Eeeek, Reviews have been super fabby. The Luthors are really stirring up some trouble huh?
So, yeah, a few of you know what's to come so... sorry, but the plot bunnies demanded (and they have guns...).

Previously; Lionel approached Lex about his progeny's transgressions. Victor was saved, but at the cost of Oliver's life (almost). Our dear hero has been double dosed with RL-65 and is feeling the effect of the rage, so, he's been locked up. In the meantime our darling Chloe is finally putting her hopes on that almighty fourth date with her handsome man.

Now; *Slides across box of tissues*


Chapter Thirty-Two; Broken


'It's not much to look at, is it?'

'Broken dreams seldom are.' - Clark Kent & Lex Luthor (Season Four, Episode Onyx)


At 7:50pm, Chloe stood before Claros. This date was something of a legend in the story of Chloe Sullivan. After sex, 'dates' became nothing more than the name of a fruit, 'boyfriend' turned into slang for a man that used her and left without notice. But today, today she had a date with her boyfriend of whom she had already slept with. There was a huge smile on her face. Her lips curved, ignorant of the niggle at the back of her mind asking why she was going to slap Queen. Her mind was on the present, on the colourful reds in the floral display, on the scent of food drifting through the open door. She'd worn killer heels, basic light make-up and a knock-out dress. If Oliver could wait until the end of the date to fuck her again, then it would be a miracle.

He said he'd meet her here, he had a business meeting or something, so she stepped from the taxi confident and full of life. Her name passed to the Maître d' and with a grin, he took her arm in his, leading her with him before she could react to the contact.

Claros was upscale in every sense of the word. Tables had a month waiting list, even for the rich… so yet again, she had no idea how Oliver had a table at this late notice.

"Madame, Mr Queen is not here yet, but has insisted you be given anything you want until he does arrive." he spoke as they glided past seated patrons. Claros was the kind of place where if you crossed the path of a waiter, they would stop and apologise, flamboyantly sweeping an arm to let you pass first. It was the kind of place with rich colour schemes, the kind of place with private rooms. The Maître d' let her towards one of these as she presumed, but then he swept past them with a smile and stopped at smooth red velvet curtains pinned back on either side of another room. He tapped her hand twice and stepped back from her touch, setting her in her own personal space again. His hand motioned forwards as she stood still.

She took a breath and walked forwards again.

The room was like another world, two waiters already standing at attention on either side of the table. Oh god… she hated situations like this, she felt so awkward with the imposed hierarchical system in place.

"Miss Maine." One greeted to her left.

"Miss Maine." Echoed the other to her right, with the same miniature bow. She sighed but took another step into the wonderland.

He'd decorated the area with lilies and tulips in great big vases. It looked like a dream.

"Coffee Madame?" her previous guide offered. She hadn't realised he was still there.

"Oh yes." she agreed swiftly with a smile. At least Oliver had that part of her figured out.

"With pleasure." The man agreed, and snapped his fingers twice. The waiters burst into motion, one drawing back her seat at the lone table, the candle already burning in the centre. The other bowed himself out of the room to fetch the coffee no doubt. "May I have the pleasure of bringing you anything else Madame?"

"…No… thanks." And with a sweep he was gone.

Chloe crossed the area, begrudgingly accepting the aid into her chair, though she was actively against the idea of slavery he was portraying. She turned to him before he was able to speak his next scripted piece.

"Can you perhaps… not do the bowing thing, or whatever you're instructed to do that's meant to make me feel like I own you." The waiter smiled. "And not call me Madame or Miss Maine. Chloe's fine."

"Apologies Miss, but I'm not allowed to call guests by their first names at any time."

"Fantastic." she replied sarcastically rolling her eyes.

"I will do my best to acquiesce to the other request." He smiled.

"Thank you." She grinned with a sigh and relaxed into her chair.

But as each second passed with him stood behind her, the awkward feeling just grew. She wished she'd worn a watch so she could figure out how long she'd been sat there. It felt like hours… though, probably just seconds. "So…" she started. "How's the job? You like it?" she asked, turning back to her waiter. He grinned, flashing a perfect set of white teeth at her.

"Honestly?" he asked, a conspiring wink. He could tell she wouldn't be like the other guests he usually had to serve with their nose up their ass. "It's good pay and that's where my list of positives stops." She laughed.

"I thought as much." she agreed. "Interesting characters though?"

"Oh, you can definitely say that." he chuckled.

"Yeah. Rich people; never a dull moment." She grinned.

"Amen Miss." he concurred, silencing when the other waiter brought in her coffee and bowed himself back out just as swiftly.

"You get paid to stand behind people all night?" she questioned.

"Only if I'm lucky." He grinned again, that flash of a smile. "Usually I'm on the main floor, being pushed around by an old couple who wanted their gravy sieved seven times, not three." He laughed with her. "My apologies Miss, but, why are you so different?" Chloe met the eyes of the young adult, he was barely 25 she bet.

"I've been where you are. Trust me, I know what happens in those kitchens. Being wined and dined by billionaires was not on my list of things to do at all this year."

"You've worked in kitchens?" he questions.

"I've worked my ass off, sweating in a kitchen and putting up with the downward glances of the rich snobs that waltz through my life."

"I'm only doing this to pay for university." he admitted truthfully.

"What are you studying?"

"Not yet." he admitted. "Looking for a course in computer science." She rose an eyebrow, not because of how close to home it hit, but because of the surprise. The guy was good looking, tall, spot-free and nothing like the males she'd spent years with in MIT. "Yeah, I know. I get that look a lot." he grinned. "I like computers."

"Where are you thinking of applying? There are some great courses around, but Star City's campus has Dr Trachenburg, he single handedl-"

"Single handedly created the meta system for multiple invasions of three dimensional networks." he finished with a grin. "You speak computer?"

"I work computer." she corrected. "Personal communications and network manager."

"Wow." he breathed.

Chloe finally lifted the awkward bubble, talking to Joe (her personal waiter) about everything computer (in the realm of legal anyway- though both knew the other dipped into other areas).

"No, most people think I want to apply for a modelling contract." He laughed. "It's a hard world."

Chloe smiled, finally getting the man to sit down opposite her as the time passed and both realised Oliver was running late and no other server would join them until he arrived. They had been deep in the discussion of colleges for a while.

"I can imagine. I've seen the horrible side of computer science courses and it isn't spot free." He chuckled.

"This is ace. I can't believe I lucked out tonight big time." He grinned.

"What time is it?" she asked off-handedly, realising how long they'd been sat there. He rolled up the crisp white sleeve, a shiny silver watch circling his left wrist.

"Just gone half 8."

"Half 8?!" she exclaimed. Where the hell was Oliver?!

"You want me to check with the desk if he called in?" Joe offered.

"Nah, I got this." He stepped back to the other side of the room as she fished out her phone, though she rolled her eyes at him.

'This person's phone is turned off. Please try again later or leave a message.'

She rose an eyebrow, checking the phone again. It was his number alright. She flashed her gaze over the phone's time stamp. Joe was right. 8:32pm. Oliver had arranged the date for 7:50… on the dot. He was over half an hour late… and considering the previous overheard conversation it seemed he'd taken the lame way out of dumping her. Her mood turned sour and she hung up, dialling the personal line to the receptionist at his office.

"Good evening, Mr Queen's office." A bright and cheery secretary answered.

"Is Mr Queen at the office?"

"Who is calling?" she replied, just as cheery.

"Chloe Maine, he-"

"Oh, Miss Maine. Mr Queen is away on business until the next week."

"He hasn't left yet though, is he there?"

"Mr Queen departed this morning."

"He left this morning?" she repeated, the blackness oozing into her head, telling her what she didn't want to hear; he wasn't coming.

"Yes Miss."

"Why was the time changed? He said he wasn't leaving until tomorrow."

"I'm don't think it was changed, it's penned in his calendar as his flight leaving this morning. I can attempt to call him if you wish."

"Please do." Chloe spoke between gritted teeth.

"Of course, one moment." And the line went silent for a whole minute as she rapped her fingers against the table. "Miss Maine?"

"Yes."

"My apologies but Mr Queen's phone is turned off. Could I take a message?"

"No, thank you. I'll leave one myself."

"Of course. Have a nice night." she wished. Chloe jabbed to end the call and instantly redialled her first attempt at a call.

This time she left a message.

"I'm sitting in Claros. Alone. Apparently your flight left this morning… You could have at least manned up enough to do this yourself." And then she was done. She straightened herself out and stood. Joe came across, an apologetic expression. She held up a finger before he could start. "I presume Mr Queen has an open tab for tonight."

"Yes Miss." His lips growing to a smile as he figured out her reasoning. "We have his card on record, it all comes straight from his account."

"Good. Mr Queen would like to buy each table a bottle of whatever your most expensive wine is, to celebrate ending his relationship with me. Can you make him a happy man?"

"Of course Miss, your request will have to be heard by the Maître D' though."

"Bring him in." And Chloe brushed herself down.

Within minutes she was speaking to the man of power and he was confirming her position as Oliver's date and then her request to charge his card with a hell of a bill. She walked through the tables with her head held high and a taxi awaiting to take her home.

But the second she closed the apartment door, she felt empty, hollow and upset. It had happened again. She couldn't keep a man. She thought he was different, she thought he was special.

He was just the same asshole as all the other men.

Why couldn't he just call her? Why couldn't he be a man for god's sake?! Chloe had had her heart crushed by men before, but this man, this man had smashed her heart, shredded the pieces and burnt the remains. It hurt worse that she'd ever felt before.

Chloe heard herself cry before she felt the tears, she heard the sobs. She fell apart against the door, crumbling to the carpet where she lost control.

He should have just killed her, it would be more merciful. Tears streamed, everything cracked inside her. The last piece of hope hung onto a fragile wire.

Something could have happened to him. But Chloe cut the cord herself, she wanted no hope when it came to this man. She'd hoped and she'd dreamed. He'd found a way to stop the bleeding ache of all the men past only to pierce her healed heart himself. Why have hope for a man that tore her apart?! She wished she had slapped him, wish she had walked out on him, wished deep down that there would be some way to make him feel the pain she did. But, there was nothing she could do in under 20 years that would even come close to comparing.

Other men didn't get tears when they left, they got curses and anger. But Oliver… she couldn't even summon anger against him. Just herself, for buying into his bullshit! For thinking she ever had a chance at a happily-ever-after.

Chloe crumpled to the floor entirely, her sobs raking through her dry throat, her dress spilling around her, another reminder of a bad night.


Chloe leaned back in the bathtub hours later, turning the taps with her toes, her mind on everything that wasn't Oliver. She was doing quite well. She thought about Arrow, he was enough of a mystery to keep her thinking. But… Arrow offered her a solution.

He'd be there before midnight, they'd finish the game. Maybe she'd throw the hand, take him for a good fuck to push Oliver from her mind. Meaningless sex. She had no hopes from Arrow, no dreams. They both knew who the other was, even without names. They knew the situations. So, yes, she would get over Oliver by getting onto Arrow. He'd be her new light. He'd push away the darkness Oliver's rejection had filled her with. Even if just one night at a time.

Chloe sunk into the bubbles, trying to wash away the dark cloud that followed her. Much like the weather had decided to follow her moods too. It had managed to stay clear while she was in the restaurant, but the second she stepped back into her apartment, rain came down hard.


Chloe spent time on her hair, she spent time on her looks, she dressed in the emerald lingerie and she covered herself with shorts and vest top under the silk of the dressing gown that swept around her feet. She was the perfect mix of cute and seductive. Arrow would be a lucky man.

Her eyes went to the clock, 10:35pm. She had time. She settled herself on the sofa with a movie.

But as time went on, as the hour hand closed on midnight, she turned back to the balcony doors she'd left closed, but unlocked for him.

No, she reassured herself, she couldn't get stood up twice in one night, what were the odds of that happening? She laughed and re-settled herself on the sofa to finish the last 15 minutes of the movie. Arrow would be held up on a robbery or something. He'd be there in a few minutes.

But the credits rolled and there was no green leather in sight. Just his leftover gloves on the table with the pack of cards. Sure, she could take the gloves, get a print from the inside and run his fingerprints, but… that seemed like cheating. She turned back to the clock; 12:15. He was late. 'Before midnight' were his exact words. Why was she even waiting up? It was clear he wasn't coming.

Just the story of her life.

The rain threw itself against the window, more violent than it had ever been that day. The air was cold, the blanket over her offering little comfort as she felt the familiar sting in her tearducts. Not again, she thought. But yes. It was happening all over again today. It became clearer with every mocking tick of the clock that hung on the wall. Each second was another nail in her relationship coffin.

She was alone. Again. No hero, no saviour. Nobody to love little Chloe.

She wished she could forget. Forget Oliver, forget Arrow. She wished she could run away from everyone that hurt her. But the list was starting to look awfully long.

How much longer until this rejection would stop and she could find someone to make her glow?! How long would men keep hurting her like this?

A tear slipped free, she ignored it, she refused to cry again. But, it was a losing battle.

She'd finish her deal with Lex, she decided. Then she'd be gone. Lionel may call her soft on Arrow, prey to her morals and ethics. But that weakness was over. She was cold. Cold and deadly.

Her eyes flicked to the gloves on the table. He'd left them as proof he'd be back. Proof, her ass! She snatched them from the varnished wood, her nails scratching the surface as she did. Her other hand took the stack of cards and marched to the balcony. The doors hit the windows as she threw them back, she was instantly soaked from the violent wind and rain, but she didn't care. The dressing gown whipped behind her, smashing against the door frame. Her hair was drenched, plastering to her face and splashing her as the wind snared certain strands. She released her hands grip, the goods falling to the wet stones.

This was it. The point of no return. She was cold until she handed him over to Lex. The ivory walls surrounding her heart would grow poison ivy, the walls would be higher than any man could climb, stronger than any bulldozer could break. Death came promised with every brick.

She would be as Luthor as she could until this finished: no heart.

Her hair clung to her face, her silent tears running with the rain. Yet she still searched the skyline for him. She was glutton for punishment.

Bastard! She cursed to herself. But the word felt like it healed a small crack inside her.

"Bastard!" she screamed into the rain. "You fucking bastard!" she cried out again. The rain swallowed her voice, the noise nothing more than for her own ears, but she hoped. She hoped somewhere in the back on their minds, both Oliver and the Green Arrow felt the pain from this.

Her hands gripped the railing, her clothes hugged her limbs, soaking her through to the bone. She gave them one last tear. One last tear to the men that she'd been fooled by. Maybe Arrow and Oliver were more alike than she thought. Both were fucking assholes. She ran another stream of curses before turning to the doors. But her bare foot touched a card on the floor. Face up. Queen of hearts.

Even the cards were mocking her. She lifted it, tearing it into as many pieces as possible and throwing it over the balcony. And on the balcony, wedged between two railings, the card that smiled up at her was the joker. It met her scowl and then met the same fate as the queen. Those were the two men, the Queen of hearts and the Joker. Both playing with her like some sick fantasy. She turned and stormed inside, making a point of locking the doors, sliding the curtains across and leaving her emotions outside where they belonged.

She was done. Done with these pathetic men that she fell for. Done with this life. And done with her deal.

Arrow would be turned over and she'd start anew. That was it.

Chloe threw herself into a warm shower, refusing to get ill from the stupid men in her life. Then, dried and warm, she went to bed calling the day the worse day she'd ever had since Lionel had killed her father.

That night, the first snowfall of winter fell. It didn't settle, it didn't even come into the vision of anyone who slept before 3am. But Dinah sat before Watchtowers great stained glass window, watching in the dark as little white specs fell from the sky, promising a new beginning.


Chloe woke expecting a new day, a new start. But the ghosts of yesterday weren't finished with her. To add insult to injury Chloe not only woke looking like she'd spent the night crying, but the paper delivered to her door summoned an anger even her newly frozen heart couldn't evade. She'd dropped it on the table, in search of coffee. But as it unfolded, a picture caught her eye. A very familiar picture.

Her eyes flew wide open and she read the headline.

"The fuck?!" she hissed to the paper.


"He seems better…" Bart noted, hovering by the door, peering through the window at the cot bed. "Less 'grrr'"

"Seems being the operative word." Victor spoke, joining the other guys with the necessary coffee after a very late evening trying to talk Oliver down from wrecking everything in there. Emil had given Victor the all clear, having to remove a section of his arm for the time being. Oliver would get him a new one… when he dropped his temper. As for Victor, the virus seemed to wipe out his anger when it started messing with his tech.

"Maybe we should… you know, talk to him." AC suggested.

"Let him sleep." Victor corrected again. He didn't want to be lured into thinking Oliver was under control and then have his throat ripped out by him.

"Probably best. He was screaming the city down all night." Dinah spoke up, letting herself in. She was the only one to sit with him last night, sending the other's home for sleep and to take up shift of the morning. But now, half rested and jacked up on coffee, she was back. "Plus, you'd hate for him to see this and not be locked up." She waved the morning paper before them having a second copy under her arm. One went to Victor, the other, she walked to the cell door, opened it marginally before throwing in the paper and shutting it again.

"He's going to kill us." Victor addressed them, dropping the paper to the floor. AC bent to pick it up, reading it aloud.

"Queen's back to his usual antics. Sources reveal one, Chloe Maine (pictured above) had been on the billionaires arm for three dates. Had he finally decided to settle? It seems not, the playboy didn't like the new style, leaving Miss Maine stood up at restaurant Claros last night." AC didn't need to read more.

"He missed a date…" Bart summed. "He didn't say. Why didn't he say? We should have text her, or something…"

"He can take her on another one… right?" AC asked, clueless about the relationship.

"Chloe's not much into forgiving men…" Bart echoed the knowledge. But Dinah chose that moment to kick the door of Oliver's cell three times hard.

"Wake up Green Bean and read the headline." she instructed to the grumbling form.

"What the fuck Dinah?!" AC charged over. "He's going to go mental."

"Would you rather him do it in that cell, or wait until he gets out to find out. I know which one I prefer."

"You get a kick out of torturing him! Don't pretend this doesn't make you happy." AC started. "He didn't want you Dinah, and now he can't be with her and you're thrilled by it."

"No. I'm being practical, you dick." She scowled.

"Practical? You cal-"

"Dinah's right." Vic spoke up. "It's better he hear it while we can contain it. We can't keep him in there for much longer, the drug will be wearing off, and it's better contained."

"Maybe… he'll burn out the rage…" Bart suggested, not as hopeful as he wished he was.

Silence fell as they all waited for the impending curse.

"FUCK!" Something collided with the cell, another and another. Fists? Chairs? The bed? The sound of the newspaper unwrapping and cascading down from a throw came, followed by more thumps against the wall. Each hand in hand with a curse that would make truckers flinch.

Dinah needed to know. She stepped closer, the door having the bulletproof glass as its only window. Here he was, blood covering his hands and the wall as he repeated slammed a fist into it.

"What's he doing?" Bart spoke up, coming closer. Dinah held out her hand, stopping Bart at a distance, he didn't need to see this.

"He's splitting open his knuckles." she admitted somberly. "Get something to sedate him." Her voice spoke the truth, she wasn't enjoying any of this. Seeing him ache over Chloe didn't make her feel any better, it made her feel broken too.

Bart sped the distance across watchtower, picked the dart gun and ran back to the cell. Dinah took it from him and leant against the wall, one hand on the handle, the other aiming the gun. He was too preoccupied with his curses to notice her presence, or the way something bit his thigh, or how the drowsiness he woke with was calling him back.

Dinah stood again, tears brimming her eyes. She turned away from the boys as they caught sight of her.

"Put him back on the cot and tape up his knuckles." she ordered, solumn and quiet. She walked to the bathroom, locking herself in swiftly.


Lex watched the live security feed, watching as Chloe cursed at the newspaper headline she was reading. The exact same headline sat open on his desk, he'd seen her cry herself to sleep last night, now he knew why. Queen hadn't stopped his old antics, and Chloe had made the mistake of having feelings for him. He watched her curse wildly as she stormed around the room, her eyes reading the paper she wanted to burn. When she reached for her phone, Lex hovered his hand over his, knowing where her mind was going.

The ringing began a second later. He let it ring twice, watching her bite her nails, then answered.

"I saw the headline." he greeted her.

"Yeah, about that. I thought your contacts were meant to stop my picture from being in any newspaper while I was here." She did well to cover the sadness, but the anger was lashing out, looking for someone to blame that wasn't herself.

"As omnipotent as you believe me to be, I cannot control every human on this planet. But, I can fire this photographer if it would reduce your humiliation." he offered, knowing he would stir her temper again.

"Humiliation?! I'm not humiliated. I'm pissed. This is entirely out of context."

"I see." he lied. "What did Queen have to say about this?"

"He's… he's not happy either." He watched her fingers come back to her mouth. Her anger stumbled as she lied again.

"And Queen, has he taken interest in the business?" Chloe turned, her fingers back to her laptop.

"I haven't checked. I've been busy. I can do it now."

"I asked you to do this days ago Chloe."

"Arrow's been keeping me busy." she lied as she tapped out and accessed a gateway she'd built herself earlier.

"Really?" Lex leant back in his chair, wondering how much she thought she could lie to him about. "What have you been doing?"

"Ummm, just the archery ranges. There's a lot of people to check through."

"I see." Lex muttered, flicking through his appointments for today. He had to go into Luthorcorp. In the back of his mind, he thought about ordering her back to the mansion. But… there was that other darker side, that one that told him he could wait until she invited Arrow back, and catch them both red handed. Two birds, one stone. Lex grinned. "Any luck so far?" he continued the conversation.

"I'm working through it." she simply replied. "It's not in any electronic documents. There's not even a mention on a memo." she dutifully informed Lex.

"Well, that would mean you're not doing your job very well."

"I can't force someone to do something. I said I'd keep him busy and that's what I've done." she argued, snapping the laptop closed.

"And now what are you going to do Chloe? You've lost your contact with him. This newspaper scandal is going to make it impossible for you to keep your identity. All it takes is one reporter doing some digging."

"No. I can still work this. It doesn't need personal contact." she disagreed, sounding desperate. Lex shook his head slowly, the woman couldn't let anything go. Anything but her loyalty to a binding contract it seemed.

"The window's closed Chloe." Lex told her sternly. "You can focus on Arrow solely now. I want an update by the end of the week."

"Lex, this isn't the end. I can keep working. I've go-"

"You failed. Accept it, and thank your lucky stars I'm not my father." And Lex hung up the phone.

The video feed showed Chloe throwing the phone across the other side of the room, running her fingers through her hair then cursing to the air. Lex turned his lips up again. Chloe could never shut off her emotions, she was ruled by them. And now, damaged and hurt, she'd turn to sex as a comfort. And he'd be the one to pounce as soon as Arrow was in her bedroom, under a false belief of comfort.

Lex dialled out to his security manager, insisting a team be positioned in her building, eyes on the video feed and to detain Arrow as soon as he stepped foot into Chloe's apartment again.


Oliver sat on the cot. His knuckles ached, his head pounded. The leftover RL drug in his system had fixed the surface damage, but beneath; he hurt badly.

He reached a finger over her image again. He'd broken his promise.

She looked like the woman he'd met the first day. The cold closed off wreck Luthor had manipulated.

It was for coping.

For coping with the ache in her heart.

He knew because he was building himself one.

If you were cold, you didn't feel the sting of a broken heart.

His finger stroked the image.

She looked so empty. So lifeless.

She was without her smile, her laugh.

Without her body pressed to his.

"Sane yet?"

He ignored Dinah's voice.

He was alive because of what they did.

But Chloe was hurting because of what they did.

"You can fix things." Dinah spoke again. Again, he ignored her. "I went to see her. Before." she admitted. "She's wonderful, she really is… I told her everything she needed to hunt you or Arrow, and she did neither…and… she loved you Ollie." He heard her voice waver. "And there's no denying you love her. You wouldn't hurt this much if you didn't." Her voice cracked and he heard the sniffles of an emotional woman. "You told me the greatest loves don't come easily." she quoted back to him. "This is just another bump in the road." Oliver took another long look at the newspaper. "You'll be… You two are… you're meant for each other." Oliver saw nothing but the hurt he'd caused, and after he'd said for so long that he wouldn't hurt her, that he'd stay, that he'd never leave her. "You've never been happier Oliver. Things have to work out between you two. I'll… I'll go and talk to her. Tell her Green Arrow had you locke-"

"Leave her Dinah."

"I can-"

"She's been hurt enough. Just… let her heal…" and Oliver took one last look at the newspaper image. She was broken, and it was all his fault. He just… he wanted to… He wanted to kiss her one last time, he wanted to hold her. He wanted her to smile for him again.

His eyes looked back at her emotionless hard features. His fingers released the paper, her picture tumbling to land face up on the floor. He laid back in the cot and closed his eyes, trying to remember the last kiss he'd tasted from her sweet lips, and… he had nothing.

Dinah stood, tears sliding down her face in free fall, she watched silently as Oliver's closed eyes grew tears of their own.

Hearts had different ways of breaking, Dinah had spent weeks with hers slowly cracking. Chloe had probably been losing piece by piece the longer she sat alone in that restaurant. But Oliver. Oliver had taken a sledgehammer to his heart: there in one second, dust in the next.

A fist slammed against the wall making Dinah jump. She opened her eyes again, Oliver lay with one hand across his eyes, the other resting against the wall after its outburst.

His hands would be lucky if they made it through the night without any more damage.


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Next chapter is happier, promise (Can't really get worse. Or can it... Hehehehe).

Preview; Chloe gets curious about where Oliver is. Oliver finally gets released from his 'anger management' cell. I wonder where he'll go first...