Title: Anything But Ordinary
Pairing: Chloe/Oliver
Author: Genevieve
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Sexual Content/Violence, also spoilery for season 8, don't read if you don't want to be spoiled.
Summary: After being poisoned, Oliver Queen sinks into darkness, questioning his role as the Green Arrow and the sacrifices to his personal life, but when danger threatens and he's needed, will he accept the burden of a hero?
Anything But Ordinary
Chapter 1
Whose eyes am I behind
I don’t recognize anything that I see
Whose skin is this design
I don’t want this to be the way that you see me
I don’t understand anything anymore
In this world that I’m tired of
Is taking me right up these walls
That I climb up
To get to your story
It’s anything but ordinary
And when the world is on its knees with me it’s fine
And when I come to the rescue I get nothing but left behind
Everybody seems to be getting what they need where's mine
‘Cause you’re what I need so very but I’m anything but ordinary
Can you save me from this world of mine
Before I get myself arrested with this expectation
You are the one look what you’ve done
What have you done?
This is not some kind of joke
You’re just a kid
You weren’t ready for what you did
And when the world is on its knees with me it’s fine
And when I come to the rescue I do it for you time after time
Everybody seems to be getting what they need where's mine
‘Cause you’re what I need so very but I’m anything but ordinary
I think I’m trying to save the world for you
You’ve been saving me too
We could just stay in and save each other
I’m anything but ordinary
I’m anything but ordinary
--Train
He was nearly startled at his reflection in the bathroom mirror, almost unable to recognize himself. Dark circles under his eyes, his mouth felt like wads of cotton had been stuffed inside, his breath still smelling of alcohol from the night before. He brushed his teeth quickly, then gazed at himself once more. Oliver rubbed his chin, the prickle of stubble grazing his palm. He looked like shit, and felt like it too. Head pounding from a hangover, he reached for the medicine cabinet, taking out the bottle of aspirin, shaking the contents until three of them fell into his palm. He downed them with a sip of water right from the faucet, then cupping his hands under the cool running water, he splashed his face, gasping softly at the cold shock. He wiped his face hastily on the nearest towel. The water helped, but not the way he wanted. It would never wash away everything.
Since his return to Metropolis, he’d been poisoned. Now miraculously fully recovered, his near brush with death had him rethinking and questioning himself and his role as the Green Arrow. He’d lost Lois. Lost any semblance of a normal life, sacrificed it all for some crazy heroic notions, thinking he could make a difference in the world. For what? For whom? It was thankless, no one cared whether he was the Green Arrow or not. Whatever made him think he could try to change the world with a bow and arrow, some fancy high-tech gadgets, and a snazzy green leather costume? It was a joke. He was a joke.
Lois had come to visit him, and maybe, just maybe he thought, they could rekindle what they had. But he was the Green Arrow, and that made any chance between them impossible, causing him to realize that as long as he donned the green leather, he’d never have a normal life, never find someone to share his life with. It didn’t matter, nothing mattered. Hell, the last time he saw Lois, she was kissing Clark.
Oliver heard a soft moaning from the adjacent bedroom, and the rustle of bed sheets. He turned his head in the direction of the sound. A feminine voice called his name, reminding him that he’d been doing some kissing of his own lately. What was her name? His fogged brain couldn’t remember. He barely remembered the night with her, whoever she was. A smoky exclusive nightclub. A few drinks, a few smiles, a few lust-filled gazes, a suggestive comment here or there, and before he knew it, they were back at the penthouse and she’d become a vessel to fill, in an attempt to chase away the demons. He’d been a bit rough, but she didn’t seem to mind. It had been a momentary diversion, an escape, something to numb his senses, just like the other nameless, faceless women, but the demons always came back. “I’ll be right there,” he called, the sound of his own voice causing his head to pound excruciatingly. He needed to find a way to get the woman out, hoping she wouldn’t linger.
Quite a few women had their eye on Oliver Queen last night, but she’d been the one he’d taken home and bedded. She purred like a kitten. “I have to leave soon, Oliver.”
Go ahead. And don’t let the door hit you on the way out, he thought bitterly. She was just another reminder of his failure at life. “I’m coming.”
She giggled. “You said that last night, too.”
Oliver stepped into the room, to see the disheveled auburn haired beauty sitting up in his bed, sheets barely covering her. He felt nothing.
“Yeah, I guess I did,” he said, searching for a pair of track pants, and slipping them on easily. “Listen… uh…” Damn, what was her name?
The woman’s face fell upon seeing his expression, divining his thoughts. “Don’t bother,” she murmured, her voice suddenly dejected and angry. She rose from the bed and began dressing hastily.
“Look… I’m… I’m sorry,” he began. But he wasn’t sorry, he simply felt nothing.
She snorted, slipping into her high-heeled shoes. “I said, don’t bother. I know the way out.” The woman ran a hand through her long curls, lifted her chin in an attempt to retain some semblance of dignity, and strode purposefully out of the bedroom.
Oliver stood rooted to the spot without a backward glance, as she brushed past him. He heard the rumbling of the elevator, and then surprisingly the sound of the woman’s voice speaking to someone. “Ha! You’re not his girlfriend are you?"
Chloe shook her head, speechless.
“Are you next? Well, have fun! He likes it hard, just so you know, fucks like the hounds of hell are on his tail, but maybe with you, he’ll be different.”
Chloe stood dumbfounded as the woman appraised her head to toe, then squinted, as she scrutinized the petite blonde in front of her.
“You look like you can handle him,” the woman said, entering the elevator, leaving Chloe to stare after her, even after the doors closed, and the elevator rumbled again on it’s descent.
“What the hell are you doing here?”
Chloe turned at the sound of his voice. “Uh…” she mumbled, uncomfortable at her inopportune entrance. She didn’t really want to know about Oliver’s extracurricular activities, and it bothered her to have to witness the woman’s exit. If the woman’s comments were anything to go by, this was a meaningless, futile effort on his part to escape whatever he was running from. She blushed, taking in his appearance, shirtless wearing nothing but track pants, dark circles under his eyes and a day old growth of scruffy beard. “You look like shit. I’m surprised you managed to bring home anything other than a stray puppy.” Chloe intoned, motioning toward the elevator, yet trying to hide her shock and disappointment at the same time. This was a man she’d always admired, and his behavior lately was cause for concern, and she was angry with him.
He stepped closer to her, and Chloe could smell the alcohol emanating from him.
“What are you doing here, Chloe?”
“I came to check up on you. Everyone’s been worried.”
Oliver smirked. “As you can see, I’m fine. And how did you get in?”
“You gave me a key, and the pass codes, remember? And you’re not fine. Things have been happening that could use your attention. I could use your help, but the Green Arrow has been suspiciously absent when we need him most.”
“My attention? Or the Green Arrow’s attention?” he scoffed.
“Last I knew, you were both.” She looked down at her hands clasped in front of her. “Maybe there’s something I can do?” She gazed up at him, shrugging helplessly.
Oliver stared at her, his eyes hard. Can you help me believe again? Can you help me understand why sacrificing my life for others is remotely worth anything? Can you help me to know why I should care anymore? Can you show me that it’s all worth it? He didn’t want her pity, didn’t want her concern, and didn’t want her of all people to see him this way. He was silently ashamed that she’d walked in as a woman was leaving, and he hated feeling as though he’d disappointed her somehow. Damn her for making him feel anything.
“Look, I know the whole thing with Lois…”
He shook his head. “I don’t need you to coddle me, I don’t need your help,” he interrupted forcefully. “Just get out of here. Don’t you have something else to do? Something else to worry about? Like… breast-feeding Jimmy or something?” he nearly snarled the words, the disdain dripping from his voice.
He should have expected it, she was a Sullivan-Lane girl after all, but he didn’t. She slapped him, hard across the face. He deserved it, and he relished the sting of it, relished her fury. He didn’t know why he was purposefully making her angry with him, but right now it was the only thing he’d felt in a while, it was unwelcome, this feeling of something, anything, and he desperately tried to rid himself of any emotion.
He palmed his cheek where she’d slapped him, and returned her stare. “Too close to the truth, huh, Chloe? Talk to me about stray puppies, when you have your own?” Her green eyes glittered. She blinked, pressing her lips together, seeming on the verge of tears, and Oliver was surprised to find that it pained him to realize that it was within his power to make her cry. No. Don’t feel anything. But he couldn’t help himself, and guilt at his biting words to her filled him.
She’d come as a friend, out of concern for him, but this man was not the Oliver Queen she knew. “You bastard,” she hissed. “Go ahead. Dig yourself deeper into that black hole of self-pity you’ve created, enjoy it, wallow in it, because you’ll be the only guest at that party.”
He was silent as he watched her walk toward the elevator.
She turned to face him one last time. “Drink yourself into oblivion. Sleep with everything on two legs from here to Star City, it won’t change anything, it won’t make things different, it won’t make things better.” She shook her head. “I don’t know who you are anymore.”
He lowered his head, gazing down at his bare feet. “Neither do I,” he whispered.
“Find him. The world needs you,” she murmured, and just as the elevator doors closed, he thought he heard her say, “I need you, Oliver.”
Oliver slumped into the living room chair, pulsing, aching head in his hands. Damn her. He didn’t want to feel. It was better that way, easier. Nothing mattered, no one, nothing could hurt you if your heart was closed. But since Chloe Sullivan walked into his penthouse, he’d felt shame, embarrassment, anger, despair, and guilt almost all at once. He wasn’t certain how she’d done it, how she’d evoked any kind of emotion in him at all, but she had.
He stood up, heading toward his stash of liquor, thinking to get a drink. It helped him to forget, numbed his senses. Pulling a glass down from the cabinet with one hand and a bottle of whiskey in the other, he poured two fingers into the glass. Swirling it around, he then raised the glass to his lips, and caught a glimpse of his own reflection in the bottom of the glass.
The world needs you. I need you, Oliver.
Oliver lowered the glass, then suddenly drew back his arm, and in a fit of rage, threw it against the sink, causing it to shatter, amber liquid to fly.
Damn her.
I need you, Oliver.
End Chapter 1
Pairing: Chloe/Oliver
Author: Genevieve
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Sexual Content/Violence, also spoilery for season 8, don't read if you don't want to be spoiled.
Summary: After being poisoned, Oliver Queen sinks into darkness, questioning his role as the Green Arrow and the sacrifices to his personal life, but when danger threatens and he's needed, will he accept the burden of a hero?
Anything But Ordinary
Chapter 1
Whose eyes am I behind
I don’t recognize anything that I see
Whose skin is this design
I don’t want this to be the way that you see me
I don’t understand anything anymore
In this world that I’m tired of
Is taking me right up these walls
That I climb up
To get to your story
It’s anything but ordinary
And when the world is on its knees with me it’s fine
And when I come to the rescue I get nothing but left behind
Everybody seems to be getting what they need where's mine
‘Cause you’re what I need so very but I’m anything but ordinary
Can you save me from this world of mine
Before I get myself arrested with this expectation
You are the one look what you’ve done
What have you done?
This is not some kind of joke
You’re just a kid
You weren’t ready for what you did
And when the world is on its knees with me it’s fine
And when I come to the rescue I do it for you time after time
Everybody seems to be getting what they need where's mine
‘Cause you’re what I need so very but I’m anything but ordinary
I think I’m trying to save the world for you
You’ve been saving me too
We could just stay in and save each other
I’m anything but ordinary
I’m anything but ordinary
--Train
He was nearly startled at his reflection in the bathroom mirror, almost unable to recognize himself. Dark circles under his eyes, his mouth felt like wads of cotton had been stuffed inside, his breath still smelling of alcohol from the night before. He brushed his teeth quickly, then gazed at himself once more. Oliver rubbed his chin, the prickle of stubble grazing his palm. He looked like shit, and felt like it too. Head pounding from a hangover, he reached for the medicine cabinet, taking out the bottle of aspirin, shaking the contents until three of them fell into his palm. He downed them with a sip of water right from the faucet, then cupping his hands under the cool running water, he splashed his face, gasping softly at the cold shock. He wiped his face hastily on the nearest towel. The water helped, but not the way he wanted. It would never wash away everything.
Since his return to Metropolis, he’d been poisoned. Now miraculously fully recovered, his near brush with death had him rethinking and questioning himself and his role as the Green Arrow. He’d lost Lois. Lost any semblance of a normal life, sacrificed it all for some crazy heroic notions, thinking he could make a difference in the world. For what? For whom? It was thankless, no one cared whether he was the Green Arrow or not. Whatever made him think he could try to change the world with a bow and arrow, some fancy high-tech gadgets, and a snazzy green leather costume? It was a joke. He was a joke.
Lois had come to visit him, and maybe, just maybe he thought, they could rekindle what they had. But he was the Green Arrow, and that made any chance between them impossible, causing him to realize that as long as he donned the green leather, he’d never have a normal life, never find someone to share his life with. It didn’t matter, nothing mattered. Hell, the last time he saw Lois, she was kissing Clark.
Oliver heard a soft moaning from the adjacent bedroom, and the rustle of bed sheets. He turned his head in the direction of the sound. A feminine voice called his name, reminding him that he’d been doing some kissing of his own lately. What was her name? His fogged brain couldn’t remember. He barely remembered the night with her, whoever she was. A smoky exclusive nightclub. A few drinks, a few smiles, a few lust-filled gazes, a suggestive comment here or there, and before he knew it, they were back at the penthouse and she’d become a vessel to fill, in an attempt to chase away the demons. He’d been a bit rough, but she didn’t seem to mind. It had been a momentary diversion, an escape, something to numb his senses, just like the other nameless, faceless women, but the demons always came back. “I’ll be right there,” he called, the sound of his own voice causing his head to pound excruciatingly. He needed to find a way to get the woman out, hoping she wouldn’t linger.
Quite a few women had their eye on Oliver Queen last night, but she’d been the one he’d taken home and bedded. She purred like a kitten. “I have to leave soon, Oliver.”
Go ahead. And don’t let the door hit you on the way out, he thought bitterly. She was just another reminder of his failure at life. “I’m coming.”
She giggled. “You said that last night, too.”
Oliver stepped into the room, to see the disheveled auburn haired beauty sitting up in his bed, sheets barely covering her. He felt nothing.
“Yeah, I guess I did,” he said, searching for a pair of track pants, and slipping them on easily. “Listen… uh…” Damn, what was her name?
The woman’s face fell upon seeing his expression, divining his thoughts. “Don’t bother,” she murmured, her voice suddenly dejected and angry. She rose from the bed and began dressing hastily.
“Look… I’m… I’m sorry,” he began. But he wasn’t sorry, he simply felt nothing.
She snorted, slipping into her high-heeled shoes. “I said, don’t bother. I know the way out.” The woman ran a hand through her long curls, lifted her chin in an attempt to retain some semblance of dignity, and strode purposefully out of the bedroom.
Oliver stood rooted to the spot without a backward glance, as she brushed past him. He heard the rumbling of the elevator, and then surprisingly the sound of the woman’s voice speaking to someone. “Ha! You’re not his girlfriend are you?"
Chloe shook her head, speechless.
“Are you next? Well, have fun! He likes it hard, just so you know, fucks like the hounds of hell are on his tail, but maybe with you, he’ll be different.”
Chloe stood dumbfounded as the woman appraised her head to toe, then squinted, as she scrutinized the petite blonde in front of her.
“You look like you can handle him,” the woman said, entering the elevator, leaving Chloe to stare after her, even after the doors closed, and the elevator rumbled again on it’s descent.
“What the hell are you doing here?”
Chloe turned at the sound of his voice. “Uh…” she mumbled, uncomfortable at her inopportune entrance. She didn’t really want to know about Oliver’s extracurricular activities, and it bothered her to have to witness the woman’s exit. If the woman’s comments were anything to go by, this was a meaningless, futile effort on his part to escape whatever he was running from. She blushed, taking in his appearance, shirtless wearing nothing but track pants, dark circles under his eyes and a day old growth of scruffy beard. “You look like shit. I’m surprised you managed to bring home anything other than a stray puppy.” Chloe intoned, motioning toward the elevator, yet trying to hide her shock and disappointment at the same time. This was a man she’d always admired, and his behavior lately was cause for concern, and she was angry with him.
He stepped closer to her, and Chloe could smell the alcohol emanating from him.
“What are you doing here, Chloe?”
“I came to check up on you. Everyone’s been worried.”
Oliver smirked. “As you can see, I’m fine. And how did you get in?”
“You gave me a key, and the pass codes, remember? And you’re not fine. Things have been happening that could use your attention. I could use your help, but the Green Arrow has been suspiciously absent when we need him most.”
“My attention? Or the Green Arrow’s attention?” he scoffed.
“Last I knew, you were both.” She looked down at her hands clasped in front of her. “Maybe there’s something I can do?” She gazed up at him, shrugging helplessly.
Oliver stared at her, his eyes hard. Can you help me believe again? Can you help me understand why sacrificing my life for others is remotely worth anything? Can you help me to know why I should care anymore? Can you show me that it’s all worth it? He didn’t want her pity, didn’t want her concern, and didn’t want her of all people to see him this way. He was silently ashamed that she’d walked in as a woman was leaving, and he hated feeling as though he’d disappointed her somehow. Damn her for making him feel anything.
“Look, I know the whole thing with Lois…”
He shook his head. “I don’t need you to coddle me, I don’t need your help,” he interrupted forcefully. “Just get out of here. Don’t you have something else to do? Something else to worry about? Like… breast-feeding Jimmy or something?” he nearly snarled the words, the disdain dripping from his voice.
He should have expected it, she was a Sullivan-Lane girl after all, but he didn’t. She slapped him, hard across the face. He deserved it, and he relished the sting of it, relished her fury. He didn’t know why he was purposefully making her angry with him, but right now it was the only thing he’d felt in a while, it was unwelcome, this feeling of something, anything, and he desperately tried to rid himself of any emotion.
He palmed his cheek where she’d slapped him, and returned her stare. “Too close to the truth, huh, Chloe? Talk to me about stray puppies, when you have your own?” Her green eyes glittered. She blinked, pressing her lips together, seeming on the verge of tears, and Oliver was surprised to find that it pained him to realize that it was within his power to make her cry. No. Don’t feel anything. But he couldn’t help himself, and guilt at his biting words to her filled him.
She’d come as a friend, out of concern for him, but this man was not the Oliver Queen she knew. “You bastard,” she hissed. “Go ahead. Dig yourself deeper into that black hole of self-pity you’ve created, enjoy it, wallow in it, because you’ll be the only guest at that party.”
He was silent as he watched her walk toward the elevator.
She turned to face him one last time. “Drink yourself into oblivion. Sleep with everything on two legs from here to Star City, it won’t change anything, it won’t make things different, it won’t make things better.” She shook her head. “I don’t know who you are anymore.”
He lowered his head, gazing down at his bare feet. “Neither do I,” he whispered.
“Find him. The world needs you,” she murmured, and just as the elevator doors closed, he thought he heard her say, “I need you, Oliver.”
Oliver slumped into the living room chair, pulsing, aching head in his hands. Damn her. He didn’t want to feel. It was better that way, easier. Nothing mattered, no one, nothing could hurt you if your heart was closed. But since Chloe Sullivan walked into his penthouse, he’d felt shame, embarrassment, anger, despair, and guilt almost all at once. He wasn’t certain how she’d done it, how she’d evoked any kind of emotion in him at all, but she had.
He stood up, heading toward his stash of liquor, thinking to get a drink. It helped him to forget, numbed his senses. Pulling a glass down from the cabinet with one hand and a bottle of whiskey in the other, he poured two fingers into the glass. Swirling it around, he then raised the glass to his lips, and caught a glimpse of his own reflection in the bottom of the glass.
The world needs you. I need you, Oliver.
Oliver lowered the glass, then suddenly drew back his arm, and in a fit of rage, threw it against the sink, causing it to shatter, amber liquid to fly.
Damn her.
I need you, Oliver.
End Chapter 1
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