Don't Say You Understand - T - Chloe/Bart
Title: Don’t Say You Understand
Category: Smallville
Rating: T
Genre: Romance/Drama
Pairing: Chloe/Bart
Word Count: 3,363
Summary: It’s a little hard to be her Knight in shining armor when exhaustion takes its toll…
Previous: When Right Began, All In, Making Up For Lost Time,
Don’t Say You Understand
1/1
He hadn’t eaten, hadn’t slept, rarely spoke and the stench of constant movement and despair had caught up with him after four days of ignoring the call of the shower. His foot bounced anxiously while his finger flicked and flexed against his cheek. He shouldn’t be sitting still, shouldn’t be waiting here for word; he could travel the entire world in what seemed like only seconds, he should be looking for her, finding her, holding her. But he’d tried that, over and over for four days straight and he couldn’t find her anywhere.
He could still feel the panic from that first moment he knew something was wrong. She was up and out of bed before him, no big deal, she was a start-the-day and get-to-it type, but he hadn’t seen her since she’d pecked his cheek and left a mug of coffee on the bedside table for him. No calls, no emails, not even a passed on ‘Hey’ through Clark. She’d never made it to ISIS, hadn’t checked in with Ollie, wasn’t in contact with Lois or Clark and more than all that, she hadn’t met up with him.
He waited two and a half hours for her to meet him at their usual spot, thinking maybe she just got caught up in something, hoping that was all it was. Sometimes, she got her head so buried into things she forgot to pull it out. He was ready to laugh it off, kiss her and just get on with the night, but she didn’t show. And he finally gave in and went to Ollie, explained that something was seriously wrong and immediately, he saw that look in Ollie’s eyes. That ‘I know something’s wrong, have for awhile, but it was for everybody’s benefit that I didn’t say anything’ look. He withheld hitting him; he wasn’t usually one for physical violence, most things could be laughed off if it wasn’t Luthor-related. But he had to curl his fingers into fists and force them to hang against his sides. He listened to Ollie’s reasons, his excuses, all the ways it made sense that Chloe do what she did, but he couldn’t agree, he couldn’t nod his head and just help solve the latest problem.
He felt his chest ache, his fingers bounce with the need to move, to run, to search and find and use all of his will and strength and speed to get to her as quickly as possible and get her away from whatever was happening to her now. But even the quickest man alive was useless without a destination.
“Bart, try to understand…”
“Yeah, I get it…” he choked out, his jaw twitching angrily. “She was expendable.”
“Impulse!” Oliver chastised darkly. “Chloe is and will always remain a valued member of this team and nobody is expendable.”
Staring up through slitted eyes, Bart sneered at his leader. “Sorry, I guess finding out my girlfriend was sent into a potentially life-threatening situation with no backup and no warning is making me a little pissed.”
Oliver’s eyes skirted away with something akin to regret. “What happened was-“
“Just shut up,” he groaned, burying his face in his eyes. “Please.”
“Bart, dude, we get it…” AC offered, leaning forward to rest his arms on his knees. “It’s Chloe! We all want her back safe!”
“Watchtower is the center of all this, we want her back safe just as much as you do,” Victor agreed.
“Want her back safe…” He laughed pathetically, a throaty chuckle with no amusement. “Funny, see ‘cause the whole reason she’s in this mess is because of this and what we’re doing…”
“What we’re doing is something she believes in,” Oliver reminded stoically.
“Yeah, well, lately I’ve been having doubts.” Bart leaned back, his expression washed out, eyes ringed red and his body slumped in exhaustion. “Love of your life goes missing ya kinda think ya wanna get away from whatever caused it.” His brows rose for emphasis, only bringing out the roughness of his face all the more.
“She’s made it through scrapes like this a million times before…”
Rubbing at his eyes, he sighed. “Right, so what’s one more near-death experience?” Shaking his head, Bart stood up from the couch. “I’m gonna go take another look around.”
Oliver sighed. “I really don’t think-“
“No.” Bart nodded, backing toward the door. “You don’t.”
With a red flash, he was gone.
***
His legs burned like they never had before. Once upon a time, he remembered thinking he would never tire, that he could run across, over and around the globe a million times and it still wouldn’t be enough. But now, his chest hurt and his eyes stung and his arms felt like lead weights at his side. The blurred world around him started to take on shape, which meant he wasn’t running as fast as he had been. His feet began to trip, his body collapse and the last thing he remembered thinking was that he didn’t save her; he didn’t find her like he should have.
***
“Okay… strawberry or chocolate?” she wondered, head stuck in the freezer as she pulled ice cream out for dessert.
“Depends on where you put it,” Bart teased, appearing next to her. “I think chocolate is best licked off your stomach.” He fell to his knees and inched her shirt up, fingers sliding beneath to stroke her abdomen lightly.
“Cute, but try to focus.”
Staring up at her from beneath cheekily raised brows, he smirked. “I think I’m focusing pretty good…” He nibbled her navel, nuzzling her with his nose as his fingers held her hips in place.
“I think we have chocolate syrup around here somewhere… could go well with the strawberry ice cream,” she murmured thoughtfully.
Bart snorted, rolling his eyes. “So quickly the fair maiden loses interest in her Knight...”
Chuckling, Chloe closed the freezer door and looked down at him, burying her hands in his hair. “Knight, huh? And what has thou done for me lately?”
Standing, he swept her up into his arms in one quick movement. Unsurprised, she wrapped her arms around his neck and grinned at him.
“What would you like?” he wondered.
“Besides dessert?” she joked.
“Hey, I was all for dessert, I just wanted it presented in a naked-you fashion…”
Shaking her head, she sighed lightly. “To the bedroom, Knight.”
With a grin, he shot toward the room and had her laid out before she could finish her sentence.
“As the lady commands,” he murmured, lying down next to her.
“Chocolate-“
He held up a bottle of syrup knowingly, a cocky expression adorning his handsome face.
Laughing, she leaned forward and kissed him in reward for his quick thinking.
***
(Explain.) “Expliquer,” a foreign voice barked out.
(Young man, mid-twenties, found outside a restaurant, barely breathing, would not wake up. He is American, we think.) “Jeune homme, le milieu les années vingt, trouvé à l'extérieur d'un restaurant, à peine la respiration, il ne se réveillerait pas. Il est l'américain, nous pensons.”
(Rate of the heart?) “Taux du cœur?”
(Under control.) “Sous contrôle.”
(Breathing?) “Respiration?”
(Improvement.) “Amelioration.”
“Hm,” came the gruff reply. “Il est éveillé?” (Is he awake?)
(A bit.) “Un peu.”
“Eh, uh, L’American?” the man questioned, touching his shoulder lightly.
Bart blinked woozily.
“You are in Montpellier, France, no?”
He groaned in reply.
“You ‘ave been, uh, admitted ‘ere for… épuisement…” At Bart’s confused expression, he tried again. “Exhaustion, yes?”
Licking his dry lips, Bart shook his head. “I gotta go, man.” Sitting up with what little strength he had in him, he started tearing out all the wires attached to him and moving to swing his legs off the gurney.
“Eh! No, no! You do not understand!” Turning to a nearby nurse, he cursed, “Américain stupide!” (Stupid American!)
“My girlfriend, I just gotta…” His legs wobbled as his feet hit the ground.
(Your Love will understand, no?) “Votre Amour comprendre, non?” The doctor made wild arm gestures for emphasis. “If she is a good woman, a trésor (treasure), son coeur vous pardonnera…” (Her heart will excuse you.)
Shaking his head, Bart struggled with the orderlies trying to put him back in the bed.
(Rest, American. Tomorrow brings new eyes.) “Reste, américain. Demain apporte de nouveaux yeux.”
He continued to try and fight but a loss of sleep had him drifting away even as he forced his eyes open against their will.
***
“What are you doing?” she asked over a yawn as she set a mug of steaming coffee in front of him while snuggling her own near to her.
“Apartment hunting,” he mumbled, tapping the pen in his fingers against his temple.
Her brow quirked. “I thought Ollie agreed to pay the rent on your new place…”
“He did.” Sighing, he leaned back. “But it’s too far away, so…”
“Too far away?” She laughed. “Am I hearing you right? You can disappear and reappear in less time than it takes for me to blink!”
“Yeah… but you can’t,” he reminded, glancing over the paper to see her.
Her gaze narrowed. “Is this your roundabout way of asking me to move in?”
Lips curling, he leaned forward, resting his forearms on the edge of the table. “That depends on your answer.
Mirroring his actions, she tipped her head thoughtfully. “It would save Ollie from paying the rent on two places… less of a paper trail…”
He rolled his eyes. “Turn Watchtower off for a minute and bring Chloe back,” he teased lightly.
Smiling, she shrugged. “I might be persuaded… If you stop leaving wet towels everywhere.”
He frowned. “I dunno… I might forget… This is a pretty big bargain you’re striking, ‘Licious.”
Her eyes widened comically. “Oh I know, how ever will you manage without tossing wet laundry on the furniture?”
“I was in a hurry,” he shrugged off.
“As usual.” She nodded knowingly. “So no wet towels and we take my bed.”
“What’s wrong with mine?” he protested half-heartedly.
“It’s lumpy… and small.”
“Fine, fine… But if I’m getting restrictions, you are too…”
“Like?”
He thought hard for a moment, pursing his lips. “Like leaving all that girly crap all over the sink. I dunno why you need four different hair junks but I can never find my toothbrush in that mess.”
Grinning, she nodded. “New filing system for hair junk, go it.” She winked to seal the deal.
Reaching over, he caught her hand. “So we’ll find a new place then?”
“Mm…” She nodded her head side to side, “or maybe we can just… move my stuff into your apartment. It’s big enough and we don’t have to go through the hassle of finding an affordable place in main Metropolis.”
“I can have you moved in by sundown,” he cheered happily.
She laughed. “I’ve got a couple weeks left in the month, might as well give me time to go through everything. It’ll get me more organized anyway.”
Bart rolled his eyes. “Girls. Gimme a box and an address and I’m done.”
“There’s memories here though…” She looked around warmly. “Sentimental value.”
He stared at her face, how it softened as she remembered moments in her life that were worth smiling over. He wanted to create those with her, in their new place. “Long as I got you, Gorgeous, I’ve got everything I need.”
She grinned at him. “Somehow, I don’t think I’ll fit in a box.”
In a blink of her eyes, she went from her chair to his lap. He tucked her hair behind her ear, stroking her cheek with his thumb. “You fit right here perfectly though.”
Her eyes lightened and he swore right then, she was searing this moment into her mind to be brought out later and smiled over just like the rest. For a guy like him, that was downright world tilting.
***
“What did the doctor say?”
Victor’s voice.
“He ran out of energy, collapsed… With some rest, he’ll be fine.” - Oliver
“How’d you get him here without alerting the French authorities?” AC wondered from the opposite side of the room.
“His doctor was discreet enough. Worked with him a few years back. Good guy.”
Bart’s eyes were crusted over, his body felt heavy and sore with disuse. He struggled to move, to open his eyes and see the guys hovering over him. What were they doing focusing on him when Chloe was out there in danger? Rage built up inside him, burning his throat.
“Wh’re you doing?” he coughed out, his throat scratchy.
“You’re awake!”
“Wha’s it look like?” he growled. His eyes searched the room angrily. “Why aren’t you looking for her?” He forced himself to sit up, shrugging their hands off him as they tried to stop or help, he didn’t know which.
Oliver exchanged a look with the others and silently they left.
The door closed with the sort of finality that had his chest clenching.
With a sigh, Oliver stepped closer, his posture stiff. “Listen, Impulse, you’ve been out for a week.” His eyes glanced away and then back. “A lot has happened. And Chloe is… fine. She’s just… not in the right shape right now to be… visiting.”
His nose flared as fear was overshadowed by annoyance. “For a hero with an identity crisis you suck at lying.”
Oliver pursed his lips. “My doctors think it’s best for you to avoid stress for a little while. Your four day run around the world without any time to rejuvenate took a lot out of you.”
His voice held an edge of chastising and Bart didn’t appreciate it one bit. “Like you wouldn’t?” he rasped.
“I’m not saying that. I understand why-“
“Stop saying that. You don’t get it. None of you do.” He rolled his eyes cynically. “It’s always poor Bart and his sad crush on Chloe. Like you pity me or something because I was smart enough to see what was right in front of me.” He glared. “You think it’s easy? She finally stopped looking at me like I was some junior high reject and just when things were working out I find out she’s gone…” He continued on even as Oliver lifted his hand for him to pause to say his peace. “No, I get it, really. She’s just like us, she puts her neck out for the little guy, I know. But don’t tell me you understand until you’re girlfriend or your wife’s life is hanging in the balance, okay?”
Staring down, Oliver simply nodded.
Rubbing at his face roughly, Bart sat back in the bed, exhausted still. “I wanna see her.”
“The doctor said-“
He laughed, rolling his eyes. “I was just being polite. I’ll get up outta here and search the damn continent, with or without my powers, if I have to.”
Shaking his head, he finally sighed. “All right. I’ll arrange it.”
Without another word, Bart slunk back into his bed to wait.
***
“Chloe, as much as this is for his benefit, it’s for yours too. What happened with you was traumatizing enough and knowing that Bart was… affected like this doesn’t help the healing process,” Oliver explained, his hands weighing heavy on either of Chloe’s shoulders.
She stared up at him, slightly amused. “This isn’t my first run in with death, all right? And… I know you’re trying to keep us safe.” She smiled affectionately. “But I’ve been waiting three days to see him, not including the time I spent stuck…” The words lodged in her throat but she pushed a wavering smile out to hide it. “I need to see him.”
“Two against one,” he muttered, releasing one of her shoulders before walking her down the hall to the locked and secured doorway. “Just... keep the stress-level low.”
She glanced up at him. “Not really in the mood for hospital sex, Ollie. I just need to know he’s okay… See him with my own eyes.” Turning toward the door, she took a deep breath and released it slowly.
***
He sat up in bed so quickly his body felt as though it ricocheted off a brick wall. His head swam for a second before he blinked away the double-vision. She stood stock-still, her hair pushed behind her ears and her smile small but genuine. Her face was bruised up; one of her eyes rimmed a dark purple and shaded yellow with healing. Her lip was split, she was favoring her left, likely from some kind of rib problem, and she was on the verge of tears.
“Hey,” he mustered.
She laughed on a sob. “Hey!” She was across the room and wrapped around him faster than he imagined even he could’ve been. Her head buried in his shoulder and he hugged her close, pressing his face against her hair, inhaling her familiar scent.
“You okay?” she asked, her voice quiet, uncertain.
“Me?” He laughed brokenly. “Top of my game, Gorgeous.”
She shook her head, drawing back slightly. “Really?” Her eyes burned into his searchingly.
He kissed her forehead carefully and tightened his embrace around her, drawing her into the bed next to him. “I should be asking if you’re okay…” He played with her fingers as she cuddled close, staring up at him from her head’s comfortable position braced against his arm.
“What this?” She motioned to her face. “I’ve had worse.”
He frowned. “Tell me what happened.”
She chewed her lip. “Later.”
He scowled, determined.
She smiled. “Can I enjoy this for a second?” she murmured. “One minute I’m stuck in some dungeon-esqe crap-hole and the next AC’s carrying me to a helicopter. I come home to find you’re being shipped over from France and they won’t let me see you…” She let it out in one long whoosh of breath that left her looking upset again. “I just…” She smiled to hide her pain. “I just want you to hold me, okay?”
He nodded, pulling her in close and tucking the blanket around them. He let his eyes fall to half-mass as they laid in silence. He could feel sleep creeping up once more but pushed it away. It was moments like these he’d worried he’d never have again; simple times of just having her in his arms, her body and her scent invading his senses. She sighed against the hollow of his throat, her fingers absently playing with a loose string on the blanket.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered, half because his voice gave out and half because he hated to admit his failure. “I should’ve been there, should’ve found you…” His eyes blurred.
Her arm tightened around his waist. “I’m right here.”
“You could’ve…” He clenched his jaw tight.
“But I’m not.” She tipped her head back to look at him. “By next week, I’ll be moved into your apartment, right? And this…” She looked around, shaking her head. “This’ll just be another mess we got through.”
He stroked her hair from her face. “You’re the only one that makes me rethink this whole thing…”
Her brow furrowed. “You wouldn’t be you if you didn’t love with all of yourself… And I admire that, I do. But… This is us, Bart.” She swallowed tightly. “As much as we’re Bart and Chloe, we’re Impulse and Watchtower too… And we’re always going to be in danger and fighting this fight…”
He nodded jerkily. “I know.”
“I need you here with me to do that…” She cupped his chin purposefully. “I want you here next to me… When I fall and get back up, I want to know that I’m getting up for something… someone.”
He kissed her, deep and passionate; fingers buried in hair, teeth gnashing, tongues dancing, breath stuttering. “Always,” he promised, pecking her mouth lingeringly.
She grinned then, her eyes glinting with the same warm affection he’d grown used to. “So how tired is my Knight, really?”
He smirked lazily. “Depends on what the lady has in mind…”
She chuckled. “I promised Ollie no stress and no hospital sex.”
He pouted playfully and then leaned her back against the bed. “I didn’t.”
Their joyful laughter echoed throughout the room. For the time being, all was good again.