Season 4, "Spell"
Rating: Adult. If you're under eighteen, please go elsewhere now.
Disclaimer: These characters belong to the CW and DC Comics, not to me.
Author's Note: This is darker than my usual stories. Elements of rape, bondage, and sadism.
"Why are you avoiding me, Clark?"
Clark had been sitting in his loft, his head in his hands, but at the sound of Chloe's voice, he jumped violently and lifted his head. Chloe stood there, her hair and makeup normal, her nails trimmed back to the usual short length. A bright shaft of afternoon sunlight lit her hair to a brilliant molten gold, and she wore a pair of faded jeans and an oversized t-shirt that said, Journalists do it on keyboards.
Which was an image he really didn't need in his head right now.
He decided to pretend he didn't know what she was talking about. "I haven't been avoiding you," he answered.
"Crap," she said impatiently. If he hadn't been so upset, the single blunt word would have made him smile. Chloe had never been one to put up with obfuscation on his part. She walked toward him, and he rose to his feet and backed away cautiously.
"See," she said, "that's what I'm talking about. You've been skittish ever since the whole possession incident. You cut and run this morning, just as soon as you were sure we were all okay, and I haven't seen you since. You haven't been answering your cell, either. What's wrong?"
Once he'd realized Chloe was back to normal, he'd picked up Lana and Lois-- one at a time, so as not to give away his secret to Chloe-- and removed them from the inner sanctum of the cave. The rock wall had slid shut, sealing off the chamber and its secrets from the world, and he'd seen bright curiosity in Chloe's eyes.
But before she could start asking questions, Lana and Lois had awakened. All three girls claimed not to remember anything that had occurred while they'd been possessed, to his mingled relief and guilt.
He swallowed uncomfortably, looking away from her. He knew he should have told Chloe what had happened right away. She had a right to know what had happened to her body. But the guilt weighed him down like a stone, and he hadn't been able to bring himself to tell her.
He steeled himself, and began hesitantly to explain what had happened. "The witch who possessed you... her name was Madeline."
Chloe nodded. "Yeah, I know," she said.
He lifted an eyebrow. "Did I tell you that?"
"No," she answered softly. "I remember what happened."
The words shocked the hell out of him, sending a bolt of panic and horror through him. He all but reeled backward. "But this morning you said you didn't remember anything."
"I was covering so Lana and Lois wouldn't bug me for details. They honestly don't remember a thing. We all talked a long time this afternoon, and I'm certain they don't have a clue about anything that happened. But I do. I remember it all."
He stared at her, his brain swirling with amorphous, half-formed thoughts. She remembered.
Jesus, she remembered everything.
He thought of the way he'd let Madeline use him, the way he'd used Chloe, and hot guilt and shame rose up in his throat, choking him.
"I... I don't understand," he stammered at last, barely able to get words out. "Why would you remember if they don't?"
"Maybe because you weren't calling to them, trying to get them to help you," she said. "You're the one who woke me up, Clark. The first thing I remember is you calling my name. You said, Chloe, please, you have to help me. I know you're in there."
Using their "magicks," the witches had pinned him on the ground in order to strip his powers away. Helpless, unable even to struggle, he'd looked up at Chloe and uttered those words.
He remembered her soft reply: Clark?
"You said my name," he said. "That was you."
He'd been certain it was Chloe's voice saying his name, but when Madeline had uttered her cruel laugh, he'd thought she was just playing games with him. But it had been Chloe after all.
Somehow he'd gotten through to her.
She nodded. "I woke up when you said my name, and I tried to fight her off, Clark. I tried really hard. But she-- it's hard to explain what it felt like. It was like being imprisoned in a little box with glass walls. She couldn't get rid of me entirely, but she forced me to the side. All I could do was watch. I couldn't control my own body. I was helpless. I did manage to say your name a couple of times, though."
He remembered her voice, saying, Clark, kiss me. He remembered her voice whispering his name as he climaxed.
It had been Chloe's voice, after all.
"Anyway." She avoided meeting his eyes. "When the other witches flung me-- us-- into the wall, we were both knocked out for a second. I came to first, and that helped me regain control. I was able to keep Madeline pushed to the side."
All of a sudden he understood what had happened this morning in the cave. "You're the one that grabbed the crystal," he said. "It was you, not Madeline. That's why it didn't hurt you, even though it hurt Isobelle and Brianna."
She nodded. "It didn't hurt me at all. I guess it doesn't hurt ordinary humans. It hurt Madeline like hell, though. I could hear her screaming in my head. And I could see how angry Isobelle was, and she was talking about defeating you..." Her voice trembled. "I was afraid they'd do something really awful to you this time, maybe even kill you. I had to do something. I figured maybe if the stone hurt them, it would hurt the book, too."
He stared at her, astounded. She'd put herself in danger and defended him without an instant's hesitation, and defeated three powerful witches single-handedly. "Is Madeline really gone now?"
"Yeah." She nodded. "I don't know where the witches went. To Hell, maybe. They just... disappeared... when the book blew up. I was knocked unconscious again, and when I woke up, she was gone."
"Thank God for that," he said with feeling.
"Clark..." She walked toward him slowly and put a hand on his chest in a familiar, friendly gesture. He jolted nervously, but she didn't seem to notice. "I'm sorry for everything I did to you. Terribly sorry."
He looked away from her honest, wide eyes. "You didn't do anything to me," he answered in a rough whisper. "It wasn't you at all. It was Madeline."
"I tried to stop her." Her voice was very soft. "I tried so hard, but I just... wasn't strong enough. I'm sorry."
He could hardly believe she was apologizing to him. "I'm the one who's sorry, Chlo. I shouldn't have let her control me that way. I didn't mean to use you that way. I just..." His voice wobbled, and he struggled to steady it. "I guess I'm weak."
"Maybe we're both weak," she answered softly. "I never would have wanted to hurt you, Clark, but the sex part of it... if I'm going to be honest about it, I have to admit I'm pretty sure I didn't fight her as hard as I could have. I've wanted you for so long, and I..." Her voice fell to a whisper, and she bowed her head, looking at the floor. "I'm so sorry."
He looked down at her downbent head, and warm affection filled him. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her roughly to his chest.
"I'm just glad to have you back," he whispered into her hair.
She pressed her face into his chest, putting her arms around his waist and squeezing him fiercely. "I hated for your first time to be like that," she murmured,her voice muffled against his shirt. "I hated her for doing that to you."
"I hated her for doing it to both of us." He pressed his face into her hair, drawing comfort from her familiar fragrance. "Listen, Chlo, I was really freaked out by everything. But I still should have told you what happened right away."
"I think I would have known even if I didn't remember it, Clark. I was kind of... sore."
Given the violent way he'd screwed her body, he wasn't surprised she was sore. "It's not like you haven't done it before," he answered, more harshly than he intended. "I guess you'd know what it feels like."
She lifted her head, and for the first time a hint of anger glinted in her eyes. "Why exactly are you getting all pissy about it? It's not like I'm your girlfriend or anything. In fact, I offered a couple of weeks ago, and you said no. Again."
"So is that when you...?"
"No. It was a couple of years ago, actually. And it was only once, not that it's really any of your business. You don't own me, Clark. You've never wanted me."
"I'm stupid," he said hoarsely. "I want you a lot more than I ever realized."
She lifted an eyebrow. "I know it was pretty intense, Clark, but that was Madeline, not me."
"It wasn't her," he snapped. "Maybe you didn't notice, but the whole time we were having sex, I kept saying your name. It was you, Chlo. It was the way you smell and the way you feel and... oh, hell. I wanted you, Chloe. Not her. You."
She looked into his eyes for a long moment, and he saw the anger fade, to be replaced by tenderness and a touch of humor. "Any particular reason you couldn't share this epiphany with me this morning?"
"I didn't want to talk, Chlo. And I'm sorry, because I know I should have told you about everything that happened right away. But I just couldn't face you." He swallowed hard. "I was ashamed."
"You don't have anything to be ashamed about," she whispered.
At her freely offered absolution, some of his guilt and shame melted away. "Neither do you," he answered softly, pulling her against him more tightly than before.
He pressed his face into her hair and held her for long moments, loving the way she fit him. Her head nestled right under his chin, and her body felt soft and warm and right against his.
At last she stirred against his chest. "Hey," she said. "While we're baring our souls here, I want to know what happened to your injuries."
He abruptly let go of her and backed away, suddenly nervous again. The moment she'd told him she remembered what had happened, he'd expected this to come up. The problem was, he wasn't at all sure what he should tell her. "What do you mean?"
"Don't play dumb, Clark. I mean you were cut everywhere. You had a cut on your lip and bites on your throat, and they're all gone. And Madeline scratched up your chest pretty badly, but I'm pretty sure if I pulled up your shirt, I'd see you didn't have any marks there, either."
He looked at her for a long moment, then sighed and tugged up his shirt, showing her the completely unscathed skin of his chest and abdomen.
"Yeah, that's what I figured." He pulled his shirt back down, and she frowned, looking puzzled. "Madeline thought you were a sorcerer at first, but then she and the others decided you were something more. Something bigger and badder than a sorcerer. She wasn't sure what you were, but I think I have a pretty good idea. Did the meteors affect you, Clark?"
He hesitated again, then decided to come clean. If there was anyone on Earth he could trust with his secret, it was Chloe.
"No," he answered. "The truth is, I'm not from around here."
Read Chapter 7 here.