Of Love and Friendship - NC17 - Chlollie- Part Twenty-Eight (1/2)
Title: Of Love and Friendship
Category: Smallville
Genre: Friendship/Romance/Humor/Action/Drama
Ship: Chloe/Oliver
Rating: NC17
Word Count: 8,215
Spoiler(s): 6x07 - Rage
Summary: (AU) Chloe Sullivan grew up in Star City, California with high hopes of becoming a Pulitzer Prize winning reporter, but destiny has other plans. Finding a best friend in billionaire Oliver Queen, their lives intersect and take them on a journey neither of them ever expected.
Previous: Prologue, Part I, Part II, Part III, Part IV, Part V, Part VI, Part VII, Part VIII, Part IX, Part X, Part XI, Part XII, Part XIII, Part XIV, Part XV, Part XVI, Part XVII, Part XVIII, Part XIX, Part XX, Part XXI, Part XXII, Part XXIII, Part XXIV, Part XXV, Part XXVI, Part XXVII,
dhfreak
XXVIII. Of Near Death Experiences and Super Drugs
Part I.
"Mr. Queen…? Your two o'clock is here," his assistant's voice called out across the phone speaker.
Oliver glanced over at the phone and then up at the time. "Thanks, Sara. Send her in."
A moment later, a thin woman with sharp features walked in, her back rigidly straight and her hair up in a too-tight bun. "Mr. Queen," she greeted, her eyes wide with nervousness.
"Dr. Black," he replied, grinning widely. "Please, have a seat…" He motioned to the chair set up in front of his desk and then returned to sit behind it. "So, if I understand correctly, you're on sabbatical from Princeton and you were encouraged to contact me in regards to a drug you've been testing. Something called the…" He lifted up his folder and perused the contents. "RL65, is that right?"
"Yes," she said, nodding quickly. "Our previous backers didn't have a lot of patience and, well, all good work takes time."
"Okay, so… Tell me what it is, what it does… and why I should invest in you?" He stared at her seriously; his eyes boring into her hard enough to demand that she take him seriously.
"In lamens terms, it's a drug specifically made to speed up healing time... We've had some success with our lab mice; taking only hours and later minutes before small injuries rapidly fixed themselves. In short, Mr. Queen, this could revolutionize life as we know it… No more waiting at the hospital for hours on end for a harried doctor to see to you… One injection of RL65 and you're done."
Eyes narrowed slightly, he licked his lips. "Minutes?" He leaned back in his chair. "And this was done on lab mice? There've been no human studies done?"
"Well…" She glanced away. "We couldn't afford to. Finding somebody to take an experimental drug, regardless of its healing properties, can be expensive… The last of our funding has already been used finding somewhere to house the drug and my team…" She shook her head slowly. "I'll be honest, you weren't the only name to come up on a list of benefactors."
Oliver's jaw ticked. "Lex Luthor, I assume."
She nodded shortly. "I'm not trying to pressure you but my research is invaluable to me… To put it off for any length of time, it's-"
"Unfair… Especially if you're on the verge of a breakthrough."
"Yes…" She nodded, smiling slightly. "I know with your personal team of doctors, you might not have the same problem, but I think a man of your charitable background will understand the struggle most middle-American's have to deal with… The world's a dangerous place, but if we can make it even a modicum safer…"
"That's priceless…" He mused, nodding. "All right, Dr. Black… You have my and Queen Industries full backing to continue your research."
She beamed, breathing out a sigh of relief. "Oh, sir, I can't thank you enough. You have no idea how much this means to me and my team!"
He half-smiled. "I think I do… In fact, I'm offering myself up as your first human tester…"
Her eyes widened. "M-Mr. Queen, that is too generous of you. I-"
"Can't say no," he interrupted, smirking. "If I'm going to send this out into the general populace, I want to know what I'm putting my stamp of approval on. And to be honest, I believe if you've got this right, it could truly help the world… And I'd like to be more than just the financial aid." Nodding, he leaned forward, staring at her firmly. "You get me your latest batch and when I find a reason to use it, I will… And then I'll let you know every little detail of how it works on an every-day human. All right?"
Uncertain but unwilling to let go of this chance, she nodded slowly. "Okay… You have a deal."
"Great." Oliver grinned. "I think this is going to be a very beneficial partnership, Dr. Black."
She smiled. "I believe you're right."
…
Hours later, Chloe stepped off the elevator, shaking her head. Briefly tapping her Bluetooth to let him know she was talking to someone, she half-rolled her eyes. "No, Lois, really, Thanksgiving is in less than a week and I promise you, I have it covered…" She sighed, shrugging her jacket off. "Yes, I know you're getting better at cooking, but-" She paused, listening, and then scoffed. "Of course we're not flying Elly out here to cook. She has family I'm sure she'll want to spend it with. Oliver and I are putting everything together ourselves…" Kicking her shoes off, she hung her jacket on a rack and moved to the couch off to the side, stretching her toes and the arch of her feet as she plopped down on the seat. "No, we're having a few friends come for dinner, too… You don't know them…" She snorted. "I'm sorry to burst your bubble, but there are more people in my life than you and Oliver…" She rubbed the furrow of her brows. "Yes, they're male… No Lois, I'm not dating any of them… Victor, AC, and Bart…" She grinned then. "I'm sure you'll hit it off with all of them and no, I'm not setting you up a date with any of them… Hey, I gotta go, okay? I'll call you later. Ye-" She nodded, "Yes, love you too, bye."
Hitting the end button, she blew out a heavy sigh and leaned back into the couch. "Please tell me you had time to pick up the turkey today… I was walking through the stores earlier and I swear there is a turkey shortage going on."
From behind the desk, Oliver grinned. "I picked up a turkey… A big one… One that I think even Bart won't be able to consume in one sitting."
She chuckled lightly. "Good… He's been texting me all day about various dishes he's hoping are coming with dinner. Candied yams, sweet potatoes, brussel sprouts, turkey, stuffing, cranberry sauce, asparagus… This is like his day; the day to overeat and give thanks for it."
"We'll pick up extra… of everything..." He pursed his lips. "Are you sure you want to invite the boys? Having them sit down to a meal with Lois is like begging for a headline we don't want."
"She'll be on her best behavior," Chloe assured. "No work talk, that goes for all of us…" She smiled. "It'll be fun." Rising from the couch, she walked over to him, sitting down on the corner of the desk. "What'd you do today?"
"Business meetings all morning," he replied, nodding.
"That's it?" She sighed faux-mournfully. "Oh, the life of a CEO… as boring as it gets."
He half-smiled. "There was a doctor who stopped in actually, looking for funding on her research project."
"Really? What's it involve?"
"Hea-"
Her phone rang then, drawing her attention and Chloe frowned, reaching for it. "It's Jim…" She looked up at him apologetically. "I'm sorry; I have to take this… I know he said I could work from wherever but his last two journalists couldn't take the pressure and he's been running around like, well, a turkey with his head cut off." Hopping to her feet, she bent down and kissed his cheek. "We'll talk about it later, okay?"
He nodded, watching her go as she touched her ear piece.
"Jim, hi… What's wrong now?"
Sitting back in his chair, Oliver opened the folder to RL65 again and started reading through the progress Dr. Black had made. When he told Chloe, he wanted to be sure he had all the facts.
…
Oliver had to wonder if they were always this busy, because it seemed they hardly had any time to breathe lately. It was good thing Thanksgiving was only a few days away or they might actually have to arrange a meeting just to get some face time with each other. Despite the distance, Chloe was working on various Star City related pieces for Jim since his last few hires hadn't worked out and she was his go-to journalist. Add on top of that her international columns and she was writing half the paper. They at least still had their mornings together, where they could silently enjoy each other's company, do yoga, and get a little peace in before the hectic rest of the day.
Oliver had nearly forgotten all about RL65 and since his last few patrols had ended with him uninjured, aside from a few bruises, he hadn't had to contemplate using the syringes Dr. Black had given him. But distantly, at the back of his mind, he couldn't help but wonder if he wasn't telling Chloe about it for a reason. In the past, they'd been able to talk about everything; he'd shared things with her he had hardly been able to admit to himself. And if he believed so much in what Pamela Black was creating, why didn't he show Chloe?
The answer he found wasn't one he liked.
He felt weak. In comparison to Clark Kent, a veritable man of steel, what skills Oliver had honed seemed inconsequential. And while he was comfortable sharing most everything with Chloe, the idea of telling her that he felt like less of a hero with Clark out there didn't exactly rank high on his to-do list. The last thing he wanted to appear in her eyes was anything less of a man and when they'd taken it upon themselves to become these vigilante heroes, he'd felt stronger than ever before. Not only physically but in his mind-set, spiritually.
But if this worked, if RL65 could really heal him from whatever injuries his duo-identity might bring upon him, then the Clark Kent's of the world might as well be on an even playing field. Maybe it was selfish or self-involved, but if it meant keeping him alive long enough to save others… wasn't that what was important?
He promised himself that as soon as he knew RL65 was the right drug and that it worked, he would share it with her. After all, keeping her safe was more important than anything else.
…
"Okay… For future reference, Victor is a god at his job… and you're lucky to have him," Chloe said, looking through the various faxed over papers in her lap. "And he's right… The weapons department is overused and understaffed…" Looking up, she arched a brow. "I've looked through some of the recommendations he's made and they're solid. And I mean, did-a-background-on-them-and-every-distant-family-member solid…"
Oliver chuckled under his breath. "And the budget?"
She shook her head. "You could put a dozen more people in that section and I guarantee it'll be worth it. Right now, progress is slower than usual. You guys lost a couple good people last year to Luthorcorp's less than scrupulous fishing for your employees and since then, a few of the others have been trying to make up for lost productivity… Unfortunately, it's weighing on them." Sitting back against the couch, she held up a stack of folders. "We've got fourteen resumes and it's time for you to put those CEO skills to work…" She waved them in the air.
He smiled. "Hire Victor's recommendations and leave the rest for me to sort through."
"Done." Nodding, she separated five from the pile and held the other nine up. "We've got four women, five men, and two are former Luthorcorp employees."
His eyes narrowed. "Former like they were mysteriously fired and are likely plants or former like they didn't agree with Luthorcorp policy and moved on to bigger, better things?"
She grinned. "I checked their history, with a little creative hacking, and I'd bet money these two were plants."
"So we're down to seven, okay…" He nodded thoughtfully. "Most qualified?"
She thumbed through them and plucked out two. "Twenty-five years of tech work between them."
He nodded. "Approved. Who else?"
"Mmm… This one…" She held up one of the folders. "Promising but I think she needs a little more field work before we let her play with the big boys."
"Young?"
Eyes wide for emphasis, she nodded.
"Offer her a paid internship." He motioned for the next one.
A beeping in the other room called her attention then and Chloe hopped up from the couch. "That would be our popcorn." Moving the folders to the table, she walked toward the kitchen. "Look through the other four… I think there's really only one left that would fit, two seem really out of their element and the other I think Victor sent over for a laugh."
His brows furrowed. "A laugh?"
"Check her hobbies… Modeling lingerie and jetting around the world…" She scoffed. "Yeah, I think she's looking for a rich husband, not a job!"
"What's her number?"
"Har, har," she returned, no doubt rolling her eyes.
Laughing to himself, Oliver picked up the papers, flipping through them, eyes scanning credentials and mission statements. Walking around the room in thought, he passed near the open balcony door, letting the cool night air in.
"I'm adding extra butter," she called out to him. "I don't care if it means more yoga!"
He smiled lightly, turning to reply only to pause mid-thought when he heard voices and crying down below. Stuffing the papers under his arm, he walked out onto the balcony and leaned over to see where it was coming from.
A car alarm blared, glass shattering, and a woman screaming out for help. Oliver's good mood faded quickly as he stepped back, his body tensing with the desire to fight.
"Chloe… Leave the popcorn, we've got something a little more pressing," he called out, bee-lining it for the hidden room they kept their gear.
Peeking her head out, brows furrowed, she saw where he was going and frowned. "Trouble I'm not aware of?"
"Carjacking downstairs…" Oliver grabbed his Green Arrow gear and glanced at her over his shoulder. "Meet me down there. These guys can't wait."
She gave a sharp nod.
…
Downstairs, a couple were being forced at gunpoint to empty their pockets. Sobbing, the woman struggled to stand upright, searching through her jacket with shaking hands.
Having been shoved into a car repeatedly, the man was feeling it, though adrenaline and fear had him listening as the two gunmen ordered him to give them everything he could find.
Impatient and fed up, the gunman, a scraggly looking man with tangled hair reaching past his chin, suddenly grabbed him by his shoulder and shoved him back before lifting his gun arm and bringing it back down heavily on the unarmed man's shoulder. As he fell to his knees, he was bashed painfully in the face with the butt of the gun and the fist around it.
Behind them, his accomplice shook his shaved head, laughing.
Breathing heavily, the gunman pointed his weapon at the woman. "You want some of this?" he growled, spittle escaping his lips.
"They don't…" Green Arrow's voice interrupted. "But I do."
He stared, wide-eyed at the leather-toting hero, not sure what to do.
Raising his crossbow, Oliver squeezed the trigger and released an arrow that slammed into the man's shoulder.
Grunting and reaching for his arm, he fell to the ground, his gun skittering across the wet pavement.
Together, the couple stared and then rose to their feet, eager to get away from the scene.
Scared, the second man jumped into the car and turned the ignition, backing up so quickly the tires squealed. Turning around, he began following the road leading out of the parkade, while Oliver leisurely walked across to stand on the ledge, drawing an arrow out from his quiver and lifting his long bow, aiming with careful precision. With a slight tilt to his lips, he released and watched as his arrow shattered the glass and startled the driver into swerving, losing control as his stolen car slammed into a parked truck, skidding still until it hit yet another parked vehicle.
Making his way down, Oliver circled the car as it smoked and sputtered, finally dying out, and yanked the passenger door open. Leaning inside, he handcuffed the thug to the steering wheel and sneered as he sat dazedly staring on, blood dribbling down his chin. Grabbing him by his shirt to get his attention, Oliver shook him a little. "Don't worry… cop's 'll have a key," he said before stepping back out and closing the door.
As he turned back around, feeling the thrill of a job well done, he was met with the previous thug holding a gun aimed at him. "Surprise," he rasped.
There was a moment where time seemed to slow down, where Oliver was certain that this bullet would be the end of everything. All that he'd worked for, all that he and Chloe had built, gone because a man with a gun hadn't appreciated the interference. A barrage of questions, of answers he never let himself give, filled his mind, and only one regret seemed to weigh on his shoulders.
An emptiness filled the man's eyes before he squeezed the trigger, as if he wouldn't be bothered by this theft of life anymore than he might any other small disturbance in his regular life. The snap-crack of the gun entered his ears in the same second Chloe attacked, the same breath he could see her white-clad body. The bullet pierced the right side of his chest; he swore he could feel every agonizing millimeter it cut through. A breath escaped his lungs, the last he was sure he'd ever breathe. Chloe was fighting the thug still, kicking and sparring and sending a foot painfully into the man's solar plexus until he grunted, hit the ground with his knees, his hands scraping along the pavement. And she kept attacking, out of fear or anger, he couldn't be sure. But her knee met his nose, shattering it, blood pouring, and she grabbed his hair, yanking his head back, staring down into his soulless eyes.
His hands were searching the ground as he sneered up at her through blood-stained teeth and he raised his gun again in a shaky, torn up hand.
"Ch-Ch-" Oliver choked out.
A second shot rang out and Oliver felt the tear in his heart worse than if he'd been hit a second time. The bullet blazed past her and she didn't even flinch, instead raising an arm back and bringing it down quick and fast, so brutally hard that the man was knocked sideways and out cold, hitting the pavement with a thud.
Oliver lay on the ground, staring off into the distant night, at the stars that seemed to fade from behind his eyes. He could hear his heartbeat slowing, could feel every inch of his body like it was a lead weight slowly slinking into the depths of darkness. And then she was there, leaning over him, her hood tossed back and her blonde hair falling across her cheeks.
"Oliver, hold on…" she told him, but her voice was hollow, as if coming through a tunnel. She reached for him, touched his face, and he thought it might be raining then because something warm and wet was falling against his face, slipping into the hollows of his eyes and splashing along the lenses of glasses.
He blacked out then, the taste of her tears salty on his tongue.
When he came back to, they were in the apartment and he was laid out across a table, his leather vest and undershirt tossed. Chloe's suit was unzipped and shoved down to her waist. Her hands and forearms were tinted red with drying blood and the white gauze she held was following the same route as she tried time and again to stop the bleeding. She was muttering under her breath, none of it quite reaching his ears enough to make sense, and her brow was furrowed. She bit her lip, shaking her head, as if she were arguing with herself.
He grabbed at her, his own hands slick with blood, slipping on her arm.
She stared down at him then, green eyes bloodshot as tears coursed down her cheeks. "You idiot," she rasped brokenly. "You should've waited for me." She reached the back of her hand up to wipe viciously at the tears but it only smeared blood across her cheek.
"The d-drawer," he choked out, turning his head toward the weapons room. "Syringe…"
She followed his gaze and though she couldn't understand what it meant, she trusted him enough to check it out. Inside the drawer she found a lead box, a syringe filled with purple liquid lying inside. Taking it, she ran back to him, her brows arched. "And this would be…?"
"The deciding factor," he said, trying to smile. "I-I'll ex-plain… Just…" He could feel the blood pooling beneath him. "Can't hurt t-to try…"
Her eyes fell worriedly to his chest and then returned to his face. "You better hope this works… Or I'm resurrecting you and kicking your ass…" With that, she turned his arm over, found a vein and stuck it in, pushing down on the plunger until every last drop coursed through him. Drawing it back out, she waited, staring. When nothing immediate happened, she bit her lip. "I'm calling an ambulance."
"No, just… just wait…" He inhaled deeply. "I can feel it… It's working."
"Yeah, or that's the blood loss talking and you're about to die!" Stepping back, she reached for the phone. "They ask questions, I'll come up with something, but I can't just let you lie here-"
He sat up suddenly, reaching for his chest and probing at the tender flesh. "Chloe… Look…"
She stared, brows furrowed. "I don't get it. How…" She dropped the phone back to its cradle and walked toward him. "Oliver…" She touched his chest where the hole seemed to mend itself before her eyes, skin knitting together, nothing but a faint smudge of blood left behind to show there was anything there previously. Her eyes rose to his. "Not that I'm not overwhelmingly grateful, but I need an explanation…"
He nodded slowly. "There's this scientist, Dr. Pamela Black, she came to me awhile back, she needed funding for her research." He stared at her searchingly. "The healing properties alone had me signing on the dotted line. Chloe…" He half-smiled. "Think about what this could mean for people, for us…"
She frowned. "Given that this isn't out in the general public, I'll go with the assumption that the FDA hasn't approved it… Meaning I just injected you with something that we can't be sure won't cause horrible reactions… For all we know, it could revert back on itself and start killing you. Oliver… We don't know what this is." She held the empty syringe out to him. "Until this is out of its testing phase and we know what it could mean, I don't want you using it anymore…"
Jumping off the table, he reached for her shoulders. "But Chloe, look at me… I feel great, better than I ever have." His eyes widened in emphasis. "I was shot, nearly dead, but I feel like I could go a few rounds with Clarkright about now." He grinned. "This is a huge breakthrough…"
"Maybe… One day…" she half-agreed, nodding. "But until I know it's not going to do far worse, I need you to leave it alone."
He sighed, shoulders slumping. "I don't need it anyway… Look, why don't you wash up and we'll finish patrolling?" he suggested.
She blinked. "Patrolling." She shoved his shoulder. "You nearly died! Right now I feel like burning your leathers and checking you into the hospital. So no, I'm not going anywhere…" She looked around at the bloody rags and then down at herself. "But I am going to clean up."
He stared at her a long moment, his feet fidgeting. "You're right… I'll help you put everything away."
"No, it's…" She shook her head. "Go take a shower, change out of your suit…" She looked up at him, the night weighing heavy on her expression. "I need a minute anyway."
Nodding, he backed up, gathering his vest before he left for the bathroom.
Taking a shaky breath, Chloe bent to her knees and buried her face in her hands, trying to breathe through the pain in her chest. She didn't know if she was angry or scared or a mixture of the two, but she was definitely overwhelmed. Tears flooding her eyes, she squeezed them closed and tried to focus on her breathing. He was okay. He was fine. He was alive. It was her mantra.
…
Later that night, Oliver sat at the desk he'd earlier been sprawled across. A few hours ago he'd been on the verge of death and now he felt fitter than ever. He could feel energy coursing through his veins, begging to be put to good use. Chloe was fast asleep in her bed and while he'd agreed to stay home now that she was lying down, he felt like he'd be of better use out in Metropolis. The argument she made for him not to take it again was valid and maybe if his mind wasn't running a mile a minute he'd have let it be. But while he sat there at the desk, holding her hooded jacket in his hands, his jaw ticked.
Tonight he had almost died. Tonight he had been shot. What she hadn't realized was it had almost been her fate, too. Oliver slid his forefinger through the hole in her white hood, where inches away her face would've been. One of the reasons he'd gone along with Dr. Black's research was because he could see what good it could do for him and Chloe and the team. They weren't like Clark Kent, they weren't impermeable. While Bart had super speed, he could still be hurt if he were ever caught. While Victor's skeleton was metal, half his body a man-made computer, he was still a flesh and blood human. While AC was at his prime in the water, stronger than most human men could ever dream of, put him in the sun and he wilted, weakened. And Chloe… she was just a woman, just a human wearing a suit and picking up the mask of justice. She wasn't endowed with any powers to help her out of a scratch, just instinct and the skill of a true fighter.
But this… this could revolutionize them. This could save them before they ever needed saving.
So yes, Chloe was right. Waiting would be smart, safe, but how long until another gun was pointed in their direction? How long before he was trying to staunch the blood as she died before him? What if the FDA approved it too late? It couldn't resurrect her and he for damn sure wasn't about to let her die. And who better to test it than somebody who put himself in danger's way more often than anyone else? Why not him? Why not let him do this and prove to her that it worked? And then they could all be as strong and as safe as Clark Kent was. They could face danger without the fear that it would be their last night, their last breath.
He came to the conclusion then that for once in their friendship he would have to make this choice without Chloe. For Chloe. And he convinced himself that she would understand, she would approve, when everything came to light.
With that, he held her hood tight in his hands and he stared down at the bullet hole that could have meant her death. And he knew… there was no going back.
…
When Chloe woke the next morning, she found Oliver doing yoga. Since he usually waited for her to wake up, she found herself confused.
"I made you breakfast," his voice interrupted her thoughts. Though his eyes were closed, he seemed to notice her presence. "It's on the table." He moved to a standing position and grinned at her. "I think later we should lift weights…" He clapped his hands together, his feet fidgeting. "It's been awhile since you've done any muscle-building exercises, I thought we'd try something new."
She blinked. "You're chipper this morning." She eyes him skeptically. "Get a good sleep?"
"The best," he boasted, nodding. "Hey, you feel like going for a run? I really just feel like a few miles would really loosen me up."
She smiled faintly. "That near-death experience really got you eager for the finer things," she joked.
He crossed the floor to her, grabbing up a towel and wiping the sweat from his chest. "It's opened my eyes…" He leaned down to press a kiss to her cheek. "So whattya say? You wanna be my sparring partner?"
Her brows arched. "And miss out on breakfast?" She slid past him toward the kitchen. "Why don't you go spar by your lonesome for awhile and I'll get a little something on my stomach before I meet you in there, okay?"
He nodded abruptly, backing toward their work-out room. "Watch out, Sullivan, I'm feeling more on my game than ever."
She scoffed playfully. "Yeah, we'll see."
With a wink, he turned around and made his way back inside.
Chloe found a high-carb breakfast waiting for, which wasn't her usual but she went with it, eating as much of the oatmeal as she could, though she wasn't touching the dried figs with a ten foot pole. If he ever made her dried non-fat milk again, however, they were going to have a talk. Holding her coffee in hand, she made her way back to the sparring room, leaning in the doorway to watch him workout. After a few seconds, her brows furrowed. He was hitting the punching bag so hard it was actually cracking under the force and blood was coating his knuckles. Oliver was strong, she knew. Over the years, she'd seen him take and hand out a few severe beatings. Put him in a room with just about any opponent and he would likely win. But this was overkill.
Sweat glistening across his skin with the effort, he stared intensely, focused as he jabbed right and left, and repeat. His arms were moving so quickly, they were mere blurs to her eyes, pummeling the heavybag so hard it was heaving out of place. Her eyes widened as he hammered the bag one last time, causing the chain to finally give way. The bag crashed to the floor, cracked open and spilling its contents across the mats.
Hands on his hips, chest heaving, he stared at his a long second before spotting her. Breathing heavy, he clapped his hands. "Hey, you ready?"
She blinked. "After you killed the bag…" She laughed slightly, feeling almost nervous. "How about we let you cool down and then we'll see how you're feeling…" She stared at his hands. "And maybe get those wrapped."
He frowned, glancing at his fists. "Huh, couldn't even feel it." He shrugged. "So… Weights?" He grinned.
A bad feeling filled her, one she couldn't shake off. "You know what… I just remembered that I have a lunch date with Lois…" She backed away slowly. "I'll call you later, okay? We'll get dinner or something?"
Brows furrowed, he watched her hurry out of the apartment.
…
Sprawled atop his bench, Oliver hands lay center on the massive barbell he was lifting high above, drawing it back down and then reaching back up. He could feel the burn in his biceps, the tension in his chest, the sweat as it dotted his skin. It was exhilarating. Since Chloe left, he'd done nothing but work out. There was an eagerness inside him to do something and he couldn't stop it. Didn't want to. With each stretch of his arms, the weight lifted high above, he felt his body fighting to be better, be stronger. And he loved it.
Distantly, he heard the elevator as it stopped at the top, the metal doors clanging open. He hoped it was Chloe. There was some primal desire inside him to show her just how much better he was, to prove to her that the drug was working better than ever intended.
"You're looking awfully healthy," Clark called out.
Glancing over his shoulder, he grunted. For some reason he couldn't understand, irritation built up inside him at the very sight of the farm boy. "It's call exercise, Clark." Sitting up, he grabbed his towel and rubbed down his neck and chest. "It's something we mere mortals have to do from time to time." Standing from his bench, he walked toward a table where his shirt was laid out.
"According to the Daily Planet, the Green Arrow was shot last night."
Dragging the black muscle tee up his arms, Oliver half-rolled his eyes, scoffing to himself. With an arrogant smirk, he asked, "If I was shot, don't you think I'd be laying in a hospital or a morgue?" Frowning, he reminded, "I'm not bulletproof like you are, Clark. Besides," He dragged his shirt over his head, "You of all people should know better than to believe everything you read in the newspaper."
"It's the Daily Planet, not the Inquisitor." His brows arched for emphasis. "A witness saw you lying in a pool of blood."
"Well," Oliver threw his arms up, "maybe it was someone else with a preference for green."
Unconvinced, Clark shook his head. "Someone else who had a sidekick in white out there defending their honor? The witness said somebody else came out of the woodwork, took out the gunmen and carried you off to safety… Now, I assume that's Chloe." He looked around for her, instead spotting gear lying haphazardly around. Brows furrowed, he walked toward the vest thrown across the back of a chair. "What's your Green Arrow gear doing out in the middle of the room?"
Distracted, Oliver glanced back at him. "I'm uploading a video. Check this out." Grabbing a remote control, he aimed it at the screen, turning it on. Lifting his Green Arrow glasses, he pointed them toward Clark, producing an image on the television of him through the glasses camera. "See that? Now I've got footage of the scumbags, so if they try to get away…" He tossed his glasses away and turned off the TV. "I can track them down."
"Oliver, you're getting sloppy. You gear's out in the middle of the room, the door's unlocked. That could have been your assistant coming through the door."
Pausing next to his desk, Oliver filled a glass with chilled water. "Yeah, you know what? I've had a lot on my mind lately, all right? Apparently, you were too busy using your powers to bale hay than to realize there's a crime wave in Metropolis." Dropping the water container back to the desk with a clunk, he looked up at him and sneered sarcastically, "Let me ask you a question…" He licked his lips. "Are you ever gonna get off your ass and finally do something for a change? Or you just gonna leave it up to me and Chloe? Huh?"
Clark glared. "I didn't come here to be insulted."
"Well, you know what? There's the door." He motioned, walking away from him carelessly. "I don't remember you being invited."
"Oliver, what's going on with you?" he demanded.
Turning back to him, he shrugging, yelling, "Clark, I don't need to take advice from someone whose only worry in life is to protect his own identity, okay?"
"That's a lie. You know it!"
"Let me tell you something." Motioning behind him, he advanced toward Clark angrily, his voice raising with intensity, "When I'm out there, when I'm out on the streets, I'm protecting people, all right?" He raised his arm, water glass in hand, and used it to hammer home his point. "I got much bigger things to worry about! Like staying alive. Like keeping Chloe alive!" Suddenly, the glass shattered beneath his grip, shards falling to the floor. With a growl, he shook the last of the glass away and stared down at the blood pooling in his palm.
Brows furrowed, Clark looked from him to the floor. Carefully, skeptical, he asked, "You okay?"
Grabbing up his towel, he wiped at the wound carelessly. "I'm fine. Just get out of here," he said, quieter now, thoughtful.
"You sure?"
"GO!" he yelled, motioning back toward the elevator, his brows raised, eyes wide.
Jaw clenching, Clark stared at him a moment longer. When Oliver simply stared back, Clark finally walked past him to leave, climbing on the elevator and closing the cage door behind him.
As the metal door snapped closed, Oliver walked to his desk drawer and dug out the extra syringes he'd gotten off of Dr. Black and took a seat at the desk. Taking one out, he stared at it a moment, his knee bouncing. This would make it all go away and he'd back to tip-top shape. No wound, no pain, nothing to get in his way when he was out patrolling tonight. And Chloe wouldn't ask questions, wouldn't know that he'd gotten into it with Clark because there'd be no sign of it. He licked his lips, half-desperate for the injection and yet uncertain if he should. He could hear her voice in his head, in his ear, telling him not to. But then he remembered the hood, how close it was, how it could've been her and not him lying on the table last night. He could've lost her.
Jaw tightening, he stuck the syringe into his arm and pressed down on the plunger. He felt as it coursed through his veins, a slow burn that made his toes curl. Breathing heavily, fighting a wave of guilt, he lifted his hand and dragged the towel away, wiping the blood as it went. His hand was stitched back together, clear of any previous cut, and inhaling deeply, he could feel the exhilaration of before. The need to do something, to get out there and prove to himself that he could be as good, if not better, at this hero thing than any number of Clark Kent's. But first… He needed to talk to Dr. Black and let her know she was on the right path.
…
Chloe glanced down as her phone rang shrilly. Picking it up, she checked the screen and found it was none other than Clark Kent. Eyes narrowed, she flipped it open and held it to her ear. "How'd you get my number?" she asked bluntly.
"I'm not as inept as you might think."
She scoffed. "We'll see… What's up, Red and Blue?"
"It's Oliver…" He sighed. "Look, I dropped by your apartment to check in… The DP was running a story that Oliver was shot-"
"He was," she admitted. "And thanks to a little liquid intervention, he managed to live… Although I'm starting to wonder if the Oliver I revived is really my Oliver at all…" Wondering if she said too much, she shook her head. "I'm guessing he wasn't his usual charming self when you dropped by."
"He was… angry. And his gear was just lying around."
Closing her eyes, she frowned. "Look, Clark, I realize you're probably used to sticking your nose in other people's business… Trust me, as a reporter, I know the feeling. But I need you to back off on this. I will handle it."
He sighed and she knew he wasn't about to give up on it so easily. "I know I don't know you guys very well and trust is earned, but I feel like you and Oliver could be good allies and I don't want to turn my back on this… Look, Chloe, I saw him injecting himself with something… I don't think it was doctor prescribed."
Biting her lip, she felt her chest ache with the news. "It's this… super drug that he's been funding… It's supposed to have some sort of healing power in it. I'm looking into it… Just, please, Clark… Leave this alone."
"Chloe, he's not himself right now, and based on his behavior… Frankly, I'm not sure you can handle him."
She shook her head. "You don't know him or us enough to judge that… If Oliver's out of control, I will reign him in." With that, she hung up her phone and took a deep breath.
For the first time in their friendship, Oliver had basically lied to her and while she didn't agree with Clark, she knew that something was very wrong and it couldn't go on.
Reaching for her phone once more, she hit three on her speed dial and listened to it ring.
"Hello?"
"Victor… Hey… I-I need you guys to come to Metropolis…" She exhaled heavily. "We have an intervention on our hands."
…
As Oliver walked through Dr. Black's laboratory, he could feel an anxiousness working beneath his skin. He stretched his hands, feeling every bone and tendon as they moved to comply. Spotting the good doctor as she wrote notes on her various little lab mice scurrying about in their plastic containers, he made his way toward her. "You're a miracle worker, doc."
She looked up, spotting him, and her mouth puckered in disappointment. "We need to talk, Mr. Queen."
"We certainly do." Tucking his arms behind his back, he nodded his chin up, telling her, "I finally found myself injured badly enough to use the RL65… And it works," he nodded for emphasis. "Perfectly."
She stared up at him, looking rather surprised, her eyes wide.
"And not just once. I cut my hand and after one injection, I was completely healed."
Staring at him a moment, her eyes cut away and she told him, "Well don't take anymore," before moving to walk past him.
"Last time I checked, doctor," He turned, smirking darkly, "you work for me."
"The lab mice have been exhibiting irrational cognitive behavior," she explained seriously. "And more troubling… violent tendencies."
Unconvinced and feeling annoyed, he sneered, "I'm not a mouse. I feel fine."
"Do you?" She looked up at him wonderingly, brows arched high. "No… lapses in judgment? No… sudden outbursts of anger?"
Swallowing tightly, he nodded. "Not really…" His eyes narrowed. "But I am starting to feel one coming on right now."
"It's not worth risking possible psychosis just so you can climb Mount Everest or… parachute out of your Learjet," she argued, half-rolling her eyes.
"This isn't about my recreational activities, doctor," he exclaimed, leaning in to make his point before he walked past her, feeling a tremble of anger run through his every muscle.
She stared up at him, wide-eyed.
"We're on the verge of a medical breakthrough that could save countless lives... I'm more than honored to be the guinea pig."
Surprised and unnerved by his behavior, she simply stood slack-jawed before him.
Grabbing up a handful of RL65 vials, he stuffed them in his pockets. With a sarcastic and disturbing smile, he told her, "Trust me, I can handle the occasional temper tantrum," before turning around and leaving.
Dr. Black watched him go, breathing a little harsher than before, her eyes darting to the floor as she questioned the ramifications of what just happened.
…
As Oliver left the building, his phone rang. Reaching for it, he dug it out of his pocket and checked the ID, smiling to himself as he hit the talk button and brought it to his ear. "Hey Sunshine," he greeted. "Where are you? I wanted to talk to you about something…"
"I wanted to talk to you, too," she murmured carefully. "Ollie… Clark called me."
Oliver's jaw ticked, his smile fading away. "Clark," he repeated, his voice taking on a noticeably darker tone. "I didn't realize you two were getting so buddy-buddy."
"We're… not," she answered. "Look, he said… You were acting strangely when he dropped by. You were… angry and out of sorts…"
Licking his lips, Oliver climbed into his car and slammed the door beside him. "Given how clueless the farmboy is, I'm surprised he noticed anything," he muttered sharply. "So he dropped by at a bad time, I'll send him an apology card later."
"That's not what this is about… And since when do you dislike Clark? A couple weeks ago you were practically signing him up for hero duty," she reminded.
"That was before I realized we don't need him… He can stay on his farm and play with his hay for all I care; we don't need his negativity or his naivety… We can do this without the local man of steel, right? We're stronger and smarter than him and with this RL65, Chloe…" He sighed thickly. "We can do anything!"
"You told me you weren't going to use it again," she murmured quietly, the disappointment in her voice obvious.
"Damn it, Chloe!" He slammed his hand against the steering wheel. "Why can't you see how huge this is? Why can't you trust me when I say this could revolutionize what we do?"
"You're not thinking clearly!" she argued. "You're running around, hyped up on your own variety of steroids, and you're lying to your friends!"
"What'd Clark tell you? Huh? So I lost my temper a little. You get him to spy on me, Chloe? Hm? Your new little hero and his holier-than-thou appeal see me shooting up and call to tattle on me? That it?"
"Oliver, will you listen to yourself? Clark called me because he was worried… He went to see you because he thought you were hurt and suddenly you're treating him like he's not important anymore…" She sighed, shaking her head. "He thinks you're out of control and he doesn't know you like I do, he doesn't care like I do, so you know what…? He's not going to see Oliver; he's just going to see some half-crazy guy with a sudden power complex and enough juice to get him into serious trouble…" She paused, taking a deep breath. "I want you to stop… I want you to return whatever you have left of that RL65 and if we have to, we'll get you into a treatment center… I will stay with you the whole time, Oliver, but you can't keep doing this."
"A treatment center," he spat. "You think I'm a drug-addict, Chloe?" His chest burned, hands fisting tight around the steering wheel. "Is it Clark… or you who thinks I've lost control?"
"I think you're playing with fire… and you're too deep into it to realize you're getting burned…" she whispered brokenly.
"I'm not," he croaked, his voice giving way. He could feel his hands, his body, shaking. "I can handle this. We can handle this… Chloe, if you just tried it, if you knew what it felt like… There's nobody stronger, nothing that can hurt you… We'd be untouchable." He wiped viciously at a tear that broke from his eye.
"Ollie, please…"
"No!" he yelled, burying his face in his hands and trying desperately to inhale air while his lungs felt like they were burning up, too full and too empty at the same time. Holding the phone tight between his head and his shoulder, he ground his teeth together. "I can't- I won't do this without you… You're the only person who matters to me… The only person I care about saving."
"That's not true, Oliver… You're a hero, you save people every day… And you have friends, team mates, that love and care about you. And they only want the best for you. They don't care if you're as strong as Clark. They trust you, they believe in you… That's why this team works, because we're real people doing the right thing…" She sniffled. "You don't need this drug."
"I need you… I j-just…" He sighed, his fingers pressing hard into his eyes and scraping down his face. His skin felt too hot, his entire body felt wrong. "Chloe, I need you… I need you to understand this and support this. Please… Please, Chloe…"
She paused and all he could hear was the quiet shallow inhale and exhale of her breath.
Finally, she replied in an emotional, trembling voice, "No."
Oliver snapped, something inside of him letting lose as he crushed the phone beneath his hand and hollered until his voice left his throat raw.
He'd lost her. She was walking away. She wouldn't stand at his back. She-She abandoned him.
Eyes wide and bloodshot, he felt the tears as they built up but could care less. Breathing heavily, his chest heaving, he shook his head. This was all that thugs fault. If he hadn't been shot, he wouldn't have taken RL65, and Chloe wouldn't be doing this. He could've brought Chloe to Dr. Black and she could've explained how incredible it was, how much it could help them. If it wasn't for that robber…
Snarling, he pulled out onto the road and sped home. It was time he took a good look at the footage and get out there and find him. He had to pay for this; for everything he ever did. Justice would prevail. Green Arrow would make it so.
[Next: Part II.]