AN: This is what happens when your Muse returns at 1 AM in the morning
during a huge thunderstorm after hanging out a "Chloe's Gunna DIE!" type
thread thing. It's also a thing that "could" happen but I haven't seen it
suggested very much.
Poor, odd me. It's not a lot of Chlark, it's hinting at Plana and Chlex and Lanex. And none of it is all that sweet. It is Chloe-centric. Probably the only semi-good thing about it.
Extra special huggles to Mark (Or should I dub him Beta-Markle?) who did a fantastic job as a beta. Just absolutely wonderful job. *huggles for Mark* Comments and feedback (any which way) is luved. ^^ -------------------------
"Reverberations"
by Chiri
---------------------------------------------- Chloe Sullivan was dead. Not physically, not yet. But everything she was or had been was taken. A shattered memory in a hallow body, the broken will of a woman once strong.
She was a woman who had made a grave error and who had been far too arrogant in her pursuit. Maybe her naivete was partly to blame but, it was arrogance all the same.
She could remember when she had hopes. Hopes, dreams, and aspirations, all of them attainable, all of them possible.
Now she had nothing.
She could remember the day it happened. The day when she lost what had been her life. She was straight out of college then, and working part-time at the Metropolis Globe. She was a hop, skip, and a jump away from making it big... from making it at the Planet.
She didn't care the price, she didn't care if it had to be freelance at first. She didn't care at all.
That carelessness had cost her everything.
Clark had supported her, had helped her. Had held her up when things turned out wrong. After Lori had left, she was there. She had stuck by him, helped him through.
So it only stood as fact that a few years later he would help her. The diamond band around her finger only attested to the lengths he was willing to go, the mountains he would move. And could if he put his mind to it.
But, no, the story was the single minded goal. She had never been rational, a rational woman would of cared more about her relationship or her family, or would have even taken a day off.
Chloe was far from rational. She was obsessed. What had been passing comment from her father had raised her suspicion. Meeting with sources, she found out more and more of the truth. It was a horrible, bitter reality.
When the wool is removed from one's eyes, they see. And for a moment they see in such perfect clarity what is good and what is bad. They have an epiphany. But the eyes want to close to all that is bad and evil. They want the wool. And no matter how many times one turns their head, shuts their eyes, or tries to forget, the ugliness that can be truth remains, imprinted on the mind.
She had found the truth. Her bold, self-assured and self-acclaimed seeker had found it. And more than anything she had wanted to forget. To go back and erase memories. To make her turn towards the Kent's back alley dirt road instead of the paved lining to the Luthor Estate.
She had confronted Lex. First as a friend, second as a journalist. It wasn't that she knew a secret. It was that she knew all his secrets. Especially the ones concerning her fiancée.
When she had found out originally, there had been a slight rift. She was scared, unbelieving. But Clark Kent hadn't given up on her, and she came around. Happily, one could add.
She had always felt guilty for her reaction, but she swore on that day to protect him. She was mortal and vulnerable. And she would save him, from what ever would harm him.
Her pompous attitude strode in with an ultimatum. She swore she could stop the billionaire. But life came to a crashing halt when Lex Luthor dealt out a few ultimatums of his own.
At first she thought little of it. What she should have known then. Slowly, her life was eaten away. She wouldn't give up, although she knew he was giving her time to change her mind.
When her father disappeared for good, is when she let it go. She promised herself she would save him. Finishing her tango with the Devil himself was the only way now. The heartbroken look of her lover's as she dropped a ring in his palm haunted her everynight.
She knows she failed to do in life what she had set out for. Lofty ideals only come crashing down, and she knew that. That's what she beat herself up with most. That she knew.
Lex wanted her secrets, her sources. She refused. What good was it now? She had nothing left to loose, nothing left to hold onto.
For a while, Death would of been a nice, swift and sweet gift. But Luthor presents always have riders attached, and Lex wasn't up for a nice game of Russian Roulette right now.
Within a week for confronting Clark with her engagement ring, very little of her existed. Her father's home, her mother's apartment, and her rooms were all emptied, gone. One night she found her quater's filled with her own property. She never asked why, but it's been there ever since.
She had danced with the Devil for years now. His secrets and hers, on issues and cover ups. In bed. If she had something worth anything anymore, she'd care.
Nothing had meaning nor value.
She used to live on the edge. Breaking into his warehouses, meeting sources, living a life that could be just as dangerous as any spy.
Now danger had another meaning.
Danger was calling Lois Lane on the telephone and dropping bread crumbs. Danger was cleaning up certain information after Superman stops her boss in his tracks. Danger was her nightly hack to keep the secret of the man she still loved safe. Danger was looking Lex in the eye every morning and lying her ass off to keep alive another day.
The man who used to try and befriend a teenage editor seemed to have given her everything to the outside world. As Press Secretary, it seemed as if her life was one to be envied by other people in the United States.
It wasn't.
She wasn't blind, she still could feel the gilded cage around her, the hand of constant death ever gripping at her throat. Just waiting for the one step that would send her to her doom.
Words she didn't write and thoughts she didn't believe came constantly from her perfectly red lips. Her small stature was in a perfectly tailored suit, her hair perfectly styled. Every part of her fitting into Lex Luthor's perfect world, his perfect country.
Every now and again she'd see Pete in the halls. He'd spare her a glance, just one. She wonders if her eyes are as haunted as his, or if he keeps wondering if that's really her. Wondering what did Luthor do to bring her so far from herself.
She read the papers.
'Lane & Kent' were her favorites. Sometimes, when she was day dreaming, it will read 'Sullivan & Kent' like it used to back in days of the Torch and the Harbinger. Or maybe even, 'Kent & Kent' if it was a particularly good daydream.
She never allowed Lex to know she read the paper, although she did suppose he knew. She thinks that he probably let it slide as long as she said nothing about a former cheerleader and wife of his Vice President that visited his room on a weekly schedule.
And she wondered why that was important to him. Why would she complain about a day off from having to share her bed with a man she didn't love, but loathed?
Some days, she would pray for release, a release from life. She wondered if Clark even remembered her or if Pete really knew what Lana was doing. She pondered what really turned Lex evil, it had to go further back than the story she had. She wondered how long she could keep Clark safe and if Lex already knew and let her keep trying to save her ex. To keep that wool over her eyes.
If so, she really must thank him, properly.
Ignorance was bliss, and she didn't have much of it left. Just enough to content her every once in a while, just enough to keep her from two quick and deep slashes up her arms, just enough to make her think she could still change the world. That she could still show the world the truth.
She was stuck, in a fate worse than death. Lana used to ask her if she ever thought fate was cruel, if her life wasn't what it was supposed to be. She said 'no.' She knew now that she was wrong. And there was nothing she could do to change the err of her ways.
Chloe Sullivan was dead, but the worst part was, she kept living.
-fin-
Poor, odd me. It's not a lot of Chlark, it's hinting at Plana and Chlex and Lanex. And none of it is all that sweet. It is Chloe-centric. Probably the only semi-good thing about it.
Extra special huggles to Mark (Or should I dub him Beta-Markle?) who did a fantastic job as a beta. Just absolutely wonderful job. *huggles for Mark* Comments and feedback (any which way) is luved. ^^ -------------------------
"Reverberations"
by Chiri
---------------------------------------------- Chloe Sullivan was dead. Not physically, not yet. But everything she was or had been was taken. A shattered memory in a hallow body, the broken will of a woman once strong.
She was a woman who had made a grave error and who had been far too arrogant in her pursuit. Maybe her naivete was partly to blame but, it was arrogance all the same.
She could remember when she had hopes. Hopes, dreams, and aspirations, all of them attainable, all of them possible.
Now she had nothing.
She could remember the day it happened. The day when she lost what had been her life. She was straight out of college then, and working part-time at the Metropolis Globe. She was a hop, skip, and a jump away from making it big... from making it at the Planet.
She didn't care the price, she didn't care if it had to be freelance at first. She didn't care at all.
That carelessness had cost her everything.
Clark had supported her, had helped her. Had held her up when things turned out wrong. After Lori had left, she was there. She had stuck by him, helped him through.
So it only stood as fact that a few years later he would help her. The diamond band around her finger only attested to the lengths he was willing to go, the mountains he would move. And could if he put his mind to it.
But, no, the story was the single minded goal. She had never been rational, a rational woman would of cared more about her relationship or her family, or would have even taken a day off.
Chloe was far from rational. She was obsessed. What had been passing comment from her father had raised her suspicion. Meeting with sources, she found out more and more of the truth. It was a horrible, bitter reality.
When the wool is removed from one's eyes, they see. And for a moment they see in such perfect clarity what is good and what is bad. They have an epiphany. But the eyes want to close to all that is bad and evil. They want the wool. And no matter how many times one turns their head, shuts their eyes, or tries to forget, the ugliness that can be truth remains, imprinted on the mind.
She had found the truth. Her bold, self-assured and self-acclaimed seeker had found it. And more than anything she had wanted to forget. To go back and erase memories. To make her turn towards the Kent's back alley dirt road instead of the paved lining to the Luthor Estate.
She had confronted Lex. First as a friend, second as a journalist. It wasn't that she knew a secret. It was that she knew all his secrets. Especially the ones concerning her fiancée.
When she had found out originally, there had been a slight rift. She was scared, unbelieving. But Clark Kent hadn't given up on her, and she came around. Happily, one could add.
She had always felt guilty for her reaction, but she swore on that day to protect him. She was mortal and vulnerable. And she would save him, from what ever would harm him.
Her pompous attitude strode in with an ultimatum. She swore she could stop the billionaire. But life came to a crashing halt when Lex Luthor dealt out a few ultimatums of his own.
At first she thought little of it. What she should have known then. Slowly, her life was eaten away. She wouldn't give up, although she knew he was giving her time to change her mind.
When her father disappeared for good, is when she let it go. She promised herself she would save him. Finishing her tango with the Devil himself was the only way now. The heartbroken look of her lover's as she dropped a ring in his palm haunted her everynight.
She knows she failed to do in life what she had set out for. Lofty ideals only come crashing down, and she knew that. That's what she beat herself up with most. That she knew.
Lex wanted her secrets, her sources. She refused. What good was it now? She had nothing left to loose, nothing left to hold onto.
For a while, Death would of been a nice, swift and sweet gift. But Luthor presents always have riders attached, and Lex wasn't up for a nice game of Russian Roulette right now.
Within a week for confronting Clark with her engagement ring, very little of her existed. Her father's home, her mother's apartment, and her rooms were all emptied, gone. One night she found her quater's filled with her own property. She never asked why, but it's been there ever since.
She had danced with the Devil for years now. His secrets and hers, on issues and cover ups. In bed. If she had something worth anything anymore, she'd care.
Nothing had meaning nor value.
She used to live on the edge. Breaking into his warehouses, meeting sources, living a life that could be just as dangerous as any spy.
Now danger had another meaning.
Danger was calling Lois Lane on the telephone and dropping bread crumbs. Danger was cleaning up certain information after Superman stops her boss in his tracks. Danger was her nightly hack to keep the secret of the man she still loved safe. Danger was looking Lex in the eye every morning and lying her ass off to keep alive another day.
The man who used to try and befriend a teenage editor seemed to have given her everything to the outside world. As Press Secretary, it seemed as if her life was one to be envied by other people in the United States.
It wasn't.
She wasn't blind, she still could feel the gilded cage around her, the hand of constant death ever gripping at her throat. Just waiting for the one step that would send her to her doom.
Words she didn't write and thoughts she didn't believe came constantly from her perfectly red lips. Her small stature was in a perfectly tailored suit, her hair perfectly styled. Every part of her fitting into Lex Luthor's perfect world, his perfect country.
Every now and again she'd see Pete in the halls. He'd spare her a glance, just one. She wonders if her eyes are as haunted as his, or if he keeps wondering if that's really her. Wondering what did Luthor do to bring her so far from herself.
She read the papers.
'Lane & Kent' were her favorites. Sometimes, when she was day dreaming, it will read 'Sullivan & Kent' like it used to back in days of the Torch and the Harbinger. Or maybe even, 'Kent & Kent' if it was a particularly good daydream.
She never allowed Lex to know she read the paper, although she did suppose he knew. She thinks that he probably let it slide as long as she said nothing about a former cheerleader and wife of his Vice President that visited his room on a weekly schedule.
And she wondered why that was important to him. Why would she complain about a day off from having to share her bed with a man she didn't love, but loathed?
Some days, she would pray for release, a release from life. She wondered if Clark even remembered her or if Pete really knew what Lana was doing. She pondered what really turned Lex evil, it had to go further back than the story she had. She wondered how long she could keep Clark safe and if Lex already knew and let her keep trying to save her ex. To keep that wool over her eyes.
If so, she really must thank him, properly.
Ignorance was bliss, and she didn't have much of it left. Just enough to content her every once in a while, just enough to keep her from two quick and deep slashes up her arms, just enough to make her think she could still change the world. That she could still show the world the truth.
She was stuck, in a fate worse than death. Lana used to ask her if she ever thought fate was cruel, if her life wasn't what it was supposed to be. She said 'no.' She knew now that she was wrong. And there was nothing she could do to change the err of her ways.
Chloe Sullivan was dead, but the worst part was, she kept living.
-fin-