[A/N: Last chapter! Hope everyone enjoys!]
The pain was what woke him up. Hot, burning pain that radiated from his arm and spread up his shoulder and into his chest, making breathing torture.
"Bart, can you hear me?" someone asked, and Bart fought to open his eyes. He blinked up at Oliver, surprised to see how haggard and tired the team leader looked.
"Hey," Bart sighed, grimacing as another wave of pain shot through his body.
"Relax, you're at the hospital," Oliver said.
"I'm fine," Bart lied, struggling to sit up. His vision blacked out and he felt himself fall back. Oliver was saying something, but Bart was more focused on breathing. It felt like something was crushing his chest, keeping his lungs from expanding. He heard someone yelling, then blackness.
He wasn't sure how much time passed, but the next time he woke up Bart felt something inflate his chest with air, then slowly deflate. Panicked, his eyes shot open, looking around in alarm. He was in a hospital room, surrounded by machines that blinked and hissed at him. The sound of a door opening and footsteps hurrying towards him ratcheted up his fear, and he could hear his heartbeat soar.
"Bart! You have to calm down!" Oliver ordered, leaning over him. "One of your lungs collapsed, so the doctor inserted a chest tube."
Bart looked down, seeing a plastic tube snake out of the side of his chest and towards one of the machines. He reached out, trying to touch it, but Oliver took his hand and laid it back on the bed.
"Once your lung has a chance to heal we can remove it," Oliver explained. "You're still pretty sick."
Bart tugged the oxygen mask off his face. "How bad?" he whispered.
Oliver sighed. "You pushed yourself too hard."
"Had...to find Lex," Bart argued. He knew he had been going pretty hard, but it was worth it.
"Don't worry about Lex, the cops have him in custody in relation to the bombing at his factory," Oliver said.
"Clark?" Bart asked, fearing the answer.
The door suddenly opened and AC, Victor and Chloe walked in.
"It's good to see you awake," Victor said.
Bart looked at Chloe, expecting to see anger or resentment in her eyes, but was surprised to see worry instead.
"Clark's still unconscious back at Watchtower, but he just needs more time to purge the kryptonite from his system," Oliver said. Bart nodded, blinking back tears. Clark was still hurt. He hadn't fixed anything at all.
Chloe walked forwards, sitting on the edge of his bed and taking his hand in hers. "Clark's going to be okay," she said. "Believe me, he's going to be okay."
Bart stared hard at the ceiling, fighting back the emotions swirling around inside him. He had never felt so guilty in his life.
"We'll let you get some rest," Oliver said, leading AC and Victor out of the room.
Chloe began running her fingers through his hair, her blue eyes full of concern. "What were you thinking?" she asked.
"All my fault," Bart replied, finally looking at her. "It's...all my fault." The guilt was suddenly too much to bear. Bart felt the tears begin to slide down his cheeks.
"It's okay," Chloe said, leaning forward and wrapping him in her arms. She was careful not to jostle him, but knew he needed the physical contact.
"Shh, shh, I'm here," she said, holding him as the sobs wracked his body. "Just breathe."
"He almost died because of me," Bart cried.
"Clark would've done the exact same thing for any one of us, it's just who he is," Chloe said. "You can't blame yourself for an accident."
Slowly Bart's tears slowed. "Do you blame me?" he asked.
Chloe straightened up, looking at him hard. "I could never blame you for what happened. I'm just glad you're alright."
"I need...to see him," he said.
"I'm not sure that's such a good idea. You're still pretty sick," Chloe replied.
"Please. I'll go by myself if I have to," Bart begged.
"Just rest for right now. Once you're feeling better we can take you back to Watchtower," Chloe replied. Bart nodded. He felt the drugs in his IV kicking in and slowly dropped off to sleep.
Oliver walked back into the room, grabbing a chair and sitting down next to Bart's bed.
"What did the doctor say?" Chloe asked.
"He's lucky to be alive," Oliver replied. "Pneumonia, collapsed lung, four broken ribs, broken arm, dislocated shoulder and severe dehydration."
"He's exhausted," Chloe said, brushing the hair away from Bart's forehead. He looked so fragile lying there, monitors and tubes surrounding him. She placed the oxygen mask back on his face.
"It'll be a long time before he's fully healed," Oliver said.
"He wants to see Clark," Chloe said, looking at Oliver.
"He's still too weak to move," Oliver replied. "But I'll see if Clark is up for a visit."
In his fevered dreams, Bart watched the explosion play over and over again, all with the same ending; Clark floating in the water, unconscious and bleeding.
Bart jerked awake, looking around him. Slowly his brain caught up with his surroundings. He was still in the hospital, the machines beeping at him. He slipped the oxygen mask off and gathered what little strength he had to throw off the blankets and slide his legs out of bed, forcing himself to stand up. Once he was vertical he nearly passed out but he stubbornly clung to consciousness. He had to see Clark.
The chest tube was attached to a small pump, and he was thankful it was on a cart with wheels. Using it for support, he grabbed his IV bag from the pole and headed for the door.
The simple action of putting one foot in front of the other nearly drained him as he made his way down the hall. He was pushing the cart with his right hand, his left arm in a cast and sling.
"What are you doing out of bed?" a nurse demanded, hurrying towards him.
"I have to go," Bart replied. He stumbled but the nurse was there to catch him, slowly lowering him to the floor.
"I need a gurney!" she yelled. Bart felt like he was floating as someone lifted him off the floor and whisked him away. The sensation of running lulled him into a hazy realm between sleep and awake.
"He was trying to leave," someone said, sounding like Clark. He was laid down on a bed, an oxygen mask placed on his face which instantly made breathing easier. He felt them check his chest tube then put something cold over his heart. A slow beeping noise suddenly filled the room.
"He's stabilizing," someone else commented.
"He didn't want to stay there," a third voice said, and Bart thought it sounded like Chloe. "He wanted to see you."
"I'm just glad I got there when I did," Clark replied. Bart didn't want to believe that Clark was really okay and standing there with the team. He forced his eyes open, squinting in the bright light.
"Bart? Can you hear me?" Oliver asked.
Bart pulled off the oxygen mask, licking his dry lips. "Yah," he croaked. "What...happened?"
"You were trying to leave the hospital," Clark replied, smiling at him.
"Being stubborn as usual," Victor teased.
Bart stared at Clark, unsure if he was dreaming or not. Clark looked okay. He looked more than okay, he looked like he had before the bomb went off.
"How are you feeling?" Chloe asked.
"Fine," Bart replied, trying to sit up and grimacing in pain as his body refused.
Clark was there, hand resting on his shoulder. "You shouldn't try to move for a while," he said.
"Good idea," Bart wheezed, trying to breathe through the tightness in his chest.
"The whole point of telling you to rest means you actually stay in bed and rest," Oliver said.
"You know me...always looking for an adventure," Bart replied. He was already tired even though he'd been fully awake for only a few minutes.
"Get some sleep, we'll be here when you wake up," Clark said. Bart nodded, exhaustion pulling him under. The last thing he saw before he fell asleep was his teammates all gathered around his bed, watching over him. Finally everything was back to normal, or as close to it as possible.