Subtraction Time (Chapter Eight)

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PREVIOUS CHAPTER

FINALLY got back to this. 

So sorry about the wait. I’ve been sick, busy, and vacationing in turns and it was just hard to get a clear head, let alone the time to sit down and write.

Now going into what Chloe was up to during Patriot and Luthor. You might have noticed the dates I set for the events are much later than the airdates. It’s just the timeline I worked out based on the Thanksgiving episode being so damned early. That’s just how I figured things would work out.
Chapter Eight

November, 2011

Bruce stepped toward her. “Chloe?”

Oliver turned to her. “You know this guy?”

She faced Oliver. “I might have… trained with him a little.”

Oliver shook his head. “What?”

“Just a little bit. Just some hand to hand and mat work and…”

“WHAT?”

“I didn’t want to tell you and have you make a big deal out of it or send me to recruit him. Speaking of that…” She whirled on Bruce. “I’m not sending them after you, so stop with the angry messages.”

Oliver was still shaking his head. “He leaves messages for you?” 

“So it’s just a coincidence,” Bruce growled, “that every night I’ve got one of your friends hounding me like a telemarketer. If you’re thinking they can wear me down…”

“I have nothing to do with that. I haven’t said a word. I know how you are about your precious solitude,” she sneered.

“You know how he is?” Oliver was staring between the two of them.

“I’ve been telling them,” Chloe went on, “to give you space and wait for you to come around. It’s not my fault no one listens to me.”

“There is no coming around! I work alone!” he growled, so loudly this time it nearly hurt her throat to hear it.

“God! You’re like a broken record.”

“And your friends are like…”

“Hey, don’t you tell me about my friends. You refuse to get to know them. And you know what? I’m getting a little sick of your stubbornness.”

“This isn’t stub…”

“I can see you being annoyed about the civilians stealing your shtick.” She pointed at Oliver. “But this man is a genuine, storied, established superhero who holds his own with the two most powerful beings in the known universe…”

“Uh… This man would like to get some answers,” Oliver piped up.

“Sweetie, I’ve got this,” she said, waving him off. “If you don’t want to work with them, then it’s your loss.”

“I guess it has to be, then,” Bruce rasped. 

“Oh, shut up and take a cough drop,” she said with annoyance.

“How about the both of you shut up and let me talk?” Oliver said, stepping between them before turning to Chloe. “You said you trained with the Suicide Squad and...”

“Well, I did! I trained pretty damned hard. But first, I ran into this…”

“The Suicide Squad?” Bruce cut in. “You’re with them, too?”

“I’m not with them now. I was just… very briefly with them last year,” she finished lamely.

December 7th, 2010

Chloe groaned and massaged her shoulder, hoping, though doubting, that would bring feeling back into her arm. “Seven out of ten,” she panted, turning to face Floyd, also known as Deadshot, also known as the worst thing to happen to her since Miss Traeger, her eighth grade gym teacher. “That’s better, so… Break time?”

“Again,” he grunted, resetting the targets. 

“Come on! If this was school, that would be a passing grade. At least give me a little recess.”

He stared at her for a moment and she almost thought he was considering it until he only stepped behind her. “Again.”

“Yeah, you better step out of my line of fire,” she muttered as she secured her goggles.

“Stop talking and shoot.”

She lifted her arm, kind of wishing she’d done more stuff like this back home. Training with the gang would have been almost fun compared to this. Bart alone could have kept her laughing through the pain. But there was no laughter in these people. She’d been thinking they must joke around plenty among themselves and maybe they were just toning it down around her, out of resentment for her curbing their explosive fun. But she’d watched them by now. There was, apparently, no joking at all in The Suicide Squad.

She hit the first. “A kewpie doll for the lady,” she said loudly.

“I said stop talking,” Floyd growled.

“Seriously?” She hit the second. “All of you are so dour.” And the third. “Don’t you guys ever want to break the tension?” But not the fourth. Damn it 

“I don’t get tense,” he said as he moved to reset the targets again.

“Come on. It’s tough work saving the world.” She set down her gun and tried to get the life back into her hand. The constant recoil was making her numb.

“I’m not saving the world. I’m just getting paid. Probably not enough for this.”

She resisted the urge to mimic him as he stepped back behind her. She was getting loopy, surrounded by all these sour faces, day after day. She’d thought training with Bruce was hard, but at least they had a few laughs.

“Again.”

“Okay. But if I finish this course, I demand a reward.”

“And you’ll get it. We can move on to moving targets.”

She lowered her gun. “God, you’re really the worst…”

She didn’t get to finish because LaSalle popped up so suddenly, she was glad she’d put her weapon down. “Flag wants to see you.”

“Wonderful,” she sighed as he disappeared. “Never thought I’d say that.” She nodded at Floyd as she passed, pulling off her goggles. “Miss Traeger.”

When she made it to the control room, Flag seemed to be even less cheery than usual. “What’s going on?”

“Oh, nothing,” he said as he moved from screen to screen. “It just seems your little boyfriend and his buddy, The Blur, have either destroyed or disabled my tracking devices. I can’t get a location on either of them.”

She smiled. “Good.”

“You wouldn’t say that if you’d seen this.” He pulled up a file, then gestured to the big screen monitor.

She let out a gasp as she saw Oliver, that and some old guy behind a podium, but mostly Oliver in front of an oversized flag and wearing that dark, grayish green suit that she’d once told him was almost like giving out hints to his identity. She supposed that didn’t matter now, as he’d laid it bare to the world. Was that what this was about? More announcements? And why was he standing next to this old, military type? She tore her eyes off him and forced herself to pay attention to what the older man was saying. 

“… a new partnership. There will no longer be law and outlaw.”

“That’s General Slade Wilson,” Flag said over the man. “You might call him The Suicide Squad’s most wanted.”

She waved him off. “I’m trying to listen!”

“…united, working toward one goal -- the common good.“ He held up a piece of paper and ceremoniously held out his hand. Oliver took it, shaking it and smiling, somewhat queasily, for the flashing cameras. ”Oliver Queen's registration marks a new day for this country.”

“Wait, no,” she breathed. “Oliver…”

“And the end of vigilantes working outside the law,” he finished. It all sounded very admirable, but she couldn’t shake the horrified helplessness as he left Oliver standing at the podium, a feeling that grew as two men escorted Oliver to an elevator. 

“Where are they taking him,” she said, moving toward the screen as she watched it close, as if she could somehow reach in and stop the doors.

“We don’t know for sure. We would if he’d left his tracking device alone and…”

“Would you stop whining about that and tell me what you do know?” she demanded.

“Fine. We have a lead. I’ve been tracking another one. Arthur Curry, codename…”

“Aquaman,” she finished, advancing on him. “Just how many heroes have you tagged?”

“As many as we could get. Though we didn’t get your little friend…”

“Raven is not active and she’s underaged,” Chloe said hotly, “as I’ve already told you. You leave her alone!”

“Calm down. We didn’t tag her… or anyone in Gotham,” he finished on an annoyed growl.

So he didn’t get Bruce. But Diana… “And what about DC?”

His eyes narrowed. “So she’s in your little gang, too?”

“No,” Chloe said quickly. “She’s not affiliated with any group. But I know about her.”

“How much?”

“Enough to know you couldn’t tag her like a rhino if you tried and that she wouldn’t get behind your methods, so… Good,” she finished.

“You keep saying that. But we’re the only protection they have against the government. My trackers are…”

“I don’t want to keep arguing about your barbaric trackers,” she cut in. “What lead has Aquaman given you?”

“Let’s just say we aren't the only firebugs. An oil rig in the Atlantic exploded just this morning. Guess who was on board just before?”

“AC? Blowing up an oil rig?” She shook her head furiously. “That’s not his style. There's no way..."

"It wasn't an oil rig. It was a holding vessel for heroes and the government is building others like it around the country. It wasn't staffed at the time. No fatalities. Still, we'd have saved him the trouble if you'd let the hell up."

“No.”

“So it’s fine when your friends do it?”

“You just said it wasn’t staffed and there were no fatalities. That’s the kind of precautions my friends take. Can you say the same thing about yours?”

Flag slapped the table. “What? Are you taking our toys away until we learn?”

“If you want to put it that way, then fine. Now, get on with it!”

He growled softly, but brought up a map. “We’ve been tracking Curry for leads on facilities. He seems to have some special intel on anything ocean-related.” 

Chloe nearly smiled as she wondered what Flag would say if she told him it was AC’s special intel likely came from conversations with dolphins. 

Flag scrolled to another map. “This one in Alaska has been sucking on the power grid, so it looks like it’s up and running.”

“So you think that’s where Oliver is?”

“It looks like our mark, more so the longer your watery friend's in it.”

She sighed and threw up her hands. “So what do you want me to tell you? That you can blow it up? If there's any possibility Oliver's in there...”

“No. Not right away. I say we gather every squad member, even the trainees, and storm it. We extract Arrow and Aquaman, then destroy it to show we mean...”

“No,” she cut in, surprised to hear herself say it.

“No? This is the man you claim to love! I thought you’d…”

“This isn’t it,” she said softly, almost to herself, then looked up at Flag. “Aquaman is on him. If I know The Blur, he is, too. So… No. We stand down.”

He jabbed a finger at her. “You’re going to regret this if…”

“He’s going to be okay. They’ll save him.” She took a deep breath. “I know it.”

“How do you know?”

“I can’t explain.” The visions from Fate’s Helmet were still little more than a blurry montage. They still told her nothing solid about what to do. All she had to go on was her gut. And it told her that this wasn’t it. This wasn’t why she was here. Somehow, she even felt that her being here to stop them was all part of the plan. “There’s going to be a time when we… storm the fortresses, but this isn’t it.” She turned back to the big screen, rewinding the footage to where Oliver stood behind that podium alone, eyes so wary, smile so tense. She didn’t know why he’d signed up and she knew it was the worst idea in the world. Whatever he was going through... “It all feeds into something bigger,” she whispered at the frozen screen. “There’s a reason for everything. And we’re going to save everyone.” She turned back to Flag. “But this isn’t where we come in.”

November, 2011

“The Suicide Squad?” Bruce growled. “So that’s who you ran off to?”

“Hey, you’ll get your turn, Zorro!” Oliver turned back to Chloe. “All this time, you couldn’t even mention…”

“No. I couldn’t,” Chloe sighed. “I wasn’t given leave to because Batman here,” she moved past him to Bruce, “likes to refuse all help.”

“Because I don’t need…”

“And he’s ridiculously protective of his privacy, which leaves the press floundering to find a motive and the people questioning whether he’s good or…”

“If I’m not feared, I have no power over the criminal element.”

“I’m not talking about the criminal element,” she said wearily. “I’m talking about public opinion. Oh! But I’m glad the press is losing the the, by the way. It really felt too clunky for everyday use and…”

“Chloe!”

She turned back to Oliver. “Yeah?” She gave a nervous smile at the thin line of his mouth. “Honey?”

“I’m still waiting for an explanation,” he said tightly.

“She just gave it to you,” Bruce rasped. “I like my privacy. I like to work alone. And I trained her just fine… then she had to run off with a bunch of terrorists to…”

“That’s not how it was,” Chloe broke in. 

“How was it? If this is the kind of group you all align with…”

“I got involved with the Squad very briefly, but only to stop their reign of pyromania, train for survival. And rescue my friends from a shady government organization,” she said quickly. “I am no longer involved with them.”

“Then why are they hounding me?”

Her eyes widened. “They are?”

Bruce groaned and looked off as distant sirens rang out. “I don’t have time for this and I don’t have time for you,” he said, eyes hard on Oliver. “Can everyone just leave me alone?”

Chloe glanced at Oliver. “See? I told you. He’s going to keep…” She trailed off as she turned back to Bruce. “He’s gone.”

“Yeah. I see that.” Oliver frowned after him.

“Okay, then. That’s over with.” Chloe turned off the signal, then rubbed her hands together with a smile. “Dinner?”

December 15th, 2010

Christmas dinner would probably be rice and beans, Chloe thought as she lashed her right arm outward, but all she hit was air, nearly losing her balance – but only nearly. She righted herself as he appeared again, to her left this time and ran at him, stopping only to kick, but missed again, landing on the floor this time. But she bounded upward quickly, ready to face her assailant again… wherever he appeared. 

It was exhausting, but not nearly as much as she wished. “I hate this,” she rasped as he appeared behind her.

“If you like it, then I am making it wrong,” she heard, though she couldn’t figure out from where.

“Doing it wrong,” she corrected. “And I wasn’t talking about you.” Though LaSalle was the worst. Popping in and out, always a snide remark. “Would you just get on with it?”

She felt him behind her and he nearly got both her arms before she twisted, jabbing her fist at his neck – not hard, but enough to acknowledge it was a hit. 

LaSalle nodded. “You know, that would slow me down only the smallest amount. You should have gone for the eye. You are not here. You are thinking of your friends in Littletown.”

“Smallville.” And he knew it, the smug French bastard.

“Of course. Small. Like all these tiny, American villages. Just small people with small minds and…”

“Could you just shut up and pop out?” 

And she wasn’t in Smallville. Not even in her mind. How could she be? There had been no news from Smallville or Metropolis in more than a week. Considering what was going on, no news was probably good news, as the saying went. But she couldn’t stand it. Sometimes she nearly wished Clark and Oliver hadn’t somehow disabled Flag’s disgusting, zoo tags. She could at least watch their dots move.

She couldn’t even have that! And it was ten days to Christmas!

Maybe that was what had her so frustrated. She never thought she’d be spending the holidays like this, surrounded by people she barely tolerated, who barely tolerated her. It didn’t help that everyone was on edge. 

Flag was frustrated that all facilities seemed inactive. She’d ventured to hope that the government had mothballed the secret facilities after two were destroyed last week, but something told her that meant they were just coming up with newer, more horrifying ways to mess with the hero set.

Adding to her frustration was the press. She’d kept her eye on The Daily Planet as well as other big city publications. Some reporters took a balanced approach, some a sensationalist, but between the lines, she could see that public opinion toward vigilantes was falling further than ever. Even The Planet’s latest headline declared “The Blur Saves Under Scrutiny.”

Somehow, she thought all of that would be easier to take if she was anywhere but here. Sometimes, she thought about asking to get away, at least for that day. She'd spend it with her father, maybe Lana and Diana, too. Or maybe she could ask Rachel to take her to Bruce and Alfred. But no. She wouldn’t even ask. Everyone was on high alert. Because old sayings weren’t always right. No news wasn’t good news. 

No news could mean something worse was lying in wait.

November, 2011

“It wasn’t a lie,” Chloe said for what felt like the millionth time. “It was a deliberate omission.”

“There’s a difference?” Oliver shot a grappling hook to a higher roof and tugged on it before gripping her waist. “You know, in case you missed it, we’re married now and married people are supposed to tell each other…”

“Not everything,” she cut in as he swung them around the building and towards the hotel. “Not things that aren’t theirs to tell,” she finished as he landed them on the ledge.

“Well, you told me all about Wonder Woman, no problem.”

“Yes, but she wanted to be part of things. She even gave me leave to feel you guys out on her joining up. But he’s just…” She gestured vaguely to the police station beyond. “Well, you know how he is.”

“No. I don’t. I don’t even know who he is.” He pulled his line and shot again, aiming for the hotel. “But I guess you do since you spent all this time rolling around with him.”

“Rolling around?”

“Hand to hand? Mat work?”

“You can’t believe I…”

“Not you. But am I supposed to believe this guy was wrestling around with my girlfriend and never copped a feel?”

“Yes! Jesus, Oliver! You might as well say that about the Squad.”

“Pfft! They’re a bunch of ugly bastards.”

“Batman could be, too, for all you know.”

He turned to her, looking rather hopeful. “Is he?”

“No,” she sighed. 

He scowled and gripped her, swinging them to the hotel’s ledge. “Oh, good.”

“Well, I’m trying to be honest,” she pointed out when they landed just above their window. “I mean, now that you know.”

“What do I know Chloe?” He handed her into the window before swinging in himself. “You barely talk about your time away.”

“Because I hated it! I hated wandering around lost, wondering when I could come home, if ever! I hated every second with the squad, I hated every second I had to be away from you!” She pushed at his chest. “You jerk!”

His eyes softened just a little as he gripped her hands. “You’re not just saying that?”

“No.” She shrugged, tried not to smile. “You really are a jerk sometimes.”

“Oh, come here,” he groaned before pulling her in.

CHAPTER NINE