Subtraction Time (Chapter Nine)

PREVIOUS CHAPTER

I am so sorry it's taken me more than a month to come back. December is just my busy season and I didn't end up with much time to write. 

But things have settled down now and I am smack in the middle of the deadest month of the year, work-wise. But that's a good thing. I should have more time to write.

Now for Chloe’s side of Icarus, then going into Collateral. Obviously, she was heavily in it, so I don’t actually need to go into all of it to see her side, but there were a few moments where I wanted to explore her perspective to make sense of some things the Suicide Squad did.

Chapter Nine

November, 2011

They made their way to the bedroom, bumping into tables and practically falling over suitcases, all ideas of dinner forgotten. It was always this way, the minute he kissed her. Everything fell away into pure sensation…

“So the squad,” he breathed against her neck.

Or maybe that was just her.

“You hated it?”

Did he seriously want to talk now? She groaned and bared her neck, blindly unzipping his vest as she pulled him to the bed. “Hated every second. I didn’t like talking about that time then,” she panted. “And it’s the last thing I want to do now. Oliver…”

“I know.” He grinned and rose over her. “I mean, I get not enjoying hanging around with them, but the time with Batman…”

“Oliver!” She pushed him off, sitting up. “I knew you weren’t going to let it go. I don’t want to talk about that, either. In fact, I just told you that I can’t…”

“You know, I might want to point out,” he hopped off the bed, “that I have pretty much no secrets from you…”

“It wasn’t mine to tell. It still isn’t and I won’t…” She stood as well. “See, this is what I’ve been trying to tell you and Clark when you kept chasing after him. I know him and…”

“How well?”

“And he’ll just dig in his heels harder. He needs to come around to things in his own time and…”

“Seriously, how well do you know this guy?”

Chloe folded her arms. “Please don’t tell me you’re jealous. I just told you…”

“Well, I’m just looking at the timeline here.” Oliver paced in front of her. “So Lois and the general get targeted on Thanksgiving and you blackmail The Squad, so that leaves… that’s about three months of you rolling around with the dark prince…”

“They actually call him the Dark Knight,” she cut in. 

“Oh, whatever!”

“And I also trained with Diana. I don’t see you getting upset about that.”

“Maybe I will. Give me a minute,” he grumbled, then shook his head. “It’s just the idea of it. The thing is that I trust you when you say nothing happened, but him…” He gestured to the window. “How do I trust him, whoever he is?”

“Nothing did happen!” she groaned loudly. “And B… Batman,” she finished awkwardly, stopping herself from saying Bruce. “Had a little something else going on at the time with another woman and…” Damn it! Had she already said too much? “Ugh! Why are we not dropping this? Nothing happened!”

“Well, something always happened when I tried to take you to the mat,” he said, just a little petulantly.

“That’s because it’s you. With him, I could concentrate on balance and breathing and reflexes. With you, everything goes away. You touch me and I… I can’t help but want you to touch me… more,” she finished on a breath, meeting his eyes. 

He held her gaze. “Well, I was only… trying to train you up. I mean, I…”

“I know. Maybe it was my fault,” she cut in. “Just couldn’t keep my hands off you.”

He nodded. “Yeah. I guess it was. You were insatiable with all your… wiles.”

She narrowed her eyes. “I don’t know how you put up with it.”

He sighed and shook his head. “Well, I helped you out. You were just so powerfully attracted to me, I thought, if we got all that out of the way, you’d finally settle down and wrestle me in a nonsexual way, but you could not be discouraged and here we are.”

She smiled sweetly. “You poor man. You know, Christmas is coming. Maybe I should get us separate bedrooms. Give you a little break.”

He chuckled. “Okay, okay. Let’s give in before it stops being funny.”

“No. I mean it. When we get home, I could take that so-called duchess chamber. It’s a big house. It’ll be like in the olden days and we can make a little game of it.” She clapped her hands as she moved out of the bedroom. “You can knock on my door for permission to land and I can decide if I’m in the mood or not and…”

“Ha, ha!” He caught her arm and hauled her back against him. “I don’t think we’ll be doing that.”

“Keep testing me,” she muttered.

He dipped his head to her neck. “Besides, I already told you what I want for Christmas.”

December 22nd, 2010 

"A christmas card?"

"Yes."

"So we train you," Flag drawled, pacing behind her in the postal annex on the outskirts of Reno, "stop all of our work at your blackmail, lie in wait for your mysterious fate helmet gut feelings and what is the really important thing you need to do today? Mail a Christmas card."

"Yes," Chloe hissed. "Now leave me alone. I have to concentrate." She finally picked a plain white one with a red flowered border. She didn’t want it to be too Christmassy and just end up tossed in a pile with other cards, never to be opened, after all. She’d lived with Lois long enough to know that Christmas cards were usually just a brightly colored pile until about mid-January.

It wasn't just the card that was important, it was what was in it. She held up the charm necklace, trying to think of how to explain it so Lois would hold onto it. It wasn't important in and of itself. It was just something she'd picked up one afternoon at The Metropolis Galleria because it was cute. 

She’d had it on her when she left and it somehow ended up being the only piece of her old self she’d had in this exile, though she never wore it. She’d long since disposed of the clothes she’d worn, but she’d held onto this. Something had told her to. It had spent the last months tossed in the bottom of various suitcases as she hadn't been much for wearing jewelry lately. She wondered if Lois would appreciate it, having this piece of her, if she’d even wear it. Chloe would have to bank on it because it had a purpose beyond sentiment.

She examined the larger coin, turning away from Flag as she did so, closing her hands on it and feeling the barely noticeable hum from inside. It was more than just a necklace. It was a fail-safe. Flag may still be tracking some of her friends, even with Oliver and Clark disabling their devices, but there was one more person she needed to keep an eye on. She didn’t want Lois to get lost in the shuffle. 

Of course, she didn’t want to tell Flag that she was trying to track her cousin. She’d probably never hear the end of it. She dropped the necklace in.

“Are you done yet?”

“No. I have to write the card.” Just because this gift was practical didn’t mean it had to be impersonal. It was Christmas and Lois was family. And sometimes she worried that Lois, even after their last conversation, was still insecure about her happy ending…

"Chloe, what really happened between Clark and Lana?"

She stilled, knowing this would take way more time than she had and involve many things she had no right to share.

"She couldn't make the sacrifices he needed, could she?"

Chloe found her eyes filling again, but she smiled. She'd had an inkling, in all those whirling visions of Nabu, that Lois would know. That someday when the truth came out, the one she was always saying would make up for all the lies? She had a feeling that someday had started somehow. Lois had been cagey, even in this short conversation, and that last question had been nothing if not pointed. She blinked back the tears because she really hated to miss it, but kept her smile as she turned. "Let's just say Lana was not the one fated to be in Clark's life."

She might not know what was in store for herself, but Lois… She didn’t want Lois to be in any doubt. She took a deep breath and wrote.

Lois,

They say you never know what fate has in store for us, but I say you can see some happy endings coming from a mile away.

She stopped, tapping the pen against her chin. Was this a mistake? Was she spoiling the surprise?

She knew it would happen, just not when. Those visions from Fate… they were clear in some moments and hazy in others. But last night, her dream had been unmistakably clear…

Lois surrounded in falling petals, Clark on one knee, Christmas lights twinkling all around…

Had it happened yet? Whether it had or not, something told her there was no spoiling it. They were so happy. They would be so happy in the future if she could just stay on track. She let out a slight sob and quickly covered it with a cough with Flag stll a foot away. 

For the big day, here’s something borrowed. I’m there in spirit.
Love,
Chloe

She wanted to let herself cry, Flag be damned. It was something to cry over, after all. Here was her closest relative, the one who arguably knew her better than her own father… And what was she doing about her engagement? Sending a necklace and a note, so afraid that would be it. Would this ever be over? Would she seriously be forced to miss Lois marrying the man that she’d once called her best friend?

She truly hoped not. 

She pulled an overnight envelope to her on the counter before sealing up her card, writing Lois’ name on the front. “Soon.” She’d be home soon. She didn’t know if she meant a month or a decade, but it felt better than calling it someday. “Soon, now,” she whispered. 

November, 2011

Soon. Not now, but soon. She knew exactly what Ollie wanted for Christmas. It involved unprotected sex at odd times of the day and maybe her recording her basal temperature and marking off days on a calendar. 

But she hadn’t tossed out her little pink pill sorter… yet. “Ollie…”

“That house is big -- too damned big for just the two of us,” he murmured, almost too convincingly, considering his lips were moving to her ear.

“There’s just too much going on,” she moaned, though she did stretch her neck to give him better access.

“There always will be.”

She laughed as his stubble tickled her neck. “Don’t we already have a whole gang of teenagers in our life?”

“But they’re not nearly cute enough.”

“Well, they’re enough to deal with for now.” She turned to face him, looping her arms around his neck. “Besides, I feel like we’ve hardly had time in that house alone. We never had a honeymoon, always running back and forth to Metropolis and now we’re in Gotham and…” She sighed and stroked his neck. “I just want to know what it’s like to be with just you in our home… maybe for a whole week at a time.”

“A whole week?” He breathed out a laugh. “That’s a tall order.”

“Well, you’re a tall man so I figured you could handle it.”

“Fine. Subject change noted.” He smiled and dropped a kiss on her lips. “We’ll table this for now. Dinner?”

She shook her head. “I’m not hungry.”

He smirked and leaned in. “See? I don’t know how I put up with you. Insatiable woman…”

“Wait.” She stilled. “Is this the one with the burgers with blue cheese crumbles?” They’d been in and out of so many hotels these last months. She was pretty sure just breathing Gotham air reminded her of that one. “Because I might be hungry for that.”

He laughed mirthlessly and pulled away. “I’ll check.”

While he did that, she checked her text messages. Her phone had vibrated several times in her pocket this last half-hour and, while it might have seemed delightful while Oliver was doing all that fondling, she really should see what was going on. 

She tossed it quickly to the bed when she saw the text messages from Bruce… and all from a blocked number so she had no way to text back that she wasn’t sending her friends after him, she wasn’tinvolved with terrorists and she didn’t have any superstitious, antiquated ideas about hell and demons and…

“Demons?”

Had she read that last message right?

She rushed to pick up her cell again.

December 27th, 2010 

Chloe watched the grainy cell footage on the large screen with growing horror. People surrounding Oliver, hitting him…

”Those on the scene say the fight broke out after Queen tackled an innocent man to the ground,” The blonde anchor said. ”According to witnesses, Queen was only deterred from further assault when citizens came to the unidentified man’s aid.”

It didn’t look like Oliver was the one doing the assaulting to her.

“We could have stopped this,” Flag growled.

“Shhh!” 

“Witnesses claim Oliver Queen and other vigilantes led an unprovoked attack against people attempting a citizens' arrest. Queen's disappearance has sparked a citywide manhunt. A spokeswoman for the VRA…”

“I don’t think we need to hear what they have to say about this,” Flag snapped, turning off the screen. “Chloe, we could have stopped this, but we didn’t. But if we act now…”

“We can’t act now,” she cut in, trying to get her shaking hands under control. If there was ever a time she was tempted to run back to Metropolis, it was now, seeing Oliver brutalized…

“Then maybe you should know they detained Mercer, Hamilton…”

“It doesn’t matter. This isn’t where we…”

“They are narrowing in on your group right this second. And now Slade’s riling up the public…” He turned on another screen and Slade Wilson’s voice filled the room, as well as his face, a metallic patch covering one eye. 

“Like so many of you, I am a victim of a vigilante attack. And while I was lucky enough to survive the explosion caused by Oliver Queen, it came at a cost. Too many civilians have been left feeling unsafe in their own homes. Too many people have suffered while too few vigilantes have been brought to justice. It's time these terrorists paid for their crimes.”

Flag snapped it off angrily. “We could have taken care of him, but you…”

“Public sentiment would have turned against…”

“Public sentiment is turning even without us and our barbaric methods,” Flag sneered. “So I say we act now. We destroy all VRA run facilities. I have three that…”

“Yes. And who’ll get the blame? Not you,” Chloe said hotly. “You’ll be safe out here while my friends will have to go into hiding for the rest of their lives!”

“They’re already in hiding! And they will be found if we don’t stop this!”

“By blowing things up? Killing people?”

“I wouldn’t weep for the VRA crowd,” Flag said with soft menace. “They wouldn’t weep for you.”

“I don’t care,” Chloe said, trying to keep her tone even. “I don’t want people hurt.” She turned away and started out.

“Does that include your cousin?”

She stopped, turning back to Flag.

“I mean, she’s the reason you stormed the fortress here and stalled my entire operation. But I guess you don’t care.”

“Stop sniping and tell me what happened,” she said tiredly.

“Our sources say she’s been taken in along with Mercer and Hamilton. You ever been interrogated by the government? Not all of the interviewers play nice.”

She shook her head. “She won’t be hurt. I know it. I’ve seen…”

“Yes, these mysterious visions. There’s no timeline, though. You don’t know how many scars she’ll get before they heal.”

“I’ve taken care of Lois,” she said, moving to the main console. She pulled out a flash drive and plugged it in. “Wherever she is, I can find her.” 

“So you’ve been tracking her. I thought that was cruel and…”

“I didn’t inject it under her skin without her knowledge before sending her off into the wild.” She enhanced the map until she found that red dot. “She’s at The Daily Planet.”

“With the government watching her every…”

“She’s safe. That’s all I need to know.” She stepped away from the screen. “When it’s time, we’ll…”

“When it’s time… Is this ****ing time ever going to come?” Flag yelled.

“Don’t you think I wish it was time now?” Chloe snapped back? “Do you think I like being here with you when I could be with them? With him?” She angrily swiped at her eyes. “It’s not time yet. I’ll know when it is,” she finished dully before walking out.

Later that night, after punishing sessions with LaSalle, her dreams were vivid…

Lois knocked to the floor… Hawkman bursting through a window… a stab… an explosion… Lois falling, Hawkman following, wings aflame… Lois walking with Clark, Bart, Victor, Arthur, Dinah, Courtney Oliver… all in slow procession with a pallet… Courtney placing his mace and mask ceremoniously near another pair -- slighter, more feminine… Lois staring at the packed sand floor as a white pyramid rose up, glowing and… 

She woke up gasping. It was all too vivid – too much so to be a dream. She stumbled, still shaking the vision off, out of the barracks and down the dark hall to the already lit control room.

That vision… it was still coming to her, even awake…

Medical airlifts, men in uniform, a woman directing them, her eyes hard and cold…

Flag was still awake. He turned as she came in, some harsh remark obviously prepared.

“No time for that,” she panted. “Carter Hall…”

“His tracker went out,” he said, moving from screen to screen. “Something tells me he didn’t dig it out like your boyfriend and The Blur. He had no way of knowing we were tracking him. Bette was positive…”

“He’s dead,” she cut in dully. “Slade did it. And it’s time.”

Flag stilled, staring at her. Then threw up his hands. “That’s great. Now it’s time? Now that it’s too late to save him…”

“It’s not him we’re supposed to save. His time was up and he’ll come back again and…” She took a shaky breath. “Listen, I can’t explain how Fate’s helmet works, but it hasn’t led me wrong so far. Everything has been leading us here. It’s coming together and I saw…” She shook her head. “They were being taken. How many trackers do you have left?”

Flag grunted and moved to the console. “Obviously, your little friends whispered to a few others. But I’ve still got Black Canary in a… some kind of warehouse in Kansas, just outside Topeka.”

“And I’ve got Lois,” she cut in, pulling her flash drive from her pocket. She plugged in and Lois’ dot lit up. “She’s in the same place. They must have grabbed her with the others.” She frowned. “I kept hoping she’d be left out of all this. No powers. But I guess I know best. That doesn’t mean you don’t get targeted right with them.” Somehow, she’d still hoped Lois’ life would be different, safer… She shook her head and pulled a keyboard to her. There was no time to indulge in hopes. “I just don’t understand how they’re being subdued,” she said, typing in code furiously. “We have individuals with backgrounds all over the map, powers all over the spectrum. How can one method take them all out and keep them…” She let out a harsh breath as the map expanded. “Yeah. That might be one way.”

“What?” Flag grunted.

“I’m not sure, but I’ve got a mainframe the size of a city block here.” She turned to Flag. “It’s right near where they’re being housed and…” She made sure to mask her presence as she hacked into the supposedly closed circuit security. “They’re being kept like storage,” she breathed, angry as the screens revealed rows of pods. “But the guards are light and the console is unmanned.” She shifted the screens. “It looks like they’re hooked into this mainframe, but they’re being controlled remotely. I think we have a shot at extracting them.” They had to. It was all leading to this, after all.

Was it insane that she was excited? She was going home. Maybe this wasn’t the ideal way, but when this was over…

Flag let out a low whistle behind her. “Well… I’m starting to see why Watchtower was considered a tactical asset.”

“Yes. I’m more than a pretty face,” she said drily. “Now I need to see what you can do.” 

November, 2011

“Oliver…”

“This is the one with the blue cheese burger,” he said, frowning.

“That’s great. But here’s the thing…”

“But it’s not the one with the brie and pot roast sandwich. That must have been Boston.”

“Remember how Batman said The Suicide Squad had been…”

“I ordered the prime rib, but I was kind of hoping…” He stopped. “What about Batman?”

Of course that got his attention. “He texted me and…”

“He texts you, too?”

“Will you stop harping on me and Batman and listen?” She held out her phone. “See, he thinks I’ve been sending you guys after him all this time.”

“Right,” Oliver groaned, taking the phone. “Because you were so forthcoming about…”

“And now he seems to think I’m a terrorist,” she said over him. “I need to explain a few things to him, I guess.”

“To him?” He grunted as he scrolled though her messages. “I think you could start with me… Hell? Demons?”

“He said The Squad was trying to recruit him and… I don’t know.” She frowned and paced away. “He tends to rant. Obviously, he needs to know I’m no longer affiliated with Flag and friends, but I need to know what he means by my antiquated ideas about Hell and demons. I don’t get it. It’s not something I’ve ever mentioned to him. I mean, there’s the whole Catholic thing, but I told him it was just a few years of parochial school when I lived in the city and that I don’t necessarily buy into the whole…”

“Chloe, aren’t you forgetting something… someone?”

“What?”

Oliver shook his head. “Hey, I’ve had my religious moments, but I don’t buy into the whole… judging thing, but…” He took a deep breath. “Raven.”

She stiffened. “What about her? I don’t think of her that way and…”

“Zatanna’s been saying for a year that her powers have demonic energy and maybe…”

“So? I don’t care what she says. I trust Rachel and…”

“I’m not saying she can’t be trusted. Just listen…” Oliver took her by the arms. “You yourself said Flag seemed awfully interested in Rachel, that we needed to train her with us before someone worse wanted her. What if they’re after more than Batman? What if the Suicide Squad wants Raven?”

She shook her head firmly. “Well, they can’t have her.”

December 28th 2010

“We can’t do it like this. Put him back under,” Chloe groaned, frustrated. Every time she tried to pull Clark out, his brainwaves spiked to panic levels. Even Clark was trapped. Honestly, she thought with his otherworldly constitution, he’d be the one she could pull out of this mind game. But no.

She suspected, in this case, he was as vulnerable as the others. Everyone was vulnerable deep enough in their subconscious. She glanced at the doors worridely. They’d tranqued the guards, put the security feed on loop, but that didn’t mean someone might not come by to patrol the area. This was precisely why she wanted the bulk of Flag’s gang to stay out of the way. If they could get all of them out of here without a violent scene… 

Of course, they were having trouble with that very thing. It was hard to uncuff the mind. She’d tried with Dinah, too, and there was only spiking BP and panic there, too. The panic could kill them. It wasn’t a matter of unhooking a few wires and pulling out some tubes. Just as she was thinking that, one of Flag’s medics was unhooking Oliver.

She rushed to him. “Wait! Don’t…”

Oliver started thrashing as the man pulled a tube from his nose, his eyes wide and scared. She held him down, almost hoping this was a momentary reaction, that he’d see her and come out of this. His eyes met hers and, for just a second, she thought it was possible. But his signals were dangerously high. She shook her head at the medic and he backed away. 

“We need to find another way to reach them,” she said, staring at Oliver sadly. She didn’t think this would be the way they’d meet again. She’d actually hoped for smiles, sunlight, a pretty dress. Maybe there was still time for that. She pulled his pod closed.

Flag growled, pacing. “We need to just take them, pods an all, and leave this helhole!”

“There’s no way that can happen. Whoever’s controlling this game will know and come after us and…”

“So? I have enough men to get us out. I can have a team here in seconds and we can shoot our way out of…”

“I told you, Flag. We do this my way. I don’t want any violence if it can be helped.” She stared at the console in the corner. “There is another way. I need to reach them from the inside.”

“And how do you do that?”

“Create an avatar, find a way out, bend the rules enough that they see it’s not real.” She turned to Flag, forcing a smile. “It’s just like an MMORPG. I’ve played those.” Not much as free time barely existed in her world, but she could grasp the concept… of free time. Maybe even of this. She exhaled as that dialogue box came up. She could do this…

November, 2011

“They can’t have her,” she said loudly, pacing away. “She’s only just eighteen and she has enough doubt about herself without dealing with them and their shady morals and…”

“I’m not saying they’ll get her,” Oliver said softly. “Just that they want her. They must want Batman, too.”

“They can’t have him, either!” But she wasn’t worried about Bruce. She knew he might talk a big game about striking fear in the hearts of the criminal element, but he had a code, the kind that kept him away from men like Flag. “Flag! Do you know what it did to me? Dealing with him? I don’t even care how much it helped, in the end. I couldn’t stand him and his haranguing and his bloodthirsty pyromaniac pals and… I’ll get him. I’ll track him down and tell him what I think of him harassing my friends. I’ll hack into his system, I’ll put the whole damned thing on ice and then…”

“You’ll stop and eat something,” Oliver said, gripping her by the shoulders to stop her pacing. “You’ll get a good night’s sleep. You’ll talk to Clark and Victor and the rest of the gang – maybe even me – before you do anything.”

“But I…”

“Say it. Say you won’t do anything crazy until most, if not all, of those things happen.”

She glowered at him. “I won’t do anything crazy. Because this is all perfectly sane if you…”

There was a knock at the door.

“See? Dinner’s here.” He rubbed her shoulders. “That’s the first step.”

December 29th, 2010

“It’s like a first date… I mean, not a first, exactly,”Lois said in a rush as she held dangling earrings in front of Chloe. “But it is a little. This is like a new life. On to happier things. You’re all done with this squad of yours. Right?”

“They’re not my squad but yes. I’m done.” She had brought her one paltry bag with her when she left and wasn’t about to go back to the desert complex any time soon… or ever. It wasn’t just that she wasn’t a fan of the heat. It was the company. As useful as Rick and pals had been, she wasn’t happy with them after last night.

There was gunfire. She’d heard it as Trotter’s men carted her off. Real gunfire and not the high-pitched zip of a tranq gun. Of course, by the time she heard that awful woman call out “Kill her,” she’d cared just a little less that the bullets zipping past her were real. The ones about to stab into her would be real enough.

But Deadshot saved her from those. Yet it wasn’t him she was most grateful to in that moment. It was Oliver, taking out that last guard in her path with nothing but a few punches. She’d had to smile, even while wishing Flag and his friends were more like hers. It was nice to be away from the morally gray, back with Clark… and Oliver.

“Are we sure this is a date?”

Lois gave her a withering glance. “Chloe, the man texted you to dress up. Also, you traded your life for him.” Lois rolled her eyes. “By the way, we’re going to have a long talk one of these days, about your extracurricular activities, but not right this second. Anyway, between the life-trading and the fact that the man has done nothing but get moony-eyed about you since you disappeared, this is a date.”

“I wanted to tell you,” Chloe said softly. “There were so many times, I thought that you, of all people, should know, but… I mean, you’re my closest family, but this was still mostly not mine to tell. Until Clark was ready…”

“Oh, you don’t have to go into Clark dragging his feet. I’ve known Clark long enough by now. And you know, he didn’t even tell me!” She rolled her eyes. “I mean, he did, but I’d already figured it out for myself by then.”

Chloe had to laugh. “It was about the same with me.”

“Well, that doesn’t completely let you off the hook, Missy. I mean, there’s meteor powers, supercomputers..” Lois waved a hand. “Whatever. We’ll talk. First, this date… And it is a date. Now will you try on this dress?” 

Chloe breathed deep as Watchtower's elevator ascended, smoothing damp palms on the long skirt of her dress... or Lois' dress. Oliver had texted her to meet him here, to dress up. The problem was that her old clothes were in a storage locker that wasn't open past six. And what she'd brought with her on this mission hadn't included anything remotely like a dress. Hell, the clothes she still had back in Gotham were, none of them, remotely like a dress. 

She had hardly been back to Gotham since she found it unavoidable to take up with Flagg and the Squad. Hence, she had Lois' dress, which Lois had done her best with, belting it before adding jewelry and doing her makeup, declaring she looked boho chic. But she felt like a kid dressing up and playing pretend. Not just because of the dress, which probably looked sexy as hell on Lois, but was baggy in all the wrong places on Chloe, but she wasn't sure whether she was just playing pretend now. She wasn't sure if she was truly present.

And that wasn't some leftover sense of unreality from her multiple leaps into a bad Matrix sequel. She wasn't sure if she was here, really here, or if this was some stolen leap into some other life, quickly over. That was just how she felt right now. And she let herself feel it. That was something she'd learned in her time away. She learned to shoot with dead accuracy, to fight with strength and stamina. But, more importantly, she learned to feel, to let herself feel things that weren't always clear or acceptable, to stop worrying about burying those feelings to make it easier to put on the face others expected. So many events and people had been a part of that. 

She'd found someone even more concerned than she about masking her feelings in getting to know Rachel, but with a selflessness and self-possession that made her feel like the younger party. She found someone who rivaled her in paranoia and obsessive work ethic in Bruce, but with a determination and single-mindedness in his work that made her feel like a distracted dabbler. She found someone as uber-focused with being rational and always stepping back to look at that greater good in Diana, but with a wisdom that seemed to span centuries. And there were others, always reflecting her strengths and failings back to her. Being part of that even wider world had shown her reflections of herself and she began to think, really think, of who she was. Not in the eyes of the people she'd known all her life. Not that girl who tried to be whatever it was anyone else needed. But who she was in this wider world with no history or identity to speak of, who she was underneath the many people she'd been.

Of course, answering that question had her exploring that history in her travels. It had her reconnecting with Lana, then Pete, though not the two together. She supposed that part of Nabu's visions was still down the line somehow. She'd tracked down her father and yelled and raged and cried in his arms. She'd spent the better part of a week in Oliver's home town, disguised in medical scrubs and cradling her mother's limp hand. 

And she wrote, pages and pages, filling two journals for every week once she got over that fear and she began to wonder what she'd been so afraid of. She supposed she hadn't stopped out of fear of Lex or even subsequent Luthor-like adversaries. It was that she worked so damned hard only for it to be taken away so easily. And that went into more than writing. That was her damned life. She was afraid to want things, to give voice to what she wanted, to go after it because... it could always be taken away.

And that fed into what she was afraid of now as the elevator opened on the intricate glass and wood doors she knew so well. Oliver was waiting behind them. And he was something she wanted. And desperately. And she was so afraid to walk through those doors and find she couldn't have him, one reason being that she still had no idea if she fit into that happy ever after she'd seen through Fate's helmet. But the other was she didn't know where she stood with him. 

Once out of that virtual world, they spoke, but it was the barest sentences, mostly consisting of words unsaid and feelings masked with the more pressing task at hand. She still got a read on some of his. And they were hot anger and barely-masked bitterness. Sure, they kissed. But she'd kissed him, really. And they barely got started before Flagg and Deadshot came in and followed her orders, causing Oliver to turn to her with betrayal in his eyes.

But he understood how it was now, didn't he? He wanted to see her, didn't he? Wanted to dress up? Couldn't that mean something... better?

She wasn't sure if it was longing or fear that was on top as she pushed open Watchtower's doors.

CHAPTER TEN

You might recognize that ending as part of the Epilogue from Action Time. I figured we’d caught up to it by then, so why not include some of it. More of that in the next…

Truth be told, I was thinking of getting there and then being done with flashbacks, but looking over the rest of season 10, there might be a few more “missing scenes” I wouldn’t mind putting pen to. So… more flashbacks to come, but not quite as many.