This is Not the End

By Ashtakra

Story: This is Not the End

Pairing: Oliver/Clark

Rating: M for the moment

Disclaimer: I own nothing

Warning: MM slash

Spoilers: none

Summary: Oliver is wounded, Clark is there to help and the identity of the Green Arrow is in danger. In this chapter things begin to move along between our two heroes.

Chapter 4

OQOQOQOQOQ

Oliver raced to the jet; it was already powered up thanks to his remote control. The Queen Industries technical division had come through once again. "Arrow to Cyborg, what's your status?"

"Thirty seconds behind you, Impulse and Aquaman are with me."

Seated in the cockpit Oliver checked his display and cursed. The proximity sensor was showing three squads moving this way – and by their energy readings they were carrying some serious firepower. "Negative Cyborg – abort! abort! abort!"

"What! No way boss – are you crazy?" It was Impulse but Oliver had no time to argue and secured the cabin door as the jet turned into the wind. There was little need for a runway since there was nothing but flat ice in all directions.

"Impulse! Make your way to back up position three. Aquaman, take Cyborg under. Do it! All of you now."

Hitting the throttle Oliver was thrust back into the seat as the engines opened up. In less than twenty seconds he was airborne and brought the aircraft around to the south. With Impulse in transit and the others submerged there was no contact and Oliver just hoped he had drawn the attention of Lex's hired troops.

A proximity warning gave him the answer and he banked automatically. A missile streaked by missing by only a hundred meters, too close at this altitude.

The counter-measure display came up in his glasses, automatically slaving into the jet's systems. He released the flares as another warning sounded, they were partially successful but the missile detonated in front of the jet and he had to fly through the fireball. There was no immediate damage that Oliver could tell and he breathed a sigh of relief as he knew he must almost be out of range.

Then the plane lurched as one engine faltered and died. Oliver immediately compensated but his speed dropped just as another proximity alarm went off. The rest of the counter-measures deployed but with one engine the jet was not quick enough and the missile detonated too close and tore one wing apart.

The second engine failed and with little altitude control the plane descended rapidly. "Mayday! Mayday! Mayday!" yelled Oliver, hoping one of the team heard him on the secure link. "Missile strike! Going down," he checked the readout panel and yelled the co-ordinates. Too soon the altitude alert sounded and Oliver gritted his teeth and tried to regain some control as the ice flew towards him. At the last minute he managed to get the nose up slightly, just enough that he avoided hitting the ice full on. The impact drove his arms into the console and pain flared above his wrist. The front of the kickboard crushed inwards against his leg and he felt a lance of burning pain that had to be a deep laceration.

After only a few seconds the movement stopped and Oliver looked through the glass and across the ice-shelf. Alive after a missile attack and crash landing, somebody was looking after him. Trying the commlink he was not surprised that all he got was static. There was a sudden creaking and an almighty crack then the plane crashed through the ice and Oliver found himself trapped underwater.

He should have been cold, freezing in fact but the cockpit was getting hotter. An acid smoke smell permeated his nostrils and he groaned in anger. A spark in the console ignited and flame leapt from the electrics to behind him. "No!" he shouted in fear and pain as the leaking fuel ignited and started cooking him alive. The radiated heat was unbearable and as he looked at his arm it blistered and split. He tried to move but couldn't, his leg was trapped. Fire filled his vision and he screamed.

OQOQOQOQOQOQOQ

Sitting up too quickly Oliver threw the sheets off just as Chloe came running in.

"Oliver! Its okay," she soothed and placed a hand on his arm, the uninjured one thankfully. As he looked around the room everything came rushing back; the crash, the rescue and coming here.

"Sorry Watchtower," he smiled. The room was way too hot, which might account for the nightmare end to his plane crash. "Bad dream."

"Not surprised," she murmured. Flexing an arm that was heavily strapped and damp with sweat Oliver remembered the doctor's visit and he frowned, something had been off about that but with the drugs in his system it was hard to think properly. "I hope you're ready to get up – you have an appointment at the hospital and Clark will kill me if I don't get you there."

At the mention of Clark Oliver's face lit up but he quickly tried to quell it lest Chloe take too much notice. He was well aware of her observation powers and would never underestimate Chloe's ability to work out everything from a single smile. Unfortunately the drugs were still affecting him and he almost fell trying to get out of bed. Chloe supported him and found him grinning like an idiot. "Do you know Clark can fly?" Mentally smacking himself in the head Oliver tried to stop his mouth from working, but it seemed to have a mind of its own. "He took me right up into the sky." His words were slurred as if drunk and just like that there was no censor. "Picked me up in those big strong arms and carried me to my bed – didn't stay though, not happy 'bout that." He pouted and Chloe snickered as she led him across to a chair.

Inside Oliver was wincing at every word but it was like a split personality. Speaking was drugged up Ollie, totally incapable of shutting the hell up; trying to take some semblance of control was Oliver Queen, billionaire tycoon who could negotiate the take-over of global companies. Ollie was winning. As Chloe tried to get a shirt on him he waved his arms about trying to point at his own eyes. "Clark has the most amazing eyes you know – and those luscious lips, had a close up view of those right across Alaska."

Chloe finally had success with the shirt but was now looking at him with some concern. "What the hell did the doctor give you Oliver?" He pointed across the room and she checked the side table. He could vaguely remember taking some as the sun was rising; the memory was not strong enough to remember if Clark had still been here.

"How many did you take?"

A swaying hand showed three fingers; at least he was fairly certain there were three. A grunt from across the room told him that maybe three was too many, but not deadly since there was no panicked phone call.

As more memories returned Oliver recalled asking Clark to stay but he was not sure he had got an answer. Did Clark stay? Should he ask Chloe? Even though his haze he could tell Chloe did not seem too disturbed at him describing Clark's lips as luscious. Had he actually said that? Chloe was now standing before him with some faded blue jeans, must have still been in the drawers since he had not stayed here in months.

"Gonna need some help this time big guy," she grumbled and he obediently stood up and put a leg out. Somehow they managed to get him dressed and out to the living room without too much giggling, from Oliver. "Drink this." An orange juice was shoved into his uninjured hand and he sipped at it. He might be quite high right now but his stomach was not feeling the best.

As the juice was replaced with a muffin Chloe talked as she went to pick up the paper. "Clark had to go out but you should know he stayed last night."

"He did?" Oliver mumbled around the cold muffin. His eyes misted up as he realised how good Clark staying made him feel. Chloe shook her head and he was sure she muttered something about 'boys' but could not make the rest out.

"Most of the night anyway," she said more clearly and held up the paper. Oliver almost choked when he saw the headline but even his addled brain figured it out quickly enough. One glance to the back of the room and Chloe answered his unasked question. "Everything is back where it should be, no evidence and no green tights lying about. Not that that would've been a bad thing." Her grin was mischievous and Oliver had to wonder just how much she had gleaned from his mad ramblings.

"I need to call Victor," Chloe announced and headed over to the desk. "After that we're going to the hospital then back here to lay low and work out the next move."

Nodding dumbly, not trusting himself to speak or even make a decision Oliver finished the muffin and picked up the TV remote. The plasma was on standby and only took a moment to power back up. The frozen image of Oliver in the wreck was still on and for the second time this morning Oliver almost choked. How in the hell had that got there? Spying his glasses pushed aside by the breakfast tray he picked them up. Sure enough it had uploaded the file that was now on screen. He quickly reset the plasma before Chloe returned and folded the glasses, sliding them into the couch. All his movements seemed to take place five seconds after his brain commanded them and the room was tilting at a very odd angle.

The fact that Clark, or Chloe, may have watched his messages sobered Oliver up a little and he concentrated on remaining quiet as they entered the lift. If Clark had watched it then Oliver had to work out what his next move would be, or maybe he should do nothing and see if Clark made a move.

He once again gave himself a mental smack as Chloe chuckled, "Yeah, cause waiting is what you do best."

Obviously he had not been silent after all.

LLLLLLLLLL

"Mr Luthor we've checked and double checked."

"Witnesses?"

The head of Luthorcorp security nodded. "All their stories match. We have the wreckage of the boat and even security tapes of Mr Queen entering the store."

Scrutinizing the still shots Lex said nothing. With the information the doctor had provided he was sure he had finally uncovered the identity of the Green Arrow. None other than that interfering bastard Oliver bloody Queen. Not surprising really considering the resources the Green Arrow seemed able to expend, the only shocking thing for Lex was that he hadn't considered the possibility earlier.

"It's too perfect," Lex finally muttered. "When you eliminate the impossible, whatever remains, no matter how improbable must be the truth." He held up one finger. "The Green Arrow is shot down in the Arctic." He added a finger. "Oliver Queen turns up with injuries consistent with a crash into icy waters." A third. "The Green Arrow returns to Metropolis – the very same night as Oliver Queen!" he yelled and slammed his hand down.

The security chief flinched but argued the point. "The evidence is solid Mr Luthor – Queen crashed in the East River, not the Arctic."

"Evidence can be faked, you know that."

"Even if that were true," he conceded. "How does an injured Oliver Queen spend the night fighting crime?"

That Lex had not figured out. The Green Arrow – Oliver Queen he corrected himself, had been able to heal from critical injuries before but only this morning Oliver had gone to the hospital for treatment. In the end it shouldn't matter, the end game for that annoying band of terrorists was about to start. The biggest and most elaborate trap was ready. Lex grinned in anticipation but decided on a back-up plan as well.

"Get me the munitions expert."

CKCKCKCKCKCK

"Ohhh," the moan vibrated across the room and Clark winced. Oliver was sitting with his head on the desk and in obvious pain. Having just stepped out of the lift Clark looked to Chloe; she walked over and explained quietly. "He took a few too many pain-killers this morning and now he's cut off until later tonight."

"I can hear you," said a muffled Oliver. He had not even moved his head so he was talking into the desk. Clark took a moment to consider how cute that looked before his empathy kicked in and he dragged Chloe out to the balcony.

They spoke softly so as not to disturb. Chloe told of the hospital trip and the prognosis. Oliver would be in pain for awhile but his injuries were not too serious and all he needed was rest and to resist strenuous activity. She said the last with a smirk and Clark frowned, this time sure that he had not misread the innuendo.

His next statement however removed the humour from the situation. "I saw Lex."

"Not the happiest of reunions?"

"No," answered Clark, shaking his head. "Whatever happened in prison has made him worse than ever."

Chloe sighed, "C'mon Clark, he wasn't exactly going for humanitarian of the year before that. You always try to see the good in him but you have to admit-."

"I know." He leant on the balcony and drew his arms in. "All these years I've seen him turning into what people already thought of him – a monster, evil – you know."

"More than most."

"But I got to know the Lex that cared about people. There was a time when he would have done anything for those he cared for. I don't want to think that the man who would once take a bullet for me has gone forever."

Taking one of Clark's hands Chloe gave it a chaste kiss. "His failure to be a decent human is not your failure as a friend Clark. Maybe there was never a chance for him – no matter what happened Lex Luthor was probably always destined to be a monster."

"And what about me Chloe? What's my destiny – to save him… or to always be here to stop him?"

"Neither, both?" She checked her watch and gave him a quick hug. "I have to go, half a day was all I could manage." Walking to the balcony door she turned and gave him a wink. "You boys play nice now." With a giggle and a whispered word to Oliver she left.

CKCKCKCKCKCK

Clark stayed on the balcony for a while, his exchange with Lex and then Chloe giving him much food for thought. He had seen Lex angry before and even vengeful. What he saw today though had been something else, a cold ruthlessness that chilled even his kryptonian blood. Perhaps Chloe was right and it was time to stop hoping for miracles and just accept that he and Lex were now enemies. It was not an easy thing to digest, even after all that had happened. He remembered a Lex who would laugh in good humour and not with spite. Someone who would share whatever they had and risk it all for no reward. Maybe though he had always seen Lex wrongly, the man he thought a friend had been a façade?

Shaking his head Clark dismissed that. He was the first to admit that he had been naïve over the years but there were many times when Lex had been a genuine friend, even brother. The dull pain in his chest told him it was the brother that hurt the most. They had been brothers, in all but name. It was not a simple matter of cutting ties with someone who was family, that was only ever easy in a soap opera. Too much shared history and good memories made it easy to hate what Lex had become but to forget him, never.

"I don't want to complain but I'm a little adverse to the cold at the moment, and the open doors aren't helping." Oliver was standing against the table looking absolutely miserable. Smiling an apology Clark came back in and closed the doors. Almost immediately the room started heating back up.

The city noise also dropped considerably and Clark wondered how much sound-proofing Oliver had installed, then his cheeks reddened when some reasons for such extra precautions came to mind. He blamed Chloe for putting the thoughts in his head.

Oliver left the table and started wandering over. He looked a lot better than when Clark had first returned but was obviously still in some pain. At least the exhausted look had disappeared and with it the misery. Which made Clark consider how much had been an act?

His unasked question was soon answered. "Actually I'm over the hyperthermia but I saw you out there and you looked like you were about to cry." He stopped and gave Clark a strange sideways smile. "And I don't want you to be sad; in fact I just decided it will be one of my missions to cheer you up."

"One of your missions?" Clark asked with a small smile, a little banter was just what he needed to forget the day he was having.

"Well I do have several plans in mind."

Folding his arms in mock disbelief Clark responded. "I find that hard to believe, every time I checked on you last night there was very little scheming going on." That made Oliver's face brighten up and he smiled widely.

"Oh yeah Kent," he challenged and stepped closer. Oliver was favouring his side where his arm was in a sling but Clark marvelled that somehow he still made it seem like a fashion statement. "Maybe I was pretending. Plots within plots, the whole Machiavellian scheme – never letting you see the truth until its too late."

Clark laughed loudly and wiped away a pretend tear. "You need some work then because it's pretty obvious what your plan is."

The blonde pretended to look hurt but then victory spread across his face. "You laughed! I told you it would bubble up one day."

Letting his arms fall and opening up his body language Clark leaned against the couch. He was enjoying this far too much, especially since he thought he'd be nervous in Oliver's presence, worried that Oliver would see through him far too quickly. Even that didn't bother him right now. Their friendship had been built on trust and not lies and that was not something Clark had ever truly experienced. Just for once he could have fun and not worry about what was said. Clark decided to play the game since Oliver had obviously recovered enough to regain his usual cheeky demeanour.

"I think you also mentioned getting lucky if that ever happened." Oliver did not immediately respond to that and Clark could not dare look at him. Had he gone too far? Perhaps the banter had been just that and in testing the situation Clark had overstepped the friendship. When he finally built up the courage to glance at Oliver the blonde had a look of amazement on his face and a definite twinkle in his eyes.

Shaking his head Oliver actually stammered in his response. "Y…you are just full of surprises." He moved closer so that their heads were almost touching and the heat in the room suddenly became very evident. "Just when I thought I had Clark Kent worked out," soft lips whispered in his ear. "He lets me know that wonders will never cease."

Clark gazed at the side of Oliver's face and ran his eye down the neckline to the hint of sweaty torso revealed by the loose cotton shirt. Part of him thought Oliver might be just toying with him; the bigger part no longer cared. "I told you," rasped Clark as he brought Oliver's head around with his hand. "I already know your plan." Lips met and Clark's last doubt dissipated as Oliver leaned into it and gave a deep growl. Opening his mouth a little Clark tentatively moved his tongue over Oliver's bottom lip then edged up and inwards. Oliver relented all too quickly and their tongues intertwined, grazing over teeth and moistened lips. Moving slightly Oliver pressed his body against Clark's and he gasped, the heat Oliver was giving off was noticeable and unlike anything Clark had experienced. The blonde raised his head letting Clark nuzzle into his neck and Clark luxuriated in the taste of Oliver's sweat, unblemished by any deodorant or after-shave.

"Clark," rumbled Oliver, using his name like a question and a statement all rolled into one. Clark understood the question and grinded into Oliver in response. Oliver winced slightly and Clark remembered his ribs, he started to apologize but Oliver laughed. "Don't treat me like a delicate doll Clark." He looked up into Oliver's eyes and they were dark with lust. "I don't break that easily." Pushing Clark back they rolled over onto the couch and Clark knew for certain that they were never going to make it to the bedroom, at least not this time.

Tbc…