DISCLAIMER: I do not own any of the characters you might recognize in this fic. DC Comics, Warner Brothers, the CW, and a lot more people than I can possibly name here do and I am making no gains from this. I'm just borrowing them and I'll put them back when I'm finished, maybe a little the worse for wear, but I'll give them back. Please don't sue me.
Author's Note: This bunny bit me while I was watching Season 8 when Oliver started his downward spiral. It's obviously set in an AU, since none of this happened in canon. If AU stories offend you, then give this one a pass, okay?
Author's Note #2: My beloved AJ was helping me to RP this out, and helped me a great deal before her passing in March. She was the driving force behind the bunny and my sounding board, my research partner, and so much more. This fic is therefore dedicated to her memory. I will always love you and miss you. Rest in peace, my darling.
Beta thanks go to Rick Berko, River, and Ithil-Valon. You guys have been terrific, and believe me, if there are any mistakes left, they're all totally mine. I take full credit for them.
And Lastly: HUGE thanks go to Rick and company for helping me research the best kind of liquor to use for this story. It was fun, wasn't it? *gryns* Thujone is the ingredient found in European blends of absinthe. To my knowledge, it's still illegal to include thujone in American absinthe. The stuff is so powerful that "one shot of this stuff will have you seeing green faeries in seconds," according to Rick's BF (a bartender). Unless you're a hardened alcoholic, of course. Then it takes minutes. *LOL*
Part Two
Blondie spent several days under Mouse's tutelage, learning how things worked in the Barrens. They all looked out for each other, in a way, but the rest of the world could go hang. Anyone was welcome, but only as long as they didn't steal or hurt anyone. That was tantamount to murder, in the Barrens "code", and it got the offender thrown out real fast. Those who had something were quick to offer it to someone who didn't, and those who didn't bartered rather than take a handout. It wasn't a perfect society, by any means, but it worked for what they wanted. Everyone contributed something, including him. Most of the time it was just muscle when something needed moved, or runs to the food banks, but sometimes it was only a sympathetic ear. That, and protecting Mouse. She had saved his life, even if he hadn't wanted it saved, and that meant a lot to him. He'd pay it back however he could.
Mouse had noticed, too, the careful way he related to the rest of the group. He wasn't afraid, by any means; she didn't feel any fear from him, but he was reluctant to get close. He didn't want friends. That was okay, no one minded, but she wanted to hurt whoever had put that wariness into him. And always when she woke up from a nod, he was nearby. Protecting her, unobtrusively of course. She didn't mind, but it underscored her perception that he was a good man. Most of the merry band of misfits in the Barrens were good people, too, but they'd all lost enough in their lives to leave the outer world for good. Again, though, she knew nothing concrete. No questions were asked in the Barrens, but sometimes someone would volunteer information. Except Blondie. He gave away nothing of himself.
Blondie, for his part, had worked to hide his tracks. He had a large amount of cash on hand, so he'd simply dumped his wallet and everything else with his identity on it in a convenient dumpster. The cash he kept close, preferring not to leave it in a hiding place that someone else might discover. Besides, it let him slip Mouse a little when she went on the juice runs. Kept her from having to panhandle or steal to get enough for her morphine. He didn't want her where she could get hurt, really. She was his friend, even though he hadn't wanted friendship when they met. And she was the best kind of friend. She asked nothing of him in return for her friendship. She gave it without hesitation or qualification, unconditionally, no matter what. He respected that more than anything else about her, he thought.
Mouse had decided he was settling in well, really. So well, in fact, that she had felt safe enough to let him go on some of the errands she'd been unable to handle that morning. The pain had been more intense than usual, and he'd volunteered. He'd even mentioned he had a little cash, so she just nodded her head and gave him the list.
She'd noticed that he seemed to have access to an unlimited cash flow, but she still wouldn't ask. It wasn't how things were done in the Barrens. Maybe he had a rich uncle or a trust fund or something, but it didn't matter as long as no one showed up making trouble for them. All of them had renounced the world for one reason or another, and they didn't want it finding them again.
The pain from emotional overload welled up inside her head again and she barely contained the moan of agony it provoked. She fumbled in the bag next to her and found her one remaining hypo and regarded it steadily. Emotions, never hers, they assaulted her day and night and they were getting stronger. She had to find a way to cut them off besides the morphine. It was killing her slowly and she knew it, but still she drew an extra bit into the syringe and pushed it home, praying desperately for some relief. Blondie would never know she'd increased the dose, since he wasn't back yet. Then she lay down on her mattress to enjoy the blessed numbness inside her head. At some point she fell asleep.
Oliver came back in from the last food pantry with several bags and ducked into the cubby with one especially for Mouse. She hadn't been eating and he knew it was due to the drugs, but they seemed to help whatever pain there was in her head. He'd just try to entice her with a few odds and ends. Junk food was better than nothing, and pantry food was better than junk food. Maybe she'd take some soup if nothing else. "Hey, Mouse, we scored okay today. Good stuff." His voice was growing rougher from the absinthe that continued to be provided to him but he thought that all to the better. It would further disguise him from certain people who might be listening.
She heard him come in but she didn't really care. He seemed to have appointed himself as her guardian, and that was okay, as long as he didn't try to stop her from getting what she needed. Still, she let herself slip deeper into sleep, because she did feel safer since he'd started sharing her flop. It was one of many such places in the Barrens; the place was a veritable warren of different holes, tunnels, and cubicles made out of whatever had been handy at the time. It was better than a box town because there was some semblance of heat and there were lanterns placed around so people could find their way, but the best part was that it was fairly secure. And she didn't want to think too hard about why she felt safer with him around because it meant she was getting attached to him, but she did feel safer and that was all there was to it. She let herself drop the rest of the way off.
Oliver frowned when she didn't react, but then he realized she must have taken another shot. He set the bag inside the makeshift doorway and knelt next to her, checking her pulse and shaking her gently. "Mouse?" She was so deeply asleep that she didn't answer and his concern deepened, but he turned and pulled out the food and the bottles of pop he'd been able to get to, putting them away neatly before trying to rouse her again. If she didn't respond this time, he'd take her to a hospital, Barrens rules be damned. She was dangerously close to overdosing on the stuff.
Mouse woke with a start and looked around before swearing softly when the inevitable pain started. Both hands went to her head. It was always worse when she woke up, but this time it was stronger than ever. Concern rose to the top of the mix and stayed there for several moments before disappearing into the maelstrom of emotion once more. "Hey, Blondie," she greeted him softly as she shifted. "Sorry. It's been bad today." She had never told him about it, and she didn't want to, but the temptation was pretty strong. "You got food?" Idly she wondered if he'd gotten any gummy worms but again, she wouldn't ask. They were a luxury not usually included in food pantries and there were better uses for the money they did have.
He gave her a worried look but held out the little bag to her. The gummies were supposed to have been a surprise but she looked so forlorn he couldn't hold them back. He just hoped she'd eat something. "You've been losing weight, Mouse, you need to eat," he chided gently. "Aren't there doctors that come down here or something?"
"You've got to be kidding," she replied as she hefted the bag. The worms brought a smile to her face, quickly lost under the weight of the emotions assaulting her. "The rest of the world has written us iff as freaks or worse. They leave us alone down here and that's how we like it." She clutched the bag of candy to herself for a moment. "Thanks, though. Just – thanks. They're my one vice, so to speak." She gave him another small, wan smile. "As for losing weight, well, that's what happens when you don't eat. Big boy like you should have figured that out." But the words were said in jest so as not to give offense.
Oliver smiled a bit as well. "Hey, we all have something that brings us pleasure, right?" He took a small sip of the absinthe and watched her closely. "So does that mean you're going to try to eat more? I don't think the others down here would like it if you faded out on them. They seem to like you."
"They'd deal. Sometimes it happens." Mouse gave a fatalistic shrug. "Like I said, the rest of the world doesn't give a rat's ass whether we live or die. Makes us all a bit – I don't know the right word but I guess you probably understand." She gave a significant glance to his current bottle. "Nobody comes down here unless they've got nowhere else to go, or nowhere to go but up. And that's their decision, nobody down here will try to force it in any direction. Makes it kinda nice."
Oliver blushed a little. "Sorry. You've just shown me a hell of a lot of kindness and I –" He coughed and took a drink to cover the fact that he'd almost told her he didn't want to lose her. "I want to repay it. You've been in a lot of pain and it doesn't seem to be getting any better." He changed the subject quickly to protect them both.
"You want to repay me?" Mouse had caught a flash of something from him, but she couldn't readily identify it out of the mix. "That's rich. Listen, down here, gratitude isn't something you can bank on. I understand it, but a lot of these people don't. We're not looking for anything from anyone." She shook her head. She could feel his consternation at the thought and tried to shove it aside, but it wasn't going. She also changed the subject. "This kind of pain, Blondie, it doesn't go away. The only thing that cuts it down to manageable levels is the morphine, and that's not working so well any more." Damn, she hadn't meant to let that slip. "It's hard to explain. It's in my head, all of it, but it isn't any less real for that. It never stops." She'd never opened herself up like this to anyone, not since it had lost her everything she had and given her the label "freak." "Listen, if you want to call yourself my friend, that's fine. Because I consider you my friend. But there's nothing you can do to help me, friend or not."
Oliver sighed but nodded. "Okay, but maybe if you told me what was in there, I might be able to help you. Look around you, look at the outside world. There are a lot of strange things going on out there now, strange but manageable. Maybe we could think of something to help."
"Whatever it is, it's killing me by inches," Mouse replied steadily. She wasn't pulling punches. He wanted to know, she'd spell it out for him. "Fear, terror, sorrow, rage. I feel them all the time and it's not what I'm feeling myself. It's from other people. I can't eat because of it, I can barely sleep, unless I use the morphine. That's the only relief I get." She couldn't help it and actually felt a bit better for sharing her secret. He was her friend, for good and all apparently, and even if she'd sworn off friendship he was there. "And I can't tell where it's coming from. It just slams into me, constantly, makes me wish I could die to get away from it."
Empathic? Oliver was certain she was, from the description of her pain. Now the trick would be helping her to control it. He desperately tried to remember what he'd been taught about shielding. "Is it after people touch you that it gets worse?" He'd touched her when he came in, and if he'd made things worse, he was sincerely sorry for it.
Mouse looked at him curiously when she felt regret slip over the top of the other emotions. It stayed, and it showed in his eyes as well. "Sometimes, but not always," she said softly. "It just never stops. Never." She held his eye determinedly. "And you can stop feeling sorry for whatever. You haven't done anything to hurt me." She couldn't explain how she knew, she just did. "I can't explain what it is. I just know it hurts like hell."
Oliver blinked. Definitely empathic. She was reading his emotions, and that meant the ones she felt from others, the pain she was feeling, he could help. If she'd listen. It meant he might be able to get her off the drugs and that would be a tremendous help for her. Deliberately he shut down his own emotions, burying them deep inside his own head. "Does that help you any?" His gaze never left hers.
Mouse felt the pain and confusion subside a bit and wondered at it. "A little," she said evenly. "Enough to notice, not enough to make much of a difference." She shrugged. "Can you go see Rover for me? I won't kid you, this is getting really bad again. Even what you just did, whatever it was, wasn't enough. It's building again. Like someone stuck a live wire in my skull." She needed a shot and she was suddenly sure she wouldn't be able to do it in front of him any more. She had been steadily increasing the dosage in order to get relief, and she didn't want him to know it. He might still have enough good guy left in him to try and stop her, or at least try to talk her out of it. She was sure he'd been a good guy in his before life; his actions in the Barrens spoke loudly of it. He was always willing to help out in a way most of them hadn't seen in a long time. "There's some cash in the can, I did car windows earlier while you were out. Use that, and if there's anything left over you can stop by Mike's for your juice."
Oliver shrugged. "If you're willing to listen to some weird stuff, I might be able to help you at least mute the noise in your head," he said slowly. She was hiding something from him, he could tell from the wary way she had kept close to her one remaining bottle of morphine. The level was lower than it should have been and sudden comprehension flared, though he was careful to keep his mind and his face impassive. "I can teach you to block those emotions."
Mouse gave him a shrewd glance. He knew, that much was obvious. How he'd figured it out, she didn't know, and right now she couldn't care less. The pain was increasing steadily and she wanted some relief. If he could give her even a tenth of the quiet the morphine did, she'd listen. "Weird is the story of my life, Blondie," she replied with a sardonic chuckle and then a wince. "All I know is I want it to stop. I can't take it any more, feeling what everyone else around me is feeling, I can't. So much pain and misery out there, I can't stand it. And I can't stop it, either." She'd listen. She'd listen because he was still around and seemed to give a damn. Unusual in the Barrens, where "me first" was a way of life. "So lay it on me, oh wise one."
Oliver gave a derisive snort. "I'm not wise, believe me, smart ass. Just close your eyes and concentrate on breathing in through your nose and out through your mouth." He waited until he saw her settle back on the mattress before he went on. "Try to find a quiet place in your mind."
"Relaxation techniques, huh? Nice." Mouse nonetheless complied, but after a few moments, put a hand on her head again. "Right now, there isn't a quiet place in my mind," she said apologetically. "There's too much noise, and it really hurts." She wanted to cry but she wouldn't. Not in front of him, not in front of anyone. "It hurts!" she suddenly screamed as the pain became different, more focused. It was true pain now, pain causing despair and anger. It was a solid feed, not a mixture, and she cried out again as she realized that one person, only one, was feeling that despair and pain. "Someone… someone nearby, Blondie, someone's hurt and scared. Scared and losing hope. It's strong, it's too strong, I can't block it out no matter what I do, it's overwhelming everything else!" She looked over to him, her aqua eyes brimming with the tears she refused to shed. "We have to find him. He's so afraid…"
TBC…
