Hey guys- I know I haven't been keeping up on my stories, and I'm sorry about that. But before I continue with any of those, I needed to get this out. I always told myself that I wouldn't write songfics, but guess what...here it is. The story was inspired by the song "Hear You Me" by Jimmy Eat World.
A friend of mine was killed last Tuesday while training with his cross-country team. If you live in Los Angeles, California, you've probably heard of him. His name was Conor Lynch. This story is dedicated to him. His funeral was Monday morning.
Rest in Paradise, Conor. We'll never forget you.
-SMALLVILLE: THE FINAL SEASON-
There's no one in town I know
You gave us some place to go.
I never said thank you for that.
I thought I might get one more chance.
I can still hear her heartbeat…can still feel her nervous breaths on my neck as I admitted my undying love for her. In the dead of night, I can still imagine her promising me that she would always be there. I would never need to go through anything alone…if she was by my side.
When I was lost…she found me. When I was dead…she brought me back and gave me a reason to go on living. When the team was scattered…in a time of need…she brought us back together…created the Justice League of America. Chloe Sullivan gave me a home when I thought it was impossible to find…she gave me a family when I thought I was alone.
And I never even told her how much it meant to me. I told her I loved her as I held her…but I never said how much I'd cared for her since she'd brought us together as a team…almost a family.
What would you think of me now,
so lucky, so strong, so proud?
I never said thank you for that,
now I'll never have a chance.
"You'd be so ashamed of me," I mumbled under my breath, kneeling on the fresh dirt before my beloved wife's grave. "I'm sorry to let you down." I felt a tear slide down my pale face that was frozen by the cold winter air. "I love you, Chloe. Forever."
I looked back at the rest of the league that had gathered to pay their respects to their true leader. Bart's disbelieving face…the tears in AC's eyes that had yet to fall. Dinah's black dress that blew in the wind…the occasional snowflake resting on her arm until it melted and another took its place. But my eyes rested on the little boy whose hand she held.
Connor. My little boy. The son that Chloe loved so much. His wide gaze focused on me, his innocent, green eyes penetrating my mind. Another pang hit my chest as I realized that as he grew older, any memories of his mother would fade away until they were nonexistent. His once-five-year-old mind would be like an old blurry home video that isn't worth watching.
And maybe…I didn't want him to see me like this. Chloe had told me that every day, it became more evident that Connor was my son. I had agreed as I looked on, beaming with pride as he hit his first bulls-eye at the age of four. "Like me," I had said, gathering my beloved into my arms, "Except the eyes, sidekick." His eyes were a perfect replica of his mother's, bright green with a hint of curiosity and mischievousness.
And he knew. What had he said on his fifth birthday? "I'm gonna be just like you, Daddy," he had said, his face lighting up as I helped him with his new bow, painted green. "I'm gonna be a hero just like you." My little boy's simple, honest words caused a smile the size of Texas to appear on my face and stay there for the rest of the day.
That night, as I peeled off my leather suit, she had wrapped her arms around me and kissed me softly, thanking me for coming back safely. We lay in bed in silence for about a minute before Chloe whispered, "He adores you, you know." I groaned, turning around to face her.
"I know, Chloe," I whispered back, tucking a lock of her golden hair behind her ear before leaning in to kiss her again. After another moment, I continued, "You were right."
"What's that?" she hummed, tracing her fingers across a scar on my arm.
"You told me he was going to be a strong little guy," I recounted, remembering when she had first told me we were having a son. "I didn't quite believe you then. Now I do." In response, she kissed me, bringing our bodies closer together.
As I tore my eyes away from the child I loved so much…I whispered a query to my wife, hoping that somehow she heard me. "What would he think of me now?"
May angels lead you in.
Hear you me my friends.
On sleepless roads the sleepless go.
May angels lead you in.
My brown irises finally focused on Chloe's family…her father…cousins…Lois. Clark Kent, standing tall and proud as he always did, was holding her in his arms, almost too afraid to let go. Like I could blame him. I thought I saw a tear fall down his cheeks, but I couldn't tell…his expression was impassive, as it always was. Tears flowed from Lois's eyes as she looked at me in sorrow. She couldn't form words, but I understood. Chloe shouldn't have died in this way. She shouldn't have died at all.
Lois broke out of Clark's arms to slip her hand into my grasp. I held it tightly, my breathing uneven and shaky. I swallowed, turning to look into her eyes. She waited for a second, and then wrapped her arms around my waist, crying into my chest. "Lois," I was able to say. "I'm sorry…I should've-"
"Don't give me that," she said firmly. "It wasn't your fault." My eyebrows contracted as I gave her a confused glance. "You couldn't have saved her. You're not anything but human, Oliver Queen." A tear managed to crawl its way down my face as I realized that she was right, as she normally was.
"I'm sorry," was all I could say, again. But who was I apologizing to, exactly? To Lois? Or maybe, more likely, to myself?
"Ollie, you have to be strong for Connor," she whispered, her voice solid. "You need to be a father to the last remaining proof that she ever existed."
At my cousin-in-law's words, I turned to face my son again. How long ago had it been…that his mother had saved me from my nightmares?
I woke up one morning, at dawn. From the top floor of our building, I could see the early rays of the sun, stretching out to greet us. The mixture of red, yellow, orange, and just a hint of purple appearing to cover the darkness of night made a slight smile appear on my face, though not enough to make me forget why I had woken up.
"Oliver?" I felt a hand wrap around my chest, her sweet voice calling my name. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing," I mumbled. "'Tower, go back to sleep." She sat up, turning my head towards her and kissing my forehead as lightly as possible.
"Tell me," Chloe said simply. She didn't beg. She didn't plead. She just waited, her gaze boring into my eyes that were as easy to read as her mystery novel that resided on the bedside table.
"It's always the same one," I admitted, throwing the bed sheets off, standing up. "Sleep, Chloe. You need it." And indeed she did. There were dark circles under her eyes…most of which were probably my fault.
Instead of listening to me, she stood up herself and followed me into the living room. "I wish you could trust me, Ollie."
I turned around, dismayed. "I trust you with my life."
"Then just tell me what's going on," she demanded, placing a gentle hand on my bare chest. "Please, Oliver."
"Ever since I came back from the island…I've had nightmares about my parents…about the crash." I searched her concerned green irises, as if worried about what she would think of me. "No matter what I do…they always haunt me. I don't know what to do."
"Hmm," she had said. "You know what I'd do?" I'd shrugged.
"No."
She smiled, that grin infectious. "I focus on the future." I had stared at her for all of a second, and then brought her petite frame against my body, my lips pressed tightly to hers.
A month later, I remembered, we'd learned that Chloe was pregnant. Despite myself, despite my grief, I smiled slightly.
I looked back at Lois and kissed her forehead. "Thank you," I murmured. She smiled, and reluctantly released her hold on my arm.
I gently touched my wife's newly crafted gravestone…my hand shaking. It read, 'Chloe Sullivan-Queen, Beloved Daughter, Cousin, Wife, Mother, Hero, and Friend.' Blinking back another hot tear, I almost laughed. Chloe was a hero. If not for compromising everything that she stood for, I would have insisted the title 'Watchtower' be present on the memorial.
Maybe that's better left in the memories of those who loved her.
So what would you think of me now,
so lucky, so strong, so proud?
I never said thank you for that,
now I'll never have a chance.
I stepped back, the cold wind blowing across my face. I took Connor into my arms, sighing shakily. I couldn't cry. Not while I need to be strong for my son.
My five-year-old little boy kissed my forehead softly, causing a tear to escape my eye anyway. "I love you, Daddy," he whispered.
"Oh…" I swallowed. Nothing could've prepared me for what he considered a simple truth. "I love you too, Connor." I kissed his hair, almost just to make sure that he was real. I looked into his eyes, realizing with another sudden pang that his admission reminded me so much of his mother.
"Mommy…" he said quietly, staring up at me with his green orbs. "She's not coming back, is she?"
I wiped my eyes subtly, proceeding then to brush snow out of his golden hair. "No…" I answered, my voice catching. "No, she's not, pal."
"Because the bad men got her?"
My heart almost broke, hearing my son's solemn matter-of-fact tone of what had happened. He should have been able to live a happy life with no cares except what grades he needed to get into a good college…maybe how to ask his eventual wife to marry him.
But that's not who we are, as Chloe had reminded me so long ago. No matter the lengths we go to to protect the next generation, they will eventually become enlightened…become one of us.
I was reminded of Connor's admission that he was going to be just like me. My little boy was going to grow up to be a hero. Maybe he just didn't know it all yet…but he would learn in time.
I kissed his blond hair again as he rested his head on my chest, his small hands curled around my neck. Finding the steady, rhythmic beating of his heart soothing, I closed my eyes, if only for a moment.
Once I opened them again, I looked up into the cloudy sky. You're my angel, Chloe. You'll always be watching over us…won't you?
"Because the bad men got her," I affirmed, if only to console myself.
"It wasn't your fault, Daddy," my son mumbled, his eyes closing. "It was only them."
I smiled slightly, amazed at the insight that the child had about my mind. God, I love you, Connor. "I know, pal," I whispered, amazed that I actually believed the words I never thought possible. "I know."
You are watching over your son, Watchtower. He won't only be like me…he'll be like you. He already is.
May angels lead you in.
May angels lead you in.
May angels lead you in.
May angels lead you in.
I wish we had more time, Chloe. There was so much that I never told you because I never thought I had to. Looking down, I saw that Connor had fallen asleep. I silently passed him off to Dinah, who nodded simply.
I took a few shaky steps forward and kneeled before my beloved's grave once again. Reaching inside my pocket, I pulled out her headset, the one that I had given her once she had officially given up her past as a reporter and accepted her future as the leader of the Justice League. The Watchtower. I dug a small hole and placed the headpiece inside. I stared at it for a moment before covering it up again.
"It won't be the same without you," I whispered, knowing it to be only the truth. "We'll continue to use the Tower…I know you'd want us to. It'll be a home to all of us. I promise." I slowly wiped my dirt-covered hands on my pants, tears continuing to fall down my cheeks. "I'd give anything for one more night with you." I was about to turn back, but I remembered one last thing that I had to admit before I left her to rest. "I love you, Chloe. My Watchtower. My sidekick. My best friend. My wife. Forever."
And if you were with me tonight,
I'd sing to you just one more time.
A song for a heart so big,
God wouldn't let it live.
May angels lead you in.
Hear you me my friends.
On sleepless roads the sleepless go.
May angels lead you in.
May angels lead you in.
Hear you me my friends.
On sleepless roads the sleepless go.
May angels lead you in.
On sleepless roads the sleepless go.
May angels lead you in.
The End
-SMALLVILLE: THE FINAL SEASON-
Remember to leave a review, tell me what you think.
If it wasn't clear, Chloe was shot or something by whatever group or bad guy the League was fighting against. This whole thing took place at her burial, just a lot of Oliver looking back on stuff. Sorry if it was confusing.
Thanks for reading.
William D. J. Watson
