Title: The New Circle
Fandoms: Smallville/Secret Circle
Characters: Chloe Sullivan, Clark Kent, Pete Ross, Lana Lang, Whitney Fordman, Greg Arkin, Nell Potter, John Blackwell, Gabe Sullivan, Lex Luthor, Davis Bloome, Jason Teague, Tess Mercer, Oliver Queen, Patricia Swan...
Disclaimer: Don't own
Summary: Chloe Sullivan had a normal-ish life before the circle and John Blackwell turned her life upside down and gave new meaning to the unexplained weirdness that goes on in Smallville. Now life's a witch, she's a part of a circle she's not too sure she wants to be bound to, and not only do they have to worry about Witch-Hunters, but unknowingly to them another circle is on the hunt too.
A/N: Timeline-wise it is side-by-side with events in Secret Circle. It is around Season One of Smallville...with alterations of course. And Lex Luthor has not arrived in Smallville up until this point in the story.
Lana Lang now worked in the Beanery, which meant that the Drones hung out there as well, and Chloe could no longer have coffee in peace.
Still, she wouldn't allow them to take her coffee and love of it from her, so she refused to stop going there. It was why she found herself at the Beanery drinking coffee and going over the footage of the woods with her earphones on, wondering if she could hear what they were saying better. Sadly there were too many night birds calling and crickets singing and breeze...breezing...and it made full understanding of what the robed people had been saying impossible. She had to close her eyes and listen intently over and over again to even get the fact that they'd said "firstborn" sometime during the conversation, which she hadn't picked up while they'd been talking.
They seemed scared, and when weird, creepy robed people congregating in dark woods were scared...well...Chloe felt it was worth being wary as well.
"Hey!" A peppy voice announced to her right.
Chloe closed her eyes tighter as she tried to listen to the recording once more.
Sighing, realizing that she was being spoken to, Chloe turned the screen of her camera away and pulled out an earphone to look up at a smiling Lana Lang. "Hey."
Lana didn't seem at all deterred by the distinct lack of enthusiasm in Chloe's greeting. "My shift's ending in a couple of minutes and we were wondering if you'd like to come and sit at our table. You look really lonely here by yourself."
Oh, wow, were they shoving her loneliness in her face now?
Had it spiraled to that degree?
Plastering a fake smile on her face, Chloe shook her head, refusing to let this psychological bullying work on her. "Thanks, but I'm busy working so I'm really not lonely."
"Oh." Lana's smile melted before returning brightly. "What'cha working on? The newest front page news of the Torch?"
What did she have to do to be left alone?
"Something like that." She nodded, fake smile still on her face. "So, thanks for the offer, but I'm not interested." Plopping the earphones back in her ears, hearing someone whisper to someone else about how much of a bitch she'd just been to Lana, Chloe hardened herself and put the camera to the side, pulling out her laptop from her bag.
Bringing up Google, she typed in "Balcoin", which was the only word she really hadn't recognized.
Apparently, Google didn't know what a "Balcoin" was either...since for the first time ever her search brought up 0 results.
Annoyed and somewhat intimidated by the realization that Google wasn't all-knowing, Chloe typed in "Smallville" "hooded cloak" "woods" and "secret meetings". The first couple of sites were promoting Smallville, the next was promoting costumes for role players, and then she found an article from the Smallville Ledger. It was dated way back when, and was written by a Gregory Jenkins, talking about strange happenings in the town. There were said to be strangers who congregated in the woods, wearing hooded masks, and apparently while they creeped the bejeezus out of the settlers no one dared try to apprehend them or at least find out who they were and what they were doing.
There were also rumors of witchcraft going on in the town, and many people were saying that they were the witches who were meeting in the woods. People had been cited as seeing things that could only be "works of the devil" and distrust was brewing in the multitude, causing people to fear that Smallville would become the "new" Salem.
Obviously nothing had come of this since there were no reports of witch burnings (or hangings) in Smallville, and in the end this was of no use to her, although quite fascinating.
She'd have to look into this more when she had more time to herself.
As it was, it was definitely going onto her Wall of Weird.
Clearing her Google search, Chloe typed in "Smallville", "Balcoin", "lineage" and "bloodline", all words which had stuck to her during the hissed conversation between the group.
She pressed "enter".
Her computer crashed.
It friggin crashed!
Eyes wide in shock, Chloe just stared at it in horror.
What the hell?
A message popped up on her screen telling her that she'd just downloaded a mega-virus that'd just destroyed her whole system.
Closing her computer screen, Chloe put the laptop away, her shock probably the only thing keeping her from screaming in frustration at this unexpected grief.
What the hell was a Balcoin that even her friggin computer was scared of it?
"You know, Lana was being nice, you didn't have to be such a bitch to her." Whitney Fordman announced as he slid into the seat opposite hers, eyebrow raised.
Oh dear god.
She couldn't deal with this right now!
"Walk away Fordman." She had to figure out how exactly to ask her father for a new computer when this one had been last year's birthday present.
"What's wrong with you?" He kept pushing, eyeing her oddly. "There's a reason why Kent and Ross stopped being your friends you know. Ever wondered if it was because of your rotten attitude?"
Closing the screen of her camera, Chloe threw down enough money to cover her bill and grabbed her bag, sliding out of the seat. She was barely keeping onto her angry tears and there was no way that she was going to let an asshole like Whitney Fordman see them. The blonde tore out of the Beanery and walked to the dark back parking lot, storming towards her car.
"Hey! I wasn't finished with you!" Whitney yelled from behind her, footsteps rapid as he caught up with her under the flickering light of a dim overhead light post, grabbing her arm and swinging her around to face him. "I think you owe Lana an apology."
"I think you need another blow to the nuts." She snapped, hating the fact that she could feel her control over her emotions slipping as she tugged against him in vain. "Let me go!"
"No." He replied, giving her a shake. "I'm sick and tired of this."
"So am I!" She snapped, trying to kick at his shin but he must have seen it coming because Whitney twirled her around and held her tightly against him with her back to his chest, his hands around her keeping her hands pinned to her own chest.
"Getting angry yet?" He whispered in her ear.
She snarled. "Let me go!"
"That's enough Whitney!" Clark yelled as he circled around the back of the Beanery, coming towards him. "It's just bullying now! Leave her alone!"
"I'm doing what no one else has the balls to do, Kent." Whitney gave her a yank, hurting her slightly. "Unless you forgot, this was supposed to be your job but you chickened out of it."
"Look man, we'll figure out how to do it another way." Clark was holding his arm out towards Whitney as he slowly came towards them. "Just let go of her. This isn't how things are supposed to go."
"Fine." Whitney grumbled. "One last try and then I give up."
Chloe didn't understand what the hell they were talking about, and she was far from prepared to be spun around in Whitney's arms and then for his lips to press against hers in a deep kiss.
Her eyes widened as shock filled her system, adrenaline racing through her body as his lips moved against hers.
Lana, Pete and Greg arrived and stopped, eyes wide at what they were seeing.
Chloe squeaked into the kiss and slapped at Whitney's chest, struggling to get away.
He tightened his hold against her body, pressing her harder against him...and this was the closest she'd ever been to another man...as he deepened the kiss.
The lights in the parking lot began to flicker viciously before exploding everywhere in a shower of electricity.
One of Whitney's hands lowered to her lower back, his fingers flexing and contracting before he pulled her closer, and the other raising to slip into her hair.
Something was filling her body, and Chloe found herself grabbing onto Whitney's shirt to keep from collapsing at the savageness of the thing inside of her. Her eyes fluttered closed and even behind closed eyelids she could see something sparking inside of her before it finally exploded.
A wave of something surged forth from within her, and the buildings around them went black.
Heat filled her, she felt like she was on fire, and with a ragged cry she pushed away from Whitney, nearly falling to the ground as she found her legs wobbly.
Shock had his eyes wide as he stared at her, one hand going to his lips.
"Chloe?" Clark squeaked, eyes wide, face red.
Chloe looked at him...passed him at the shocked looks on Pete, Lana and Greg's faces (although Greg seemed more amused than surprised)...and then back to Whitney...who was still brushing his thumb against his lips.
She did the only thing that seemed sensible at the time.
She punched him.
"The fuck?" Whitney yelped, cradling his bruised jaw. "Why did you do that for?"
Chloe cried, bent over, shaking her throbbing fist. "Your face is made out of steel!"
"Am I the only one who saw that coming?" Greg wanted to know, leaning against the wall, smirking in amusement.
"The kiss or the punch?" Pete whispered, eyes still wide.
Lana groaned, bringing a hand to her face as she sighed. "You went too far Whitney."
"Getting her angry was not working." Whitney defended, wincing, pressing his hand to his bruised jaw.
"Are you okay?" Clark came up to Chloe, who was still shaking her throbbing hand. "We might need to get you some ice for that."
"Is anyone worried about me?" Whitney wanted to know.
"Not really." Greg replied with a smirk.
"Bite me, Arkin." Whitney snapped at him.
"You are all kinds of frisky tonight, aren't you Fordman?" Greg snickered.
Whitney flipped him off.
"Don't touch me." Chloe snapped at Clark, jerking away from him, taking out her anger and pain on him.
Hurt and sadness filled Clark's face as he looked at her yet respected her need for distance.
"Please, don't be mad at Clark and Pete," Lana came towards, stopping next to Clark and placing her hand on his shoulder. "The only reason things have been the way they have is because Aunt Nell said you had to find out when yours were awaken, and we all knew that with your intrepid reporter instincts you'd figure out before time and you'd probably freak out and that would make you bury them so deep they probably would never awaken."
Chloe looked at the cheerleader in utter confusion. "What are you talking about?"
"You mean you don't realize it Chlo?" Pete asked, coming closer, shocked.
"Realize what?" She cradled her fist to her chest, looking between them in wary confusion.
"This-all this-was your doing." Pete threw his hands out around him...as if that was supposed to mean something.
"I have to admit it, I'm jealous." Greg announced as he finally joined them, folding his arms over his chest. "This was probably the strongest awakening so far...the disgust you felt for Fordman's kiss must have been intense."
"Go jump off a bridge." Whitney grumbled.
"Been there. Done that." Greg grinned, obviously enjoying this whole situation way too much.
And while seeing people make fun of Whitney Fordman would usually be a good night for her, Chloe's computer was dead, her hand probably broken, and her patience running thin.
Also, Whitney Fordman had kissed her.
She was about to freak out.
"What is all my doing?" Chloe was glad for the moonlight, because it let her see the shock on their faces.
"The blackout?" Lana tried harder. "When each of us "awoke" we had a surge ripple out of us which affected our surroundings somehow. Yours knocked out the electricity in probably the whole block."
They all stared at the blonde, expectantly.
"Oh god." Chloe suddenly realized what was going on here. "You're all on drugs."
"You've got to be kidding me." Whitney rolled his eyes, palming his face with a sigh.
"Chloe, we've all gone through denial about this, but you've been awoken now and we're here for you." Lana gave her a kind smile. "We're family now."
Were they serious?
"Look, I just want to go home and soak my hand in a bucket of ice water, okay?" Chloe started backing away towards her car.
"You realize she really thinks we're all high right now, right?" Greg asked no one in particular, not at all insulted, seeming very much amused with how this was going.
"Chlo..." Pete took a step towards her. "Let us explain things to you."
"Fine." She leaned with her back against the car, keeping them all in her sight at all times. "According to you what exactly happened when Whitney slobbered all over me-."
"Hey!" Whitney glared at her.
"-and why exactly have all of you had it happen to you?" She raised an eyebrow at them. "Why would you be my family?"
Lana took in a deep breath and then let it out, preparing herself. "It's because we're all connected."
"By what?" Chloe prompted.
"Well, you see, it goes really far back..." Lana began.
Greg groaned, palming his face. "We're witches."
Lana sent him a frown. "We agreed we'd ease her into this!"
"She's about to bolt any second now." Greg pointed out. "It's best that she gets the quick and dirty version before she leaves in the middle of your history lesson."
"He's got a point." Pete admitted. "When you told me I was pretty much zoned out throughout most of it. The "you're a witch" part though? That caught my attention."
Okay, so this was a cultic thing.
She wanted nothing to do with it.
"Look, I won't tell anyone about your little...coven..." Chloe reached for her keys and unlocked her car door. "But I really need to go home before my father arrives and finds out I'm out. So...thanks for the offer...I think...but I'm not interested in any initiations or anything. But thanks anyway."
Sliding into her car, Chloe locked the door immediately and started the engine...getting the hell out of there.
Her bath was longer and the water hotter than usual as Chloe tried to clean herself of all the anger, resentment, confusion, and reluctant arousal. It burned her that Whitney's kiss had felt really good. It burned her that Lana and the Drones were suddenly associating with her. It burned her that they wanted her to become yet another Drone. It burned her that they thought she was stupid enough to have lived for sixteen years as a witch and not having known of it herself.
It burned her that a part of her wanted to believe it...them.
The lure of having Clark and Pete back was so tempting...and dammit, who would have thought that annoying quarterback was actually a really good kisser on top of everything else?
Finally she emerged from the shower and pulled on her underwear and huge, old t-shirt. She gazed at her reflection in the fog-covered mirror, telling herself to be strong, to not give into cultic brainwashing.
Everyone wanted to believe they were special.
Didn't mean they were.
Shaking her head at her sad reflection, Chloe emerged from the bathroom...and nearly screamed when she realized there was someone in her room. It was only the fact that she recognized that large, looming figure that kept her from screaming rape and murder.
He turned at the sound of her voice, sheepish. "Uhm, hi."
"What are you doing here?" She frowned as she stormed into her room. "And how did you get in? I made sure this place was locked tighter than Fort Knox when I came back."
"I noticed." He nodded, unable to look at her, rubbing the back of his head. "I, uhh..." he cleared his throat, clearly awkward. "Pete's planning on ambushing you at school tomorrow to talk, and Lana thinks we should all give you time to adjust...but I need to talk to you now before things become worse between us."
"Why?" She folded her arms over her chest. "You haven't felt that lately."
He flinched. "I have."
"Yeah, I can see that." She went to her bed and sat down on it, shaking her head.
"I really have. Chloe, you're my best friend. I've missed you so much." Clark went to sit down next to her, a little uneasy at being on the bed with her and yet obviously quite determined. "Nell said that we couldn't let those who weren't part of the circle yet know, it's imperative that our powers remain secret. Smallville nearly became another Burning Town, and even though people these days are more understanding when it comes to witchcraft it's safer for us to keep our craft secret. There's people out there who still hunt witches, the real ones."
Chloe frowned as she turned towards him, sitting Indian Style. "Witch Hunters?"
"Yeah." Clark nodded. "They're the ones who were behind the Salem burnings, and they're still out there today."
"You can't really expect me to believe this..."
"Chloe, you believe in Bigfoot and the Loch Ness Monster and the Jersey Devil and..."
"Not witches." She made a face, reaching up to pull a blonde strand of hair out of her face.
Clark's gaze went to her hand. "Does it still hurt?"
"A little, but not much anymore." Chloe shrugged, gazing at the bruised knuckles.
Clark took in a deep breath before reaching out his hands palms up.
Chloe's eyes widened and she could feel her cheeks burning slightly as she looked at the hands in question before finally resting her own in them.
Clark's hands closed over hers, his gaze on them. "You won't believe me until you see magic, right?"
"That would be a start..." she agreed, eyeing him warily.
"Okay, I want you to pick something in this room..anything."
"Okay...I'll play." Chloe looked around her room before deciding. "The string of butterflies dad gave me."
Clark's gaze went to the string of colorful butterflies spiraling down from the ceiling next to Chloe's desktop computer. "Perfect." He grinned before turning his baby blues on her. "Now I want you to close your eyes and repeat after me. 'Fabric wings, take flight'."
"Fabric wings take flight?" Chloe raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. "Are you serious? No latin? No rhymes? Just...that?"
He raised an eyebrow at her.
"Fine." Closing her eyes, Chloe felt somewhat of a fool as she took in a breath before beginning. "Fabric wings, take flight."
Clark joined in with her on the second one.
"Fabric wings, take flight."
Something began to spark within her.
"Fabric wings, take flight."
It was getting hotter.
"Fabric wings, take flight."
A shiver ran down her spine.
"Fabric wings, take flight."
She was just about to ask him how much longer when Clark squeezed her hands.
Slowly opening her eyes, Chloe didn't see anything at first, and then she followed Clark's gaze and a gasp escaped her lips and green orbs widened.
The butterflies were gone from her desk.
Not only that, but they'd somehow managed to separate from each other on the strings and were flying all around them, their movements so realistic it was had to believe that they weren't alive.
Clark grinned brightly, eyeing them with almost the same fascination she did.
Chloe turned to Clark and giggled, unable to believe it.
Clark turned towards her and smiled, his thumbs caressing her hands in his.
That shiver rolled down her spine once more, the heat blooming in her stomach, darkening the color in her cheeks.
Baby blues and sea green were unable to look away.
That connection...that feeling...she'd always had with Clark, deepened.
Clark began to lean forwards, his grip on her hands changing, fingers threading through hers.
Chloe's heart raced, eyes widening.
Suddenly a phone rang, loud, jarring them and causing them to pull their hands back.
The butterflies fell lifelessly to the ground all around them.
Clark cleared his throat and reaching into his pocket, pulling out his phone. "Hey dad..." he flinched. "Yeah, I'll be there." Hanging up Clark stood. "See you tomorrow in school?"
Chloe nodded, watching him climb out of her bedroom window...which must have been the way he'd come in to begin with.
Only when she remembered she was on the second story and there weren't any trees close to her window did she get up and race to her window-to find him no where in sight.
Taking in a deep breath Chloe let it out slowly before turning her back on the window.
Another deep breath.
Gulping, Chloe's gaze went to the fallen butterflies, a sliver of a doubt still playing in the corner of her mind.
"Fabric wings, take flight."
The colorful butterflies rose as if on a gentle breeze, their wings flapping gracefully as they returned to the air, flying around her bed.
"Oh boy." She tightened her grip on the windowsill behind her. "Oh. Boy."
Turning around quickly, she closed the curtains and hurried to bed, going under the covers and leaving the light on as she stared up at the butterflies dancing gracefully on the nonexistent wind above her.