Title: Consume Me
Author: Arian (arianstarr)
Fandom: Smallville/DCU
Category: AU, angst, futurefic
Pairing: Bruce Wayne/Clark Kent
Spoilers: Through to the S6 finale of Smallville. AU from that point forward
Disclaimer: Don't own, don't profit, just like to play.
Notes: Part of the Tomorrow 'verse
Summary: Take this all away. Take me from this place. Show me what I'm meant to be.
"Hello? Anyone home?" Chloe pulled open the screen door leading into the Kent's kitchen, listening for sounds of Clark nearby. The smell struck her after a moment. The windows were open, and she might not have noticed if the wind hadn't changed course and blown the stench of rotting food towards her.
Chloe frowned at the bowl of apples gone bad on the centre island, at the dinner plate left sitting on the counter by the sink, food nearly untouched and half hidden by a crumpled paper napkin. Stepping closer showed her the fork lying forgotten on the floor, the knife sticking out at a tilt from the drain where it had slid down and gotten stuck tip first. A dirty pot with new-grown mold coating the leftovers inside also took up space in the sink.
"Clark?"
She climbed the stairs slowly, ears picking up on the almost unnatural quiet of the house. She could almost hear the phantom sounds of Mrs. Kent baking at the bottom of the stairs and the clump of Clark and his father's boots on the porch as Martha called out laughing orders to not trek mud onto her clean floors. She paused a moment, smiling sadly, missing Mr. Kent and wondering how Mrs. Kent was faring in Washington.
Resuming her climb, she made her way to Clark's bedroom, tapping softly on the almost-closed door before pushing it open and taking in the room. Clark's bed was unmade, dirty laundry was stacked in the corner by the desk, waiting to be washed. Some of his dresser drawers were open, and Chloe moved inside to inspect their contents. It was hard to tell if things were missing.
Running a hand over Clark's desk, her fingers paused on his father's watch; something she hadn't seen him without since the day he first put it on. She turned swiftly and looked closer at the room. Something was off, wrong, and she couldn't quite place it.
Chloe pulled out her cell phone and tried Clark's number for what felt like the hundredth time in the week since she'd seen him last. She jumped slightly when a ringing emanated from the mess of sheets and blanket on Clark's bed. She reached forward, spread her hands along the material until she found the device. It only took a moment to flip through the call history and realize that Clark hadn't answered his phone in six days, that he hadn't made any outgoing calls in that time either.
Tossing the phone back onto the bed, Chloe moved to turn away when a flash of rusty brown caught her eyes, standing out against the pale blue sheets like a beacon. Sitting down, she reached out and scratched lightly at the stain before leaning down and inhaling the scent of Clark from the bed and the underlying metallic tint of blood. Dried blood in Clark's bed.
Just a small spot, she told herself, trying to calm the panic that attempted to take over her rationality. It worked until she pulled the sheets back and found a much larger, darker stain. Running a foot across and almost twice as long. Chloe felt her heart jump into her throat.
"Clark." Her cell phone was back in her hand and her fingers pressing the speed dial for Lana's number before she stopped and shook her head. Couldn't call Lana; Lana was dead. Her fingers stuttered and she tried again before a sob choked her. Can't call Lex, she told her fingers. Can't call Lex, because Lex is in jail. "Oh, God."
Finally she fumbled her way through her address book and stood to pace nervously beside Clark's bed - his bloodstained bed, her mind whispered – while the phone rang on the other end.
"Hello?"
"Oh, God, oh thank God."
"Chloe?"
"Clark's missing. There's blood in his bed."
Silence on the other end of the line gave Chloe a chance to wonder how her voice seemed so steady.
"I'm in Mexico. I'll be there as soon as possible. Get out of the house, find somewhere safe, somewhere public."
"I don't think there's anyone here. I think it's been days since anyone's been here." Whisper soft and now there was a tremble in her voice.
"Doesn't matter. Go somewhere safe, somewhere public. Wait for me there."
"The Talon. I'll be at the Talon."
"Good." The line disconnected and Chloe stared at Clark's bed a moment longer before forcing herself to her feet, struggling against the threat of tears rising in her eyes and knowing that if she started crying now, she'd be a wreck when help arrived.
Chloe moved through the hallway to the stairs, taking the front door this time to avoid the smell in the kitchen. Suddenly all the signs she'd ignored when she drove up were there. Mrs. Kent's failing garden, slightly overgrown grass in the normally pristine yard, the disarray of windblown hay resting just inside the barn doors, and a forgotten blanket crumpled over a nearby fence.
She climbed into her car and drove towards the Talon. She ordered coffee and sat at a table by the stairs up to the apartment. She could go up, she knew, but he'd said stay somewhere public. Down here was public.
She would nurse her coffee and others after it until help came. She would make herself not think about the rusty stains in Clark's bed, or the rotten food and neglected property. Chloe would sit and wait for help where normally she would jump into action almost without thinking first. This was different, though. This was Clark.