Disclaimer: I don't own anything. Everything belongs to Smallville and the DC Comics.

He didn't know how long he'd been there, sitting on that chair next to his bed, willing him to wake up.

"How is he?"

He stared at the young man lying on the hospital bed. He couldn't answer. His heart stung at the thought that he should have been the one lying there; that he had been the target of that bullet. Yet, his son, the one he had abandoned so long ago, had been willing to die for him.

He felt her hand on his shoulder and he heaved a heavy sigh.

"Still the same. They don't know if he's going to wake up."

She gave him a small squeeze.

"Ollie, I know you feel like you've failed him, but you've been doing the right thing since he entered your life. Don't be too hard on yourself."

He couldn't say anything. He knew that she wanted to comfort him but he didn't feel like he had done enough. He'd always feel like he could have done so much more for Connor.

"I - I'm not leaving him again," he murmured. "I'll be a father for him."

He wanted to right his past mistakes. He'd make it up to Connor. He had to.

She rubbed his shoulders soothingly.

"And… I'll be a mother figure for him… if you still want me to."

Thoughts still on his son, he was caught off guard by her words. He could hear the nervousness in her voice. He turned around and looked at her.

"What do you mean, Dinah?"

"Marry me. No costumes and no crowds this time. Just the two of us, surrounded by our friends and family."

He didn't answer immediately. She leaned down and kissed him.

SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS

He woke up with a start. He breathed in and closed his eyes, he needed some time to fully process that dream. Eventually, he rolled himself to his side and opened his eyes to look at her. He was glad that they had forgotten to close the windows. It allowed the moonlight to shine through. It allowed him to see her, asleep and so peaceful with the side of her face against her pillow. To remind himself that this, that his love for Chloe was his reality.

He couldn't exactly remember when those dreams had started. A few weeks ago, maybe? At first, he had ignored them, had deemed them to be a product of the unresolved tension between him and Dinah. Not that he had any urge to resolve the tension.

Chloe was his one and only.

But then, the dreams had never stopped. Instead, they had become clearer, more detailed. So much that he had ruled out the recurring/continuous dream theory. They had felt like memories instead. Memories from the future? Had he developed some kind of precognitive meta ability?

No, that didn't make sense.

Because so far, the dreams had all been Chloe-less and had all featured an older bearded him, and Dinah, with whom he had been having quite a rocky relationship. Furthermore, it seemed like he had become quite a man-whore, reverting back to his wilder days and had procreated before abandoning his offspring...

Definitely no sense at all.

Dinah, however attractive she might be, was not someone he saw himself marrying.

He had never liked beards.

A future without Chloe by his side was simply inconceivable.

He had always yearned for a family. He'd never abandon his son.

SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS

Maybe it would have been easier if he had spoken with Chloe about all this. She had always been the brains to his brawn, could have come up with an explanation in no time at all… But he had not dared to. Part of him felt like he was cheating on her by having those weird dreams about Dinah.

And he hadn't wanted to make her doubt his love for her. It had taken her long enough to finally trust her heart with him, he didn't want her to ever think that he'd, even subconsciously, want a future without her.

SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS

She suddenly stirred, as if sensing his eyes on her. "Ollie?" she whispered as she sleepily opened her eyes.

"I'm right here, sidekick," he said, scooting closer to her, aligning their bodies.

She sighed contentedly, snuggling against his chest as he embraced her. Softly he kissed the crown of her hair, as something akin to dread began to blossom inside his chest.

What if those dreams meant that he had messed up in the future? Had he hurt her? Had she realized that she deserved someone better than him? Had she left him?

"Chloe?"

"Hmm?"

"You know that I love you, right?" He hoped he didn't scare her with the desperation in his voice.

She pressed a kiss against his chest.

"Love you too."

He closed his eyes and smiled, the heavy feeling easing a little.

"I'd never willingly hurt you, Chloe. I hope you know that."

She opened her eyes to look at him, a frown line between her brows, "Are you alright, Ollie?"

He smiled and nodded. He hadn't wanted to worry her.

"I just don't want to lose you."

Her face softened. "I'm not going anywhere…"

He gave her another smile, a real one this time before leaning slightly and pressing his lips against hers. "I'm glad."

"Me too," she smiled, yawning softly. "Now, stop worrying and go back to sleep Ollie…"

He hummed in answer.

Her cheek pillowed against his chest, she quickly fell asleep again. For a while, he watched over her, praying for sleep not to come for him again.

SSSSSSSSSSSSSSS

He had been sitting behind bars, dressed in an ugly orange jumpsuit, when she had come to him. He had expected her to comfort him. He had expected her to tell him that she understood why he had done it. He would not have willingly killed Prometheus. She had to know that he had been pushed to his limit. They had lost their city and their grandchild after all.

When instead, she had removed her ring from her finger, and had handed it to him along with the divorce papers, he had understood that he had lost it all.

"When did it all go wrong, Dinah?"

She didn't answer, only looked at him apologetically before leaving.

SSSSSSSSSSSSSS

He opened his eyes, heart beating wildly against his chest. He stared at Chloe who was still asleep. Once again, he felt that uneasy feeling setting inside of his chest. He felt like he needed to breathe, like he was suffocating.

Was there any truth to his visions? Would he really become that mess of a man? Would he really kill another man? And what about Chloe? Why wasn't she in his visions?

He looked at her, so peaceful while asleep and willed himself to calm down. Maybe something was messing with his brain. Those dreams made no sense. He shouldn't be scared because of them. He'd have to call Emil, have a thorough check up, have him scan his brain.

Yeah, he'd definitely do that later that day.

His breathing slowed, he felt calmer, but he didn't want to go back to sleep. He could not risk finding even more about the failure he had become in his dreams. As gently as he could, he shifted away from her, got up from the bed and slogged towards the adjacent bathroom.

After switching on the light, he went to lean over the sink and turned on the tap. He splashed a handful of cold water against his face, staring at his reflection in the mirror.

He needed to clear his mind. Those dreams didn't mean anything. They couldn't.

Cupping his hands, he gathered more water, but he let it all fall down when he lifted his head and looked back into the mirror. He spun around but there was no one there.

Had he imagined the red robed man standing behind him? Was he going crazy? He spun back towards the mirror when he heard his voice.

"Hello, Mr. Queen."

He didn't turn around again. Instead he stared at the red robed man's reflection through the mirror. With the hood of his robe up, Oliver could not distinguish his face.

"Who are you? How did you get in here?" he asked, voice much calmer than what he was feeling at the moment. His mind was racing. He had no weapon to defend himself, he didn't even know if the man was armed. Maybe he could break the tap and -

The man didn't answer his question. He actually asked one of his own.

"Have you had some trouble sleeping lately, Mr. Queen?"

He stilled, trying to keep a straight face as he kept his gaze on the mirror. No one could know about that, unless the one standing in his bathroom was actually the cause of his messed up dreams. His eyes narrowed.

"How do you know about my dreams?"

He heard the man chuckle, and stared as he brought one of his hands to his mouth.

The sleeve fell down from his upper arm. No wrinkles on that hand. At least, he now knew that he wasn't dealing with some kind of old monk.

"Dreams? You disappoint me, Mr. Queen. I'd thought that you had realized by now that those were visions from your future. Your destiny."

There it was; the confirmation of his fears. But he couldn't accept it, he didn't even know if he could trust that man.

"So why are you here?" he tried to sound unaffected. "Did you come to warn me? So that I can be a better man?"

The man shook his head, and his voice was clipped when he replied, "Not exactly."

He frowned. "What do you mean?

"Your relationship with Chloe Sullivan should never have happened."

Oliver couldn't stop the huge grin from appearing on his face as his heart swelled with love for her. So being with her had somehow changed his destiny? He knew he had fallen for her for a reason.

He turned around, somewhat relieved by what he had just been told. "Screw destiny, then."

"You don't understand, Mr. Queen. Don't you find it strange that she's never appeared in any of your dreams?"

That stopped him. He turned around, not liking at all where this was going.

"What aren't you telling me?" he asked, though he already knew the answer.

"If you don't let her go, she'll die by your side. You won't be able to save her. You'll forever blame yourself and you'll turn into that man you saw in your dreams."

That couldn't be true. He didn't want to believe him, he just couldn't.

"I can't leave her."

How could he leave behind the best thing that had ever happened in his life? The one who had made him believe in love?

"You will, if you want her to live."

Oliver ran a hand through his hair. That could not be true. He couldn't leave Chloe. She'd never forgive him. Hell, he'd never forgive himself.

"Why should I believe you?"

The man removed his hood and Oliver felt like he needed a drink. Those green eyes. There was no mistaking who that young man had gotten them from. And judging by his dark hair and his physical build, he knew that he was definitely not the dad.

"She's my mom; I came back in time to save her."

He breathed in, willing himself to ask the question, wishing 'Kent' was not the answer.

"What's your name, kid?"

The young man stared at him, as if wondering if he should tell him the truth.

Eventually, he replied. "Terry… Terry Wayne."

Thanks for reading. Not beta-ed. Sorry for the mistakes. I'd be really extremely grateful if you were kind enough to leave some feedback. Thank you. The fic is based on the song Swans by the band Unkle Bob.