Chlark Fanfic: Crisis, Chapter 8
Hi All!
I seem to have the 'Double Updates' thing down to a science these days. :-)
Here's the next chapter of Crisis. Enjoy. If you're just tuning in, I updated a few hours ago here.
Title: Crisis
Author: BabyDee
Pairing: Chlark/Kaloe
Rating: NC-17 (slight torture in this chapter)
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 previous chapter here.
Read story from the beginning here.
Chapter 8
Clark’s heart sank at Chloe’s unfriendly reception. He hadn’t expected her to run across the room and fling herself into his arms, but it was jarring to see just how scarred his attack had left her.
He spoke again. “Chloe, I’m not here to hurt you-”
“I don’t believe you,” she growled. “Now get out before Pete comes back. I swear, I’ll tell him what you did to me-”
“He got hauled away for football practice,” he said quietly, and pulled his hand out of his pocket and extended it to her. “He said I should give you this.”
She briefly glanced down at the Hersheys Chocolate Kisses he held out to her and jerked her head towards her desk. “Put them on the table and leave.”
“I need to talk to you-”
“Just get out!” she yelled.
“Chloe please, just let me explain…”
“Explain what? Why you raped me?” she screamed, tears welling up in her eyes. “What could you possibly say to defend that?”
He flinched at the ugly word and stared sadly at the ground.
“There is nothing you can say that will make me understand, Clark,” she said icily. “You hear me? Nothing. Now get out before I do what I should have done and call the police.”
“I did a horrible thing to you, and I’m so sorry,” he said. “I know nothing I can say will change what I did, but I owe you the truth…about everything.”
“You owe me a lot more than that,” she shot back. “How about my virginity, for starters?” She started ticking items off her fingers. “What else? Oh yes, there’s my peace of mind, my sense of safety, the indignity of an intrusive examination at the hospital, the therapy bills that are doubtless going to follow, the sleepless nights, the constant fear, and a non-existent social life, because hey…if I can’t trust my best friend not to hurt me, who can I trust?”
Each word was like a dagger to his heart. “I’m sorry,” he said hoarsely, feeling utterly helpless. “I’m so sorry.”
“Whatever. You want to talk about what you owe me, Clark? Make a list. Now leave.”
“Chloe…” he took a cautious step towards her. Automatically she took a step back and whipped a pistol out of her pocket with lighting speed.
“Take one more step, and I swear I’ll shoot you,” she threatened gravely, glaring back at him with fierce determination in her eyes.
He stared at her in horror, because he didn’t doubt that she would. He knew how deeply he had wounded her, but he was only just beginning to realise the knock-on effect of his horrific attack. If she could bring a gun into school simply to feel safe…
“You’re not a killer, Chloe,” he said softly.
In answer she cocked the safety and aimed at him again. “Feel free to test that theory,” she said coldly. “One more step and you’re a dead man.”
He shook his head. “Chloe…you can’t kill me.”
She swallowed and shrugged. “Fine. At the very least, I’ll bust out your kneecaps. Don’t think I won’t do that.”
“What I mean is…” he sighed, and stepped forward.
“No!” she screamed, and her finger reflexively tightened on the trigger. The gun went off with a deafening bang, and her hands flew to cover her mouth as her eyed widened in shock.
Clark zipped into superspeed and caught the gun before it could land at her feet and possibly let off another shot. Unsure of what to do with the weapon, he held it out to her, waiting for her to take it from him. Unsurprisingly, she was still frozen in shock; either from the fact that she’d actually pulled the trigger, or that he’d suddenly appeared in front of her.
“Are you okay?” he asked in concern.
She didn’t answer. Her hands were still over her mouth, her wide eyes fixed on his chest where a smoking hole marred the front of his t-shirt. Her eyes widened even further as a squashed, flattened bullet fell from his chest and landed on the floor with an ironically pleasant-sounding tinkle.
Chloe peered into the hole left by the bullet, blinking and staring at the unbroken skin beneath. She stared up at him and her hands left her face.
“Who are you?” she whispered. “What are you? Some kind of meteor freak?”
He reached for her hand. “I’ll explain everything-”
“Don’t touch me!” she screamed in fear, yanking her hand out of his and backing away from him. “Don’t you ever touch me again!”
Clark felt like he was being slashed to ribbons. The fear in her voice, the way she flinched every time he approached her told him just how much damage he’d inflicted on her. Now that she knew that he was…different, she’d no doubt be doubly frightened of what else he might be capable of. He didn’t want to scare her, but if he didn’t get to speak to her now, they would both be destroyed forever.
There was only one way he could win her trust long enough to hear him out.
“Chloe, please,” he pleaded. “You don’t have to be afraid of me, I promise you. Here, take this.” He handed her the lead box that Lex Luthor had given him a few years back. Chloe stared suspiciously at it, and backed further away from him.
With a heavy heart, he slowly lowered the box to the ground along with the gun, and stepped back.
She nodded towards the box. “What’s inside?” she asked stonily.
He swallowed nervously. “It’s a piece of meteor rock,” he answered quietly. “It’s the only thing in the world that can hurt me; as far as I know, anyway.”
Chloe’s eyes narrowed, and she glanced from him to the box and back at him again.
He nodded towards it. “Go on; open it.”
Cautiously she stepped towards where he’d left the box and the gun in the middle of the room, keeping an eye on him at all times. When she got to where they were she used her boot and toed the box open.
Clark took a deep breath and braced himself for pain as the seemingly innocuous rock began to glow. Chloe looked up at him, seeing him breathing unsteadily. Slowly she reached down and picked up the open box, and Clark grimaced as the gnawing ache in his gut intensified.
Suspiciously, Chloe began to move closer to him, and the gnawing ache fast escalated into a stabbing pain. Every muscle in his body screamed at him to step back from her, but he stood his ground. He had to do this; had to endure it, for her sake, so she would realise just how much he was trusting her with.
Chloe stopped just inches away from him and took the rock out of its box. Clark’s legs wobbled and gave way, and he fell to the floor, unable to hold back the anguished moan of pain that escaped his lips. Sweat gathered on his brow and dampened his shirt, and he gritted his teeth in agony.
Chloe bent down over him and pressed the edge of the rock to his cheek. Clark groaned as his blood boiled in his veins like acid, tears running down his face in little rivulets. He stared at her with pleading eyes, but she wasn’t done yet. Her face looked eerily green from the glow of the rock as she picked up a tack from the floor and drew it down his forearm. He yelled as the pin pierced his skin, an ugly red line appearing where she had cut him.
“Please,” he finally begged.
She stared hard at him for a few seconds in morbid fascination before dropping the rock back in the box and snapping it shut. Immediately the pain began to recede, and he sighed in relief, watching her stare in wonder as the cut she’d just inflicted on him faded away in seconds.
“That really hurt you,” she said matter of factly.
He nodded. “Yes. It did.”
“If I’d kept it up, I could have killed you.”
He nodded again.
Her eyes narrowed into little slits. “Then why did you let me do it?”
“So that you’ll know that you have nothing to fear from me,” he said honestly. “We need to talk, Chloe, and I don’t want you to be scared of me. If you feel threatened or frightened at any time, just open the box. I mean that.”
“You still want to talk?” she asked dryly.
He nodded again. “After…after what happened…we need to.”
She folded her arms, holding the lead box tightly. “Give me one good reason why I should listen to you, or even believe a word you say.”
He took a deep breath. “Because once upon a time we were best friends,” he said quietly. “Up until that day, you’d never been afraid of me. It kills me to see you like this, Chlo, and I need you to know the truth, the whole truth, about me; I’m not going to hold anything back. And…and you need to know how sorry I am, about everything.”
“Oh, you’re sorry?” she said incredulously, and gave a short, mirthless laugh. “I’m the one that’s sorry, Clark. I’m sorry I ever followed your worthless ass to that apartment. I’m sorry I ever thought I could get through to you, and I’m sorry I ever cared for you in the first place. You’re a vile criminal, Clark, and you should be locked up in prison, with the rest of the violent sex offenders.”
Her words stung him deeply. “I’m not denying culpability,” he said softly. If you want to call the Police, I won’t stop you. I’ll tell them what I did, and I’ll go with them and serve my time. Honestly, I will.”
“But I’ve seen what you can do, Clark,” she said flatly. “Why should I believe you? If you’re bulletproof, then I’m willing to bet you’re superstrong, and prison bars won’t hold you. How do I know that you won’t just escape? There’s no one who can stop you.”
He glanced down at the box in her hands. “You can,” he said softly.
She looked at the box and bit down on her lower lip, concentrating hard. Eventually she pulled out her cellphone and punched in 911, but for the longest time her hand hovered over which button to press: cancel or dial.
She hit dial.
After two rings, he heard a female voice on the line. “911, what’s your emergency?”
Chloe stared hard at him, and then answered the person on the phone.
“No emergency; sorry to have wasted your time.”
She shut off her phone, opened the lead box and placed it beside her, then she cocked the gun and looked up at him.
“You have five minutes before they get here,” she said evenly, holding the pistol firmly in her lap, but trained in his direction. “Start talking.”
***
Chapter 9…