Oliver was acting weird.

Chloe looked at her companion for the nth time. At the moment he was admiring the display of jars and beak-rimmed dishes from the Bronze Age. In a minute, if the pattern continued, he would glance up, shot her a quick grin and move to the next glass case, that one filled with coins or pottery. She'd never been with Oliver to Gallery openings or Museums before, but she knew well enough what he was doing, and it was not admiring the collection on display.

Wow. From random kisses to Oliver Queen's version of a brush off in under three hours, that's a new record, Sullivan. Congratulations.

The pang next to her heart hurt. Annoyed with herself for letting herself react to Oliver's hot and cold behavior, Chloe followed a trio of elderlies to the next room without looking back. The old woman pointed toward the farther display of small statues carved in stone and chattered in excited German. Chloe nodded and shrugged, until her new friend released her arm, visibly disappointed with her lack of enthusiasm for the statuary.

Free, Chloe walked toward a closer arrangement of bronze and enamel jewelry. Even with the three quarters style in favor millennia ago, the delicate pendant in the shape of a bird of prey caught her eye. The artist had rolled the metal into thin filaments then braided and curved them into lively wings.

"The favorite animal of a princess History forgot."

A shiver of awareness ran down her spine. Chloe linked her hands in front of her to stop their sudden shaking. Slowly, she lifted her gaze from the precious bird to the striking reflection in the glass case. Black eyes absorbed the light around her and engulfed her in heat. She vaguely thought of the mouse hypnotized by the cobra before he devoured her, then her previous misgivings evaporated when the smooth voice rose again, closer to her ear. "The eye is made of malachite. A very unusual choice for the time. But she was an unusual woman. It's the same color than your eyes…"

The voice all around her, drawing and unnerving at the same time. As if her instincts told her to flee, and her body refused to obey for the volatile promise of passion. The mouse and the cobra again. Her sense of space failed her and with it, her capacity to breathe. All a sudden, there was only that voice, those fathomless eyes, and the faint echo of a call from long ago…

Oliver's hand in her back almost sent her careening into the abyss.

"Here you are. Will you introduce your new friend?"

"Randall Savage."

An eastern accent she hadn't noticed before gave the name a sharp, dangerous edge. Chloe instinctively leaned into Oliver who firmed his grip on her hip.

"Oliver Queen."

"And this rare creature is…"

"Making us late. We're meeting our private guide for the tour of the Akropolis in a few minutes. It was nice meeting you, Bey Savage."

Oliver didn't even wait for a stern "Likewise" to come out before he stirred her toward the exit. Chloe untangled herself from the firm arm he had around her as soon as they stepped into the street.

The sun blinded her, making her blink furiously. The gesture annoyed the dozen bees that had taken up residence in her ears. Her first step on her own was even less glorious. Oliver steadied her and kept his hand on her as they progressed up the street toward the parking lot where they'd left the car. "I can walk on my own, Oliver."

Her wobbly legs contradicted the comment, but she was too miffed to listen. After a few steps, the fresh air flushed the sudden dizziness away. Feeling more like herself, she turned toward the man who watched her like a hawk.

"Since when are you rude to people like this?"

"I don't like to share?"

The winning smile and unassuming shrug failed to disarm her. "Share what? I'm not a prize to win or something you possess. You've been ignoring me for the best part of an hour. Randall was only explaining about a pendant I admired."

"Randall hum? I bet you didn't even know his name until I came over but it didn't stop him to drool all over you."

He sounded jealous. Don't read more into this than there is, Chloe. You've walked that road with Clark. It leads nowhere than to heartbreak. And yet… And yet, despite what her teen-self had wanted to believe, Clark had never looked at her or made her feel the way Oliver did.

The man on her thoughts offered a sheepish smile this time. "Sorry? I'll apologize if we ever see him again, and buy him a drink. And I promise I wasn't ignoring you."

"Fine."

He nudged her shoulder.

"I said it's fine."

He did it again and Chloe elbowed him back. She sighed in defeat. The famous Oliver Queen's charm should be illegal. It worked way too well. She frowned when he started the car, flashing to turn left instead of right.

"Do you at least know where we're going?"

"Of course I do. Though I may have embellished the touring part, we do have access to the premises." He stopped in some unmarked area she was pretty sure wasn't meant for parking. Oliver exited the car and came to her side to open her door. "Come on, we go to the Sanctuary of Asclepius first. This way."

Chloe stopped resisting and accepted his help to exit the jeep. The brilliant afternoon and the fabulous ruins before them made it impossible to hold a grudge. She'd read about the famous Altar of Zeus and Athena. It was impossible to come to Bergama, research the museum and not hear about the feud between Germany and Turkey about the Pergamon Frieze now reconstructed in the Pergamon Museum in Berlin. But the place Oliver had chosen to start their tour was nowhere near the colossal colonnades.

She could see the dented crown on the top of the hill, and more ruins at her feet. Enthralled, Chloe walked slowly between the rows of columns darkened by the new city's pollution and age.

The sight was incredible. Limestone sticks cut into the blue sky like proud arms saluting the gods of the Ancient World. Where stones had disappeared, grass had taken their places, a vibrant green of life in a sea of grey and white.

At the center of the Temple of Telesphorus, she could almost hear whispered tales of rich patients coming from all over the empire to bathe in the spring waters, hoping for a benevolent god to cure their illness.

The circular steps stone of the Pergamon Theatre awed her even more with their arrangement of military precision.

Oliver insisted she sat on a block taller than she was—he had to give her a boost so she could reach the top— so he could take her picture. She hiked back and forth between each structure, touching the stone, marveling at the construction, wondering how many people long gone had come here and pray.

"Let's go this way…"

"There's nothing in this direction, Chloe. We're the last ones left here, we'll come back tomorrow on our way to the Akropolis if you want, it's nearly closing time…"

"Just a few minutes, look at all those small columns, it's as if they had only uncovered the top of them, and—"

She never felt the ground give until it was too late.

The floor of the… cave? Cistern? Was mellower than she imagined. Then it moved. For a split second, Chloe feared she was going to fall deeper underground. She stopped breathing entirely. The surface under her shifted and groaned.

"Ollie?"

"Fuck. It hurts…"

The square shape above her head glimmered like a beacon of hope. Too high. Too small. Down in their hell hole, blackness reigned unchallenged. Chloe inhaled sharply. Don't think about tombs. You're not buried alive.

The air was stale. Humid. Her lungs burned from the lack of oxygen. Chloe scrambled to her hands and feet. Her effort tore another growl out of Oliver while her wrist exploded in pain.

"Oliver?"

He didn't answer. In the dark, her other senses worked overtime to pick up the anchoring feeling of his body under hers.

"Ollie? Are you all right?"

The light pants of his breath. "No."

The smell of decay said fear.

"I think I broke my back."

"Oh God…" The whimper escaped before she could gulp it down. They were lost in the dark, lost in a foreign country, too far for Clark to hear her. Maybe if she yelled loud enough…

"Help!"

Something fumbled with her shirt. "Chloe. Chloe, stop. Listen to me."

She grasped Oliver's hand in hers. "I can… get us out of here. But you have to heal me."

His fingers crushed hers. Her wrist screamed in agony. "Just promise me you'll stop when the bones are mended, like you've been practicing with Emil. I can deal with the rest."

"I… I can't control it."

She couldn't control her power. It came and went as it pleased. Sometimes leaving her patient with a bruise, sometimes fully healed. If only she'd taken more time to practice. Emil had asked her to. She'd promised the guys that she would. She'd promised Lois. She'd never found the time and broke her word.

"You have to. I can't get you out of here if you're…"

Dead. She died when she spent too much energy. She'd die buried alive in this hole if she didn't try anyway. She wanted to cry. Oliver squeezed her hand again.

"Chloe, it's going to hurt."

"I… I know." She forced confidence into her voice. "It'll pass. Just… Wait for me to come back?"

"Always. I'll be here when you wake up. I promise."

Chloe closed her eyes. She looked for that special place into her heart where Oliver lived, all sunny smiles, easy laughs and warm brown eyes.

The familiar pull started its tingle from her heart to the small of her back, her womb and then spread through her whole body. Light illuminated her lids and suddenly pain flared, so fast and hot her scream got stuck in her throat. It throbbed inside her forever, for an excruciating minute, a second, then she felt Oliver's chest swelled under her cheek as he gasped in relief. Light poured off her in gentle waves to knit bones, repair tendons and muscles, close gashes and cuts, soften bruises…

"Chloe, stop, stop, that's enough… Chloe, stop."

She felt cold except for that knot of heat that pulsed on her hip, cold from the inside out. The ground was damp under her bare legs, fetid water saturating her clothes, so cold…

Her consciousness was ebbing. With it she felt herself slide into oblivion, away from the hurt, away from the dark world, away from Ollie…

"Hurt… Cold…"

"I'm sorry… I'm so sorry. I'm here. I'm not going anywhere."

"Sleep…"

"Whatever you want."

She didn't have the strength to answer. The light was fading already, Oliver sitting up, his arms around her, strong, safe. Chloe let herself fall into oblivion.