Chlark Fanfic: The Fallen Sky, Chapter 8
Hola, my lovelies!
Has it really been five months since I updated this one? :-O My sincere apologies, peeps; I got sidetracked - admittedly, by fanfic. :)
Anyway, here we are. There’s a lot of Chloe introspection in this chapter, but as this was the pivotal moment leading up towards her making that decision, I felt I needed to explore exactly what was going through her mind when she decided to run away with Davis.
Also, she’s got pregnancy symptoms to contend with as well by this time; but she doesn’t know that yet. :-\
Enjoy!
Title: The Fallen Sky
Author: BabyDee1
Pairing: Chlark, Oneshot
Rating: PG/NC17?
Warnings: Major angst up ahead. Brace yourselves.
Timeline: S.8 (Hex-Doomsday & beyond; this chapter exploring Beast)
Disclaimer: All characters belong to the CW & DC comics.
Summary: Months after walking away from her in Doomsday, Clark returns to Chloe…but finds that she’s a changed woman from the one he left behind.
Feedback: …always welcome. :)
Read previous chapter here.
Read story from the beginning here.
Chapter 8
A Shadow Cast
Sleep eluded her for the rest of the night.
After the horrifying dream Chloe lay wide awake in bed, her trembling fingers nervously tapping the side of the bedframe as she willed her cellphone not to ring, knowing it that if it did it would probably be him, desperate for comfort and reassurance that she didn’t want to give. Mercifully, her phone remained silent for the rest of the night, leaving her with only her troubled thoughts for company.
She couldn’t close her eyes. Every time her eyelids drifted shut, all she saw was Clark’s mutilated body hanging in the barn, dripping with blood, his eyes lifeless and cold. The graphic images tormented her until she started shivering uncontrollably and managed to stagger to the bathroom just in time to empty the contents of her stomach into the toilet.
She got to her feet and rinsed her mouth out before splashing cold water on her face. When she was finished she walked unsteadily back to bed, though she decided to sit up instead of lie down this time. If she was upright, there was less chance of her closing her eyes and subjecting herself to the horrible visions. Even with her eyes open the images remained, though not as potent as it did with them closed.
Chloe sighed deeply and buried her hands in her hair. This couldn’t continue. Davis’s got needier by the second. His phone calls were becoming more and more frequent, and despite her stern instructions that he was not to leave the basement, she’d spotted him in the main restaurant area once or twice when she’d gotten home.
As if worrying about Clark and Davis wasn’t enough, she was still plagued by nightmares of the mangled human remains she’d had to dump after her mugger had met a grisly end at Davis’s hands. Granted, the man had been actively slitting her throat at the time, but she was now terrified that the Beast’s thirst for blood would soon force Davis to seek out other victims.
For the first time, she acknowledged that she couldn’t do this alone. Unfortunately this now presented the problem of whom to trust with her awful secret.
With another sigh she threw off the covers, got out of bed and went to stand by the window as she mentally sifted through a list of possible helpers. J’onn would have been of the most help to her; but he was working undercover out of state somewhere and still recovering from a near-fatal injury, sans abilities.
Oliver - no. He’d proven himself wholly untrustworthy the moment he’d blackmailed her to conceal the cold-blooded murder he’d committed. And everyone else in the team was loyal to Oliver, so they would run straight to him with her news. She frowned, thinking. Bart might keep her confidence; but he was little more than a child, and she couldn’t burden him with something as heavy as this, or force him to choose sides.
That left Dr Emil Hamilton, whom she had met only twice before, but had presented himself as pretty neutral on both occasions. He might be able to assist in more ways than one; being a scientist who had experience with foreign biological matter, he could perhaps find a way to weed out the abnormalities in Davis’s blood that turned him into the monster.
But that led to the problem of how to obtain his blood, as nothing - not even kryptonite - could weaken him now.
Chloe leaned despondently against the wall, nibbling on the corner of her lip as she thought hard. It was as if every time she thought she’d found a solution she came up against another brick wall; and those walls were rapidly closing in on her.
Suddenly there was a sharp sting in her mouth as she inadvertently bit into the tender flesh of her inner lip. Immediately she pressed the tip of her tongue to soothe the wounded spot…and at once, the proverbial light bulb went off in her head.
Of course. There were more ways to obtain DNA than via one’s bloodstream. A saliva sample shouldn’t be too hard to come by. She’d bag Davis’s coffee cup after breakfast and get it to Emil, who would hopefully both come to her assistance and keep her confidence once she told him what it was for.
Satisfied, she lay down in bed again and closed her weary eyes. Immediately, Clark’s bloody torso began to materialise in her mind, and she quickly flicked her eyes open with a harsh, tired sob.
Clearly, there would be no sleep for her tonight.
***
She decided to wait until the first light of dawn tinged the sky before getting out of bed.
After a speedy shower, she headed straight downstairs for a desperately needed cup of coffee. Not surprisingly, her hands were nervy and unsteady after the troubled night she’d had, and in her fretful state she couldn’t get the steamer to cooperate.
Just as she finally managed to get the damn thing to work, her cellphone went off, startling her and making her spill some of the coffee. Predictably, Davis’s caller ID flashed onscreen.
Her heart pounded in fear as it did every time he rang. She shut off her phone with a curt snap and turned her attention back to the dripping coffee machine. She couldn’t deal with Davis’s drama, not right now.
“Are you okay?” Clark’s familiar voice asked from behind, making her jump again. He gestured towards the machine. “You usually make cappuccinos blindfolded.”
Chloe glanced at her phone, thankful that it was turned off. No doubt Clark’s presence had troubled Davis, hence his earlier call. If Clark had seen the caller ID on her cell, there’d have been all sorts of questions to answer.
“Clark, hey!” she said with as much brightness as she could muster. “I just …didn’t get my full seven hours of sleep last night.” Best to stick to an explanation that was essentially true, she thought dimly.
He gave her a concerned look and then focused on the Daily Planet newspaper in his hand, a slight frown marring his brow.
“…And judging from the look on your face, you didn’t come here to join me for pancakes,” she added as she sprinkled sweetener onto her cappuccino. “What’s up?”
“Tess named Davis the serial killer,” he said, dropping the newspaper on the counter. “She devoted the whole front page of today’s paper to the story.”
Chloe glanced down at the paper and her jaw twitched at the screaming headline MANHUNT FOR CORNFIELD KILLER BEGINS. Beside it, a smaller article proclaimed Ambulance Driver Leads Double Life, whilst a prominent highlighted section of text claimed “…police will check missing persons lists worldwide.”
She pursed her lips and forced herself to appear nonchalant. “Well, headlines can’t hurt Davis now that he’s dead.”
“That’s the thing, Chloe,” Clark said grimly. “I’m starting to believe that Davis is still alive.”
Chloe’s heart all but stopped before beating so loudly she was sure he’d be able to hear it without superhearing. The coffee she’d been so desperate for was destined to go cold in its cup, because her already weak appetite swiftly disappeared.
“Come on, Clark, we both watched him die,” she scoffed with false bravado. “Oliver buried the body.”
“But it said in this article that they found one of Bruno Mannheim’s thugs in a dumpster, torn apart the same way that Doomsday dismembered his victims,” he replied.
This was going from bad to worse. Chloe forced her trembling hands to remain still as she held the paper and stared at the mugshot of the brute that had tried to slit her throat before Davis had made short work of him.
“That body was probably there for weeks,” she finally said.
Clark shook his head. “He was still seen alive after Davis died.”
Chloe swallowed and tried not to panic as her defences began to crumble.
“Look, I love a good ghost story just as much as the next girl, but there has to be a more logical explanation than the resurrection of an alien monster,” she argued. “It could be a copycat killer.”
“Chloe, Davis has come back from the dead before,” Clark insisted.
“Not from meteor rock,” she said gently. “Listen, Clark…I understand why you’re paranoid. Davis was sent here specifically to kill you; I mean, that would make anyone believe there were monsters under their bed.”
Clark clenched his jaw and turned away. “That doesn’t change the fact that Davis is a murderer,” he said tightly.
“Clark - Davis is dead,” she said, emphasising every word. “And the only thing that’s keeping him alive in your mind is fear. Let him go.”
Clark drummed his fingers on the counter for several seconds before sighing and stepping back. “I just thought I should warn you,” he said quietly. Then he turned and slowly walked out into Main Street.
Chloe let out the breath she had been holding and held her hands to her temples for several seconds. Suddenly she remembered Davis’s call and switched her cell back on, alarmed to see that there were now four missed calls from him. She peered out into the street to make sure Clark was gone, then locked the coffee shops doors and quickly headed towards the basement.
Time was running out. She needed a solution to this problem - and quickly.
***
Chapter 9…