Subtraction Time (Chapter Three)

PREVIOUS CHAPTER

Flashbacks to what Chloe’s doing during Supergirl and I suppose this fits between the 53-56 minute mark of Batman Begins.

Chapter Three

November, 2011

Chloe leaned heavily on her suitcase. “You said you were fine with it,” she heaved out as she pushed down hard. 

Oliver pulled at the zipper, which still refused to budge. “I said I was fine with you doing it. You’re used to it. I didn’t know you were going to insist on me…” He grunted and stepped away. “Okay. Tell the truth now. You didn’t roll your clothes. You just tossed them in like you always…”

“Would you stop changing the subject? But no,” she sighed. “I didn’t fold my clothes into your stupid little balls.”

“No. Babe, it’s a tube. You fold, then you roll tightly. Take it from an expert traveler. You create more space when…”

“Oh, my God,” she groaned, sitting on the suitcase. “I’m not repacking. Just try it now.” She knew this was more than some attack of neatness, though he just might be just a wee bit neater than she was with some things. This was him chickening out. “You said you’d try it and I’m holding you to it,” she said firmly as she crossed her legs and waited for him to zip.

“I said I’d try it one of these days. I didn’t mean today.” He finally pulled the zipper closed with a flourish. “I have a perfectly good jet and Happy Harbor’s just up the coast…”

“And you’ll be there hours later than any of us.” She hopped off and poked him in the chest. “It’s either teleport or call Clark to fly you here and I know you won’t be doing that.”

“Do you blame me?” he grumbled. “Do you even know how many bugs I swallowed from Topeka to Kansas that one…”

“Oh, you get used to it,” she said dismissively. Hell, she might have swallowed hundreds traveling the more earth-bound Clark Kent express for years. There were always more bugs nearer to the ground. “Anyway, I promise that you will not swallow one bug with Rachel. It’ll be a blink and a poof and there you are!” She tugged at his shirt. “Come on! She really wants to show off and I feel like she’s only just stopped being afraid of what she can do and…”

“Well, she’s right to be afraid of what she can do. It sure as hell freaks me out. Chloe…” He took a deep breath. “You’re talking about letting a teenager teleport two people from Gotham to Rhode Island. That’s over two hundred miles!”

“You just said it was just up the coast, like it’s nothing,” she had to point out.

“Well… It’s… just… different,” he sputtered. “I mean, magic…”

Chloe rolled her eyes. “I thought you were getting over that. You’re used to Zatanna by now.”

“Well, she’s different. She’s fully grown-up and, I’d like to point out,” he said, jabbing a finger in some vague western direction, “that even she doesn’t fully trust Rachel and even she says magic is tricky and Rachel is barely a legal adult and she’s just so…”

“Giving and selfless?” Chloe supplied quickly. “Look at what Rachel did for you,” she cut in, placing a hand against his chest. “You would have either spent the rest of your life wearing Zod’s mark or several years having skin grafts to erase it and even then, it would still be visible. She healed you completely.”

“I’m not saying she didn’t do something amazing for me, but if something goes wrong…”

“Oliver, I trust Rachel,” Chloe said firmly. “Does that tell you anything?”

He stared at her for a long time before he sighed “It tells me everything I need to know.” He placed his hand over the one against his chest. “Alright. I’ll do it.”

She smiled and leaned up to meet his lips. “There’s nothing to worry about. You’ll see.”

October 8th, 2010

Chloe refused to look. She damned near covered her eyes as she passed the next news stand. She’d seen the horribly alliterative headlines screaming “METROPOLIS MEETS MAIDEN OF MIGHT.” She’d also seen Kara smiling either in full color or black and white. But she could not, would not look closer.

She’d been on complete media black-out because she knew, was absolutely positive, that hearing anything relating to home would have her rushing back, forgetting all the reasons she was staying away. It wasn’t just about trading for Oliver, somewhere in that strange time wearing Dr. Fate’s helmet, she’d known there was another reason to stay away, something she needed to do. She just hadn’t figured it out yet.

She put her hands down as she passed the news stand. So Kara was out of the super-closet. It didn’t have to be a problem. In fact, unless it was being reported that The Blur or Green Arrow were in the ICU or captivity, there was no reason for her to rush back.

She was on a path, here, even if it was hard to see what exactly might be at the end of it. But she had knocked Bruce down yesterday. He claimed he stumbled, but even if that was so, she kept her concentration and won a round. It didn’t matter how many rounds she’d lost. Progress was progress.

So she deserved a treat, a break, a lunch with her girls… or girl. Really, the only contact she had besides Bruce, Lucius, and Alfred was a teenaged girl who barely talked and couldn’t seem to get out of the disturbing habit of reading her mind. But, damn it all, she liked Rachel. It didn’t do anything for how much she missed Lois, though. She kept telling herself that Lois would be fine -- more than fine, Lois would be happy. She’d seen it, after all. But that didn’t stop the pangs when she walked into a bistro, thinking of the smiling face she usually saw on days like this.

She supposed, for now, Rachel’s was the face she’d see… if she could see it, which she couldn’t. But she did see a black hood bent over one table in the center and she supposed that was as close as she’d get to a smiling face with Rachel. She didn’t smile much. Chloe madly wondered if she could change that as she approached the table, get Rachel out of her shell.

“Checking Facebook?” she asked as she pulled out a chair.

“Tumblr,” Rachel said in her continually resigned monotone. “Facebook’s boring and you can’t post gifs. It’s only for old people talking to their high school friends.”

Chloe had nothing to say to that. Her life so far hadn’t lent itself to the transparency of social media and she definitely didn’t see that changing now. “Don’t you want to talk to your high school friends?”

“I don’t have high school friends.” Rachel shrugged. “No one talks to me.”

Chloe frowned at that. Rachel was so pretty and so powerful that it seemed like a recipe for a happy high school experience. Some girls might take advantage of that power, gain influence. As glad as she was Rachel wasn’t abusing her powers, it bugged her that all she seemed to do was hide. “Well maybe if you stop ducking behind that hood, people might feel free to talk to you,” she tried, hooking her purse on her chair.

“Oh. Sorry.” Rachel pushed her hood back. “Just used to it.”

“I’ve noticed.” Chloe smiled and opened her menu. “So how is school besides all that?”

“Pointless. I want to test out, but my mom won’t let me. She thinks I need to have a normal life or something.” She sighed. “It doesn’t matter. I’ll be eighteen soon and I’ll do what I want. I’ll be ready for him.” Her eyes flashed white.

Chloe gripped her hand. “Rachel?”

Rachel blinked several times, as if she’d forgot Chloe was there. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry. Just be careful,” she whispered. “I don’t think anyone saw.”

Rachel looked around at the other diners. “No. I’d hear it if they did.” Her expression returned to its usual weary resignation. “Doesn’t matter. I could fix it so they didn’t remember.”

“That’s no reason not to be careful," Chloe said, staring around her and wondering how Rachel could be so casual about modifying their memories. But there was another question here. "Who?”

“Huh?”

“You said you’d be ready for him. Who?”

Rachel shut down even more, if possible. “That’s not your problem. Don’t worry about that.”

“Well, that’s hard to help. You say you want to be part of a team and I want to help make that happen when I can, but Rachel…” Chloe squeezed her hand. “I need you to start being honest with me.”

“I haven’t lied,” she said firmly.

“You’ve also barely told me a thing.”

She shook her head. “You don’t need to know every…”

“You have to know I have my suspicions. Zatanna said she sensed demonic energy in you.”

Rachel drew away slightly. “So? What does that mean? I’m evil? Is that what you think?"

“No. I don’t think anything like that and you know it.”

Rachel crossed her arms and sat back. “Well, how should I know what you think anymore? You told me to stay out.”

Chloe smiled, hoping she would, too. “Maybe that’s because I needed a thought to myself. Believe it or not, most people don’t like a crowd up here.” She tapped her forehead. “It has nothing to do with me thinking bad thoughts about you. Far from it. Whatever it is you think I can’t handle knowing, you’d be surprised what I can take if…”

“…live to Metropolis, where Oliver Queen, CEO of Queen-Luthorcorp is holding a press conference. Joanne?”

“Thanks, Connie.” 

There was a lull. There was a TV in the corner behind her. And she madly wondered what an entire restaurant would think if she started plugging her ears and singing “Mary Had a Little Lamb” right now. She should excuse herself. She should step into the ladies room until it was over. She should, by no means, turn around and face that TV.

But that’s exactly what she did, staring at Joanne, whoever she was.

”Sources have said Tess Mercer will not be present for this conference, which was called by Queen alone. Since Queen Industries’ merge with Luthorcorp, the corporate world has wondered about these unlikely bedfellows. Is today the day this partnership dissolves?”

Not that she had a say, but Chloe had never been behind Oliver getting in bed with Tess -- not in any way. Yet she almost didn’t care what this was about, she was so eager just to see his face. Come on… come on…

The women were going back and forth about the conference, joking about this “Maiden of Might” and how she was the big news and was it too much to hope for a glimpse of her out the window? Yes. Haha. Aren’t those vigilantes fun? Now show me him!

Then she could turn away, pretend she hadn’t even looked, go back to Rachel and lunch as if this had never happened.

…now calling us in.

She stood now, turned fully to the TV as the doors opened and the camera moved into his office. He looked… tired, strained, miserable, but still so damned handsome she felt a silly urge to fix her hair, as if he could see her. She missed him so much. She ignored the urge to shush the other diners as he spoke.

“Thank you all for coming,” he said, his voice was firm and there was something in his eyes, something troubled. Was that her fault? Had she done this to him? “I brought you here to make an announcement,” he went on quickly. “People have these so-called vigilantes all wrong. There's only one way for me to set the record straight.” He just stared ahead, not even blinking. She knew that face. It meant business. Yet she’d be damned if she could have predicted what he said next. “I am Green Arrow.”

November, 2011

“I don’t see why I had to wear Green Arrow gear for this. It’s just a meeting, not a mission. What I was wearing was…”

“Not the point,” she finished, zipping up Oliver’s vest. “It’s about showing these kids what they’re training to be. And even if Oliver Queen and Green Arrow are synonymous to the whole world about now, these kids need to see Green Arrow. Clark’s wearing…”

“Say tights, say tights…”

“The… supersuit,” she finished over him.

“Aw, come on! Just say Clark wears tights. Come on. Just once. Just for me.”

“No. I like the cape. If you keep making him feel insecure about the outfit, he’ll go back to those stupid jackets right out of the eighties and I promised Lois…”

“Please? I promise I won’t tell him you said it.”

She sighed. “Clark wears tights.”

Oliver chuckled. “Never gets old.” His laughter died quickly when Rachel popped back in. 

“I delivered the bags,” she said, rubbing her hands together. “No one’s even there yet. We’ll be the first ones. Now…”

“You know, those bags weren’t that heavy.” Oliver moved to the table. “Why don’t you try one trip here and back with this and then we know for sure…”

Chloe groaned. “Oliver…”

“Or the TV,” he tried, moving to it. “I think it’s bolted in, but just to see if there’s a weight limit for telepo…”

“It’s okay. I’ve got you,” Chloe heard in her mind. From Oliver’s gasp, she suspected he heard it, too. She moved closer to Rachel. “You might be better off saying things out loud most of the time,” she told her, nodding toward Oliver, “just for the newbies.”

“What? I’m not new. I’m fine,” Oliver said a little too loudly. “I like people talking in my head. I prefer it, even, to regular… talking.”

She winked at Rachel, then moved to Oliver. “Ollie, you heard her. She’s got us.”

“Well, we aren’t exactly luggage,” he said as she dragged him to Rachel.

October 8th, 2010

“This isn’t my luggage,” Chloe mused aloud. She’d been packing for an hour and she only just realized that the clothes and suitcases weren’t even hers to take. Bruce had bought every bit of it. “Why am I even packing?”

“That’s a good question,” she heard from the doorway. 

She turned to find Bruce, looking about as sullen as he had when she first announced she was leaving.

“Why are you running off now?” he went on. “Does it have anything to do with the unusual amount of news coming out of Metropolis today?”

“I just meant that these aren’t mine.” She dropped the clothes and stared at them, avoiding the question. “It was very nice of you to buy them, but I should probably…”

“They were a gift,” he said, almost snapped. “You’re insulting me if you leave them.”

Her eyes moved to his, though they stay. "I won't, then."

“You were right about Lucius, you know.”

“Was I?” She moved her eyes back to the clothes, finding it hard to look at him. She felt she was failing him somehow, by just leaving after all he’d done for her.

“He knows. I don’t know how much he knows. But he knows me base-jumping is a load of bull.”

She turned to him again. “What did he say?”

“He said he didn’t want to know.” Bruce shrugged. “Whatever I’m doing, he’d rather not know so he doesn’t have to lie.”

“Smart man.” She nodded. 

“Either way, he gave me some new toys. Memory cloth. And he has a vehicle I might…” He stopped. “Never mind. You don’t need to know this.”

But she did. Or maybe she just wanted to. God. What was she thinking? Just walking out on Bruce like this? Maybe he was that nebulous reason she needed to stay away. Maybe she was supposed to help him be all the things she saw in him. “If you need me…”

“I don’t need anyone. Have a safe trip,” he said abruptly, moving out of the room.

Need. It was the wrong word to say to him. She should have known that by now. And maybe he was right. Maybe he didn’t need her or anyone. Maybe she should go where she was needed. 

And maybe she should also examine why being needed seemed to be the only deciding factor in her life.

Regardless, Oliver needed her. He had to. He’d just dropped a bomb on the world and she needed to clean up the debris if she could. Then see him, hold him, tell him she didn’t leave because she didn’t love him, but because of how damned much she did. He had to know…

Damn it, he knew. Didn’t he?

“You know, you’ll never fit it all,” she heard behind her.

She turned and found Alfred. She hadn’t even heard him come in, so distracted with thoughts of touching Oliver again. Oliver would say the same thing. She took the shirt she was holding and rolled it into a half-hearted ball. “I know. You’re supposed to roll it or something.” She’d listened to Oliver’s packing speech a few times now and, as much as she thought it was a waste of time to only get a few more inches of suitcase, she supposed he wouldn’t care how she packed if she came back to him. “Alfred, I have to go. I have to see him. I have to know if he’s okay.”

Alfred moved in and sat on the edge of her bed… or the one she’d been calling hers. “I can’t pretend I don’t know who you mean, considering where you’re from and the timing of… this,” he finished, gesturing to her bags. “But might I ask something?”

“Fine. Shoot,” she said, shoving the shirt in.

“What do you hope to accomplish?”

She stilled, rather surprised she didn’t have an answer to that. “I… need to… fix things?”

“Fair enough. How?”

“Well, I’ll just…” What? “I’ll contain things.”

“Oh, definitely. A woman who’s been wiped out of existence showing up just now. That certainly won’t shed any light on what secrets are left hidden. Well done.”

She huffed loudly and turned to him. “And what am I supposed to do?”

“I don’t have the answers. I know you yanks seem to think this accent carries some hidden wisdom, but it’s just an accent, not an answer.”

She stared at him. She waited. She knew, by now, that he wasn’t finished.

“But it seems to me,” he went on, “that you came here to prepare for something. Was this it? Dealing with the press? Seems so trivial.”

It did. She almost hated that he’d pointed it out.

“Such a small reason to undo all the effort you did in undoing… well, your very existence, it seems.”

He was right, damn him. This wasn’t a reason to go home. “Alfred, I saw things,” she whispered. “I saw such beautiful and terrible things and… I need to know how I fit in.” She dropped the clothes she now knew she wasn’t going to take away. “There’s this great destiny and it’s just… It’s there, as if it’s always been planned out for everyone but me. Why... why am I here?”

“Well, I’ll tell you one thing. As much as I like to see him working with others, it’s not for Master Wayne. He forges his own path and he always has. You’re not here for him. It’s for you.”

“Me? I’m… I’m no one.”

He shook his head. “Isn’t that a horrible thing to say?”

“I don’t mean…” She took a deep breath. “When you keep secrets for someone… something bigger than you, it’s hard to…” She took another breath, feeling like she was actually denigrating him with every word against herself. “It’s hard to know who you are, if you matter, when next to that. Because what have I done?”

Alfred stood and took her by the shoulders. “You’ve kept the home fires burning. And that matters. You have to believe it does. You are a beacon, a light, a…”

“A watchtower,” she finished on a sob.

He nodded. “If you like. But believe me when I say that I’m not telling you to stay for any other reason but this… You aren’t ready to leave.” He smiled. “As for Master Wayne, I rather suspect he likes having a protégé, but I doubt you’re the one. You are something more, something different. You are… Well, what are you?”

“I don’t know. A helper, a sidekick.”

He shook his head. “There’s more to you than that. You have something more inside you.”

“The truth,” she answered, wondering why she said that.

“What truth is that?”

“Well… I don’t know,” she said, swiping at her eyes. “I wanted to be a journalist. I used to think I’d be exposing these heroes, exposing their existence like some kind of ‘told you so’ to the world. I’d tell the truth. I never thought I’d be part of the lie.”

“Lies, truth… You and I both understand there’s more to right and wrong than that.” He smiled. “A journalist, hmm?”

She shook her head. “Not for a long… Let’s just say it’s a dream that died.”

“So you no longer wanted it?”

She opened and closed her mouth several times. “There were circumstances and I was fired and…” She shrugged and pasted on a smile. “And I’m done with it.”

“So you weren’t good at it.”

Her eyes narrowed. “No. I was… I didn’t want to be…”

“You said you were sacked.”

Yes. By Lex Luthor. Like that meant anything. “Well, it wasn’t because I was bad at it. If anything, the owner was corrupt and…”

“Oh, then I’m sure you applied to other publications. It’s a shame none of them took you on.”

“I didn’t apply to any,” she said hotly. “I was done and my dreams were…”

“Crushed, I suppose. After just one rejection. Must not have been much of a dream, then.”

She just stared at him, unable to answer that. When Lex had fired her, she’d thrown herself into helping heroes to the exclusion of all else. It wasn’t until right now that she doubted that decision.

“I can’t tell you what to do,” Alfred finally said, “But, from one faithful servant to another, there’s always more to us than what we do for them. I’ve lived long enough to know who I am, where I belong, but you… You’ve barely started.”

CHAPTER FOUR