A/N: OMG, we're heeeere! I finally made it to the last chapter! To everyone who's been enjoying this, please enjoy the last chapter, where I wrap it all up and get us ready for the NEXT fic in the series. Poor Dean and Chloe, I couldn't help but put them through the wringer, but, y'know, it's Supernatural... and Smallville. Soooo... there HAS to be angst. Anyway, thank you to Ruthyh and Hermoine Double for the reviews, they are SUPER appreciated! If you've been waiting to review it until it's complete, now is the time to heap on what you think, all those feels! Thanks again, and I'm glad you've enjoyed it! The next fic, The Roads We Take, should be starting in a month or so.
Chapter Seven: Sunday
Solomon Grundy
Born on a Monday
Christened on Tuesday
Married on Wednesday
Took Ill on Thursday
Grew Worse on Friday
Died on Saturday
Buried on Sunday
I am sorry. About Chloe.
The Fate of the Sentient Power...
You're not gonna hug me now, are ya?
Icarus flies too high...
I'm just saying. I understand that it's at times like these, you miss them most. No relationship can escape that possibility. But if there's one thing I've learned in the last, oh, 3000 years, it's that fear should never decide love.
Show me Oliver!
So now we're all card-carrying members of the fugitive club...
The Remnant of the Power in the Filth.
No... Fate... I have to go back... They need me...
We have to protect the secrets we still have.
You have Chosen their Fate, Chloe Sullivan. This Path has been set.
No, Fate... if they separate... if they go dark...
I'm looking for the best and brightest of your generation.
I did what you asked of me!
He is Risen. The Mighty One bound by The Omega. He is Risen.
Chosen Girl, you will lose Oliver. But there will be another.
I'm going to take care of you. I'm going to take care of you. I gotcha. It's my job, right, watch out for my pain-in-the-ass little brother... Sam... Sam...
Why would you show me this, Fate?
It can't always be you, Clark. This is all of our fight. Listen. This is what we do. And my passing means I'll be with Sheyera again.
I owe you so much I don't know how to begin to thank you.
Icarus has burned in the fire of the Darkness, Chosen Girl.
You hold onto her. Because there has to be a balance, Clark. We can't do what we have to do if there's an emptiness in our heart. Remember that.
You have Chosen this Path. Your Fate is as mine.
Sammy!
You don't make it easy to ask a simple question.
Clark... No... Fate, you're going too fast...
Hope you got your stories straight.
The Reaper can swing his sickle at me but I am beyond Death's Stroke now.
Your Fate Lies Elsewhere.
A Funeral... No... It's a TRAP!
Chloe shot up in bed with a start, terror permeating every sense, bright golden light still flooding her vision, the world around her non-existent. Images flashed before her too rapidly to take in, and the Touch of Fate left her almost as swiftly as it had taken her dreams. The wordless anguish she felt as Carter's wings burned and seared across her vision gave way to raw fear until the images finally dissipated. All that remained was the simple, peeling wallpaper, the rickety wooden door, scuffed pergo floor, and the twin bed she had wrapped herself into.
Her entire body quaked as Chloe let out another gust of air, shuddering and peeling the sheet away from her chest. She was drenched in sweat although the room itself was quite chilly, and every part of her body felt weak, as if she hadn't rested at all.
Running a hand through her blonde hair, pulling a few strands stuck to her forehead away, Chloe's grey eyes stole a glance at the clock. It was early in the morning, but just late enough that she knew she couldn't go back to sleep.
Her heart suddenly clenched as Carter suddenly plummeted past her, and she felt the pull, the sudden drop as she fell with him. Her eyes fluttered closed, but the Touch of Fate flowed through her once more.
Icarus Flies Too High...
"No," She whispered to the air. "Fate, I don't think I can do this." As the morning began to take hold around her, she tried to shake the foreboding she felt the moment her thoughts strayed to Dean and Sam. "There has to be another way."
Your Fate Lies Elsewhere.
The images of her dreams rushed back as blistering, white-hot pain scored across her temple.
IcarusYellowEyesIcarusNameOf BloodPathIsSetChloeFateIsMin eInTheFilthOfGotham
Chloe could barely hear her sobs over the rushing of Fate between her ears and in her mind. Images kept flooding and absorbing everything around her. Possible futures, every present, all of the past, so much at once that she couldn't possibly remember them all, and certainly couldn't process it.
Pleading silently for Fate to stop, that she would do what he had shown her, no matter the cost, the torrent of emotion and destinies far greater than her own kept coming. Each wave crashed over her with the force of a tsunami. Chloe felt herself drowning all over again, with no Amazon to help pull her from the turbulent seas.
But, the images wouldn't cease. Ever-present, filling every vein, every space between every atom, Chloe tumbled from the bed, curling up on herself as she tried to ride through the inescapable, unfathomable depth of Nabu's knowledge. Reminders of why she had had to leave everyone she'd ever cared for, reminders of why she had to make a deal with the devil to save them now. But, there were others, images she couldn't possibly understand. The span of black wings to encompass her entire vision, piercing blue eyes that looked through her soul and back again.
Someone was calling her name... through all the fire and fury, she could hear someone calling her name.
The Darkness Comes, Chosen Girl. Love Is Hard. Are you willing to sacrifice your sanity?
What was once the deep, rich tones of Fate became a cacophony of sound, a symphony of terror, of the Voice of Life, Death, Time and Retribution. Words became obsolete in the face of the Voice of Fate, driving home to the very core of Chloe's soul that if she did not follow through on the Path she had set for herself, there would be no end to her torment.
And somewhere between the the black between stars and the sun, Chloe finally agreed.
Chloe blinked as where once was more sound and sight than she could ever comprehend was... silence. And the still walls.
And then a voice. "Chloe?" Followed by a knock.
Chloe breathed. Ted.
Chloe forced herself off of the floor and to her feet, tugging down her black tank top and adjusting the waist of her black pajama pants. The pain of Fate's assault on her mind had faded, her body no longer felt sore and bone-weary, but she still felt as though her fight with Dean the night before about the value of sleep when she needed to ensure Batman could, in fact, secure Grundy for her, had been for nothing. If she had realized that her repayment for sleep would be to be lectured by a Cosmic being who had left a piece of himself in her mind, she would have definitely chosen to stay awake for the night and to talk to Dean.
Of course... Chloe swallowed and checked her face in the mirror over the tiny sink in this little studio Ted had let her crash in for the night. Talking to Dean meant that he would want to discuss the kiss from the night before. It had been plain on his face.
"Yo, Chlo, you all right in there, baby doll?" Ted's gruff, thick voice punctuated by his Gotham accent made Chloe's heart finally cease its relentless pounding.
"I..." Her voice had disappeared. Chloe swallowed and turned to face the door, sure he was leaning against it with a hand on the knob, ready to charge in if necessary. "I'm fine, Ted. I'm just going to take a shower. I'll be down soon."
A gravelly rumble of a chuckle followed, a noise that settled Chloe's nerves even more, grounding her in reality and the hardwood floor of Ted Grant's Wildcat Boxing Club & Youth Gym. "All right, just don't use all the hot water. I got a bunch o' hormonal, sweaty teens downstairs who sure as hell better shower up before they leave, or they'll stink up the entire street."
Chloe grinned in spite of herself, in spite of the weight she knew she was carrying deep in her psyche. If only Ted knew that while he had been teaching kids in the slums of Gotham the discipline of boxing where they had no other father figures and mothers who worked two or three jobs to make ends meet... Carter was plummeting from a skyscraper in Metropolis. "You got it." Chloe absently replied as she headed over to the shower.
It wasn't until she was drenched in the spray of scalding hot water that she tried to piece together the images she'd been given. The weight of Carter's impending death had been with her for the last few days, ever since the vision where she'd seen her own mother. Several times, she'd considered calling Clark or Oliver, warning them of what she'd seen, but she knew she couldn't.
Chloe couldn't see all of the consequences of her actions, but Fate had been right about one thing: she'd put herself on this Path, and now she had to see it through. Whatever the cost.
As Chloe finished her shower and dressed in a pair of black pants, tugging on a black tank top, she tried to ignore the way her heart was twisting and aching in her chest. She'd lost Oliver, she knew exactly what that meant, and she understood that it was the cost for saving everyone from the Darkness that was coming.
So why did she feel like something terribly wrong was going to happen the moment she left Gotham? And why did that cold, icy fear seem to worsen when she thought about Sam? Or Dean?
Chloe's footsteps were light scampers down to the main floor of the gym, but no one noticed her presence right away. The gym was teeming with activity. The youth of Gotham all crammed into a boxing gym, pounding away their worries, their self-esteem issues, their problems with their families, into the sand-filled boxing bags or each other. The sounds of rope barely scraping the floor as some of them jump-roped, others hitting the speedbags rigged around the room, all of them were familiar and pleasant to her, making that icy fear in her stomach melt slightly. She'd spent a month here after she and Diana arrived back in the United States, letting Ted teach her everything he knew.
If there was one thing that Chloe knew about herself, it was this: Fate's journey had led her to people who hadn't just helped her, they'd taught her how to help herself. Chloe wasn't just the eyes behind the screen anymore.
"Baby doll, there you are." Ted grinned as he waved her over from the ring, where he was taping up his hands. A younger student was bouncing on his feet behind Ted.
Chloe approached with ease, tilting her head in curiosity and leaning against the ropes of the rings, watching him. This felt good, it made the week in the swamp almost a bad dream. "Thanks for putting me up last night, Ted. I promise, as soon as Bruce calls, I'll be on my way."
"Ha! That Trumped up, suited monkey? Yeah, yeah, you keep tellin' yourself he's not gonna try to rope you into another one of his schemes." Ted laughed, a deep, throaty guffaw, and finished taping his hands, strolling towards her so he could look down at her. "I'm just glad you got yourself outta that mess. The literal and the figurative one."
"Oh, I told you I could handle a little monster trouble, Ted." Chloe winked at him, a remarkably saucy thing for her to do. In fact, she never winked at people, what the hell. She reached up, massaging her temple with her fingers as she tried to figure out where that had come from. "Anyway, I appreciate everything you've done for me. And when Bruce comes by, I promise to make sure his visit is brief." Chloe knew that while Ted didn't mind Bruce, he was far from tolerant to Bruce's brooding, possessive nature about Gotham. She couldn't blame him. If Clark had had that opinion about Metropolis, Oliver would've left ages ago...
Chloe shook the sudden pang of loss away as she heard the door open.
"Chloe?" Dean barked from somewhere behind her, and she turned, a smile plastered back on her face to greet him that morning. Only he wasn't smiling. He looked very worried. Heart-pounding, distressed, two-seconds-away-from-punching-something worried. "We got a problem. Big problem."
Chloe's eyebrows shot up, her eyes widened. "Okay, hold up, hotshot, I need a little more to go on than that. What's going on?"
"Sam's not at the motel." The moment the words were out of Dean's mouth, Chloe's stomach dropped to her feet. No. "He's not pickin' up his phone, I dunno where the fuck he is, but he's sure as hell not here." Dean looked about two seconds away from a panic attack. Not that she could blame him, but she knew her sense of foreboding wasn't coming from any place she could explain to him.
She caught sight of Ted's office, where she knew her laptop was locked away. "Okay, hang on a sec, maybe I can track his GPS on his phone." Chloe turned to Ted, motioning to his office. "Ted, I'm gonna borrow the office, let me know when Bruce gets here, please."
Without thinking, Chloe grabbed Dean's arm and tugged him towards the office as she strode purposefully in that direction. This was her fault. If she hadn't pulled Dean into this mess, maybe Sam and Dean would have worked that case together. She had to see what she could do.
Once the two of them were there, she motioned for Dean to shut the door behind her. Once she heard the thunk of privacy, she took a seat at Ted's desk and punched in the safe combination under his desk. She pulled her laptop free and powered it up."Of course, this won't help if he's turned it off, but at least it's a start." She hoped it was just that Sam was stuck in whatever previous case he had decided to work solo, but there was that nagging feeling, that sensation of Fate telling her not to press further. Chloe set her GPS tracker in motion, watching the screen as it attempted to hone in on Sam's location. "What was he working on, anyway?" Chloe glanced back at Dean, only to find him suddenly inches from her, hovering over her. She caught a whiff of him, now that he'd shaved and bathed, and felt something wash through her that she knew she was going to regret later.
I'm going to miss him... The realization hit her so hard she didn't realize she was still staring back at him, her eyes scanning his features. His jaw was set, brow furrowed, eyes focused on the screen.
"What is that?" Dean asked, only then letting his eyes wander from the screen to meet hers. From the confused look on his face, Chloe found herself woefully unequipped to deal with whatever was going on between the two of them and deal with Sam's disappearance and somehow figure out how she was going to find Flagg.
Chloe turned back to her screen, brushing the emotional response away so she could focus on more important things. "That's... the system telling me Sam's phone is off, and has been for a while." She frowned as she heard Dean growl behind her. "Do you know how he paid for wherever he was staying?"
"Cash, like always. And I checked every motel I could find a phone number for in Bludhaven. None of his known aliases stayed there, so I dunno where the fuck he could be." Dean slammed the palm of his hand into one of Ted's lockers, but it didn't seem to help him. "Dammit, Sam!"
Chloe sighed, tapping her fingers to her mouth as she pored over her mental lexicon of all her known methods for tracking individuals. That cold fear had settled back into her stomach again, that fear that something was very wrong, that she had known what was wrong, but why couldn't she remember? God, what was it?
"You'll have to go to Bludhaven." The words were out of Chloe's mouth before she even realized she'd been thinking it. The compulsion to send Dean on the way to finding his brother was so strong, she really didn't know exactly where it was coming from. She wanted to help, but there was something telling her that he had to do this. On his own. "Go. If you leave now, you'll miss any traffic from people coming back for the weekend, and you might be able to track down a lead." She tilted her head. "Is there anyone else Sam might've called about the case?"
Dean was pacing now, but that had apparently set some light bulb off. "Yeah. He mighta called Bobby. Or Ellen at the Roadhouse."
Chloe stood, crossing the small distance between them to get him to stop pacing like a caged animal. "Okay, then, that's what you do. You get in the Impala, you burn rubber to Bludhaven, and you pursue every lead you have and find your brother." Chloe might have sounded cool and calm, but firm, but on the inside, she was busy trying not to beat herself up. With every second they spent there, Sam could be in worse danger. She'd been so wrapped up dealing with her immediate needs: Grundy, Oliver, Clark, the visions Fate sent her, she couldn't seem to decode anything involving the Winchester brothers. It was almost like Fate... didn't want her to see it.
You said I was needed elsewhere. Was this what you meant? She silently begged Fate for an answer.
"Okay. No, that's... no, you're right." Dean nodded, a fist to his mouth as he mulled it over. With a plan in mind now, he seemed to have calmed down considerably. "All right. Then, we better get going - "
"Dean, I can't come with you." Chloe cut him off softly before he went any further. Her heart had jumped into her throat, but she knew exactly why she couldn't go with him. This thing with Flagg... if she didn't help everyone now...
"What?" He snapped, confusion totally invading his features. "Since when?"
"Dean, I..." How was she supposed to tell him? She couldn't explain Fate to him, when she barely understood it herself.
Chloe's computer chimed from behind her. Both of them glanced back, but Chloe's eyes immediately locked on the flashy skull and crossbones icon she'd set up. She swallowed.
It was all coming together at once. She'd found Flagg's location. Dean needed to find Sam.
Like Fate.
"What is that?" Dean's voice shook her out of her thoughts, and Chloe took a deep breath, steeling herself for what was about to come. She'd come this far... it had to be this way.
"That's... the proverbial whistle blowing on my last train out of town." Chloe said solemnly as she walked back to the desk, checking the readout. "Flagg... he just sounded the horn. He's looking for my friends, which means he basically just waved a big slab of bacon in front of my digital hounds." The wit came without effort, and it was a way for Chloe to center herself while she focused. While she prioritized.
Clark. Oliver. Lois. All of them needed her. She could see that something was coming for them. Everything had happened the way Fate had shown her up until this point, and she had no reason to doubt the visions now. If they were true... Dean could find Sam on his own, but she needed to help the others. Or there wouldn't be a world for Dean and Sam to live in much longer.
"I need to go. I have to take this opportunity," Chloe turned to look back at Dean. "I'm not gonna get another shot..." The last word barely wavered at the look on his face.
Chloe couldn't remember the last time Dean had looked at her like that, but she knew she'd seen that look before. It was one part angry, one part upset and three parts hurt.
"You're just..." Dean paused. His brain seemed to have stalled. "You're just gonna... go. You're not gonna help me."
"I want to, but... " Chloe gave up whatever half-started statement she wanted to make, and started to make another, trying for a more personal approach. "Oliver, he - "
"You don't owe himanything,Chloe." Dean snapped, one of his hands coming up to point at her, emphasizing how he felt. The vehemence actually had her left speechless for the moment. "You get that? You left him to protect him, you gave up your life. That doesn't mean your fucking existence has to revolve around him."
Chloe bristled, brow furrowed at the sudden attack on what she'd been explaining to him all week now. "Excuse me?"
"Look, you've done enough, right? This plan of yours? It's bullshit, and it's suicide." Dean was apparently on a roll, because even though she opened her mouth to interrupt him, he was still going. "This is a horrible plan!"
"Dean, I don't have a choice, I made this bed and I'm gonna lay in it. If I can do this, it will give me exactly what I need to stop the VRA." She shot him a confused and annoyed look, but her voice was pleading. "Why the sudden 180? I thought you understood."
"No, I let it go because we were stuck in a swamp, but I don't get it." Dean's frown deepened, and he scrubbed his hand down his mouth while he clearly chose his next words carefully. "I get that you wanna help them, wanna protect them, but I need to find Sammy. You could use backup, and if you can just wait for me to - "
"Woah, woah, woah, no." Chloe gasped, holding her hand up. "Absolutely not. You and Sam are not getting in the middle of this."
"You just had me stuck with you ass-deep in mud for a week!" Dean bellowed. "I'm in the middle of it!"
Chloe jumped at the shout. It was definitely not the reaction she'd expected, but it was making her wonder if she was really just... that bad at reading Dean. Silence hung between them like a thick curtain, but she didn't know how to part it. He seemed just as shocked by his reaction as she did.
Finally, she took a deep breath, struggling to bridge that gap. "I am sorry I involved you. It was necessary, but... clearly, Sam needs you. But I have to do this." She shook her head as she felt her eyes warm slightly. "I wish I could make you understand, but... it's not your job to worry about me."
"And what if I want to, huh? How exactly do you plan on stoppin' me? I'm not allowed to care that you're gonna go get yourself killed and I have to go track down Sam alone?"
"Dean, you can't possibly care about me even remotely as much as you care about Sam, so I don't see a choice for you to make. Just go." Chloe rattled off, knowing that it sounded harsh.
There was another heavy pause as multiple things happened at once. Dean had suddenly stalked over, grabbed Chloe by the arm with one hand. His other hand slipped into her hair and before she knew it, her lips were captured in another breathtaking kiss, one that bruised her lips with anger, worry, confusion, more than she really could possibly figure out about Dean Winchester in just one repeat performance.
And then just as suddenly, she was disheveled and mourning the loss of his lips on hers as he stepped away.
Dean fished into his jacket pocket and pulled free his keys, looking at her with a hard, unforgiving gaze. "Don't you dare tell me how I'm supposed to feel, okay?" He huffed, and for a second, Chloe wondered if he'd had any idea he was going to do that at all. "Just... I expect another bitchy phone call from you, got it? Because I'm sure Sammy's gonna wanna kick your ass for not coming to his pansy-ass rescue, too. But, I expect you to be careful. Take care of yourself." He opened the door to the office just in time to nearly run into Bruce. Swivelling past the billionaire without so much as an 'excuse me', Chloe watched him go with her heart aching, not really sure what to do with the swimming emotions in her chest.
It was no surprise that even after Dean was gone, and she was still staring blankly at the doorway, Bruce had to actually wave his hand in front of her with a charming grin to get her attention. Dammit, Dean.
I wasn't supposed to miss you.
"Lonely is the night, when you find yourself alone. Your demons come to light, and your mind is not your own."
Dean sighed as he pulled the Impala up to the deserted access road under an overpass just outside of Bludhaven. It was dreary, rainy, even in the midday, but after checking every single motel he could, he was completely out of options.
He hopped out of the car and flipped his phone open, ignoring the song still playing on the radio as he dialed the Roadhouse for the sixth time.
"Ellen, it's me again. Any chance you've heard from him?" He sighed. "I swear, it's like looking for my dad all over again. I'm losin' my mind here." His heart raced as he listened to the woman on the other line ask him, of course, if he'd heard from Sam, but his mind was still racing with all the reasons he should've been helping his brother go after that lead for Ava, and instead had gotten himself wrapped up with Chloe. Again. "No, I've called him a thousand times. It's nothing but voicemails. I don't know where he went or why." He ignored the plop of a raindrop on his head as he looked around absently. "Sam's just gone."
He didn't see the newspaper that floated by, stating that mandatory curfew was now going into effect in Metropolis... three days after Chloe had told Dean it would happen.
"Lonely is the night, when there's no one left to call, you feel the time is right, says the writing's on the wall..."
Six hours away from Bludhaven, in a secure location just outside of Metropolis, Chloe Sullivan stalked the red-lit halls of the Suicide Squad's not-so-secret lair. The screech of metal being bent beyond its original design was music to her ears as Grundy tore through the facility, allowed complete free reign to do as he wished. Once she'd given the Gold K sample to Zatanna to analyze, the magician had been able to enchant Grundy to full cognitive capability and explained the situation.
Two black-clad guards came from around the corner, and Chloe pulled both her berettas with ease. She took a deep breath, squeezing the triggers smoothly, and took out their kneecaps before they could raise their guns. She heard the echoes of a very familiar mentor reminding her to stay calm, breathe through each shot.
With even pacing and a steady heart, she took her time as she made her way through the facility. She avoided more thugs than she encountered, and every time, she always fired a shot that was hardly lethal, but definitely debilitating enough to keep them out of the way.
Finally, she'd reached her destination. She grabbed hold of her smartphone and slipped it free from its holster on her hip as she strolled into Flagg's office. He was waiting for her, arms clasped behind his back.
"Well, well, well, Miss Sullivan. Looks like I need to fire a few people, because you were supposed to be dead." Flagg smiled coldly.
"Don't bother," Chloe smoothly replied, the barrel of her gun trained on him more for effect rather than anything else. "Because, in about fifteen seconds, all of your men will be reporting to me. I can take care of HR decisions from now on."
The bright, icy blue eyes of Rick Flagg barely even hinted surprise or concern at her threat. "Is that so? And how do you figure that will be happening?"
"Because while my friend, the illustrious Solomon Grundy, has been pillaging your facility," Chloe held up her phone, checking the display. The transfer was complete. "I've been uploading a virus into your missile system. It gives me full control of them, and will prevent you from ever using them to kill anyone ever again." Chloe slipped the phone back in her pocket, gun still trained.
Flagg tilted his head, nodding with a levelheaded motion that told her he understood what she was doing. "And... what exactly is the endgame to all of this, might I ask?"
Chloe smiled, making a reminder that once negotiation was over, she needed to make sure to send Lois a wedding present. "I need your help. Saving those heroes you see as freedom fighters from the real enemy."
And That Was the End of Solomon Grundy...
To Be Continued In... The Roads We Take.
