Although the objective of chess is to place the king in a compromising position, every player wants to capture the other's Queen.

Chapter Four

She helped him to get up and sit down on her desk. This was beyond embarrassing. Most guys had to deal with slight screw ups and jabs at their masculinity, but he had to get thrown through a window. And not just a random window in a random building with random people whose opinions didn't matter. A Watchtower window.

Sure, this definitely proved to Chloe that he could take care of himself. Not only was he so capable of getting himself back on his own two feet without any assistance from anybody else, but he was also able to get that mysterious golden rod. Some hero he was.

Right after he sat down on the desk, she started sweeping the shards of colored glass that covered the floor. With each sweep that she made, Oliver felt his pride being thrown away. He was completely unimportant here, wasn't he? He was just sitting here helplessly.

No. This wasn't happening. Chloe was not going to take care of the entire world by herself. She would never leave the Watchtower if she did. He stood up, ignoring the pain shooting throughout his body. "I can help you."

"No. Oliver, get back on the desk. I'm almost done here."

It was an order, not a request. It was unnecessary- he was cut up, not dead. He sat back on the desk, and watched as she continued to sweep the floor. He noticed her actions speed up- almost as if she was afraid of him helping her.

She finished quickly, and sped-walked over to the other side of the room, pulled out a drawer and withdrew the first-aid kit. She ran over to the kitchen, and returned with a small bowl in her hand. She took a pair of tweezers out of the first-aid kit, and inspected his arm.

He stared at her while she avoided his gaze. She was concentrated on his arm, and let out a small breath. "This is going to hurt a little bit", she said softly.

The next thing he registered was another shot of pain in his arm. He winced slightly, trying to mask his pain. And since she was focused on the glass coming out of his arm, she didn't see his face. His ego was still semi-intact.

"I'm sorry", she said with a look of concern on her face.

There was something going on in her head- he could practically see the gears turning. What was going on in there?

"It doesn't hurt", he said with as much confidence as he could muster. He needed to be confident right now- Chloe was worried about him, not to mention Clark. The threat of an apocalypse was still hanging over their heads, and these mysterious people kidnapping and throwing people through windows probably weren't helping.

He was worried too. But he couldn't let that show.

She was in the room when that glass window broke. She could be injured too. "Chloe, are you alright?" he asked

She nodded. "I'm fine."

She finished removing the rest of the glass in his arm and reached for a cotton ball. She dipped it in some iodine, and started wiping the cuts with it. She didn't say anything else, and the small amount of pressure that was applied to the cotton ball reminded him that her fingers were behind it.

Oliver was suddenly becoming more and more consciously aware of how close she was to him right now. And was becoming more ashamed of himself as the seconds passed and he realized that she didn't even notice.

Since she was working on his right arm, he raised his left hand up, and rubbed his neck gently to keep himself distracted.

And she hadn't noticed anything. She wasn't going to say a word until he said something first.

"Nine to one says Pigeon-man's got Clark locked up in a birdcage somewhere."

No reaction. No smile, no laugh. Nothing. She just looked at him for a split second before returning her attention to his arm.

What's going on in that head of yours, Chloe?

"I don't know who the hell these people are, but they sure don't like us", he tried again. Talking just distracted him from blocking out the stinging. "Ow."

"I thought you said it didn't hurt", she said, worried, instantly removing the cotton ball.

Oh good. So, she does care. "I lied."

She grabbed his head and pushed it upwards before cleaning the cut on his forehead. "You know, you're lucky he didn't drop you from ten stories up."

Good. Keep her talking. "I don't feel lucky. As much as I hate to admit it, these people really know what they're doing." She applied extra pressure to the cut. "Ow!"

She started to open up to him, but that was over as quickly as it began. She turned her back on him, and started to walk away. He had accidentally struck a nerve.

"Don't you think it's sad that a secret society of retired super-villains can actually come out of the mothballs and tear us apart like this?"

No, it wasn't sad. They had information on the League that dated back for years. They were keeping an eye on them. He couldn't have possibly seen this coming, and neither could she.

"They know everything about us, Chloe."

"Yeah, and we don't know anything about them", she said, zipping up the first aid kit.

And then it clicked. She wasn't angry with him for not getting that magic rod. She was blaming herself for everything. For not knowing what was going on. She was mad at herself for not having the information that the other guys did.

Oliver preferred when he was a failure to her.

She grabbed the kit and walked past him. "You know, maybe it's time I gave up on bringing the band back together. Maybe this has all been a lost cause."

"Whoa! Don't give up on us yet", he said, getting up from the desk. She blamed herself for not getting the team together while everything was going on. They never did ping her back, did they?

He was not going to let her give up on the team- that would mean that she was giving up on him, and he couldn't let that happen. "We may be a bit dysfunctional and hard to wrangle at times, but when the chips are down, we're always there, Chloe."

"They took Clark out from under our noses", she said, slamming the cabinet shut.

And Oliver wasn't chopped liver. He was still here, she wasn't alone. And he needed to prove that to her. He pulled out the ninja star, and held it out. "And I took this off the winged wonder when he yanked me into the sky."

She stared at it curiously and walked over to him, taking it from his hand. She turned it over. "It looks like an antique", she said slowly. "From a museum."

He nodded. Time to come up with a plan. "Now, I say we get some reinforcements", he started, staring at her to gauge how she was feeling. It looked like she wasn't ready to give up on him yet. "Get Clark", he continued, "throw them through some windows."

She smiled for a second. "They're all busy. And all scattered in different places. There's not enough time."

He was silent for a moment, before he realized that there was a member of the team right in Metropolis. "What about John Jones?" He asked quickly before all of Chloe's hope waned.

"He doesn't have his powers anymore, remember?"

"I don't either", he reminded her. "Give him a call, send the address. Tell him to meet me there."

He pulled his hood on and reached for his glasses.

She looked out the window where the sun was rising. "Dawn", she said suddenly. "You're not going to be able to make it around without people seeing the Green Arrow in the daylight."

"Don't worry", he said automatically. "I'll be fine."

"Be careful", she told him. Oliver caught the headset that she threw his way. "Keep in touch."

"I'll keep you updated. In the meantime, get some sleep, Chloe." He didn't want to check his phone later and see that she wound up in the hospital due to frost bite and sleep deprivation again.

He put the glasses on and left her there before she could protest. Out of all of the buildings in Metropolis that the winged man could have thrown him through and he chose Watchtower. The guy had no idea, but it was personal now.