Chlark Fanfic: The Fallen Sky, Chapter 14
Mar. 6th, 2013 02:55 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
babydee1Greetings, my Lovelies,
…yet even more angst! Again, I’ve taken some liberties with the arrangement and events of Failsday, so my version of events may differ slightly. Which I guess is kind the point, really. :-P
I would say enjoy, but…well, it’s not a happy chapter, to be honest. :-(
Brilliant banner by![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
ellashy.
Title: The Fallen Sky
Author:babydee1
Pairing: Chlark
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Character death; spoilers for 8.22 (Doomsday)
Timeline: Season 8 (Hex - Doomsday) Season 9 (My version)
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. J
Read previous chapter here.
Read story from the beginning here.
Chapter 14
The Unexpected
He should never have left the apartment.
Clark stared glumly at the small, solemn gathering of black-clad mourners on the other side of the lake. The minister was doing the last reading, and his sombre words carried easily across the water.
“He restoreth my soul; he leadeth me in the path of righteousness for His name’s sake,” he recited. “For yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for though art with me.”
A phantom twinge of pain troubled him in the back of his shoulder, and he absently reached out to soothe it. It wasn’t hurting; not now, at any rate. Last week, however, when Oliver had shot him in the shoulder with a kryptonite-tipped arrow for interfering in Chloe’s rescue, the pain had been very real indeed.
***
“What the hell did you do?” Clark snarled as he sped into the room and saw Chloe lying motionless on the floor. “You drugged her?”
Oliver turned to face him, his jaw tight. “You shouldn’t be here, Clark—”
“You drugged her?” he yelled, advancing on Oliver with his fists clenched. “You messed-up, crazy, son of a—”
“Clark, calm down,” Bart said quietly, stopping him in his tracks. “You know we’d never deliberately hurt Chloe, but we did what we had to do. She’s fine; she’s okay.”
“She doesn’t look ‘okay’ to me,” he grated. He turned his back on Oliver and knelt to examine her closely; she looked pale, unusually fragile, like the last several weeks had taken its toll on her - but she didn’t appear to have been harmed, either by the rescue attempt or by Davis.
He lifted a hand to stroke a lock of her hair back from her forehead when a sharp piercing pain lanced through his shoulder, making him scream in agony.
“I told you before, Clark: stay out of the way,” Oliver said sternly. He turned to Bart and A.C. “Let’s get everybody over to the geothermal site: everyone except Clark. He stays exactly where he is.”
***
Yes, getting shot with that arrow had been absolute agony.
But it was nothing compared to the ache in his heart now, as he saw the young man’s ebony casket being lowered into the ground.
“Henry James Olsen: rest in peace,” the minister said with solemn finality.
The knife of guilt twisted further in Clark’s gut, and his vision blurred with tears as Jimmy’s grief-stricken father and brother poured dirt on the casket.
He should never have left the Clocktower. Oliver had not taken kindly to his flouting of the rules, and had made good on his threat to destabilise him; embedding the kryptonite arrow deep in his shoulder blade where he couldn’t reach. It should have been enough to ensure that Clark would stay out of the way and allow Oliver to do what he needed to get Chloe back.
Only Jimmy had found him and taken the arrow out, and rightly surmised that he was The Blur. He had offered to help, and accompanied Clark to the geothermal site where he had, on Clark’s instruction, loaded a still-unconscious Chloe and Davis into his car and driven them to the Watchtower, where he thought they’d be safe.
The gold kryptonite had subdued the beast as expected, separating Davis from Doomsday and shutting the monster down completely…effectively ‘killing’ him.
By the time Clark realised what had happened, it was too late. The erasure lasted for all of thirty seconds, and Doomsday had come back to roaring life; his spikes sharper, his horns bigger, and his lust for blood stronger than ever.
Immediately the team reverted to Plan B: burying the creature alive with blue kryptonite. By some miracle, it had worked. Doomsday was stripped of his powers, and dropped deep into the earth, and because he hadn’t technically been killed, no immunity to the blue kryptonite could take root. He and the team had returned to Metropolis in victory, only to find both Jimmy and Davis dead. Davis, sans beast, was not rid of the blood lust, and he had thrust a metal pipe through Jimmy in a rage and turned on Chloe, intending to do the same. Jimmy had used the last of his strength to grab Davis’s heel and yank it out from under him. Davis had tripped and fallen on his own weapon, and died as a result.
A light breeze lifted his hair, and Clark blinked and watched as the small assembly across the lake began to disperse. Chloe’s looked frail and smaller than usual, her blonde hair glinting in the morning sunlight.
Suddenly she stiffened and turned her head sharply in his direction. Quickly he ducked behind a willow tree and waited for long moments before glancing out, satisfied when he saw that all the mourners had left. Then he slowly started making his way over to the grave site.
***
The diggers were on hand with shovels, getting ready to begin their solemn task. One of them looked up as Clark approached.
“Can we help you, son?” the older of the two men asked.
“Can I have a few moments alone with—with him, please?” he asked politely. “I won’t be too long.”
The gentleman gave him a kindly smile and nodded. “Sure; go ahead. Take as long as you want.”
“Thank you.” They moved some distance away to give him some privacy, and he crouched at the headstone and stared down at the coffin in the ground.
He opened his mouth to speak, but words failed him. There was so much he wanted to say, but none of his words could make a difference now; Jimmy Olsen was dead, and it was his fault.
There was really only one thing he could say.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered sadly. “I’m so sorry, Jimmy.”
He took his invitation to the funeral out of his pocket, and rested it carefully against the headstone. Then he cast one final look into the grave, and slowly got to his feet.
Wherever Jimmy was now, he hoped the young man had found peace.
***
“You alright?” Dinah asked, breaking into her thoughts as they drove along. “You’re very quiet.”
Chloe managed a wintry smile. “I’m fine. I just…want to get home and rest now.”
“No problem, I’ll take you back to Smallville.”
“Actually, I was hoping you’d drop me off at the next corner,” Chloe said. “I need to pick up a prescription at the drug store.”
Dinah’s eyes narrowed suspiciously, and Chloe and continued.
“Ever since—since last week, I’ve been having trouble sleeping,” she explained.
“Oh, okay. Of course.” She turned the car into a Metropolis side street parked in front of the pharmacy. “Do you want me to wait for you?”
Chloe shook her head. “No, I’ll find my way home.”
Dinah regarded her with worried eyes. “Chloe, you really shouldn’t be alone right now.”
“I’ll be fine,” she insisted. “You’ve been a great help, Dinah. Thanks for everything.”
“You’re welcome. You look after yourself, okay?”
Chloe nodded, and waved goodbye as Dinah drove off down the road. As soon as her car turned the corner and went out of sight, Chloe went into the pharmacy and headed down the centre aisle, finally stopping in front of the information desk.
“How can I help you today, miss?” the young clerk asked politely.
“Just one of those, please,” she replied, pointing to the colourful array of pregnancy test kits.
***
“You betrayed me.”
Chloe stared in slack-jawed disbelief at the steel pipe in Davis’s hands, the tip of the instrument dripping with fresh blood. Jimmy lay bleeding on the ground, his skin growing paler with every second.
“Davis…” she swallowed “Oh my God, why?”
“You betrayed me,” he repeated, his eyes wild with rage.
“No, I didn’t, I swear!” she cried. “I didn’t know they were coming for me, you have to believe me—”
“You betrayed me with Clark.”
“Clark?” she echoed.
“All this time, I thought you loved me,” he whispered brokenly. “How could you do this to me?”
Chloe blinked, confused. “I—I don’t understand…”
“You’ve been with him,” he growled. “Intimately. You betrayed me.”
Her heart turned to stone in her chest, thumping in stark fear and terror. How had he known?
“Davis, I—I don’t know what you’re talking about—”
“Don’t even try to deny it, Chloe - I know you had sex with Clark,” he said hollowly as he slowly advanced upon her. “Even if it weren’t already written all over your face, I’d still know.”
“H-how?” she whispered.
In one swift move, he grabbed the front of her shirt and pulled her stiff frame towards him.
“Because I can smell him all over you,” he whispered menacingly, his breath harsh on her cheek. “He’s inside you. And now I can’t let either of you live.”
***
She should have known. Looking back, it was obvious; all the signs had been there. But a baby was the furthest thing from her mind, and the intense pressure of her life over the last few months had gotten her so stressed that she hadn’t even stopped to consider the possibility that she might be pregnant.
The reality of Davis’s words dawned on her very quickly over the next few days, though, as the subtle changes in her body became more and more pronounced. The smell of everything was heightened, as if she’d suddenly developed the sensory attributes of a bloodhound. She was constantly tired, her mouth tasted like pennies…and she threw up every morning without fail over the next seven days.
As Davis had rightly said, there was no denying it. She had been intimate with Clark, and the evidence of said intimacy was blossoming in her womb. That was why Davis’s embrace had made her sick, why he had never been able to get too close to her…because the life of the person he was created to kill was growing inside her, and had prevented him from doing so.
She paid for her purchase and left for the Watchtower, heading straight upstairs to the bathroom. Her fingers were numb as she tore off the wrapping, and they shook as she stared at the little white stick in her hand.
She didn’t know why she was so nervous; she already knew she was carrying Clark’s child. The test was, at this point, simply a formality.
***
Chapter 15…
…yet even more angst! Again, I’ve taken some liberties with the arrangement and events of Failsday, so my version of events may differ slightly. Which I guess is kind the point, really. :-P
I would say enjoy, but…well, it’s not a happy chapter, to be honest. :-(
Brilliant banner by
ellashy. Title: The Fallen Sky
Author:
babydee1Pairing: Chlark
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Character death; spoilers for 8.22 (Doomsday)
Timeline: Season 8 (Hex - Doomsday) Season 9 (My version)
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. J
Read previous chapter here.
Read story from the beginning here.
Chapter 14
The Unexpected
He should never have left the apartment.
Clark stared glumly at the small, solemn gathering of black-clad mourners on the other side of the lake. The minister was doing the last reading, and his sombre words carried easily across the water.
“He restoreth my soul; he leadeth me in the path of righteousness for His name’s sake,” he recited. “For yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for though art with me.”
A phantom twinge of pain troubled him in the back of his shoulder, and he absently reached out to soothe it. It wasn’t hurting; not now, at any rate. Last week, however, when Oliver had shot him in the shoulder with a kryptonite-tipped arrow for interfering in Chloe’s rescue, the pain had been very real indeed.
***
“What the hell did you do?” Clark snarled as he sped into the room and saw Chloe lying motionless on the floor. “You drugged her?”
Oliver turned to face him, his jaw tight. “You shouldn’t be here, Clark—”
“You drugged her?” he yelled, advancing on Oliver with his fists clenched. “You messed-up, crazy, son of a—”
“Clark, calm down,” Bart said quietly, stopping him in his tracks. “You know we’d never deliberately hurt Chloe, but we did what we had to do. She’s fine; she’s okay.”
“She doesn’t look ‘okay’ to me,” he grated. He turned his back on Oliver and knelt to examine her closely; she looked pale, unusually fragile, like the last several weeks had taken its toll on her - but she didn’t appear to have been harmed, either by the rescue attempt or by Davis.
He lifted a hand to stroke a lock of her hair back from her forehead when a sharp piercing pain lanced through his shoulder, making him scream in agony.
“I told you before, Clark: stay out of the way,” Oliver said sternly. He turned to Bart and A.C. “Let’s get everybody over to the geothermal site: everyone except Clark. He stays exactly where he is.”
***
Yes, getting shot with that arrow had been absolute agony.
But it was nothing compared to the ache in his heart now, as he saw the young man’s ebony casket being lowered into the ground.
“Henry James Olsen: rest in peace,” the minister said with solemn finality.
The knife of guilt twisted further in Clark’s gut, and his vision blurred with tears as Jimmy’s grief-stricken father and brother poured dirt on the casket.
He should never have left the Clocktower. Oliver had not taken kindly to his flouting of the rules, and had made good on his threat to destabilise him; embedding the kryptonite arrow deep in his shoulder blade where he couldn’t reach. It should have been enough to ensure that Clark would stay out of the way and allow Oliver to do what he needed to get Chloe back.
Only Jimmy had found him and taken the arrow out, and rightly surmised that he was The Blur. He had offered to help, and accompanied Clark to the geothermal site where he had, on Clark’s instruction, loaded a still-unconscious Chloe and Davis into his car and driven them to the Watchtower, where he thought they’d be safe.
The gold kryptonite had subdued the beast as expected, separating Davis from Doomsday and shutting the monster down completely…effectively ‘killing’ him.
By the time Clark realised what had happened, it was too late. The erasure lasted for all of thirty seconds, and Doomsday had come back to roaring life; his spikes sharper, his horns bigger, and his lust for blood stronger than ever.
Immediately the team reverted to Plan B: burying the creature alive with blue kryptonite. By some miracle, it had worked. Doomsday was stripped of his powers, and dropped deep into the earth, and because he hadn’t technically been killed, no immunity to the blue kryptonite could take root. He and the team had returned to Metropolis in victory, only to find both Jimmy and Davis dead. Davis, sans beast, was not rid of the blood lust, and he had thrust a metal pipe through Jimmy in a rage and turned on Chloe, intending to do the same. Jimmy had used the last of his strength to grab Davis’s heel and yank it out from under him. Davis had tripped and fallen on his own weapon, and died as a result.
A light breeze lifted his hair, and Clark blinked and watched as the small assembly across the lake began to disperse. Chloe’s looked frail and smaller than usual, her blonde hair glinting in the morning sunlight.
Suddenly she stiffened and turned her head sharply in his direction. Quickly he ducked behind a willow tree and waited for long moments before glancing out, satisfied when he saw that all the mourners had left. Then he slowly started making his way over to the grave site.
***
The diggers were on hand with shovels, getting ready to begin their solemn task. One of them looked up as Clark approached.
“Can we help you, son?” the older of the two men asked.
“Can I have a few moments alone with—with him, please?” he asked politely. “I won’t be too long.”
The gentleman gave him a kindly smile and nodded. “Sure; go ahead. Take as long as you want.”
“Thank you.” They moved some distance away to give him some privacy, and he crouched at the headstone and stared down at the coffin in the ground.
He opened his mouth to speak, but words failed him. There was so much he wanted to say, but none of his words could make a difference now; Jimmy Olsen was dead, and it was his fault.
There was really only one thing he could say.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered sadly. “I’m so sorry, Jimmy.”
He took his invitation to the funeral out of his pocket, and rested it carefully against the headstone. Then he cast one final look into the grave, and slowly got to his feet.
Wherever Jimmy was now, he hoped the young man had found peace.
***
“You alright?” Dinah asked, breaking into her thoughts as they drove along. “You’re very quiet.”
Chloe managed a wintry smile. “I’m fine. I just…want to get home and rest now.”
“No problem, I’ll take you back to Smallville.”
“Actually, I was hoping you’d drop me off at the next corner,” Chloe said. “I need to pick up a prescription at the drug store.”
Dinah’s eyes narrowed suspiciously, and Chloe and continued.
“Ever since—since last week, I’ve been having trouble sleeping,” she explained.
“Oh, okay. Of course.” She turned the car into a Metropolis side street parked in front of the pharmacy. “Do you want me to wait for you?”
Chloe shook her head. “No, I’ll find my way home.”
Dinah regarded her with worried eyes. “Chloe, you really shouldn’t be alone right now.”
“I’ll be fine,” she insisted. “You’ve been a great help, Dinah. Thanks for everything.”
“You’re welcome. You look after yourself, okay?”
Chloe nodded, and waved goodbye as Dinah drove off down the road. As soon as her car turned the corner and went out of sight, Chloe went into the pharmacy and headed down the centre aisle, finally stopping in front of the information desk.
“How can I help you today, miss?” the young clerk asked politely.
“Just one of those, please,” she replied, pointing to the colourful array of pregnancy test kits.
***
“You betrayed me.”
Chloe stared in slack-jawed disbelief at the steel pipe in Davis’s hands, the tip of the instrument dripping with fresh blood. Jimmy lay bleeding on the ground, his skin growing paler with every second.
“Davis…” she swallowed “Oh my God, why?”
“You betrayed me,” he repeated, his eyes wild with rage.
“No, I didn’t, I swear!” she cried. “I didn’t know they were coming for me, you have to believe me—”
“You betrayed me with Clark.”
“Clark?” she echoed.
“All this time, I thought you loved me,” he whispered brokenly. “How could you do this to me?”
Chloe blinked, confused. “I—I don’t understand…”
“You’ve been with him,” he growled. “Intimately. You betrayed me.”
Her heart turned to stone in her chest, thumping in stark fear and terror. How had he known?
“Davis, I—I don’t know what you’re talking about—”
“Don’t even try to deny it, Chloe - I know you had sex with Clark,” he said hollowly as he slowly advanced upon her. “Even if it weren’t already written all over your face, I’d still know.”
“H-how?” she whispered.
In one swift move, he grabbed the front of her shirt and pulled her stiff frame towards him.
“Because I can smell him all over you,” he whispered menacingly, his breath harsh on her cheek. “He’s inside you. And now I can’t let either of you live.”
***
She should have known. Looking back, it was obvious; all the signs had been there. But a baby was the furthest thing from her mind, and the intense pressure of her life over the last few months had gotten her so stressed that she hadn’t even stopped to consider the possibility that she might be pregnant.
The reality of Davis’s words dawned on her very quickly over the next few days, though, as the subtle changes in her body became more and more pronounced. The smell of everything was heightened, as if she’d suddenly developed the sensory attributes of a bloodhound. She was constantly tired, her mouth tasted like pennies…and she threw up every morning without fail over the next seven days.
As Davis had rightly said, there was no denying it. She had been intimate with Clark, and the evidence of said intimacy was blossoming in her womb. That was why Davis’s embrace had made her sick, why he had never been able to get too close to her…because the life of the person he was created to kill was growing inside her, and had prevented him from doing so.
She paid for her purchase and left for the Watchtower, heading straight upstairs to the bathroom. Her fingers were numb as she tore off the wrapping, and they shook as she stared at the little white stick in her hand.
She didn’t know why she was so nervous; she already knew she was carrying Clark’s child. The test was, at this point, simply a formality.
***
Chapter 15…
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