Hi all!
So I'm posting this here after many moons. Thanks to Jen (aka devoted to fantasyland) for directing me to this sight, for it is indeed awesome. This fic is pretty long so I'm posting it in chunks, but it's all written, so the whole thing will be up soon.
Part One
Summary: A brutal kidnapping leads Chloe on a quest to find the identity of her mother.
Disclaimer_: Not mine, don't own them.
Warning: Part One contains some graphic violence and a rape scene.
Author's note: I started writing this story sometime in season two before Chloe and Lex had any interaction or connection what-so-ever. So even though it's a future fic, now that Chlex has a storyline on the show, my fic has turned into a kind of AU where Chloe was never involved with Lionel and by extension, Lex.
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_Chapter 1_
Racing down the street at a brake-neck pace, she kept her eyes fixed on the woman several yards ahead. She was in pursuit. The adrenaline pumping through her body was unbelievable. She had always been a journalist, even before she knew what the word meant, had always been chasing a story, but never this literally. Especially since entering the mundane adult world of newspaper work, a far cry from the adventure filled days of her Wall-of-Weird youth. But here it was again, the thrill of the chase and just like old times, Clark was right there running along side her, glancing at her every two seconds. Maybe making sure she was keeping up? She couldn't tell. He looked like he wanted to just take off and catch this woman, but Chloe thought that even he couldn't have caught up. This lady was lean like a marathon runner. Chloe could barely keep her in sight. People standing and walking along the street began to stop and stare in confusion as the two pushed by, excusing themselves without really meaning it. As they rounded the next corner, Chloe saw the woman had stopped running; had turned to face them. Chloe couldn't suppress the excitement and satisfaction surging through her as she rounded the corner of the building ahead of Clark.
She had her.
Chloe heard a pop, very muted. She ignored the sound and focused instead on the woman, barley registered the feeling of something hitting her left shoulder. She thought a big bug or something had flown right into her, but found instead that her legs lost themselves. She was on the ground before she knew what was happening. Frustration flared as she watched the woman take off running. Instantly Clark was leaning over her.
"Oh my God." he whispered.
"What? I'm okay, you can't let her get away!"
He just stared; fright on his face. For once the man had no idea what to do. And even though pain was starting to seep into the edges of her awareness, she could help but feel smugly satisfied. Clark Kent with no clue how to proceed.
"Clark, GO!" she half choked, half yelled, "An ambulance is already on its way"
Despite the fact that she had no way of knowing that for sure, people had begun to gather. Logic dictated someone would have pulled out their phone to make a call. She could see he was leaning toward the idea of chasing after the woman. *Thank god*. All this would have been for nothing. He had to get going. Clark reached down to stroke her hair tenderly, but the pain had started getting worse and she grimaced unintentionally at his touch.
"You'll be okay, Chloe. I just-- what if she goes after Lana?"
She closed her eyes at that, a surge of pain coming-up from areas undetermined.
"I'm sure an ambulance is coming," her voice coming out flat this time.
He hesitated a second longer, as if there were something else he wanted to say.
But at this point she didn't want to hear it. He was pissing her off, wasting all this time. She felt like she was about to blackout at that point anyway. She opened her drooping lids to tell him as much, but he was gone, she hadn't even realized. So there she was-- left to bleed alone in the street.
*Perfect*.
Consciousness faded in and out. She wasn't sure exactly how long she'd been lying there, but when she woke fully smelling salts were assaulting her nose and her eyes saw only blurry confusion. Men, EMTs she assumed, were asking her questions she couldn't quite understand and the uncomfortably bright day she was revived to made her head throb. They had her on a stretcher and started wheeling her away before she could figure out exactly what was happening. Voices were everywhere, shattering her concentration. Color was flashing in her vision; she could barely see. The entire left side of her body felt like it was made of lead. Confusion and exhaustion were making her complacent, but something was tugging at the edge of her brain. Something was wrong. They'd already placed her in a vehicle and were speeding away when questions began to form in her mind. Do EMTs use smelling salts? Do they load you right up without tending to your wounds? She really wasn't sure.
The jolting ambulance ride was doing nothing for her pain level and she tried to tell the EMTs as much. The looming figure in front of her came in and out of focus as she tried to voice her complaint. But eventually clarity hit, revealing the face in front of her as one she knew well. She'd seen him a million times in photographs, but seeing him in person made ice water run through her veins. She hadn't expected that. Russ Gosch didn't seem quite so menacing in photos. She felt herself panicking, felt certain of her own death, but somehow managed to frown quizzically at him and speak.
"For some reason I find it hard to believe you're working ambulance shifts, considering you usually stick to killing people, not curing them."
"I think its best you keep your mouth shut until I tell you to open it." He smirked as he sank a needle into her arm and she was out again.
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