Watchtower. All the monitors display X-rays of Chloe's unmarked skull. Because one monitor wasn't enough? Chloe reminisces over old high school pictures. For some reason, the power of Clark's glasses has not yet erased his images from her yearbook. Chloe's probably working some kind of techno-magic on them. "You all right?" Oliver asks, startling her. She smiles. "Well, I escaped the villain of the piece with nary a mark on my bones." Oliver points out how the yearbook pictures kind of ruin that whole "woman who doesn't exist" thing she's been trying to pull off. She agrees they're "kind of a breadcrumb." He asks if she's feeling lost. She rattles off a list of careers she's had in her young life. She worries she's been defining herself by other people or causes. She hasn't felt like herself since high school. She looks at the beaming picture of herself, voted most likely to succeed. Now that's all mostly gone because she erased it. She says that's why she's been reluctant to define herself with Oliver. "I'm afraid I'm gonna lose the last little bit of me I have left." He tells her he knows who she is. She smiles, touched. She says she's never questioned her love for him. She pulls on a green leather jacket that must have been made by Oliver's tailor. "So, what do we do now?" she asks. He takes her by the shoulders. He tells her things that he knows she'll understand, and that will show her he understands her. He knows now a normal life isn't for him. He'll be in the spotlight for the rest of his life. "I thought I was giving up my identity by coming out," he says, "but all I did was change it, 'cause I am who I am and it's time I stopped hiding from that." She smiles up at him. He brushes the hair out of her eyes. "I made this bed and I have to sleep in it," he says. She gives him a flirty look and says, "Well, you don't have to do it alone."
They start heading for the door, his arm around her shoulders, hers around his waist. He poses a question to her: "When people see this adorable blond -- and you are -- on this adorable blond's arm... what do they call you?" She stops, looks up and quirks her eyebrows at him. "Let's start with 'girlfriend' and go from there." He teases her about how "high school" that sounds, but you can tell he's tickled pink. They kiss adorably. They start toward the door again, but he pauses to turn off some of the electrical equipment with the lame excuse of trying to save money. Really, it's just a way to get him in front of a black light doohickey so that wee see the Omega gleaming through his forehead. Is he possessed by the darkness? Going to a rave? Guess we'll have to find out later.