Frozen

Title: Frozen
Rating: R
Fandom: Smallville
Pairing: Twisted Chlavis, Chlollie friendship
Spoilers/Timeline: Future
Disclaimer: I own very little, certainly not these characters. Please don’t sue!
Author’s Notes: It’s dark, even for me. But I figure these are dark days for anyone who used to think this show had potential. Call it cathartic.

--

She stands with her back to him, silhouetted against a sepia-toned sunset. The stained glass lays a halo around her shadow. He doesn’t have to be her best friend to recognize the weight of the world on her shoulders.

He supposes that’s a good thing, since he’s not sure they’re on speaking terms these days.

Oliver Queen has been many things in this life. Playboy, hero, friend, lover – even a murderer. But he’s never felt more like a failure than he does in this moment.

He lost faith and forgot hers. A wiser man would have remembered that he was dealing with Chloe Sullivan, the better, brighter patron saint of lost causes. A stronger man could have protected her from heartbreak.

And a braver man would have faced her sooner.

“How long have you been here?” Her voice is a whisper, raspy from disuse and he imagines more than a few tears in the months since everything came unraveled. When she turns, he can’t contain the gasp.

“I…” He’s lost all his words.

He can see a ghost of a smile drift across her features before it’s gone. The shadows that follow it raise goose bumps on his skin. Even after years of knowing Clark Kent, he’s never seen anything so utterly alien as the emptiness in her eyes. It’s everything Chloe has never been, and it doesn’t fade.

She steps across the makeshift living room with a grace he’s seen few manage in her condition. It only amplifies his uneasiness.

Once she’s standing before him, hands cradling a belly impossibly swollen for the three months since he saw her last, the ghost of Chloe Sullivan regards him with cool distain.

“I said, how long have you been here?”

He blinks. “Not long enough.”

She doesn’t smile.

“What happened, Chloe?”

“I thought everyone left me.” She looks down and smoothes the black linen over her belly before looking back up. “I was wrong.”

“How did… How long have you…”

She nods absently, as though his question was perfectly clear. “I tried. That night I tried. But every time, I failed. Every time, I came back.”

He can only tilt his head, more confused than ever.

“I slit my wrists. I hung myself from the rafters. I even jumped off the roof. Nothing worked, so I threw together a makeshift guillotine.” Her gaze shifts toward the small kitchen. “I look at the results every now and then to remind myself.”

He swallows. “Remind yourself of what?”

Her gaze doesn’t leave the kitchen, and the smile she wears turns his stomach. “That Chloe Sullivan is dead.” She looks back at him. “I can show you if you want.”

“No, I...” He wants to vomit. He wants to run. He definitely doesn’t want to go into that room, with its gleaming surfaces and ominous-looking side-by-side. “That’s okay.”

“At first, I thought it was my ‘gift’. That I would never be free. Then I felt them.” She rubs her belly, and for the first time he sees what looks like genuine affection.

“Them?”

“Mm…” She nods. “He took what he wanted, and it turns out he left me with a consolation prize – Armageddon. Davis couldn’t die, so they can’t. When they’re born, I’ll be free. It shouldn’t be long now.”

She finishes in a reverent whisper. There’s no mistaking the gleam in her eyes.

“You should leave now, Oliver.” She advances and he steps back without thinking. “Find Clark and see if his father has any new ways to send people to the phantom zone. You’re going to need it.”

His horror is complete.

Chloe Sullivan has always been a trusted ally. He’ll follow her advice this time.

--Finis--