Stay (1/1)
Mar. 30th, 2011 04:06 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
lynzie914Title: Stay
Characters: Oliver, Chloe
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: Trust me when I say, I don’t own anything.
Warnings: Spoilers for Doomsday. Angst, my muse refuses to write anything but angst.
Summary: Oliver is the one to find her and take her home after everything has gone to hell. He doesn’t want to be that person, thinks she deserves to be with someone who knows how to comfort her, who knows how to make it better. But like it or not, he’s the only person she has.
Prompt: Why’d you have to wait, where were you, just a little late
Author’s Note: I realized that at some point, in my own head it just become canon for me that Oliver was the one to find Chloe after everything in Doomsday and that he was the one to take care of her, even though that’s something that was never touched on in the show. So for me this is more of a missing scene that kind of fills in some of the gaps between Jimmy’s death and his funeral, and offers an explanation of sorts of why Oliver didn’t disappear until after the funeral.
He guides her gently out of the elevator and over to his couch. She sits down automatically but he thinks it’s just because she knows that’s what he wants her to do, what she’s supposed to do, not because she actually wants to. Left to her own devices, he thinks she would still be in the elevator, if she would have even made it that far.
“I’ll be right back.” He tells her quietly.
He gets no reaction and he fights back memories of seeing her visit with her mother and having Moria react the same way. Instead he moves away, down the hall where she won’t be able to hear him and tries Lois on her cell again. She hasn’t been answering, neither has Clark and he doesn’t know what to do. It’s not Oliver Queen that she needs right now. He is the last person she needs. She needs Lois who will hug her and say all the right things. She needs Clark who will make her feel safe, who will find a way to make it right. She needs anyone who isn’t him.
He tries Lois three more times but there’s still no answer and he ignores his worry because he can’t focus on it then. He doesn’t try calling Clark because he thinks he might know the reason he’s not answering and he’s not ready to face that possibility. He’s certainly not ready to have to share it with Chloe. Instead he turns, heading back to the living room, back to Chloe. Because whether either of them likes it or not, he’s all she has.
She’s still in the same place he left her, he doesn’t think she’s moved at all, and he has to force himself not to retreat because he can’t stand the sight of her so broken. And she is broken, there’s not any other word for it. Because this is not the real Chloe Sullivan, so full of life and smiles, this is someone else. Someone he’s never seen before.
She has the gray blanket the paramedics gave her around her and it makes her look small. Despite her size, she’s never looked small to him before. She’s past the crying stage, but the tear tracks are still on her face as she stares at the wall. And he doesn’t think she knows, hopes to God she doesn’t know, but she has blood smeared on her cheeks from when she tried to brush tears away with blood soaked hands.
“Chloe” he croaks and then winces because he’s supposed to be strong. One of them needs to be strong and he’s ashamed to admit he wishes it didn’t have to be him. She doesn’t seem to have notice the momentary weakness though, doesn’t seem to have heard him at all.
“Chloe,” he repeats, moving to stand in front of her, “Let’s get you cleaned up and then you should lie down.”
It’s not much of a plan, but it’s something, and Chloe must agree because she takes his offered hand and lets him lead her to the bathroom. He carefully removes the blanket from her shoulders and he flinches at the amount of blood. He doesn’t think he’ll ever be able to rid himself of the image of Chloe clinging to Jimmy’s body, her hands try to mend something that could never be fixed.
“Chloe, I’m—I’m going to go find something for you to change into. Can you...I mean by yourself…I-I’ll be right back.”
He hurries out the room, escaping for just a few moments as he searches for something for her to wear that won’t drown her but he doesn’t find anything. Instead he settles on sweats she’ll have to roll up and a sweatshirt that will probably swallow her whole. But they’ll be warm and he thinks that’s more important right now.
When he gets back to the bathroom, her jacket is on the floor and she’s standing in front of the mirror attached to the sink and he knows she’s noticed the blood. He had really hoped she wouldn’t, that he would get to her first. She’s wiping at her cheeks with her blood caked hands but she’s only making it worse and new smears are appearing.
A choked sob tears itself from her throat and he realizes that it’s the first sound she’s made since they left the tower, left Jimmy. He drops the sweats and is beside her in seconds, forcing her hands down by her sides.
“I want it gone. Please, I want it gone.”
She keeps chanting the words as he grabs for a towel and turns on the water. It’s a long time before all the blood is gone and when it is, she’s still chanting.
He helps her change and in some part of his mind he recognizes that this is the first time that a half naked woman was before him and he never saw anything but her face. Right now the only thing he can see is her face. When he closes his eyes he still saw her, at the tower her face contorted as he pulled her away from Jimmy, tried to take her to a place where she wouldn’t see the coroner or the body bags they brought with them.
He leads her to his bedroom, guiding her towards the bed and pulling the covers out of the way. She doesn’t sit or lay down instead just stares as though she doesn’t know what he expects her to do.
“You should sleep, Chloe.” He tells her, “When was the last time you got any rest?”
Her forehead crinkles and her eyes fall shut and he can tell she’s trying to remember but failing. He knows how long it’s been for him. Can count back the days exactly to the last time he had felt truly rested. She had been there for him then, despite not wanting to be, she had been there, had kept his secret. Now it was his turn to be there for her.
“It’ll help.”
She nods her head at him and she moves to lie down, glancing up at him with wide eyes.
“Oliver I…”
She looks scared, panicked almost and he wants to look away.
“…stay. I just…please stay.”
He wants to say no. Wants to go hide in the living room, to call Lois and finally get an answer, to find someone else to stay with her, anyone else. He wants to drink himself into a stupor and just forget for a little while everything that has happened in the last twenty four hours, forget the feeling of Jimmy’s cold body, forget the sound of Chloe begging for him to come back, forget the sight of all that blood. And he can’t do that when she’s there.
But he can’t tell her no. Has never been good at telling her no, because she’s Chloe and somehow that means she can talk him into doing things, even when she hasn’t said anything at all.
“I…Okay.”
He toes off his shoes and socks, going back to his dresser to get himself another shirt. He doesn’t think she’s noticed the blood on him yet and he doesn’t want her to wake up to it. When he turns back around, she’s moved over to the other side of the bed, almost completely hidden beneath the covers. He settles down carefully beside her, making sure to keep enough distance between them before reaching over to turn out the light.
“Oliver?”
He turns back and she’s sitting up, leaning over to his side of the bed. “Yeah?”
“Will you be here when I wake up?”
She has that same panicked look from before. She’s still looks so horribly small and broken. And he wants to run away from it, from her, from the reality of it all. Because this wasn’t supposed to have happened. Not to Jimmy, not to her. If he had just showed up sooner, if he hadn’t went home to change out of his uniform, if he had gotten to her sooner, then this wouldn’t have happened. It would be Jimmy beside her, not him. Like it was supposed to be.
But he hadn’t gotten there in time and it was taking everything to push the guilt down and just focus on her. To focus on her and to not run away. He had always been so much better at leaving than he had ever been at staying.
“Yeah Chloe, I’ll be here.” He says and she seems to deflate in front of him, seems relieved almost as she lies down again as he moves back to turn off the light.
They lay there together in the dark and all he can hear, all he can focus on, is her breathing. Because she is still breathing, despite everything that has happened she’s still there, still breathing, still alive.
He feels her move beside him, shuffling closer on the bed until she’s pressed up against his side, her arm tentatively draping itself across his chest and his arms wrap around her on reflex, pulling her closer.
She stills beside him and he pauses, wondering if she’s realized what she’s done, remembered who he is, and is going to pull away. But she doesn’t. She pushes herself a bit closer, her hand tentatively traveling up his chest and he feels her lay her head down, resting right above his heart.
His grip tightens on her as he realizes what she was doing, what she had been searching for, and he forces himself to breathe evenly. He had promised her that he would stay and he would keep that promise, he would be there when she woke up in the morning. Because that was the only thing he could offer her and she deserves at least that. He wouldn’t run away.
Not yet.
Characters: Oliver, Chloe
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: Trust me when I say, I don’t own anything.
Warnings: Spoilers for Doomsday. Angst, my muse refuses to write anything but angst.
Summary: Oliver is the one to find her and take her home after everything has gone to hell. He doesn’t want to be that person, thinks she deserves to be with someone who knows how to comfort her, who knows how to make it better. But like it or not, he’s the only person she has.
Prompt: Why’d you have to wait, where were you, just a little late
Author’s Note: I realized that at some point, in my own head it just become canon for me that Oliver was the one to find Chloe after everything in Doomsday and that he was the one to take care of her, even though that’s something that was never touched on in the show. So for me this is more of a missing scene that kind of fills in some of the gaps between Jimmy’s death and his funeral, and offers an explanation of sorts of why Oliver didn’t disappear until after the funeral.
He guides her gently out of the elevator and over to his couch. She sits down automatically but he thinks it’s just because she knows that’s what he wants her to do, what she’s supposed to do, not because she actually wants to. Left to her own devices, he thinks she would still be in the elevator, if she would have even made it that far.
“I’ll be right back.” He tells her quietly.
He gets no reaction and he fights back memories of seeing her visit with her mother and having Moria react the same way. Instead he moves away, down the hall where she won’t be able to hear him and tries Lois on her cell again. She hasn’t been answering, neither has Clark and he doesn’t know what to do. It’s not Oliver Queen that she needs right now. He is the last person she needs. She needs Lois who will hug her and say all the right things. She needs Clark who will make her feel safe, who will find a way to make it right. She needs anyone who isn’t him.
He tries Lois three more times but there’s still no answer and he ignores his worry because he can’t focus on it then. He doesn’t try calling Clark because he thinks he might know the reason he’s not answering and he’s not ready to face that possibility. He’s certainly not ready to have to share it with Chloe. Instead he turns, heading back to the living room, back to Chloe. Because whether either of them likes it or not, he’s all she has.
She’s still in the same place he left her, he doesn’t think she’s moved at all, and he has to force himself not to retreat because he can’t stand the sight of her so broken. And she is broken, there’s not any other word for it. Because this is not the real Chloe Sullivan, so full of life and smiles, this is someone else. Someone he’s never seen before.
She has the gray blanket the paramedics gave her around her and it makes her look small. Despite her size, she’s never looked small to him before. She’s past the crying stage, but the tear tracks are still on her face as she stares at the wall. And he doesn’t think she knows, hopes to God she doesn’t know, but she has blood smeared on her cheeks from when she tried to brush tears away with blood soaked hands.
“Chloe” he croaks and then winces because he’s supposed to be strong. One of them needs to be strong and he’s ashamed to admit he wishes it didn’t have to be him. She doesn’t seem to have notice the momentary weakness though, doesn’t seem to have heard him at all.
“Chloe,” he repeats, moving to stand in front of her, “Let’s get you cleaned up and then you should lie down.”
It’s not much of a plan, but it’s something, and Chloe must agree because she takes his offered hand and lets him lead her to the bathroom. He carefully removes the blanket from her shoulders and he flinches at the amount of blood. He doesn’t think he’ll ever be able to rid himself of the image of Chloe clinging to Jimmy’s body, her hands try to mend something that could never be fixed.
“Chloe, I’m—I’m going to go find something for you to change into. Can you...I mean by yourself…I-I’ll be right back.”
He hurries out the room, escaping for just a few moments as he searches for something for her to wear that won’t drown her but he doesn’t find anything. Instead he settles on sweats she’ll have to roll up and a sweatshirt that will probably swallow her whole. But they’ll be warm and he thinks that’s more important right now.
When he gets back to the bathroom, her jacket is on the floor and she’s standing in front of the mirror attached to the sink and he knows she’s noticed the blood. He had really hoped she wouldn’t, that he would get to her first. She’s wiping at her cheeks with her blood caked hands but she’s only making it worse and new smears are appearing.
A choked sob tears itself from her throat and he realizes that it’s the first sound she’s made since they left the tower, left Jimmy. He drops the sweats and is beside her in seconds, forcing her hands down by her sides.
“I want it gone. Please, I want it gone.”
She keeps chanting the words as he grabs for a towel and turns on the water. It’s a long time before all the blood is gone and when it is, she’s still chanting.
He helps her change and in some part of his mind he recognizes that this is the first time that a half naked woman was before him and he never saw anything but her face. Right now the only thing he can see is her face. When he closes his eyes he still saw her, at the tower her face contorted as he pulled her away from Jimmy, tried to take her to a place where she wouldn’t see the coroner or the body bags they brought with them.
He leads her to his bedroom, guiding her towards the bed and pulling the covers out of the way. She doesn’t sit or lay down instead just stares as though she doesn’t know what he expects her to do.
“You should sleep, Chloe.” He tells her, “When was the last time you got any rest?”
Her forehead crinkles and her eyes fall shut and he can tell she’s trying to remember but failing. He knows how long it’s been for him. Can count back the days exactly to the last time he had felt truly rested. She had been there for him then, despite not wanting to be, she had been there, had kept his secret. Now it was his turn to be there for her.
“It’ll help.”
She nods her head at him and she moves to lie down, glancing up at him with wide eyes.
“Oliver I…”
She looks scared, panicked almost and he wants to look away.
“…stay. I just…please stay.”
He wants to say no. Wants to go hide in the living room, to call Lois and finally get an answer, to find someone else to stay with her, anyone else. He wants to drink himself into a stupor and just forget for a little while everything that has happened in the last twenty four hours, forget the feeling of Jimmy’s cold body, forget the sound of Chloe begging for him to come back, forget the sight of all that blood. And he can’t do that when she’s there.
But he can’t tell her no. Has never been good at telling her no, because she’s Chloe and somehow that means she can talk him into doing things, even when she hasn’t said anything at all.
“I…Okay.”
He toes off his shoes and socks, going back to his dresser to get himself another shirt. He doesn’t think she’s noticed the blood on him yet and he doesn’t want her to wake up to it. When he turns back around, she’s moved over to the other side of the bed, almost completely hidden beneath the covers. He settles down carefully beside her, making sure to keep enough distance between them before reaching over to turn out the light.
“Oliver?”
He turns back and she’s sitting up, leaning over to his side of the bed. “Yeah?”
“Will you be here when I wake up?”
She has that same panicked look from before. She’s still looks so horribly small and broken. And he wants to run away from it, from her, from the reality of it all. Because this wasn’t supposed to have happened. Not to Jimmy, not to her. If he had just showed up sooner, if he hadn’t went home to change out of his uniform, if he had gotten to her sooner, then this wouldn’t have happened. It would be Jimmy beside her, not him. Like it was supposed to be.
But he hadn’t gotten there in time and it was taking everything to push the guilt down and just focus on her. To focus on her and to not run away. He had always been so much better at leaving than he had ever been at staying.
“Yeah Chloe, I’ll be here.” He says and she seems to deflate in front of him, seems relieved almost as she lies down again as he moves back to turn off the light.
They lay there together in the dark and all he can hear, all he can focus on, is her breathing. Because she is still breathing, despite everything that has happened she’s still there, still breathing, still alive.
He feels her move beside him, shuffling closer on the bed until she’s pressed up against his side, her arm tentatively draping itself across his chest and his arms wrap around her on reflex, pulling her closer.
She stills beside him and he pauses, wondering if she’s realized what she’s done, remembered who he is, and is going to pull away. But she doesn’t. She pushes herself a bit closer, her hand tentatively traveling up his chest and he feels her lay her head down, resting right above his heart.
His grip tightens on her as he realizes what she was doing, what she had been searching for, and he forces himself to breathe evenly. He had promised her that he would stay and he would keep that promise, he would be there when she woke up in the morning. Because that was the only thing he could offer her and she deserves at least that. He wouldn’t run away.
Not yet.
