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thejusticelounge2013-07-04 12:23 pm
bossymarmalade) wrote in thejusticelounge2013-07-04 12:23 pm
Entry tags:
charybdis
Oliver pulls their construct floaty chairs through the pool in a drifting circle for a moment before saying, “So what you started to say before, about keeping up with me?"
"Oh…" Guy eyes Bruce and Selina across the pool, but they seem occupied with one another enough that he can speak openly, as long as it’s quietly. “Well. Your moods…no, not moods…um, attitudes? They kinda have changed a lot, between our previous talks and I’ve been kinda….well…confused, Ols."
Oliver considers this for a while, letting one foot trail in the water. “Okay," he says. “I can kinda see that. I guess the way to explain it would be that it depends on what I’m trying to work through at the moment, y’know? And once I do figure it out, that leaves me clear to carry on until the next thing." Ollie presses his lips together, worrying them. “So the other night I was still in mid-figuring."
"Yeah…okay. So, what about our previous talks? I mean, you still figurin’ those things out? I just like to know when things get officially resolved in Ollie and Guy world, y’know? Or, even just partially resolved."
Oliver blinks. “Well … I dunno. I don’t keep a running tabulation, Guy. I go with my gut, most of the time." He frowns, a little. “Is it really that hard to tell how I feel at any given time? I mean, jeez — I sure have trouble telling what you’re feeling! Half the time I think it’s fine, and then the other half you make the quickest exits I’ve ever seen! Like the other day with Mar’i, and at Mia’s party…."
Guy shrugs a little. “Er…Mia’s party…you mean when we left for tacos? An’ Mar’i…she was in the middle of a food party or somethin’, an’ I’d taken her away from it to talk to her. Besides, yer kid seemed to want to finish talkin’ with her. I was just excusin’ myself."
Oliver grunts. “But we waved you over! A bunch of us did. It’s not like you were intruding on anything, there was a whole gaggle of us." He clarifies, “With Mar’i, I mean. At Mia’s party I mean when you were talking to me about Roy and then suddenly you vamoosed, thin air."
Guy sighs a little. “Okay. I was just there to ask Mar’i out on a date. I didn’t want to stick around and be awkward, especially with Roy bein’ all droolin’ over her. Seems Mar’i thinks whenever I’m in the same room with him an’ her, we’re must automatically be havin’ a pissin’ contest just to impress her." He sat up a bit and leaned forward, lowering his voice, “And at Mia’s party, the two times I stepped close to you an’ Kate, ya tightened yer grip on her like I was some kind of threat to yer marriage. An’ this was after ya said you were pissed with me but still didn’t know why. Of course I moved the fuck away, I was just doin’ what ya seemed to want me to do!"
Oliver half flops over on his lounge, jaw dropped, aghast. “Guy," he says, “you being a threat to my marriage was the very last thing on my mind. Kate can do what she wants, and that includes with you. I was anxious because my estranged son just showed up at my daughter’s birthday party, and everybody was tense as fuck about it! Hanging on to Kate was the only thing keeping me calm enough to deal with it!"
"You grabbed her tighter when I came close, an’ that’s all I saw. I thought you were cool with me bein’ with Kate, at least…after I had a long talk with her about it…but the way you acted at Mia’s party the one time I tried to talk to you, that sent a whole ‘nother message. An’ it wasn’t once, it was twice, under real similar circumstances, like a proximity thing. An’ then you came to me about that body swap…Ols, I didn’t know what the fuck to think. Can you blame me for bein’ cautious?I’m not mad…I just’ve been trying to read you, an’ thinkin’ I’m doin’ it wrong from one day to the next."
"But I’m TELLING you that I wasn’t trying to warn you off of Kate. When have I ever? She’s not my property, dammit. And this was well before I talked to you about the body swap." Ollie flips back over, sitting up a little. “I would think that Roy being my main focus at Mia’s party was a gimme."
"You never have. An’ I believe you. But literally, Ollie, I drew closer, you tightened your grip. I wasn’t sure at first what to make of it. So I moved off to get cake, came back, and boom, ya did it again, right when I stepped into touchin’ range of Kate, you stepped closer and wrapped yer arm tighter around her. An’ it wasn’t just me, I saw the look on Kate’s face, an’ it looked like she noticed the same damn thing I did. So…maybe bad coincidence, or maybe it was a totally subconscious thing, but I’m just sayin’, that’s why I moved off."
"And I’m saying, you made it totally about how I was mad at you, when the truth was I was having a really rough time dealing and could’ve used my friend’s support."
"Why do you think I came over in the first place? Twice?" Guy says.
Oliver stares at him. “Jesus christ. I don’t understand why this is so hard to grasp, Guy. I’m a person, y’know. I have the same fears and pains and anguish that other people do. I wasn’t doing anything to make you feel excluded, or rejected, or to warn you off. I wasn’t thinking about you AT ALL. I was thinking about my fucking family exploding at my poor fucking daughter’s birthday party! So excuse me for not sparing a moment to worry about whether or not Guy Gardner thought I was cockblocking him!"
Guy shakes his head, maintaining his calm, steady voice. If Ollie wanted to yell, he couldn’t stop him. “I came over to be supportive. I didn’t walk away to be purposely unsupportive. An’ a few minutes ago you told me all about how you interpreted my body language. I want to make a graceful exit an’ not hang around after askin’ a girl out, and you make it all about me snubbing you and our other friends. So you’re a person with fears an’ pains an’ anguish, an’ I’m a jerk. It’s okay for you to have trouble readin’ me, but it ain’t okay for me to have trouble readin’ you." He gives Ollie a long look, “Why is it, every time I try to open up to you, or explain how I saw somethin’, or interpreted somethin’, an’ usually because you ASK…" His voice trails off, and he shakes his head. “Never mind," he says gently, “Forget it. I’m sorry, Oliver. I’m just sorry." He levitated up out of his pool recliner, and ringed on his uniform, to stand at the edge of the pool.
"I ASK because otherwise you won’t tell me anything. And this isn’t easy for me, either." Oliver flips off the lounge into the water, swimming over to where Guy stands. “But you know what, fine. Every time I talk to you, it’s the same damn thing. You treat me like I’m incapable of rational thought, you talk to me in that damn patient voice like you’re only tolerating me, and you tell me all the ways I’ve wronged you and am a hypocrite." He slaps his hands on the tile around the edge of the pool to steady himself. “You never acknowledge that I have feelings or get hurt about anything, you just bring up some example about yourself and how cruel I was to you. Fine. I can’t deal with your dishonesty and your secrets. And your constant vows to never talk to anybody because nobody, NOBODY reacts the way you want them to. Fine, I’ve failed. Fine. Fine fine fucking fine." He adds sourly, “And in case you haven’t noticed, I’m not raising my voice."
Hoisting himself out of the pool, Ollie continues, “I guess a ‘Sorry, Ollie, I didn’t realize you were having such a hard time about Roy, I misread the situation’ is too damn much to ask from somebody who calls himself my friend. No, better to repeat what happened four times and act as though I’m a callous bastard for rebuffing your kind advances."
"I can’t refute a single one of those accusations without you sayin’ I’m makin’ it about me," Guy says. "An’ I’m sorry I hurt you at Mia’s party by actin’ like I didn’t support you. I’m not patient with you, I just don’t have the energy to match your conviction in these fights. An’ as for my dishonesty? My dishonest, Ollie? Really? Ya know what? Every time we fight, it’s because you ask me somethin’, an’ I give you an honest answer, an’ you don’t like it. It reveals somethin’ horrible I thought, or did, or assumed."
"Accusations. You’re always calling it accusations. Nothing is ever a discussion, I’m always accusing you."
"Yeah. I can’t even use the right words. I’m sorry, Ollie, I don’t….I can’t deal with this discussion any more tonight, okay? I’m…not strong enough right now. I’m sorry. I need to go. I hope things go better for you with Roy. I do."
Oliver grits his teeth “Look. I don’t like this any better than you do. If you need to go, fine. I’m just … tired of this fucking merry-go-round. Getting into a damn fight was the last thing I wanted, tonight."
"What do you want me to say? If I tell you stuff, I feel like yer just gonna pass judgement. If I tell ya yer passin’ judgement, I’m makin’ about me or ignorin how I’ve hurt you. If I keep stuff to myself, I’m keepin’ secrets from you or bein’ dishonest. An’ havin’ said that, I’ve probably done somethin’ else wrong. I’m tired, Ollie. I’m physically exhausted from you tellin’ me I’m always wrong. I didn’t want to get in a fight with you either! I never did! i never fuckin’ did! All I said was “I can’t keep up with you"…an’ now it’s my fault because I said anythin’ at all in the first place. I was ….I was just pleasantly surprised that you wanted me to join you, after our last talk."
"You think I don’t feel that way? Like every time I open my mouth with you, everything gets fucked up? I feel the EXACT SAME WAYS you do, Guy, and you never seem to understand that. I wish you could just once extend me some frigging empathy, or sympathy, or listen to me without throwing one of your grievances in my face." Ollie rubs his arms, starting to get cold. “Christ, I didn’t ask you to come join us because I think the worst of you. I always hope for the best, and then you just knock me down again."
Guy sighs heavily. “I disagree, Ollie. I fuckin’ try to listen to you ALL the time. But y’know, you don’t come to me with your problems. You come to me when you think you need to clarify somethin’ with me. You come to me when you wanna tell me how I harbor bad feelin’s towards you for livin’ in my body for a week, even when I don’t. You come to me when you think I got some secret, an’ you wanna know it. But when I come to you an’ ask you about your problems, or…or I try an’ help you, or just invite ya to let me listen? Offer you a chance to talk about it…usher ya to comfortable chairs to talk…you tell me you don’t need to talk about it, an’ ya leave. An’ that’s fine…but don’t fuckin’ say I don’t have empathy, or don’t listen to you, because I really don’t think I’m the person ya come to when you have a problem."
"Guy. I didn’t want to be ushered to comfortable chairs. You can’t … I’m not shy about telling you what I need, but you won’t do those things. You do what YOU would like people to do for you." Oliver rubs his forehead. “I wanted to talk to you more, but goddammit, being cooed at like that set my teeth on edge."
"I don’t care whether yer shy or not about tellin’ me, the simple fact remains, you DON’T tell me what you need. You don’t even give me the fuckin’ CHANCE to help you. An’ then you call me apathetic an’ say I don’t listen to you. I WANTED to hep you, I WANTED you to talk to me more. And Ollie, it ISN’T the only time. You can’t be pissed at me for keepin’ secrets from you or…fuck…for bein’ DISHONEST with you, when I bust my balls tryin’ to be there for you when I see you have a problem…but you have other people you’d rather confide in, and dude, I am so glad for you that you do!! But don’t say I ain’t willing to be that person! YOU choose who you turn to, not me."
"But why would I, though? You interpret everything in the very worst way! I wasn’t trying to say that you harbour bad feelings towards me, or that you resent me. I was saying that maybe you felt vulnerable, and it was making things weird between us. To me, there’s a world of difference between feeling vulnerable, and being resentful. But you thought I meant resentful, even though that’s not what I said." Oliver sits down, heavily, feet trailing in the water. “Ahh, god," he mutters. “I wish it didn’t always come round like this."
"Ollie, even when I told you I didn’t feel that way, YOU repeated it. You didn’t believe I was bein’ honest with you. In fact…I was VERY honest with you about too much, an’ it didn’t even register with you, probably because you were there to make me face whatever repressed feelings you decided i must have before you even asked me. I get you were upset, that somethin’ about that week still bothers you. I get that, an’ I hope ya work it out. But…I’ve given ya no reason to think I felt weird towards you about all that. If anythin’, the opposite." Guy shakes his head. “An’ no, that’s ISN’T a grievance, man…it isn’t."
Oliver waves a hand. “That’s fine, I get it now. I understand. I mean, you explained it to me, I understand. I was mis-applying something else that I was feeling, and still working through. The thing that I was going to tell you but didn’t." He considers. “Well, I guess I halfway told you, anyhow…."
"Look…all I’m sayin’ is, I listen. I’m willin’ to help. An’ I’m not the asshole that maybe you are feelin’ like I am. I wish ya didn’t feel like that, but…you’re not ready, maybe. That’s really okay, if you aren’t." He sits down next to him, letting his uniformed legs hang in the water, and rings on a bathrobe over Ollie’s shoulders without comment about it. “Do ya want to tell me now? The other half?"
Oliver swishes his legs for a while. “This doesn’t actually have anything to do with you," Ollie says, with a fair amount of worry in his voice. “I wanna make that clear. It just came up because of not being in my own body. Okay?"
Guy nods. “I understand. I believed you when ya left an’ said it was misdirected or somethin’ like that. It’s cool." He continues, “The swap was the trigger for somethin’ else, then."
"Yeah. It’s hard for me to talk about, is all. It’s … it’s fucking terrifying to talk about."
"Well, is there anythin’ I can do before ya start, to make it easier? Need a drink?"
"Heh, no, that’s fine. Nothing really makes it easier." Ollie shifts some more, tugging the bathrobe tighter. “Something like … almost ten years ago, this happened. I was tracking a woman, an archer like me. And she wanted … she shot me, with an arrow. Just missed my heart." He rubs his chest, absently. “Kept me drugged to the gills while I was recovering and raped me." Ollie grimaces when he says it, mouth moving like he’s tasting blood.
Guy ‘s brows knit in sympathy and concern. This was so similar to Dick’s story about Tarantula. “I’m so sorry, Ollie" he says with sincere sympathy.
Oliver blinks, tiredly. “I thought this would maybe get easier the more I said it," he mumbles. “But maybe not so much. I just hate hauling this secret around all the time."
"No violation gets totally painless. But every victim copes differently. Maybe more people close to you that know, will help. I think it will."
Oliver all but doubles over, folding his arms over his knees. “She had a baby," he says faintly. “That’s why she fucked me for so long. To make sure she got pregnant. I’d be mindless for days, and then come to, and then days again. By the time I could actually stand up and move around I didn’t know what the fuck had happened to me."
Tentatively, Guy touches Ollie’s shoulder in silent support, ready to withdraw if Ollie shows any negative reaction to the gesture. He doesn’t interrupt, he just lets Ollie speak.
"I stayed with her after that. Slept with her. I don’t know. I don’t know why." He turns his head, looking in Guy’s direction if not exactly *at* Guy. “Can you believe that? Hating myself the whole time for cheating on Dinah. Christ."
Guy squeezes his shoulder a little, and nods, murmuring, “Yeah," to let him know he’s hearing him, he’s listening.
Oliver draws in a deep breath and sits up. “So," he says, and there’s a raw, guarded sound to his voice. “Does that change how you think of me, or what?"
Guy switches from squeezing Ollie’s shoulder, to rubbing his back behind it, as he shakes his head slowly, “No. Not negatively, Ollie. I think I understand you a little better…I am glad you told me. Thank you, for that. I’m sorry for what she took from you, man."
Oliver laughs, harshly. “Don’t feel sorry for me. Feel sorry for the son I haven’t bothered to go get back from his murderous mother. Classic Ollie Queen, hey?"
"You’re hatin’ on yourself pretty hard there. I’m not so sure you deserve it like ya think ya do."
"He was just a baby. I should have done something when I found out, after Dinah and me tried and tried to have our own and we couldn’t…."
Guy thinks back to the things Ollie’s done to comfort others…things Guy felt physically comforting when he was in Ollie’s body. He tugs on a lock of Ollie’s hair gently, “You were raped. No one would have expected you, back then, to go after that child. How do you feel now about him?"
Oliver pushes his head against Guy’s fingers without another thought. “I dunno. I’ve thought about it, finding him, bringing him back to the family, and … god, it’s too much. I’d have to explain to everybody who he is. I’d have to worry about Shado coming to get him, and we’ve already got Cheshire to worry about. I’d have to … she named him Robert. She named him after my dad."
Guy continues the finger-play through Ollie’s hair, responding as Ollie responds. “No matter what you decide, your family loves you, and would support you. And so would your friends. Man….that’s heavy, naming him after your dad. Like she wanted to make it impossible for your child with her to be forgettable. Maybe she wanted this, too….for it to haunt you like this."
"Maybe. But she also told me she didn’t want me in his life. I don’t know if he even knows who his father is. God, it’s so fucked up."
"Just an outsider’s opinion, but…to hell with what she wants, y’know? She doesn’t deserve that kind of consideration, not after what she did to you."
Oliver slumps over, halfway onto Guy. “No. I suppose not. But I still don’t know if I can handle having Robert." Ollie breathes in, then out, in a measured pace, like he’s trying to stabilize himself. “Christ, I feel wrung out. I blocked out so much of this, just like I blocked out seeing — when my parents got killed, just like I blocked out half of boarding school. I thought I’d stopped doing that once I, y’know, became an adult. I thought that was just a coping mechanism when I was a kid."
"It’s pretty draining, when you let a floodgate open up on an emotional dam. But no, it’s totally not limited to kids. Your brain will do whatever works to protect yourself, yknow? That’s why adults get triggered all the time." He slips an arm around Ollie, supporting him, warming him, physically reminding him he’s not alone. “You don’t need to decide about Robert, certainly not right now. But when you can, try to forgive yourself, buddy. You ARE a good man. I still know that about you, Ollie."
Oliver takes one more deep, hoarse breath, then nudges against Guy. “Thanks for saying that," he says, “though right at this moment, it’s not sinking in much. You know how it goes, this fuckin’ two-step."
"I do…" he says softly. He does know. “I’ll be sure to say it another time, when it will sink in better. You deserve to feel like a good man. I don’t want ya to feel like anythin’ less, Ols." He sighs, and pulls Ollie into a hug, as comfortably as they can hug while sitting side-by-side on the edge of a pool. He can feel the robe is damp, and Ollie’s hair is comparably icy against Guy’s cheek. “C’mon…you’re cold. Plus the stress probably has your back in knots. A hot tub would do ya good."
"Okay. Be sure to pull me out if I fall asleep, though. Or at least kinda drape me over the side."
"Consider me yer green lifeguard, but better lookin’ than Hasslehoff."
Oliver snorts, getting painfully to his feet. “I hear that." He starts shuffling towards the hot tubs, and says as they go, “I know it ain’t easy listening to this kind of stuff. I appreciate it."
"Anythin’ for a friend, Ols. I’m just glad I could help. For real, this time. Thanks for trustin’ me," he says, his arm around Ollie all the way to the tub. He lets Ollie get in first, and then sinks in next to him dissolving the uniform away as he immerses himself in the hot water, and hits the jets and timer with his ring so that neither of them have to get up. “How’s that?"
Oliver moans, sinking down to position himself just right in front of the jets. “Perfect. More than. I think I’ll while away the rest of the month in here."
"Seconded. No wonder the girls went straight to th hot tub instead of the pool. It wasn’t to avoid us men. Nope. Let’s go with that story."
"Sounds much more likely." He’s already starting to sound drowsy, the warmth and exhaustion of confession hitting at once. “Smart ladies."
Guy edges closer to Ollie, and starts massaging his shoulders. “Hey…no fallin’ asleep just yet." On impulse, he kisses Ollie behind his left ear.
Oliver tilts his head a little and rolls his shoulders against Guy’s hands. “S’okay … I’m good for a little while. Not gonna drown, anyhow." He snorts, softly. “Would be easier if I had one’a those lil’ rings…"
"Yeah?" Guy practically purrs, “What would ya do with one, if ya had one right now?"
Oliver holds up one hand, fingers spread out. “Make gills?" he offers. “Or some kind of head-bubble, or … tentacles, or a vestigial tail. Which wouldn’t help anything but they’re kinda cool." Ollie laughs, sounding faintly punch-drunk.
Guy smiles to himself. " I can do the head-bubble…" He focuses his will, and surrounds Ollie in a faint green light from his neck up, the expands it out, to a clear bubble helmet, including life support. “There ya go…ya can go diving and not worry about chlorine in yer eyes."
Oliver instantly sinks down into the water, ducking so it’ll cover his head, before unfolding himself back up again. “Very handy," he says approvingly, patting the head-bubble all over. “I’d buy one for home and one for the office."
Guy gives him the thumbs up. “Though…the only problem is, ya can’t eat, drink, or make out with it on."
"Well goddamn. You’re right about that."
"I better get rid of it for you…y’know, before ya starve, dehydrate, or…"
"Un-make out?" Oliver rolls his head back and lets his mouth fall open, sticking his tongue out as if dying. Guy feigns alarm, and constructs a hammer, then “shatters" the construct before it vanishes from around Ollie’s head. “There, saved you!" he grins.
"Whoo-hoo!" Ollie raises both fists, somewhat wobbily, in a gesture of triumph. “Man, I feel a lot better, but I should probably head home now. Much longer of this blissful warmth and I’ll be done in for the night."
"No problem," Guy says cheerfully, and levitates Ollie out of the tub, wrapping him again in a robe, this time with fuzzy bunny slippers. “Those’ll get ya to the locker room, at least. I should probably head back to my quarters too."
"…Hey, Ols? Quick question…What…what was that thing ya said ya needed, that I wouldn’t do? Or, that ya think I wasn’t willin’ to do?"
Oliver scrunches his face, rubbing his palm against his forehead. “I said that? Fuck, I can’t remember right now, Gardner, I’m sorry. When was this? Not tonight, was it? D’you remember the context?"
"It’s okay, man. You’re tired. If you wanna tell me another time, that’s okay too. But the context was that ya didn’t want to be ushered into comfy chairs, an’ ya weren’t shy about tellin’ me what ya need, but that I wasn’t willin’ to do those things, an’ that I did only what I wanted people to do for me. Does that ring any bells for ya? If not, don’t sweat it, I know it’s late…"
"Oh! I — no, it wasn’t anything specific. I meant that what gets me to open up or feel like I’m being heard isn’t what does it for you, necessarily. I meant like you need to learn my language, and I’m tryinna learn yours." He grins, lopsided and sloppy. “I think we did an okay job, considering it was kinda shakin’ in the middle parts there."
Guy isn’t sure whether Ollie means the middle of his sharing about what happened to him, or the middle of the entire discussion. But he decides, silently, that he’s not sure he wants to know. It hurts to hear right now. “Ah, okay. Thanks, I wondered…" he says, nodding, affecting what he believes is a smile. “I’l let ya get on with gettin’ dressed an’ headin’ home. Have a good night, Ollie. Talk to me, anytime, if you want to."
Oliver pauses, putting his hand on Guy’s arm. “I get the feeling you wanted to hear a different answer," he says, unsurely. “I … I wish you’d tell me what it is you’re looking for, Guy. I’m kinda floundering hoping to figure it out and always feeling it slip outta my hands."
Guy swallows. “I wasn’t…looking, exactly. I thought you were gonna say that what ya needed, that ya thought I wouldn’t do, was…physical in nature. I thought ya’d meant…that ya needed sex when ya felt like this, on account of how you reached out to Dick for that comfort before…an’ I thought ya figured I wouldn’t do it, on account of I refused ya durin’ our body swap…which is what I thought you were tryin’ to talk to me about the other day." Guy adds, “Fuck I hope that made a lick of sense…"
Oliver worries at his lip. “I see," he says slowly, then adds when Guy looks worried, “it wasn’t like this. With Dick, when it happened with Dick. That wasn’t really comfort, that was me being in a terrible, scared, wounded headspace and using sex as a way to try and dull the pain, drown it out. I’m not in that kind of headspace right now, Guy. It’s a good thing, believe me."
"I ain’t tryin’ to reopen old wounds or pass judgement, Oliver. An’ I’m glad that you’re in a better headspace. I was just curious about what ya thought I wouldn’t do. I thought it was a specific thing." There’s a brief, almost awkward silence, and Guy rushed to fill it, “An’ besides…even if ya did turn to sex for comfort, it’s none of my business. It’s all good, Oliver."
Oliver smiles at him, and this time it’s wide, brilliant. “Okay. It’s something I’m trying to not do anymore, is what, when I’m upset. Only when I’m in a good frame of mind and with people who it won’t get me in trouble with, heh." He leans forward to wrap his arms around Guy, scrunching him tight. “G’night, Gardner."
"G’night, Queen," he responds, returning the hug tightly. “Take care." Floats out of the hot tub and pool area, and out the main Gym doors, to his room for a good night’s rest.
"Oh…" Guy eyes Bruce and Selina across the pool, but they seem occupied with one another enough that he can speak openly, as long as it’s quietly. “Well. Your moods…no, not moods…um, attitudes? They kinda have changed a lot, between our previous talks and I’ve been kinda….well…confused, Ols."
Oliver considers this for a while, letting one foot trail in the water. “Okay," he says. “I can kinda see that. I guess the way to explain it would be that it depends on what I’m trying to work through at the moment, y’know? And once I do figure it out, that leaves me clear to carry on until the next thing." Ollie presses his lips together, worrying them. “So the other night I was still in mid-figuring."
"Yeah…okay. So, what about our previous talks? I mean, you still figurin’ those things out? I just like to know when things get officially resolved in Ollie and Guy world, y’know? Or, even just partially resolved."
Oliver blinks. “Well … I dunno. I don’t keep a running tabulation, Guy. I go with my gut, most of the time." He frowns, a little. “Is it really that hard to tell how I feel at any given time? I mean, jeez — I sure have trouble telling what you’re feeling! Half the time I think it’s fine, and then the other half you make the quickest exits I’ve ever seen! Like the other day with Mar’i, and at Mia’s party…."
Guy shrugs a little. “Er…Mia’s party…you mean when we left for tacos? An’ Mar’i…she was in the middle of a food party or somethin’, an’ I’d taken her away from it to talk to her. Besides, yer kid seemed to want to finish talkin’ with her. I was just excusin’ myself."
Oliver grunts. “But we waved you over! A bunch of us did. It’s not like you were intruding on anything, there was a whole gaggle of us." He clarifies, “With Mar’i, I mean. At Mia’s party I mean when you were talking to me about Roy and then suddenly you vamoosed, thin air."
Guy sighs a little. “Okay. I was just there to ask Mar’i out on a date. I didn’t want to stick around and be awkward, especially with Roy bein’ all droolin’ over her. Seems Mar’i thinks whenever I’m in the same room with him an’ her, we’re must automatically be havin’ a pissin’ contest just to impress her." He sat up a bit and leaned forward, lowering his voice, “And at Mia’s party, the two times I stepped close to you an’ Kate, ya tightened yer grip on her like I was some kind of threat to yer marriage. An’ this was after ya said you were pissed with me but still didn’t know why. Of course I moved the fuck away, I was just doin’ what ya seemed to want me to do!"
Oliver half flops over on his lounge, jaw dropped, aghast. “Guy," he says, “you being a threat to my marriage was the very last thing on my mind. Kate can do what she wants, and that includes with you. I was anxious because my estranged son just showed up at my daughter’s birthday party, and everybody was tense as fuck about it! Hanging on to Kate was the only thing keeping me calm enough to deal with it!"
"You grabbed her tighter when I came close, an’ that’s all I saw. I thought you were cool with me bein’ with Kate, at least…after I had a long talk with her about it…but the way you acted at Mia’s party the one time I tried to talk to you, that sent a whole ‘nother message. An’ it wasn’t once, it was twice, under real similar circumstances, like a proximity thing. An’ then you came to me about that body swap…Ols, I didn’t know what the fuck to think. Can you blame me for bein’ cautious?I’m not mad…I just’ve been trying to read you, an’ thinkin’ I’m doin’ it wrong from one day to the next."
"But I’m TELLING you that I wasn’t trying to warn you off of Kate. When have I ever? She’s not my property, dammit. And this was well before I talked to you about the body swap." Ollie flips back over, sitting up a little. “I would think that Roy being my main focus at Mia’s party was a gimme."
"You never have. An’ I believe you. But literally, Ollie, I drew closer, you tightened your grip. I wasn’t sure at first what to make of it. So I moved off to get cake, came back, and boom, ya did it again, right when I stepped into touchin’ range of Kate, you stepped closer and wrapped yer arm tighter around her. An’ it wasn’t just me, I saw the look on Kate’s face, an’ it looked like she noticed the same damn thing I did. So…maybe bad coincidence, or maybe it was a totally subconscious thing, but I’m just sayin’, that’s why I moved off."
"And I’m saying, you made it totally about how I was mad at you, when the truth was I was having a really rough time dealing and could’ve used my friend’s support."
"Why do you think I came over in the first place? Twice?" Guy says.
Oliver stares at him. “Jesus christ. I don’t understand why this is so hard to grasp, Guy. I’m a person, y’know. I have the same fears and pains and anguish that other people do. I wasn’t doing anything to make you feel excluded, or rejected, or to warn you off. I wasn’t thinking about you AT ALL. I was thinking about my fucking family exploding at my poor fucking daughter’s birthday party! So excuse me for not sparing a moment to worry about whether or not Guy Gardner thought I was cockblocking him!"
Guy shakes his head, maintaining his calm, steady voice. If Ollie wanted to yell, he couldn’t stop him. “I came over to be supportive. I didn’t walk away to be purposely unsupportive. An’ a few minutes ago you told me all about how you interpreted my body language. I want to make a graceful exit an’ not hang around after askin’ a girl out, and you make it all about me snubbing you and our other friends. So you’re a person with fears an’ pains an’ anguish, an’ I’m a jerk. It’s okay for you to have trouble readin’ me, but it ain’t okay for me to have trouble readin’ you." He gives Ollie a long look, “Why is it, every time I try to open up to you, or explain how I saw somethin’, or interpreted somethin’, an’ usually because you ASK…" His voice trails off, and he shakes his head. “Never mind," he says gently, “Forget it. I’m sorry, Oliver. I’m just sorry." He levitated up out of his pool recliner, and ringed on his uniform, to stand at the edge of the pool.
"I ASK because otherwise you won’t tell me anything. And this isn’t easy for me, either." Oliver flips off the lounge into the water, swimming over to where Guy stands. “But you know what, fine. Every time I talk to you, it’s the same damn thing. You treat me like I’m incapable of rational thought, you talk to me in that damn patient voice like you’re only tolerating me, and you tell me all the ways I’ve wronged you and am a hypocrite." He slaps his hands on the tile around the edge of the pool to steady himself. “You never acknowledge that I have feelings or get hurt about anything, you just bring up some example about yourself and how cruel I was to you. Fine. I can’t deal with your dishonesty and your secrets. And your constant vows to never talk to anybody because nobody, NOBODY reacts the way you want them to. Fine, I’ve failed. Fine. Fine fine fucking fine." He adds sourly, “And in case you haven’t noticed, I’m not raising my voice."
Hoisting himself out of the pool, Ollie continues, “I guess a ‘Sorry, Ollie, I didn’t realize you were having such a hard time about Roy, I misread the situation’ is too damn much to ask from somebody who calls himself my friend. No, better to repeat what happened four times and act as though I’m a callous bastard for rebuffing your kind advances."
"I can’t refute a single one of those accusations without you sayin’ I’m makin’ it about me," Guy says. "An’ I’m sorry I hurt you at Mia’s party by actin’ like I didn’t support you. I’m not patient with you, I just don’t have the energy to match your conviction in these fights. An’ as for my dishonesty? My dishonest, Ollie? Really? Ya know what? Every time we fight, it’s because you ask me somethin’, an’ I give you an honest answer, an’ you don’t like it. It reveals somethin’ horrible I thought, or did, or assumed."
"Accusations. You’re always calling it accusations. Nothing is ever a discussion, I’m always accusing you."
"Yeah. I can’t even use the right words. I’m sorry, Ollie, I don’t….I can’t deal with this discussion any more tonight, okay? I’m…not strong enough right now. I’m sorry. I need to go. I hope things go better for you with Roy. I do."
Oliver grits his teeth “Look. I don’t like this any better than you do. If you need to go, fine. I’m just … tired of this fucking merry-go-round. Getting into a damn fight was the last thing I wanted, tonight."
"What do you want me to say? If I tell you stuff, I feel like yer just gonna pass judgement. If I tell ya yer passin’ judgement, I’m makin’ about me or ignorin how I’ve hurt you. If I keep stuff to myself, I’m keepin’ secrets from you or bein’ dishonest. An’ havin’ said that, I’ve probably done somethin’ else wrong. I’m tired, Ollie. I’m physically exhausted from you tellin’ me I’m always wrong. I didn’t want to get in a fight with you either! I never did! i never fuckin’ did! All I said was “I can’t keep up with you"…an’ now it’s my fault because I said anythin’ at all in the first place. I was ….I was just pleasantly surprised that you wanted me to join you, after our last talk."
"You think I don’t feel that way? Like every time I open my mouth with you, everything gets fucked up? I feel the EXACT SAME WAYS you do, Guy, and you never seem to understand that. I wish you could just once extend me some frigging empathy, or sympathy, or listen to me without throwing one of your grievances in my face." Ollie rubs his arms, starting to get cold. “Christ, I didn’t ask you to come join us because I think the worst of you. I always hope for the best, and then you just knock me down again."
Guy sighs heavily. “I disagree, Ollie. I fuckin’ try to listen to you ALL the time. But y’know, you don’t come to me with your problems. You come to me when you think you need to clarify somethin’ with me. You come to me when you wanna tell me how I harbor bad feelin’s towards you for livin’ in my body for a week, even when I don’t. You come to me when you think I got some secret, an’ you wanna know it. But when I come to you an’ ask you about your problems, or…or I try an’ help you, or just invite ya to let me listen? Offer you a chance to talk about it…usher ya to comfortable chairs to talk…you tell me you don’t need to talk about it, an’ ya leave. An’ that’s fine…but don’t fuckin’ say I don’t have empathy, or don’t listen to you, because I really don’t think I’m the person ya come to when you have a problem."
"Guy. I didn’t want to be ushered to comfortable chairs. You can’t … I’m not shy about telling you what I need, but you won’t do those things. You do what YOU would like people to do for you." Oliver rubs his forehead. “I wanted to talk to you more, but goddammit, being cooed at like that set my teeth on edge."
"I don’t care whether yer shy or not about tellin’ me, the simple fact remains, you DON’T tell me what you need. You don’t even give me the fuckin’ CHANCE to help you. An’ then you call me apathetic an’ say I don’t listen to you. I WANTED to hep you, I WANTED you to talk to me more. And Ollie, it ISN’T the only time. You can’t be pissed at me for keepin’ secrets from you or…fuck…for bein’ DISHONEST with you, when I bust my balls tryin’ to be there for you when I see you have a problem…but you have other people you’d rather confide in, and dude, I am so glad for you that you do!! But don’t say I ain’t willing to be that person! YOU choose who you turn to, not me."
"But why would I, though? You interpret everything in the very worst way! I wasn’t trying to say that you harbour bad feelings towards me, or that you resent me. I was saying that maybe you felt vulnerable, and it was making things weird between us. To me, there’s a world of difference between feeling vulnerable, and being resentful. But you thought I meant resentful, even though that’s not what I said." Oliver sits down, heavily, feet trailing in the water. “Ahh, god," he mutters. “I wish it didn’t always come round like this."
"Ollie, even when I told you I didn’t feel that way, YOU repeated it. You didn’t believe I was bein’ honest with you. In fact…I was VERY honest with you about too much, an’ it didn’t even register with you, probably because you were there to make me face whatever repressed feelings you decided i must have before you even asked me. I get you were upset, that somethin’ about that week still bothers you. I get that, an’ I hope ya work it out. But…I’ve given ya no reason to think I felt weird towards you about all that. If anythin’, the opposite." Guy shakes his head. “An’ no, that’s ISN’T a grievance, man…it isn’t."
Oliver waves a hand. “That’s fine, I get it now. I understand. I mean, you explained it to me, I understand. I was mis-applying something else that I was feeling, and still working through. The thing that I was going to tell you but didn’t." He considers. “Well, I guess I halfway told you, anyhow…."
"Look…all I’m sayin’ is, I listen. I’m willin’ to help. An’ I’m not the asshole that maybe you are feelin’ like I am. I wish ya didn’t feel like that, but…you’re not ready, maybe. That’s really okay, if you aren’t." He sits down next to him, letting his uniformed legs hang in the water, and rings on a bathrobe over Ollie’s shoulders without comment about it. “Do ya want to tell me now? The other half?"
Oliver swishes his legs for a while. “This doesn’t actually have anything to do with you," Ollie says, with a fair amount of worry in his voice. “I wanna make that clear. It just came up because of not being in my own body. Okay?"
Guy nods. “I understand. I believed you when ya left an’ said it was misdirected or somethin’ like that. It’s cool." He continues, “The swap was the trigger for somethin’ else, then."
"Yeah. It’s hard for me to talk about, is all. It’s … it’s fucking terrifying to talk about."
"Well, is there anythin’ I can do before ya start, to make it easier? Need a drink?"
"Heh, no, that’s fine. Nothing really makes it easier." Ollie shifts some more, tugging the bathrobe tighter. “Something like … almost ten years ago, this happened. I was tracking a woman, an archer like me. And she wanted … she shot me, with an arrow. Just missed my heart." He rubs his chest, absently. “Kept me drugged to the gills while I was recovering and raped me." Ollie grimaces when he says it, mouth moving like he’s tasting blood.
Guy ‘s brows knit in sympathy and concern. This was so similar to Dick’s story about Tarantula. “I’m so sorry, Ollie" he says with sincere sympathy.
Oliver blinks, tiredly. “I thought this would maybe get easier the more I said it," he mumbles. “But maybe not so much. I just hate hauling this secret around all the time."
"No violation gets totally painless. But every victim copes differently. Maybe more people close to you that know, will help. I think it will."
Oliver all but doubles over, folding his arms over his knees. “She had a baby," he says faintly. “That’s why she fucked me for so long. To make sure she got pregnant. I’d be mindless for days, and then come to, and then days again. By the time I could actually stand up and move around I didn’t know what the fuck had happened to me."
Tentatively, Guy touches Ollie’s shoulder in silent support, ready to withdraw if Ollie shows any negative reaction to the gesture. He doesn’t interrupt, he just lets Ollie speak.
"I stayed with her after that. Slept with her. I don’t know. I don’t know why." He turns his head, looking in Guy’s direction if not exactly *at* Guy. “Can you believe that? Hating myself the whole time for cheating on Dinah. Christ."
Guy squeezes his shoulder a little, and nods, murmuring, “Yeah," to let him know he’s hearing him, he’s listening.
Oliver draws in a deep breath and sits up. “So," he says, and there’s a raw, guarded sound to his voice. “Does that change how you think of me, or what?"
Guy switches from squeezing Ollie’s shoulder, to rubbing his back behind it, as he shakes his head slowly, “No. Not negatively, Ollie. I think I understand you a little better…I am glad you told me. Thank you, for that. I’m sorry for what she took from you, man."
Oliver laughs, harshly. “Don’t feel sorry for me. Feel sorry for the son I haven’t bothered to go get back from his murderous mother. Classic Ollie Queen, hey?"
"You’re hatin’ on yourself pretty hard there. I’m not so sure you deserve it like ya think ya do."
"He was just a baby. I should have done something when I found out, after Dinah and me tried and tried to have our own and we couldn’t…."
Guy thinks back to the things Ollie’s done to comfort others…things Guy felt physically comforting when he was in Ollie’s body. He tugs on a lock of Ollie’s hair gently, “You were raped. No one would have expected you, back then, to go after that child. How do you feel now about him?"
Oliver pushes his head against Guy’s fingers without another thought. “I dunno. I’ve thought about it, finding him, bringing him back to the family, and … god, it’s too much. I’d have to explain to everybody who he is. I’d have to worry about Shado coming to get him, and we’ve already got Cheshire to worry about. I’d have to … she named him Robert. She named him after my dad."
Guy continues the finger-play through Ollie’s hair, responding as Ollie responds. “No matter what you decide, your family loves you, and would support you. And so would your friends. Man….that’s heavy, naming him after your dad. Like she wanted to make it impossible for your child with her to be forgettable. Maybe she wanted this, too….for it to haunt you like this."
"Maybe. But she also told me she didn’t want me in his life. I don’t know if he even knows who his father is. God, it’s so fucked up."
"Just an outsider’s opinion, but…to hell with what she wants, y’know? She doesn’t deserve that kind of consideration, not after what she did to you."
Oliver slumps over, halfway onto Guy. “No. I suppose not. But I still don’t know if I can handle having Robert." Ollie breathes in, then out, in a measured pace, like he’s trying to stabilize himself. “Christ, I feel wrung out. I blocked out so much of this, just like I blocked out seeing — when my parents got killed, just like I blocked out half of boarding school. I thought I’d stopped doing that once I, y’know, became an adult. I thought that was just a coping mechanism when I was a kid."
"It’s pretty draining, when you let a floodgate open up on an emotional dam. But no, it’s totally not limited to kids. Your brain will do whatever works to protect yourself, yknow? That’s why adults get triggered all the time." He slips an arm around Ollie, supporting him, warming him, physically reminding him he’s not alone. “You don’t need to decide about Robert, certainly not right now. But when you can, try to forgive yourself, buddy. You ARE a good man. I still know that about you, Ollie."
Oliver takes one more deep, hoarse breath, then nudges against Guy. “Thanks for saying that," he says, “though right at this moment, it’s not sinking in much. You know how it goes, this fuckin’ two-step."
"I do…" he says softly. He does know. “I’ll be sure to say it another time, when it will sink in better. You deserve to feel like a good man. I don’t want ya to feel like anythin’ less, Ols." He sighs, and pulls Ollie into a hug, as comfortably as they can hug while sitting side-by-side on the edge of a pool. He can feel the robe is damp, and Ollie’s hair is comparably icy against Guy’s cheek. “C’mon…you’re cold. Plus the stress probably has your back in knots. A hot tub would do ya good."
"Okay. Be sure to pull me out if I fall asleep, though. Or at least kinda drape me over the side."
"Consider me yer green lifeguard, but better lookin’ than Hasslehoff."
Oliver snorts, getting painfully to his feet. “I hear that." He starts shuffling towards the hot tubs, and says as they go, “I know it ain’t easy listening to this kind of stuff. I appreciate it."
"Anythin’ for a friend, Ols. I’m just glad I could help. For real, this time. Thanks for trustin’ me," he says, his arm around Ollie all the way to the tub. He lets Ollie get in first, and then sinks in next to him dissolving the uniform away as he immerses himself in the hot water, and hits the jets and timer with his ring so that neither of them have to get up. “How’s that?"
Oliver moans, sinking down to position himself just right in front of the jets. “Perfect. More than. I think I’ll while away the rest of the month in here."
"Seconded. No wonder the girls went straight to th hot tub instead of the pool. It wasn’t to avoid us men. Nope. Let’s go with that story."
"Sounds much more likely." He’s already starting to sound drowsy, the warmth and exhaustion of confession hitting at once. “Smart ladies."
Guy edges closer to Ollie, and starts massaging his shoulders. “Hey…no fallin’ asleep just yet." On impulse, he kisses Ollie behind his left ear.
Oliver tilts his head a little and rolls his shoulders against Guy’s hands. “S’okay … I’m good for a little while. Not gonna drown, anyhow." He snorts, softly. “Would be easier if I had one’a those lil’ rings…"
"Yeah?" Guy practically purrs, “What would ya do with one, if ya had one right now?"
Oliver holds up one hand, fingers spread out. “Make gills?" he offers. “Or some kind of head-bubble, or … tentacles, or a vestigial tail. Which wouldn’t help anything but they’re kinda cool." Ollie laughs, sounding faintly punch-drunk.
Guy smiles to himself. " I can do the head-bubble…" He focuses his will, and surrounds Ollie in a faint green light from his neck up, the expands it out, to a clear bubble helmet, including life support. “There ya go…ya can go diving and not worry about chlorine in yer eyes."
Oliver instantly sinks down into the water, ducking so it’ll cover his head, before unfolding himself back up again. “Very handy," he says approvingly, patting the head-bubble all over. “I’d buy one for home and one for the office."
Guy gives him the thumbs up. “Though…the only problem is, ya can’t eat, drink, or make out with it on."
"Well goddamn. You’re right about that."
"I better get rid of it for you…y’know, before ya starve, dehydrate, or…"
"Un-make out?" Oliver rolls his head back and lets his mouth fall open, sticking his tongue out as if dying. Guy feigns alarm, and constructs a hammer, then “shatters" the construct before it vanishes from around Ollie’s head. “There, saved you!" he grins.
"Whoo-hoo!" Ollie raises both fists, somewhat wobbily, in a gesture of triumph. “Man, I feel a lot better, but I should probably head home now. Much longer of this blissful warmth and I’ll be done in for the night."
"No problem," Guy says cheerfully, and levitates Ollie out of the tub, wrapping him again in a robe, this time with fuzzy bunny slippers. “Those’ll get ya to the locker room, at least. I should probably head back to my quarters too."
"…Hey, Ols? Quick question…What…what was that thing ya said ya needed, that I wouldn’t do? Or, that ya think I wasn’t willin’ to do?"
Oliver scrunches his face, rubbing his palm against his forehead. “I said that? Fuck, I can’t remember right now, Gardner, I’m sorry. When was this? Not tonight, was it? D’you remember the context?"
"It’s okay, man. You’re tired. If you wanna tell me another time, that’s okay too. But the context was that ya didn’t want to be ushered into comfy chairs, an’ ya weren’t shy about tellin’ me what ya need, but that I wasn’t willin’ to do those things, an’ that I did only what I wanted people to do for me. Does that ring any bells for ya? If not, don’t sweat it, I know it’s late…"
"Oh! I — no, it wasn’t anything specific. I meant that what gets me to open up or feel like I’m being heard isn’t what does it for you, necessarily. I meant like you need to learn my language, and I’m tryinna learn yours." He grins, lopsided and sloppy. “I think we did an okay job, considering it was kinda shakin’ in the middle parts there."
Guy isn’t sure whether Ollie means the middle of his sharing about what happened to him, or the middle of the entire discussion. But he decides, silently, that he’s not sure he wants to know. It hurts to hear right now. “Ah, okay. Thanks, I wondered…" he says, nodding, affecting what he believes is a smile. “I’l let ya get on with gettin’ dressed an’ headin’ home. Have a good night, Ollie. Talk to me, anytime, if you want to."
Oliver pauses, putting his hand on Guy’s arm. “I get the feeling you wanted to hear a different answer," he says, unsurely. “I … I wish you’d tell me what it is you’re looking for, Guy. I’m kinda floundering hoping to figure it out and always feeling it slip outta my hands."
Guy swallows. “I wasn’t…looking, exactly. I thought you were gonna say that what ya needed, that ya thought I wouldn’t do, was…physical in nature. I thought ya’d meant…that ya needed sex when ya felt like this, on account of how you reached out to Dick for that comfort before…an’ I thought ya figured I wouldn’t do it, on account of I refused ya durin’ our body swap…which is what I thought you were tryin’ to talk to me about the other day." Guy adds, “Fuck I hope that made a lick of sense…"
Oliver worries at his lip. “I see," he says slowly, then adds when Guy looks worried, “it wasn’t like this. With Dick, when it happened with Dick. That wasn’t really comfort, that was me being in a terrible, scared, wounded headspace and using sex as a way to try and dull the pain, drown it out. I’m not in that kind of headspace right now, Guy. It’s a good thing, believe me."
"I ain’t tryin’ to reopen old wounds or pass judgement, Oliver. An’ I’m glad that you’re in a better headspace. I was just curious about what ya thought I wouldn’t do. I thought it was a specific thing." There’s a brief, almost awkward silence, and Guy rushed to fill it, “An’ besides…even if ya did turn to sex for comfort, it’s none of my business. It’s all good, Oliver."
Oliver smiles at him, and this time it’s wide, brilliant. “Okay. It’s something I’m trying to not do anymore, is what, when I’m upset. Only when I’m in a good frame of mind and with people who it won’t get me in trouble with, heh." He leans forward to wrap his arms around Guy, scrunching him tight. “G’night, Gardner."
"G’night, Queen," he responds, returning the hug tightly. “Take care." Floats out of the hot tub and pool area, and out the main Gym doors, to his room for a good night’s rest.