to get here as soon as he can."
Clark nodded, then glanced over at Oliver, his brow furrowed. "How's he doing? Shouldn't he be awake by now?"
"He's done with surgery, assuming that nothing happens," she answered softly. "They're still keeping him pretty heavily sedated for the pain and he's pumped full of antibiotics. They did finally take him off of the really heavy painkillers, so he could wake up at any time. It's just up to him."
Hearing the doubt in her voice, Clark crossed the room and laid a hand on her shoulder. "He will wake up, Chloe. I know he will. He's not ready to give up just yet."
Chloe just nodded, her gaze on Oliver.
Feeling distinctly uncomfortable, Clark started back toward the door. "I have to get back to the Planet before Lois notices that I'm gone, but I'll see you later," he promised.
She tore her eyes away from Oliver and smiled weakly. "Thanks for stopping by. I'll keep looking for something on Zod."
"Get some rest," Clark said, a frown returning to his face as he took in her haggard appearance. "You're wearing yourself out, Chloe, and we're all going to need you, including Oliver."
"I'm fine," she murmured.
Unconvinced, but knowing that arguing would do absolutely nothing but make her angry, Clark just walked away.
Blinking back tears, Chloe shut her laptop and slid it back into her bag, once more hiding it beneath Oliver's bed where it would be out of sight. Her vision was starting to swim with exhaustion. It was late afternoon, but she'd been sleeping so erratically and so badly since she'd barely left the hospital for anything more than a change of clothes and a shower that she just couldn't keep her eyes open. It didn't help that she hadn't been getting that much sleep before, anyway. She was sore all over from sleeping in her chair, but it was better than the floor. So she curled up in the chair, getting as comfortable as she could, and closed her eyes. Maybe when she woke up, she'd find that the past week had been a horrible nightmare and that everything was all right.
***
When she woke up again, it was the middle of the night. She glanced at her her phone and discovered that she'd slept for almost six hours, the longest she'd managed in days, probably because she was so damn exhausted. Her neck was aching from the awkward angle she'd been sleeping in and her back was so stiff, it hurt. It was the pain that had woken her. She hadn't been that uncomfortable since she'd accidentally fallen asleep at her station in Watchtower doing research on an upcoming mission. At least this time, she hadn't woken up with keyboard indentations on her face and AC, who'd come looking for her when she didn't check in with the intel, laughing at her.
She looked over at Oliver. One of the nurses had closed the door while she was asleep, leaving the room almost dark, save for the monitors. In the dim light, she could almost convince herself that he was just asleep. He seemed so peaceful. But when she looked closer, she could see the emptiness in him. Usually there was something about him. Even when he slept, that seemed so full of life. That was missing. And of course, there was the bandage on his chest. Even in the dark, that was hard to miss. It practically glowed in the green light emanating from the machines, ensuring that she could never forget that Oliver wasn't just sleeping.
Tears pricked at her eyes. She pushed her chair closer to the hospital bed, as close as she could. Careful of the IV and the tubing attached to it, she wrapped her hand around Oliver's. With her other hand, she combed through his hair. It was free of the gel that usually gave it it's spiky texture and her fingers slid through the blonde strands easily. Chloe had lost count of the many times she'd laid beside him bed, completely naked, wrapped in his arms, doing just that, running her hand through his hair. She knew it wasn't something just friends would do, but she couldn't bring herself to care. There was something so innocently intimate about the gesture. It had always felt right to her. Once she started, she found that she craved the connection it seemed to engender.
Still running her fingers through his hair, she gently traced the outline of his bandages. He'd been hurt before. There'd been that time he'd been thrown through a window by Hawkman. That had been fun. Oliver still pouted about that on occasion. Most of the time, it was actually kind of cute to see him like that. He was the strong one. It was usually a nice change of pace when she got the chance to take care of him, but that was only with the minor injuries. Injuries as bad as the burn on his chest she rather never happen.
Oliver shifted, just the slightest bit, turning his head toward her fractionally. Chloe bit her lip. It wasn't the first time he'd moved in his sleep. He'd had dreams, even under the influence of the drugs. Every time she got her hopes up and her heart broke a little when he didn't wake. Still, she shifted closer and clutched his hand tighter, cupping his cheek with her other hand.
He grimaced and leaned into her hand. Chloe felt her heart rate begin to rise. He'd never responded to her touch before.
"Oliver?" she whispered.
His eyes opened and he blinked slowly, gazing at her with unfocused eyes. "Chloe?" he mumbled.
Tears ran down her cheeks. Gently caressing his cheek, she found the call button and hit it. She needed to be sure he was okay.
Oliver tried to sit up as his mind became marginally clearer. He gazed around the room with wide, confused eyes, as though he thought he was under attack. "Zod," he croaked. "What happened?"
Grasping his shoulder, she pushed him back on the bed. He struggled weakly, but his strength was so diminished she had no problem keeping him laying down. "Lie still," she said gently. "You got hurt pretty badly."
Still looking disoriented, he allowed her to hold him down. "What happened?" he repeated.
"You broke into the Luthor Mansion looking for Zod," she said softly, having hacked the security footage after the fact when Clark hadn't given her an answer. "Green kryptonite doesn't have as much of an effect on him as it does on Clark. When you let your guard down, he threw the dart away and attacked you. He burned his symbol on your chest."
That, he remembered. At least he'd been on the phone with Clark at the time or who knows how long he would have lain their or what else Zod would have done to him. "How long have I been out?"
"Five days. They kept you sedated for the pain and you've been in and out of surgery."
A nurse bustled into the room, stopping short when she that Oliver was awake. She changed course in mid-step and grabbed the phone off the wall, paging Emil, who'd swooped into to take the case when Clark called him after finding Oliver. Hanging up, the nurse hurried across the room and began taking readings. Feeling in the way, Chloe dragged her chair back over to the wall where she'd found it and sat back down. Oliver still looked slightly out of it. His hand seemed reached toward her, then fell back to the bed and his gaze kept flickering between Chloe and the nurse.
Emil arrived a few moments later. Chloe had a sneaking suspicion that he'd hopped a ride with Bart. He looked disheveled and slightly green around the gills, as he always did after traveling by superspeed. Straightening his glasses, he looked over to her and nodded once, then pushed past the nurse to stand beside Oliver.
For the next thirty minutes, Chloe sat in the corner, watching as Emil fussed over Oliver. He sent the nurse out of the room and tried to ask Oliver about what had happened, but he was still too out of it. Emil drew some blood to double check for infection, inspected the wound, ordered some different painkillers that wouldn't make Oliver quite so tired and were less addictive with long term use, and changed the antibiotic regimen. In all that time, Chloe didn't speak. She just watched. Oliver slowly became more coherent, but not enough to be of any help. He was sitting up a little more, but his words were still jumbled. Every so often, he glanced over at Chloe. She tried to smile encouragingly, but she had the feeling it just came out as a strained grimace.
"Well," Emil sighed, slipping his pen back into his pocket and hooking the clipboard over the end of the bed when he finished writing down the changes in Oliver's medication. "It looks like you're out of the woods. The grafts are taking nicely and there doesn't look like there's an infection. But we'll have to be careful if we want to prevent one. Burns are highly susceptible. You'll be groggy for the next day or two while the more potent drugs leave your system. I'd recommend no visitors until tomorrow and only two or three at the time. Don't strain yourself," he said sternly. "If I hear that you're tying to sit up more than you are right now or trying to get out of bed, I will restrain you. You'll feel like you're ready to be up and around, but if you don't rest, you're immune system will weaken further and you'll get an infection that will lay you up even more."
Oliver nodded weakly. "Got it, doc."
Looking relieved that Oliver hadn't complained, but also skeptical as to how well he'd actually follow instructions, Emil turned to Chloe. "Can I have a word with you?"
Nodding, she followed him into the hall. "Is something wrong?" she asked worriedly.
"No. No, everything's fine," Emil assured her. "Oliver's recovering nicely and the grafts are taking well, as I said. It should only be a few days before he can go home and recover there, where I'm sure he'll be more comfortable. As long as he gets his rest and doesn't overexert himself, his recovery should be relatively swift. When was the last time you got a good night's sleep?"
Taken aback slightly by the change in subject, Chloe stammered, "I don't know. Why?"
Emil frowned. "I'm assuming that you're the only person on the team patient enough to see Oliver through his convalescence. And knowing him, you're going to need all your energy. You really need to get your rest. He's going to need you a lot during his recovery."
"I'm not going back to Smallville," she said firmly. "It's a two hour drive, which I am not up to, and I can't stay in the ruins of Watchtower. Besides, I'm not about to leave Oliver."
"That's not what I'm suggesting," he said slowly, making sure that he was listening. "And while I'm sure that you could stay at Oliver's penthouse, I was actually going to say that I don't want you spending the whole night watching him. I'm going to have another bed brought in so you can get some sleep. I mean it Chloe, you need to rest."
"I'm fine," she protested weakly.
Emil just glared at her. She might be scary and commanding as Watchtower, but at the moment, she was his patient and he didn't care what she could do to him. Her well-being was his top priority. "You're dead on your feet, Chloe. You're pale, probably anemic. I know you haven't been eating properly. I'm surprised you're functioning at all. Oliver's got a long road to recovery and you know as well as I do how much he hates sitting around doing nothing. If you plan on helping him, that means you need all your energy or in the end you'll be doing as much harm to him as you are to yourself. Not to mention the fact, that the rest of the team needs Watchtower functioning if we're going to survive the coming alien apocalypse. I know you're worried about him. We all are. Don't let it effect your own well-being."
Properly chastised, Chloe nodded. "All right. I'll sleep."
"Good. Now why don't you go in there and spend some time with Oliver before the drugs kick back in and he passed out," Emil suggest with a grin. "I'll have a cot brought in."
Knowing that he'd long ago put together the relationship between her and Oliver, but had had the decency not to mention anything to her of to anyone else, Chloe blushed slightly. "Thanks for everything, Emil."
He shrugged. "It's what I do. Call me if you need anything," he said before walking away.
Oliver was half asleep when she ducked back into the room. His eyes were almost closed and he looked like he was forcing himself to stay awake. He also looked like he wasn't being very successful. Careful not to disturb him, she sat on the edge of the bed. His eyes fluttered open when he felt her weight on the mattress. He smiled slightly, reaching for her hand.
"Hey," she whispered.
"Hey," he croaked. "How long have you been here?"
"Just a few seconds."
He chuckled tiredly. "I meant in the hospital, not sitting on my bed."
"Oh. That. A while."
"Which means that you've been here entirely too long. I really should tell you to go home and get some sleep, but I just don't think I can."
"Good, because you weren't going to win that argument," she teased. "Especially not doped up on drugs."
"What? You're not going to take it easy on me?"
"It's not in my nature."
He laughed again and his eyes drifted shut. He fought against the urge to sleep, but Chloe slid her fingers his hair, gently caressing his scalp. She knew that it almost always sent him to sleep. "Sleep," she whispered. "You need your rest to get better."
"I've been asleep for almost a week," he grumbled. "I should be going after Zod. Someone needs to stop him."
She continued sliding her fingers through his hair, trying to lull him to sleep. "You can barely keep your eyes open, Ollie, and you can't sit up. How exactly are you planning on using a bow, let along actually fighting the super-powered aliens?"
"I'd think of something," he protested. The words were so muddled with sleep they were barely comprehensible.
"Sure you would." Chloe bent down and kissed his cheek. He immediately turned and captured her lips with his. One hand came up to grip the back of her neck. He moved sluggishly, bogged down by sleep and pain, but the electricity that always raced through her body at his touch pulsed through her, making her feel better than she had in days.
Reluctantly, she pulled away before things got intense. Oliver frowned sleepily. "I'm not done," he whined, his voice childish.
"Yes, you are," she contradicted with a grin. "I don't want to hurt you and I will if you try to get frisky, which we both know that will you. Not to mention the fact that you're about to pass out on me. Go to sleep, Oliver. I'll be here when you wake up."
He hooked his arm around her waist and tried to pull her down against his side. Lucky for her, the drugs that were sending him to sleep had also sapped his strength, leaving him incapable of getting a good grip on her. She easily pulled his arm away. "I can't," she whispered. "Not tonight."
"I don't care," Oliver grumbled. "I've been on a business trip for over two weeks and when I got back I had to help Clark with some mission that got me sent to the hospital before I even got to seem my girlfriend, who I missed a lot."
Ignoring the way his stomach fluttered at his use of the word girlfriend, she tried to tease him. "At least you were unconscious for part of it." He glared at her sleepily and she changed tact. "I don't care how long it's been. I'm not going to do anything that might hurt you."
"Stubborn woman. You can lay next to me without hurting me."
"Nice try. Emil's getting me a cot. I'll be right here."
"No you won't," he grumbled. "You'll be over there.
She kissed his forehead. "Stop pouting you big baby. I'll be close enough. Just go to sleep already. I'll see you in the morning."
Chloe slid off the bed, ignoring Oliver's sleepy sound of protest, as a man brought a cot into the room. She didn't even want to know what strings Emil had to pull to get it in there for her. There were pillows and blankets stacked in the corner of the room which hadn't been there before. She recognized them from apartment at the Talon. Bart must have run them over.
"Chloe," Oliver mumbled, reaching out for her.
Shaking her head, she quickly made up the bed. Just as she was about to lay down, she heard Oliver's voice, faint and almost inaudible, once more murmuring her name. He was so close to being asleep but his stubborn nature was keeping him awake. Rolling her eyes tiredly, she pushed the cot closer to the bed and took his hand in hers. "It's okay, Ollie. I'm right here. Just go to sleep. We'll talk in the morning. I promise."
He shifted slightly closer to the edge of the bed, turning his head to that he was looking down at her, even though his eyes were closed. Looking up at him, so close to falling asleep, Chloe could see the life, the vitality that had been missing before. He looked like Oliver again. Now that he was awake and conscious, it was going to be a lot more fun taking care of him. He was actually rather cute when he was injured and helpless, even when he was being a pain in the ass.
Author's Note: So what do you think? This has been on my computer since I was in the middle of Twist of Fate and I just got around to editing it for posting. At this point, I'm not sure if I'll continue it beyond one more chapter. It honestly depends on how well received this is and what you guys think. So leave me lots of comments and let me know if it's worth making this into a longer fic.
Fresh Wounds Pt. 2