--9--
Oliver sat up now, giving Chloe a once over. "Good God, you're soaked!" He glanced out the window to the storm that had been raging for over a week, kicking himself for not noticing it earlier. He'd been so distracted by the pain. "Come on," he said, pulling her off her knees. "We're getting you dried off."
"Ollie, I'm fine."
"Your lips are turning blue. I'm so sorry. I didn't even notice," he apologized, hating himself for being so self-absorbed as he dragged her into the bathroom. "Here," he started pulling her coat off of her, draping it over the shower rod. He pulled a towel out of the closet and started gently drying her hair off for her. 'Jeez, what did you do? Walk here?"
Chloe didn't answer.
"Chloe," he said seriously.
"I took a cab. Relax," she said with a roll of her eyes, taking the towel from him. "I can do that myself, thanks." He would have thought she was irritated with him if he hadn't seen the corner of her mouth twitch humorously.
"Whatever you say," he told her, taking a step back. He studied her face carefully for the first time that night. There were dark circles under her eyes and she looked as though she hadn't slept in days. It might be because of the rain--he couldn't be sure--but it looked like she had been crying. Recently. He realized she had to be freezing and he left her for a moment to get one of his sweatshirts for her.
When he returned she'd folded the towel and set it on the sink. She accepted the sweatshirt, gratefully, zipping it up all the way, laughing at how huge it was on her.
"Chloe, what are you doing here?" he repeated, leading her out of the bathroom and back to the couch. "Do you want some coffee or tea or something?"
She shook her head. She sat down wearily and Oliver was seized with the image of the Greek titan, Atlas, struggling to hold up the world for eternity.
"What's wrong, Chloe?" he asked, sitting down beside her. Chloe leaned tiredly against him and his stomach tightened. Tentatively he wrapped his arms around her. What had happened? Was it something Luthor had done?
"I needed a friend," she said finally.
He rubbed her back soothingly for a few minutes before realizing she didn't intend to say anything else.
"Why?" he said.
Chloe didn't look at him, just buried her forehead in his neck.
"Chloe."
She sighed. "I'm scared."
His heart clenched. "Of what?" Your homicidal fiance? Please say yes.
"You remember I went to see Doctor Emil?"
The memory flooded back to him. Was she finally going to explain what that had been about? It had taken all his willpower to keep his promise to her and not look into it. "Yeah."
She waited a long moment before replying, and Oliver felt something wet hit his skin. He lifted her head up. "Hey," he said frowning, wiping the tear from her cheek. "It's okay. Whatever it is, we'll figure it out, okay?"
She nodded, but more tears welled up in her eyes.
"Chloe, what is it?"
She closed her eyes, unable to look at him. "What do you know about meteor rock?"
"What kind of meteor rock?" he asked darkly, a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach.
"The Smallville kind."
Oliver closed his eyes in horror. Hamilton had filled him in on the special qualities of those rocks. They had suspicions that they were being used in the drug produced by the same lab he'd been to that night. They'd retrieved a small sample for analyzation before destroying the rest. "Chloe, what happened?"
She bit her lip, turning her head away from him. "You might say I've had more than the average amount of exposure to them over the years."
"Oh god," he said slowly, realizing what she must mean.
"Dr. Hamilton says I may have a mutation developing. It's been dormant for years without my knowing it."
"What is it?"
She shook her head. "I don't know."
He didn't say anything for a long while. "How did you know something was wrong?"
She bit her lip nervously. "It doesn't happen a lot, but...twice now I've accidentally hurt myself. Nothing serious," she added quickly, "I dropped a hair dryer on my foot and it bruised really badly. And then the other time I was cutting an apple and I sliced my thumb slightly."
He watched her impatiently. "And?" he encouraged, scared of where this might be going."
"I watched the bruise blossom into a dark purple spot almost instantly, and then I watched as it vanished just as quickly. My thumb was bleeding one second and the next second it was perfect, unmarred skin."
In Oliver's mind, he could have seen this going a million times more badly. He actually felt relieved. Healing quickly? That seemed like a blessing more than a curse. But he could tell something else was bothering Chloe. "What else aren't you telling me?" he asked.
She shook her head, a few more unwanted tears escaping.
"Chloe."
"I just--" her voice caught in her throat. "I'm scared. I've encountered dozens of meteor infected people over the years and not one of them didn't end up certifiably insane and almost all of them were homicidal. I don't want to lose my mind," she trailed into a pitiful, quiet wail, burying her face back in his chest.
"Oh, Chloe," Oliver said soothingly. "Hey. That's not going to happen, okay? Not you. You'll be fine."
"Clark says the others turned out like they did because they were already on the brink of sanity as it was but I don't know. I think that stuff does something to your mind."
Oliver forced the image of the 'test subjects' they'd found that evening out of his mind. He squeezed his arms around her more tightly. "Chloe, I'm sure your friend Clark is right. You are not going to end up like that. Whatever's happening, you're going to be fine, okay?" he stroked her hair softly. "It's going to be all right."
Chloe hiccuped in reply.
When she eventually settled down, Oliver had to ask the question he dreaded. "You haven't told Lex about this, have you?"
She shook her head silently.
"And you don't plan to, do you?"
She shook her head a second time.
"Chloe," he began wearily. If she didn't trust him with something like this, how could she marry him?
"Don't, Ollie. I know what you're thinking, but please stop. Lex has had his life threatened by so many of these people. I don't want him to look at me any differently."
"You're going to marry him, Chloe," he ground out.
"I know. I know," he could hear her voice getting more upset with each word. "But I just can't tell him! I can't!"
"Hey, hey, hey," he said, shushing her and trying to calm her again. "It's okay. You can do whatever you want, but promise me you're going to let me help you with this one, all right?"
"Thanks, Ollie," she said quietly.
He wondered to himself what had brought her to him. Why was his door the one she'd chosen to knock on at three in the morning when she was lost and scared?
He kissed the top of her head.
"It's going to be all right."
After yet another long silence, Oliver nudged her slightly. "Chlo, do you need to stay here for tonight?"
She nodded slowly. "Lex is out of town for a conference for a few days. I didn't want to be alone."
"Okay, Sidekick," he said, liking the nickname for her. "Come on. Let's get you to bed. You're exhausted."
She smiled softly. "Thank you, Ollie." She allowed him to pick her up and carry her, too tired to protest. "I haven't slept in days."
"How long have you known?" he asked.
"Dr. Hamilton confirmed it this afternoon. I went to see him again."
"How long have you known?" he repeated.
She sighed as he pulled back the blankets on his bed for her. "I don't even know anymore." She gave him a tired, worn look when he laid her down. He started to leave her but she grabbed his hand. "Stay," she pleaded, almost inaudibly.
He wanted to. He knew it was a really bad idea, that he was getting in so far over his head with her that there was no hope he wouldn't drown now. But one look at her told him she needed him. He nodded, climbing into bed beside her and pulling her back against his chest, arms constricting around her.
She gave a great shuddering sigh in response, clearly still on the verge of tears.
He ran his thumb back and forth over the back of her hand. "It's going to be all right, Sidekick. It really is." Don't marry him. I beg you.
Author's Comment: Signs you have a problem: You technically have total control over your characters' fates, and yet you find yourself pitying them for all the hell you put them through.
Sorry, characters. I love you.
BlueSuedeShoes
P.S. No, I don't belong in a padded cell. I just sound like it. ;)