Epilogue
Chloe wiped her eyes slowly, already feeling more tears filling them. The night was almost over and it couldn't have been a worse news that greeted the dawn of another day. They'd lost a member of the team, a friend.
Her eyes fell on the body draped in long white sheets on her Watchtower desk. There were damp patches of blood coming through and she didn't have the heart to unwrap them just a little and peer at his face again.
How did it go so wrong?
That was the question plaguing her mind ever since Victor and Dinah came back with an unconscious Oliver and the news that they'd lost one of their own. Chloe's heart had never been so heavy in her life before. To see a long-time friend, such a young and lively man whose kindness exceeded most others's, just lying unmoving in front of her... her mind hadn't fully processed the knowledge that she'd never see him again.
Someone started to sob quietly at her side. She looked down tearfully at AC breaking down as he sat on the couch, his face between his hands. Dinah held her jaw tight to suppress her emotions as she hugged him while Victor stood a few feet away, suddenly turning to the window, waving a weak fist in the air while drops of water ran down his face.
Chloe realized, feeling as if someone had knocked the wind out of her, that things would never be the same for them again. Lex had done what he'd always wanted. The Justice League was dead, lying along with their friend. How could they even go on, after that?
She had to grab the nearest table to keep standing, she forced herself to take a deep breath and calm down. Carefully, avoiding the sight of the desk again, she rounded it and walked up the stairs. It took her longer than necessary, her legs felt like anchors.
If that was how bad it was affecting her, she couldn't even begin to imagine how he was going to feel when he woke up. To realize that the boy you'd always looked out for and considered a brother was gone... he would be destroyed.
Poor Oliver.
She'd be there for him, she knew, she'd be there. To give him support and a shoulder to lean on because he would need her if he wished to come back from the horrible pit they'd all been thrown into. She did too, giving her love and support had always been something she was good at and it also helped her heal.
The door swung open without a sound, she held it ajar for an instant then pushed it further in when her eyes met with an empty bed. His name died on her lips, she stood motionless in the middle of the bedroom for a long moment, swinging from side to side without even noticing it.
Oliver had disappeared.
Bruce Wayne drew out a sigh, stuffing his hands into his pants pockets. His formal suit suddenly felt too tight to breathe properly, he shouldn't have worn his tie. He shook his head ever so slightly, standing back from the amassing crowd ahead, their backs turned to him.
The tall platform and the large portraits of Lex Luthor unnerved him and he couldn't help fixing his hair a bit too nervously as the wind blew in soft whispers around them. He heard the chants from the crowd, a bunch of scared people fed with the beautiful lies of the bald politician.
He should have known, he had known all along, if he were to be honest. It explained his pre-announced presence at this political meeting tonight, but it didn't make it easier to bear knowing what was going to happen.
The results hadn't come out publicly yet, although Luthor and Hill probably knew already. Bruce wondered if he should have done something. He had given up, years ago, trying to actively help his country. Not once since then had he regretted his decision to quit. Even know, with his desire to step back up once again, his mind kept reminding him of the lessons he had learned the hard way during a horrible chain of events that happened so long ago already.
No. He wouldn't come back. He had sworn on her grave.
His brow furrowed when feet scratched against the ground behind him. Bruce turned around, unable to hide his surprise when he fell almost face to face with Oliver Queen. He was about to greet the young man when, upon further inspection, he noticed the abnormal line he was using as he walked.
Oliver was moving almost aimlessly, his eyes staring ahead, fixed on a spot behind Bruce and yet they looked far, far away. The blond was about to walk past Bruce without a word, as if he hadn't seen him, when Gotham's star spotted an alarming mark on the other man.
"Hey, hey!" he whispered, grabbing Oliver by the shoulders to keep him from going. Bruce smiled gently. "Oliver, are you sure you're okay, there? You look worn out, fella."
The younger man blinked, his eyes finally taking in Bruce's face. It struck the latter, like a harsh blow, the familiarity of the emotions filling Oliver's eyes. "What's going on? Oliver? You can tell me anything." he gave up any pretence and spoke to him like a father comforting his grown child.
Oliver remained forbidden, blinking away the tears as he looked past Bruce. The other man looked back for an instant just as the crowd cheered, louder than before. Lex had gone onto the stage and waved at his supporters.
Bruce turned towards his companion, noting the rage in his eyes. His breath hitched when he saw Oliver's hand fishing into his side pocket and retrieving a silver handgun. "Why don't you give me that?" he proposed, already using his hands to both keep Oliver from doing anything he would later regret and to hide the weapon from sight. "Where did you even get it, Oliver?" he asked, keeping a crisp smile, hoping to get him to relax.
Oliver tugged against Bruce's grip vainly, a stray tears started to roll down his cheek as he gazed at Lex standing proudly on the stage. He kept silent, his anguish unable to be voiced or expressed in any way for the moment.
Bruce cleared his throat. "Maybe... maybe you should tend this." he nodded to the large red mark on Oliver's shirt. "Come with me, I know someone who-"
"Ollie!"
This time they both turned towards the voice coming from the corner of the street. The shape of an African-American man trotted towards them. The stranger slowed down as he noticed Bruce's presence. The two of them gazed at each other warily for an instant.
"Come on, come with me." The man whispered as he patted Oliver's shoulder. "Chloe's worried sick,"
His voice was raw, Bruce remarked, as if he had been crying not long before. His knowledge was limitedbut he could recognize the signs. Something terrible had happened to them.
Oliver closed his eyes, his shoulders deflating. "Come on," the dark-skinned man repeated. Oliver let himself be led away, giving up the gun to Bruce who barely managed to catch it before it hit the ground.
Bruce watched them humbly walk away, his eyes wider than usual as he felt the tightness of his chest. On one occasion, the stranger looked back towards him and nodded. "Mr. Wayne." he said quietly.
"Gentlemen." he replied just as courtly, swallowing hard.
The disappeared the same way they came. It wouldn't have been difficult for Bruce to track down the place where they were returning to but he found himself rooted at his spot. One of his hands covered his mouth, the other one shaking as he concealed the weapon under his jacket and pulled out his cellphone instead.
The line rang three times before a familiar voice picked up. "Master Bruce! I suppose you're aware of Lex Luthor's-"
"Alfred?"
The older man paused, sensing the distress in his voice. "Are you having problems, sir?"
Bruce cupped his forehead, wetting his lips. "I... I think it's time for our friend to come back."
The line was completely silent for a full minute. "You're serious." Alfred realized. "Master Bruce, may I remind you of the outcome of our friend's last appearance eight years ago?"
He closed his eyes tightly. "I have to, Alfred. They need my help."
"Do they?" Alfred wondered. "They looked to be doing very well by themselves, you do not need to come in the middle of all this madness again."
"You haven't seen them tonight. They need my help, Alfred." he emphasized. "I have to come back, I have to."
Alfred's disappointed expression filled his eyes even though they were thousands of miles apart. "Very well." the older man acquiesced. "Could you at least think about the promises that you're about to break? I'm not certain Rachel would approve."
Bruce swallowed hard. "I'll be home tomorrow in the morning. Goodbye, Alfred." he hung up immediately and walked off to his chauffeured car without letting himself rehearse the old painful memories threatening to overcome him.
He slipped inside the black sedan and leaned over his knees, closing his eyes. "Where to sir?" his employee broke through his thoughts.
"Gotham."
"Cyborg to Watchtower."
Her hands gripped the edges of the table tightly. "Report in, Cyborg." she held her breath.
"I've got him with me," she blew out her lungs slowly. "He's in one piece, shaken but... aren't we all, tonight?"
She nodded. "Get him back to me, please." she murmured softly.
"Roger. Cyborg out."
Chloe set her audio-helmet back on the table and took two steps back, blinking when she realized she was starting to doze off. The night had been long and the emotions weren't helping in her sleep-deprived state.
Strong sudden lights caught her eyes. She noticed the TV had been left on and nobody had paid attention to it for hours. The sound was mutedbut the image was all she needed to feel an uncontrollable anger filling her to the core.
The journalists were probably going crazy right now. Chloe herself was, for much different reasons however.
'Lex Luthor Elected President of the United States of America'
She let out a loud cry of rage, her hand throwing the remote so hard onto the screen that it broke the image and shut down the TV. Chloe was surrounded by the dimness of the room, her entire body shaking with grief and wrath.
Bart Allen was dead, the League was annihilated and the country was in jeopardy while the smug bastard grinned at the camera as if he hadn't shot down an innocent boy just hours earlier. She couldn't accept that.
Lex Luthor was not going to be unpunished. Not under her watch.
THE END
We're ending this second book on a tragic note and the sequel will be quite angsty as well but you have to remember that everything will be worth it in the end. (I insist on that point)
On that note, I'd like to thank all the people who supported me while writing this fic. Times were hard and I got through it in the end, that's all thanks to you.
There will be a one-shot posted next week, setting up the sequel 'Public Enemy' as the third book in the Eternal Wrath series. Though, I can't tell you when I will start posting it because the truth is that I barely started writing its first chapters.
My muse is in conflict. A part of me wants to go on with Eternal Wrath while the other needs a break from it and feels the need to (finally) complete my Stolen Future saga. Honestly, things could go either way so I will only say what I'm sure of: It might be months before the next updatebut I assure you that I'm not giving up on anything. Never.