Bring Me to Life (Three/?)
Prologue | One | Two | Three | Four | Five | Six | Seven | Eight | Nine | Ten | Conclusion
Chapter Three
For a full five seconds, neither one of them said anything, simply stared in shock at the floating mug of steaming coffee. Then as it began to fall toward the loft floor, Clark moved and caught it easily before it could shatter. He continued to stare at it for a moment, and then he looked at Chloe, wide-eyed.
Her eyebrows were arched and she looked back at him. “So when were you gonna tell me about your new found power of telekinesis?”
“Chloe…” He shook his head slowly, setting the cup down. “I didn’t…that wasn’t me.”
“Then who was it? Cause I don’t see anyone el--” Her voice trailed off mid-sentence and she stared back at him. “You think…I did that?” Her voice rose an octave and she quickly shook her head.
“Okay, don’t panic.”
She shot him a glare.
Clark drew in a breath, a million thoughts racing through his mind. He knew with absolutely certainty that he hadn’t moved the cup, which meant it had to have been Chloe.
“Clark!” He heard his mother’s frightened voice at the bottom of the loft stairs.
“We’re up here, Mom,” he called down. “What’s wrong?”
“Your father and I were talking and all of a sudden Chloe’s coffee mug--”
“Floated out the door?” he finished.
“Yes, how did you…” As she reached the top of the stairs and spotted the mug, she stared at it for a moment, then looked at Clark in shock. “Clark, what…”
Clark shook his head slightly and held up his hands. “It wasn’t me.”
“Then who…” She lifted her gaze to look at Chloe, who was three shades paler than a sheet. “Oh, my.”
Chloe swallowed hard, shifting her gaze to Clark. Wordlessly, he moved to her side and wrapped an arm around her shoulders.
“Martha? Did you find out what’s going on?” Jonathan appeared at the top of the stairs next.
“I’m not sure,” she murmured, gazing intently at her son and Chloe.
* * *
“All right, focus,” Clark said softly as he sat beside her on the sofa.
“This is stupid. I didn’t move the cup, Clark,” she said stubbornly.
He gave her a look. “What were you thinking about right before we saw it floating?”
Chloe shifted uncomfortably, not meeting his eyes. “I was thinking that I needed more coffee,” she said with a soft sigh.
He gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze. “Try to do it again.”
Drawing in a shaky breath, Chloe focused her gaze on the mug. Nothing happened. “See? I told you.”
“You’re not focusing.”
She gave him a dirty look. “I am too focusing.”
A small smile tugged at his lips at the childlike argument that came from her mouth. If she’d stuck her tongue out at him, he wouldn’t have been surprised.
Sighing once more in annoyance, she turned her attention back to the mug across the loft, very conscious of the fact that Martha and Jonathan Kent were standing a few feet away, watching intently. Closing her eyes, she imagined the rich thickness of the beverage, of the heat that warmed her throat all the way down to her stomach. She needed a drink of it badly. And when she heard Martha gasp, she quickly opened her eyes to discover that the mug was floating inches in front of her face.
Her heart skipped a beat and she hesitantly reached out and grasped the ceramic cup in her hands, not looking at anyone as she downed the rest of the drink quickly. She was definitely going to need more. Like, right now.
Chloe rose to her feet, feeling shaky and alarmed and excited and confused all at once. She bit her lower lip and snuck a peek at Clark, not sure how he was going to react.
His eyes reflected all the same things she was feeling and he stood up, as well. “Well. I guess this is when I say I told you so,” he said with a smirk.
* * *
Chloe stood under the spray of the shower, letting the warm water trail down her body. She let out a breath as she closed her eyes, scrubbing her skin with the bar of soap.
She’d moved a coffee mug with her mind.
A short chuckle escaped her lips and she quickly pressed a hand over her mouth. Swallowing hard, she tried to get a grip on that little fact. She had moved something just by thinking about it.
Despite all the things she’d been witness to since moving to Smallville, all of the weird instances she’d investigated over the years, this was nothing like that. She’d watched from the sidelines as various classmates had developed kryptonite-related abilities after the meteor showers. Had watched as Clark used his own powers to save lives and do so much good.
But this was mind-blowing. Never before had she thought somehow she would develop powers of her own. Oh, she’d imagined what it’d be like from time to time, even dreamt about what she could do if one day she woke up and had Clark’s super-hearing or speed, or strength. Hell, she’d been jealous for awhile because she was just Chloe. Just plain, ordinary Chloe Sullivan whose only real talent was for tracking down stories and writing about them.
She slowly opened her eyes and set the soap down in its container on the side of the tub. Then she focused her mind on it.
And when it floated up from its place, and hovered in front of her, a small grin tugged at her lips.
* * *
Clark sat on the edge of his bed, his mind whirling with untamed thoughts. Chloe had died and Jor-El had brought her back, and somehow in the midst of that process, she’d gained the ability to move things with her mind. Rubbing the back of his neck, he wondered if it was just a temporary side-effect from coming back from the dead, or if it would be a permanent thing that she would have to get used to, and have to hide from the world.
He closed his eyes briefly and laid down with his head on the pillow of his bed. He had a feeling it was going to take awhile to sink in that his best friend had, at least for the time being, powers of telekinesis.
His cell phone ringing startled him out of his thoughts and he glanced at the caller ID. Lang, Lana. His eyebrows furrowed a bit as he realized he hadn’t thought about his girlfriend in over 24 hours. Of course, so many things had happened, he hadn’t had time to idly think about anything. He quickly placed the phone to his ear. “Hello?”
“Hi, Clark, it’s me.”
“Hi, Lana.”
“Have you talked to Chloe by any chance? She never came back to the dorm last night and she didn’t call or anything…I’m starting to get worried.”
He swallowed hard. “Oh, uh…she’s here, actually.”
There was a pause on the other end of the line. “In Smallville?”
“Yeah. She was visiting Lois. She must have just forgotten to let you know.” He’d been telling little lies to Lana for so long to protect himself, he thought nothing of doing the same for Chloe.
“That doesn’t sound like her,” Lana murmured.
“She’s taking a shower right now, you want me to have her call you when she gets out?” He didn’t even think about what he said before he said it.
“She’s showering at your house?” she asked in confusion.
“Oh, uh…yeah. We got a rainstorm a little while ago and she was helping my dad and I get the animals rounded up. She was cold, so…”
“I see.” She sounded perturbed, but didn’t say anything about it. “Yeah, just have her call me when she gets the chance.”
“I will.” Clark paused, feeling like he should say something else, but not knowing what to say.
“So…I guess I’ll talk to you later.”
“Yeah. Bye, Lana.” He hung up the phone, frowning.
* * *
Chloe emerged from the shower a little while later, wrapped in a flannel robe that she assumed was Clark’s considering it was too big to be Martha’s, and much too long to be Jonathan’s. She hadn’t thought twice before taking it off the back of the bathroom door and sliding it over her skin and tying it shut with the sash. In fact, she’d been inexplicably drawn to it. Or maybe not so inexplicably, considering her feelings for Clark.
The warm material felt good against her skin and she sighed softly, raking a hand through her damp blond hair and heading out of the bathroom. She didn’t hear any noise from downstairs, so she paused outside Clark’s partially open bedroom door and knocked softly.
“Come in.”
Chloe pushed the door open the rest of the way, folding her arms across her chest and meeting his gaze across the room. His eyes widened slightly at the sight of her in his robe and she saw him swallow hard, a stirring of something--desire?--inside of her. She offered him a smile. “I borrowed your robe.”
“Oh, uh…yeah, I…I see that,” he stammered, nodding and she couldn’t help but grin a little more. He was so cute when he was flustered.
“Want it back?” she asked playfully.
His eyes widened even more and she wondered if it was really possible for someone’s eyes to pop right out of their head. “Uh--”
“Chill, Clark, I was kidding.” Chloe sighed inwardly, trying to hide her disappointment. She dropped down onto his desk chair and gazed at him wordlessly.
“How are you feeling?” he asked, eager to change the subject.
She shrugged a little. “Fine, considering a few hours ago I died and was brought back to life by your biological father.” She smirked.
He tried to smile, but didn’t quite manage it.
Chloe closed her eyes as a flash of guilt washed over, followed by a sadness so deep that she suddenly felt like crying. It nearly took her breath away.
“Chloe?” he asked, alarmed. “Are you all right?”
“Yeah.” She swallowed hard, resting her head in her hands. “I think I’m just tired.”
“Here, lie down.” He rolled off his bed and made his way over to her, helping her up and over to his bed.
She hesitated only a moment before crawling beneath the blankets on his bed. “Clark?”
“Yeah?”
“Will you stay here with me?”
Chloe watched his eyes and if she hadn’t known better, she would have sworn she saw them change to a deeper shade of blue.
Wordlessly he nodded. And after a moment, he laid down beside her. A faint smile on her lips, Chloe fell into a deep sleep almost instantly.