Chlark fanfic: Wounded Heart - Chapter 2
Sorry it's late, but better late than never!
Banner by the lovely ctbn60. Thanks so much, Carol! :-)
Title: Wounded Heart, Ch 2
Author: BabyDee
Rating: PG13 (for now)
Pairing: Chlark
Warnings: Some angst, indications of torture, one use of bad language (but with totally good reason!)
Timeline: Post-‘Legion’
Disclaimer: Characters belong to the CW & DC Comics
Read previous chapter here.
Read story from the beginning here.
Present Day
July 2009
“I’ve been going through the information you’ve given us, Miss Sullivan. It appears you’ve not been completely honest with us.”
The Head of Operations - a Briton with a posh accent whom Chloe had inwardly dubbed the Chief Tormentor - spoke in clipped tones as he regarded her with a look that she guessed never met with much resistance. Why did they always have to be British? She wondered grumpily.
She lifted her chin and met his steely gaze with one of her own.
“I’m not lying,” She replied blankly. “What I’ve told you is the truth, I swear it.”
He shook his head. “If it is, then this…” he tapped the clipboard “…makes no sense. I’m giving you the chance to come clean, young lady. It could mean less of all this.”
“I already told you, I’m not lying!” Chloe exclaimed.
“So you say.” He turned to the uniformed woman that Chloe had clashed with earlier. “Hook her up to it. Maybe that’ll help move things forward.”
The uniformed woman approached her with a tray containing, among other things, an ominous-looking vial and an intravenous needle.
“What is that?” Chloe said, alarmed. “What are you doing?”
The woman, who bore more than a passing resemblance to Cruella De Vil, smiled without mirth and hooked Chloe up to the dastardly device. “Just a little persuasion,” she said coolly, and made an adjustment to the dial.
Chloe winced as the needle stung the back of her hand. At first, she felt nothing. And then, to her horror, her veins began to burn as what could only be described as liquid acid coursed through them. Desperate not to scream, she gritted her teeth and moaned as tears freely fell down her face.
The Chief Tormentor showed no sign of compassion in the face of Chloe’s pain.
“That usually does the trick,” he said with an air of authority. He turned on his heel and walked toward the door, pausing to talk to Cruella. “Let me know how she’s doing in another hour. If you need assistance for any reason, Maria’s on standby.”
He left the room. Cruella approached her side with crisp efficiency.
“Just so you know,” she began, “I have no problem amping up the flow of your IV if I feel it’ll get us answers. I’m telling you now so you can prepare yourself for the pain. Do you understand?”
Chloe shot her a filthy look.
“I’ll take that as a yes, shall I?” she finished sweetly. She whipped out the loathsome clipboard. “Now, about that name-”
“Will you fuck off?” Chloe yelled.
“There’s no need to be rude,” she replied thinly. “I’m simply doing my job.”
“Yeah? Well, you suck at it,” Chloe spat.
Cruella’s mouth curled in a wry smile. “That’s the pain talking.” She headed for the door. “Whenever you’re ready, you know how to reach me,” she tossed over her shoulder as she exited the room.
As if I’d want to, Chloe thought grimly as her insides clamoured for relief from the intense pain caused by the hateful fluid attacking her nervous system. She squeezed her eyes shut and gritted her teeth again, only relaxing when she tasted blood on her abused gums. She sobbed silently, hating her weakness, doing her best to be strong, but she wasn’t sure how much more of this she could humanly be expected to take.
Clark, she said inwardly, wherever you are, I hate you so much right now for making me go through this.
***
Present Day
Daily Planet
It was going from bad to worse.
Clark had listened to every sad love song ever written. And with every passing tune, the lyrics had struck very close to home and he’d felt more and more like an idiot. The second Greg had stepped away from his desk, Clark had snuck over to the I-pod and taken it off ‘shuffle’, then selected the folder titled ‘Rock it Out!’ from Greg’s playlist. To his relief, strains of Linkin Park began to fill the air. Satisfied, he headed toward his desk.
And before he’d taken a step, the lyrics of the song ‘Leave Out All the Rest’ sank into his ears:
‘I dreamed I was missing
You were so scared
But no one would listen
‘Cause no one else cared…’
Clark closed his eyes. Ever since Chloe had left, he’d been frantic something bad would happen to her. He’d had visions of her being kidnapped, tortured and suffering unbearable pain, and more than once he’d considered checking up on her. Unbeknownst to Chloe, she wouldn’t be too difficult for him to find, wherever she was in the world.
The song continued.
‘When my time comes, forget the wrong that I've done
Help me leave behind some reasons to be missed
And don't resent me, and when you're feeling empty
Keep me in your memory, leave out all the rest
Leave out all the rest…’
There was a nagging feeling in the pit of Clark’s stomach. On a hunch, he picked up his cellphone and dialled Chloe’s number.
It rang six times, and then he got a drawn out disconnected tone. He hung up and dialled again. This time, it went straight to voicemail. Clark sat down at his desk, head in hands.
‘Don’t be afraid…
I’ve taken my beating,
I’ve shed but I’m me
I’m strong on the surface, not all the way through…’
Something was wrong. He was almost sure of it. He started to activate his superhearing, but then stopped.
The last thing Chloe needed was him spying on her. Ever since Clark had refused to own up to stealing her memories, the foundation of trust in their relationship had been badly shaken. If Clark wanted things between them to get back to the way they were, he had to trust Chloe to be able to look after herself.
Still, he couldn’t shake off that nagging feeling. He tried Chloe’s cell again, but once more the call was redirected to her chirpy voicemail message.
Damn it. He had to know. He started activating his superhearing again.
And what? He asked himself. If he sought her out and she had an elevated heart rate, it didn’t necessarily mean she was in danger. And if he went charging off to find her, he could ruin everything.
An elevated heart rate could be a result of anything, from a jog in the park to a rollercoaster ride to - he closed his eyes - sex. He was well aware of Chloe’s trust issues with him at present. If he suddenly turned up where she was, she’d never trust him again - especially if she was with someone.
He smiled ruefully. She'd be fine. He was just overreacting. He'd gotten so used to speaking with her everyday for eight years that the once a week calls they now shared seemed like prisoner rations.
‘Forgetting all the hurt inside you've learned to hide so well
Pretending someone else can come and save me from myself…’
Clark frowned. As long as this song was playing, that gut feeling would never go away. With a surreptitious glance around to make sure no-one was looking, he let out a short gust of superbreath in the direction of the I-pod. Hoobastank filled the air.
‘I don't want you to give it all up
And leave your own life collecting dust
And I don't want you to feel sorry for me
You never gave us a chance to be
And I don't need you to be by my side
To tell me that everything's alright
I just wanted you to tell me the truth
You know I’d do that for you
So why are you running away?
Why are you running away?’
Clark’s head hit the desk. It was going to one of those days.
***
Chapter 3...