Chlark Fanfic: Wounded Heart, Chapter 9
Okay, you can all go burn your 'Die Manwhore, Die' placards, people...the BDA is not as dumb as y'all think. At least, not in this fic.
Chapter 9 is here. Enjoy!
PS: I'm a shameless Comment!Whore. *hint-hint*
Read previous chapter here.
Read story from the beginning here.
Chapter 9
Title: Wounded Heart
Author: BabyDee
Pairing: Chlark
Rating: PG
Warnings: None
Timeline: Post-‘Legion’
Disclaimer: All characters belong to the CW & DC comics.
Oh, no. Please God, no.
Chloe clamped her eyes shut in disbelief at what she was seeing. She could feel the champagne flute begin to slip through her nerveless fingers, and reflexively tightened her grip on the fragile glass. Through a haze she heard a sharp, tinkly sound and suddenly her palm started to sting.
Greg, who had been chattering on, turned to Chloe and stared aghast.
“My God, Chloe, what happened?”
She blinked at him. “Huh?” she said blankly.
“Chloe, you’re bleeding!”
Chloe suddenly snapped out of it and looked down at her hand. To her horror, blood began to drip on the floor perilously close to the hem of her gown, and she could feel shards of glass stinging her palm. Her jaw dropped and she looked up at Greg in wide-eyed shock.
Fortunately, Greg was still online and had moved quickly, whipping out his handkerchief and holding it gently against her bleeding hand. Being careful not to push the splinters into her skin he quickly steered her in the direction of the ladies’ washrooms, pushing open the double doors and walking in with her despite her feeble objections. He stuck her hand under the faucet and ran cold water on it, sighing his relief as he saw the sharp fragments succumb to the force of the water.
“Thanks, Greg,” she said weakly.
He shook his head, perplexed. “I don’t know what you were thinking,” he said as he fetched paper towels and pressed them onto her still bleeding hand.
“I, uh…” she began. “The glass…started slipping out of my hand, and…well, I guess I grabbed onto it a little too firmly,” she managed, glancing around and noticing a few disapproving looks directed their way from disgruntled washroom users. “Sorry to bounce you, but I think the girls are just about ready to call security on your ass.”
“Pffft!” Greg snorted, but he made his way toward the doors nevertheless. “Never let it be said that a woman in my care to bled to death because I was too shy to venture into the ladies’ powder room,” he declared loudly as he reached the door handles. He smiled at her warmly. “I’ll be waiting outside if you need me, okay?”
She nodded. “Thanks,” she said, sighing as the doors closed behind him.
A quick glance around told her that she had the washroom to herself. Chloe removed the tissues from her injured hand and ran the tap again, regulating the water so that it ran a little warmer this time.
She felt like she was going to be violently sick.
Clark and Lois.
Together.
Kissing.
Holding back tears she blinked furiously, her face crumpling as her breath hitched in her throat. She was determined not to cry. At least, not until she was out of this building.
She was an idiot. A brainless fool to think that she and Clark could be anything more than what they already were: best buds who’d gotten careless one afternoon and slept together. Clark was never going to see her as anything more than a friend. And as much as the thought of that hurt, she could honestly live with that - she’d been living with it for nine years, for crying out loud, overlooked by him while he rode out his bizarre obsession with Lana.
But to be by-passed again, and for Lois of all people - that’s what she wasn’t sure she could endure. The very thought of them together made her physically ill.
She took deep breaths, determined to deal with it like she’d dealt with years and years of Clana. Suck it up, she thought grimly. Grin and bear it. You should be used to it by now, she thought with a bitter laugh.
She turned off the tap and grabbed some paper towels to gently dab her lacerated hand. But before she could even put the paper on her broken skin, her cuts started tingling, as if tiny static shocks were making their way across the injuries on her palm. She frowned in confusion, bringing her hand closer to her face.
And to her utter shock, the broken skin fused and the pain dissipated, leaving her hand looking as good as new.
Chloe stared at her hand numbly, shaking her head. Not again, she thought, looking heavenward in despair. As if she didn’t already have enough crap to deal with, her defunct healing abilities had apparently come back online.
Despite her best efforts, she felt a tear roll down her cheek, and she pushed her knuckles into her mouth to keep from sobbing out loud. Behind her she heard the doors swing open as some people came to use the washroom, and she quickly made a show of bandaging her hand with paper towels and securing them in place with Greg’s handkerchief. Finally, she cleaned all traces of tears away from her face, took a deep breath and headed for the door.
As she exited, Greg, who had been leaning against the opposite wall, came toward her.
“Hey. How are you feeling?” he asked, concerned.
“A little woozy,” she replied. She gestured to her bandaged hand. “I think I need to pop by Metropolis General and get this looked at.”
Greg nodded. “You should,” he agreed. “Those cuts looked pretty deep. Do you want me to come with you?”
She shook her head emphatically. “What, and ruin your evening as well? No way!” she laughed airily.
“You sure?” he said dubiously.
“I’ll be fine. I’m far from death’s door.” She headed toward the exit, Greg walking with her. “Thanks for everything, Greg. And I’ll get your hankie back to you as soon as I’ve washed the blood out of it.”
He waved his hand at it. “Oh, you can keep it, sweetie,” he said with a grin. “That way, whenever you wipe your brow, blow your nose, or dab away a tear, you’ll remember the dashing young hero who saved you from certain death!”
She laughed. “Greg, you are my Shining Knight,” she said as he walked her to her car. “Now get back inside before your social life takes a hit. I’ve taken up enough of your time already.”
He smiled, holding open the car door for her. “Alright, then. You take care, now,” he replied as she got in.
After he’d gone back inside, Chloe sat inside her car and stared blankly at the dashboard for long minutes. Before long, her shoulders started to shake and her tears fell freely, and she leaned on the steering wheel and sobbed like a woman whose heart had been ripped out and stomped on so many times she’d lost count.
Clark would never be hers. And she was doomed to be the woman on the outside looking in, while Clark moved on to her cousin.
She wept, shedding gut-wrenching heartfelt tears, sobbing until there were no more tears to cry. And suddenly her phone rang.
She wiped her eyes and sniffled as she made out the name on the caller ID through eyes blurred by tears. It was Clark, doubtless wondering where she was. She composed herself, took a deep breath, and then pushed the slider up.
“Clark,” she said, trying to keep her voice even. “What’s up?”
“Chloe?” he shouted above the noise of the party hall. “Where are you? I was on the verge of sending out a search party.”
“Yeah, about that…Clark, I’m sorry, but I don’t think I’ll be able to make it,” she replied, hoping against hope that he hadn’t run into Greg.
“Are you stuck in traffic? I’ll come get you,” he offered.
“No, it’s nothing like that…”
“What happened, couldn’t you get a blue dress?” he continued. “It doesn’t matter, just wear anything and I’ll be there in a-”
“Clark, I said I’m not coming, okay?” she yelled.
There was silence on the line. Finally he spoke. “Why?” he said in a low tone.
She thought quickly. “I’m at the airport,” she lied. “Just about boarding. The hospital called. Jimmy’s awake and he’s been asking for me.”
Silence followed again. Then when he finally spoke he sounded genuinely wounded. “You could have told me this earlier, Chloe. I’ve been waiting ages, and I was really looking forward to you being here.”
“Look, I’m sorry, okay?” she said, trying to sound petulant. “I’ll make it up to you. We’ll do lunch or something when I get back.”
“It was important to me that you be here right now, Chloe,” he grumbled, obviously put out. “I’d planned my whole evening around you.”
She snorted. “Ah, you’ll be fine, Clark. You’ve got Lois to keep you company, after all.” she drawled bitterly.
She heard him clear his throat. “Uh…about Lois…you should know that-”
Oh, no you don’t, she thought. “Clark, sorry to cut you off, but they said I have to switch off now,” she said hurriedly.
“But-”
“Gotta go. Bye.” She pushed the slider down and quickly switched off her phone. No way did she want to hear him talk about his feelings for her cousin. She’d been his sounding board throughout the Clana years, and it had tortured her soul every time he’d come to her for advice about his love life. This time around, she was going to do things differently.
She smiled grimly. If he so much as mentioned the words ‘love’, ‘Lois’ and ‘advice’ to her in the same sentence, she was going to finish what she started with that Kryptonite rock.
And this time, she would kick him in the balls.
And raise her middle finger on her way out.
Firm in her resolve, she started her car and headed home.
***
Damn it.
Clark snapped his cellphone shut with so much force he heard a crack. He scowled, feeling like the world’s biggest fool.
She’d blown him off for the second time in as many days. It didn’t take a genius to realise there was a pattern forming here.
Get over yourself, a voice within him sneered. She’s just not that into you, fool. He sighed dejectedly and went back into the bullpen, wandering over to the bar and picking up a soft drink, draining it swiftly. He looked over to the corner where he’d been sitting, waiting for Chloe with so much hope in his heart.
Only now the seat was occupied by the sprawled, inebriated form of her stupid cousin.
He frowned as he recalled how he’d been sitting alone quietly one second, and then attacked by a lapful of Lois the next. Then, to his absolute horror, she leaned in and kissed him. Sloppily.
Angrily, he’d grabbed her shoulders and pushed her away. “What the hell is wrong with you?” he snapped.
“Merry Chrishmash, Shmallville!” she grinned, and leaned in to him again. He managed to dodge her lips this time, mercifully.
“Will you cut it out?” he said irritably, pushing her away again.
She shook her head. “Nah. You have to kissh me,” she insisted groggily. With a hiccup.
He stared at her in disbelief. “Lois, you’re drunk as a skunk. Why else would you be kissing me?”
Lois blinked at him with glazed eyes and smiled widely. “Ish tradisshun,” she slurred.
“I’m sorry, what?” he said, baffled.
She burped and gestured above his head with an unsteady hand in which she held a cocktail. “Misheltoe an’ wine!” she sang, sloshing alcohol all over his rented tux. He shook his doused arm in disgust, cursing as he remembered the mistletoe he’d hung in anticipation of Chloe’s arrival. It had been his only guarantee that he’d get a kiss out of her tonight, and now it had been tainted.
He struggled to his feet, dragging Lois with him before settling her back down on the seat. “Wait here,” he instructed her sternly, heading towards the exit. He’d taken a few steps before he turned around sharply and headed back to the seat, where he yanked the sprig of mistletoe off the wall before she could grab some poor, unsuspecting stranger and subject him to the same nightmarish ordeal he’d just been through.
Once outside, he dialled Chloe’s number. After about four rings, she picked up.
“Clark,” she greeted. “What’s up?”
She sounds guarded, he thought. “Chloe?” he shouted, trying to make his voice heard above the noise of the revellers. “Where are you? I was on the verge of sending out a search party.”
“Yeah, about that…” she began.
Uh oh, he thought. The last time she’d uttered those words to him, she was breaking up with him after the Spring Formal. Not a good sign.
She continued. “Clark, I’m sorry, but I don’t think I’ll be able to make it,” she finished.
He frowned. “Are you stuck in traffic?” he asked. “I’ll come get you.”
“No, it’s nothing like that…” she began.
Desperately, he went on. “What happened, couldn’t you get a blue dress? It doesn’t matter, just wear anything and I’ll be there in a-”
“Clark, I said I’m not coming, okay?”
He felt like he’d been punched in the gut. She was standing him up.
He took deep breaths while he tried to find his voice. “Why?” he finally managed.
She was silent. Then she finally spoke. “I’m at the airport,” she replied. “Just about boarding. The hospital called. Jimmy’s awake and he’s been asking for me.”
His heart turned to stone in his chest. She’d told him earlier that she was going to get an annulment. Had she changed her mind, and decided to stay with Jimmy?
“You could have told me this earlier, Chloe.” He said, pain creeping into his voice despite his best efforts. “I’ve been waiting ages, and I was really looking forward to you being here.”
“Look, I’m sorry, okay?” he heard her say. “I’ll make it up to you. We’ll do lunch or something when I get back.”
Was she trying to be flippant? Anger and hurt warred within him. “It was important to me that you be here right now, Chloe,” he said, not caring that he clearly sounded annoyed. “I’d planned my whole evening around you.”
“Ah, you’ll be fine, Clark,” she said breezily. “You’ve got Lois to keep you company, after all.”
He snorted, and then coughed to cover it. Was she kidding? “Uh…about Lois,” he began, “you should know that-”
“Clark, sorry to cut you off, but they said I have to switch off now,” he heard her say quickly.
“But-”
“Gotta go. Bye.” The line went dead.
“…you should know that she’s completely hammered, is making a spectacle of herself, and if she weren’t related to you, would be spending the night in the drunk tank,” he finished sarcastically into the disconnected receiver, before snapping the phone shut.
He sighed, feeling disappointed. He made his way back into the party hall, but he no longer had any desire to celebrate. He grabbed a soft drink at the bar and downed it swiftly while he thought of what to do with Lois.
Five minutes later, he’d semi-carried her round to the back of the building, which was deserted. Lois had passed out, apparently unable to hold her liquor. With a quick glance in every direction, he lifted her onto his shoulder and supersped out of the alley and within five seconds he was at the door to her apartment. He fished her keys out of her purse and opened the door, then carried her in and dumped her unceremoniously on her couch. Then he let himself out, locking her door and throwing the keys back in through her letterbox.
Back outside, he looked around again, making sure the coast was clear. There was one last thing to do, and then he was done for the night. He supersped to the Kawatche caves and went in, feeling his way in the darkness until he got to the spot in the wall he was looking for. He pressed firmly, and a self-illuminating space in the wall opened.
Reaching into his pocket, he retrieved the bracelet Joseph Willowbrook had given him several years ago. He smiled ruefully as he recalled the older man’s words when he’d presented him with the artefact.
For the one you are destined to be with; the True One in your life, he’d said to him.
Clark wasn’t the sharpest knife in the drawer, but he knew without a doubt who that was. He sighed, running his thumb across the smooth silvery metal, his heart heavy.
She wasn’t ready. And he would have to respect that.
Dejectedly he reached into the brightly lit space in the cave wall and placed the artefact back in the alcove. He withdrew his hand, and the edges of the wall slid seamlessly back into place.
Better luck next time, he whispered to himself before whooshing away into the night.
***
Chapter 10...