Chlark Fanfic: Crisis, Chapter 1
Title: Crisis
Author: BabyDee
Pairing: Chlark/Kaloe
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Graphic sex, non-con/rape, angst. Kal isn’t going to come off very nice in this story (see the warnings), so if you’re a fan of his, you might want to look away now.
Timeline: Season 2-3 (Exodus - Exile; Clark’s RedK Summer)
Disclaimer: All characters belong to the CW & DC comics.
Summary: A violent encounter between Chloe and Clark threatens to destroy their friendship forever.
Feedback: …is much appreciated. J
Read the Prologue here.
Chapter 1
9:30pm, Saturday
Chloe sat silently as the female CSI, Anne Mulligan, dutifully went about doing her job. Fluid samples were collected from her intimate areas, her pubic hair was combed, her fingernails swabbed, and photographs were taken of her bruises.
“We’ll process this immediately, so if you don’t mind waiting for the results, we’ll be back in about an hour,” Mulligan said as she straightened.
Chloe nodded. “Thank you,” she said quietly.
The hour passed quickly. Before long, Anne Mulligan re-entered the room, accompanied by a younger gentleman.
“Miss Sullivan, I’m Detective Josh Lomax,” he said. “You already know CSI Mulligan. I know you’ve been through a horrific ordeal, but if you don’t mind, we have a few questions for you.”
She nodded quietly. The young man went on.
“When exactly were you attacked?”
“Earlier today.”
“Can you be a little more specific, please?”
“I’ll sit out here for as long as I need to!” she yelled, glancing at her watch, seeing that it had just gone 3:00pm.
“It must have been about 7 o’clock this evening,” she said aloud.
Lomax looked at her suspiciously. “You’re certain?” he asked.
“I’m sure.”
He nodded. “Can you describe your attacker for us, Miss Sullivan?”
She stared up in terror at the feral expression in his green eyes, his dark hair falling wildly about his face.
“It was dark, I didn’t see him,” she said quietly.
Lomax frowned. “Miss Sullivan, this man attacked you in the early evening hours,” he said evenly. “Surely you can remember something; the colour of his eyes, his hair…?”
“He wore a ski mask,” she said bluntly.
The detective exchanged a look with the CSI, and then faced her again.
“Was your assailant known to you, Chloe?”
“I didn’t recognise him.”
“I only ask because we’ve been through the DNA evidence we collected from you with a fine toothcomb, and there’s nothing there at all.”
She maintained a blank expression. “Nothing?”
“The only DNA present was your own.”
She shrugged. “He must have used a condom, or something.”
“I’m not just talking about semen, Miss Sullivan. There were no strands of hair found at all -”
“I told you, he wore a ski-mask.”
“And no pubic hairs, either. Neither did we recover any epithelials from beneath your fingernails. No skin cells, no blood…nothing. Yet your fingernails bear definite signs of trauma.”
She kept quiet and stared blankly at a far corner of the room.
“Miss Sullivan, I ask you again, do you know who attacked you?”
“He was a stranger to me,” she said honestly. “I didn’t know this guy at all.”
“Do you have a boyfriend?”
“No.”
“Did you recently end a relationship with someone?”
She shook her head. “No. I’ve never been in a relationship with anyone.”
“Is there anyone who’s recently shown any interest in you; a boy at school, maybe?” he insisted.
She snorted mirthlessly. “Definitely no.”
He paused, then consulted his notes again. “Miss Sullivan, did you take a shower before coming to the hospital?”
“Yes, I did.”
“You’re a smart girl. Surely you must know that it makes it a hundred times more difficult for us to catch your attacker if most of the DNA evidence is washed away?”
Chloe shrugged again. “I felt violated and used.”
The detective’s face hardened. “Ms Sullivan, I have to say it looks to me like you’re protecting someone,” he said bluntly. “There’s clear evidence of the attack all over you; broken fingernails, widespread bruising and vaginal lacerations, but it seems awfully convenient that there’s no DNA evidence of this alleged assailant.”
“Alleged?” she whispered, her expression cold. “You think I’m making this up?”
“I’m not accusing you, Miss Sullivan. But you’ve been attacked, and from all indications, you seem to be protecting your attacker.”
“I’ve already told you - I didn’t know him,” she said insistently. “He was a complete stranger to me.”
“We just want to make sure that the bastard who did this to you doesn’t do it to somebody else,” he said. “Surely you don’t want another attack on an innocent woman on your conscience?”
“No, I wouldn’t,” she replied softly, her eyes downcast. “I promise, I’ll do everything I can to help.”
***
Detective Josh Lomax and CSI Anne Mulligan watched as young Chloe Sullivan walked out of the hospital, got into her car and drove off. As soon as she was out of sight, he turned to his colleague.
“What do you think?” he asked.
CSI Mulligan sighed. “She’s hiding something; I’m sure of it.”
“Same here. She knows who did this, but she probably thinks he didn’t mean it, or that she might have led him on in some way. Whatever the case, she’s determined to handle this on her own.”
Mulligan frowned. “What do you think she’ll do?”
He shrugged. “Hard to tell. Everyone reacts to a violent attack in a different way. I just wish we had something to go on to take this guy down ourselves.”
“With the lack of evidence, I don’t think we’re gonna get that chance, Lomax.”
“Neither do I. I can only hope that whatever plan she has - because you know she’s planning something - doesn’t involve further trauma. To herself, or to anyone else.”
***
Chloe parked her car in the driveway and turned off the engine. She sat in the darkened car for a full five minutes, tapping her fingers on the steering wheel and biting on her bottom lip before stepping out of the vehicle and heading for front door.
Taking a deep breath, she rapped lightly on the knocker. After about a minute, the door swung open and she was bathed in light as she stood on the front porch.
“Good evening, Mr. Kent,” she greeted softly. “May I come in, please?”
“Chloe?” he said, surprise and concern in his eyes. “Of course you can come in, but it’s a little late to be visiting. Is everything okay?”
“Is Mrs. Kent home?” she asked, walking into the living room.
Jonathan shut the front door and stood by the entrance to the living room. “She is, but she’s fast asleep in bed, which is where all law-abiding citizens should be by this time. What brings you here so late?”
She swallowed nervously. “I have something to tell you both,” she said. “Actually, I…I should have told you this a while ago.”
Jonathan Kent’s brow furrowed suspiciously. “What’s this about, Chloe?”
She drew in a shaky breath, and finally spoke.
“It’s Clark,” she said quietly. “I know where he is.”
***
Chapter 2…