Nothing in Stone
Disclaimer: I don't own Smallville.
Chapter 1: Graveyard of Broken Hearts
Jimmy Olson.
A light February snow draped the graveyard with faint touches. It wasn't often that Chloe Sullivan found herself walking among the sleepers. It was what her mother had always called the dead. A sort of romantic phrasing but Chloe had longed to be a writer and while she found truth more valuable than flowery phrases there was a certain appeal.
Chloe had always been pragmatic. Always searching for truth, never leaving a question unanswered. She could find any answer except her own.
"I know I haven't been here recently. I'm working with Oliver and some of the others. I'm trying to be happy. I--"
She trembled staring at the tombstone. She was supposed to have a happily ever after. Jimmy and she were supposed to enjoy the early day of marriage. They were supposed to have children and grow old together. There were so many supposed to bes and not enough had happens.
"It hurts doesn't it?"
Chloe's head whipped around. "I don't know what I did for to have the JSA approach me when I'm at my husband's grave."
"Not the JSA just me."
Carter Hall stood not to her far from her. His eyes never left a grave in the center.
"Your wife?"
"Shayera was buried here in Metropolis. I try to come once every few months but lately…How did you loose you husband?"
"Doomsday. Jimmy was just a photographer at the Daily Planet. I met him when I was working there."
"Did he know about—"
"I kept Jimmy from the line of fire."
"Not too well."
His accusation cut through her. "You have no right—"
"Keeping people out of this life isn't possible. It never works. Nelson tried to. But he couldn't protect Ineza and his children from his life. The others thought they could keep their families in the dark but prison made that rather difficult. Our families were forced to learn the truth."
"I would have told Jimmy everything. I would've."
"You know you wouldn't. When you live a life like ours you live a half life. Stop hiding who you are."
Chloe glanced at the grave in the center. "You must have been very lucky to not have to hide those parts of yourself."
Carter gazed at the grave. Shayera. She had been with him for thousands of years and this time he felt the horrible breech as if separation was permanent, concrete. He had dreamed of her recently and with only Sandy Hawkins to interpret he didn't bother to ask. Sandy was Wes's protégée but that didn't mean that there was trust.
The world was so far away from him. He could see the society. The old members merged with the new and it was unending. In the white light he felt himself alone.
Her hands. He knew her by her hands as they brushed the contours of his face.
"Shayera."
"Hello Carter."
"Why are you here? I haven't seen you in dreams for so long."
Shayera smiled softly at him in the brightness. "You had a purpose with Nelson. You were able to stay alive because he needed you. The Society needs you but I know you Carter. You will not stay with the Society after you feel they are established enough. Courtney needs you right now but Sylvester trained her. Pat will help her. You are loosing your resolve Carter."
"I admit that death is very appealing. We can begin our cycle again very soon."
"There will be no more cycles Carter. It ends my dear one."
"Shayera, you cannot mean—"
"I can see your fate Carter. Our souls are parting ways. Room in your soul and your heart is necessary."
"Shayera!"
She faded into the light. "It is not that I don't love you Carter. I do this because I do."
"SHAYERA!"
He had lived with that dream for three weeks. Alone. He had been a fool to think that he was the only one who had suffered. He looked at the young woman standing alone. Her loss had been engraved in her soul. He could see the brand that he too carried marking her.
"It's been a long time since I talked about Shayera."
"Does it stop hurting?"
He could see the tears in green eyes. There was too much pain there for one so young. He could see that she carried the weight of her team upon herself. She was only the source of information, the researcher, the seeker of answers, the asker of questions. Yet she had taken upon herself to pull her team back from the brink.
Carter Hall was not a soft man. Chloe had known that from the moment she met him throwing Oliver through the ceiling. Carter was harshness and precision. He was a soldier and while she had surrounded herself by heroes they were not warriors. Oliver was about the logistics. Clark was about the heart.
His arms wrapped around her as he stroked her hair. "I wish it did."
For once Chloe let herself be broken. She cried over lost love and over obligation. The world felt Chloe Sullivan's tears and Carter Hall's heart softened a little.
Oliver Queen didn't expect to see the shadow over the glass roof of the watchtower. It didn't bring back pleasant memories.
Chloe had come home hours before shivering from the snow. She had looked cold but refused to acknowledge him as she trudged to her bedroom.
"Do I want to know why I have the pleasure of your company?"
"I wish I was here to throw you the window again. But I'd like a repeat performance maybe later."
Oliver glared. "I don't have time for this Carter. My team—"
"That's why I'm here. You're not taking care of your team."
"You—"
"Your Watchtower, she needs some support. You seem to think that she is invincible but she's not. She is flesh and blood not a search engine."
"What the gives you the right to accuse me of that? Chloe's fine. She always bounces back. She might be going through some personal stuff but she knows she can talk to me or Clark."
Carter bit back his retort. The woman he stood in the graveyard holding—he knew that type of pain. The two men she called her friends were obviously too up to the necks in their own lives.
"Carter, what really brings you here? Besides some irrational concern about Chloe. I doubt you wanted to be here especially with it snowing."
"The JSA will be in contact with you. The other original members would like to meet your team."
"I'll have Chloe set it up. Anything else?"
"Tell Chloe to call me. I'm handling it personally."
Oliver raised an eyebrow. "Since when do you play social secretary?"
"Just tell her to call me before I decide to shove my mace somewhere that the light never sees."
"What nice imagery."
"Just have Chloe call me. I'll be at the museum."
To be continued…