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.
Clark wished he'd told his parents how much he loved them before leaving tonight.
It wasn't to say that he had given up and was prepared to die, but the possibility existed quite strongly and should things go south he wished he could go knowing he'd told them he loved them at least one more time. The pain was terrible, made him want to quit, but he wouldn't, couldn't.
Pete's gaze met his once more, his best male friend silent yet his eyes saying much as to just how much pain he was going through. And yet Pete was admirably enough not showing physically the pain, the boy apparently concentrating on studying the symbols the almost black dirt was poured in. Dark eyes never looked away from the symbols at his feet, his eyes narrowed, his fists clenched tightly, the strain obvious in the tight muscles in his arms that he was trying to do something with his magic and even though it wasn't working he wasn't stopping. Wasn't giving up.
It gave Clark strength and courage, nodding to himself, refusing to give in either.
Lana looked like she was trying to stall, constantly trying to engage their captors in conversation yet not yielding any positive results. "Why won't you at least show us what you look like? If we're going to die what does it matter if we see your faces?"
The man, the one Clark was almost sure was the leader, finally stepped forwards, motioning to his men.
This was it.
It was beginning.
The cornstalks began to ripple as one as the wind picked up, lightening and thunder clashing unexpectedly above.
The leader looked around him. "The others have come."
Clark's eyes widened as he looked around.
Suddenly lightning began raining down on them, the ground exploding on impact, sending dirt flying everywhere in large quantities, somewhat blinding. Everywhere the lightning rained down viciously, the storm growing intensely as rain began to pour, and yet above the crosses no rain happened nor did the lightning come close. At first Clark thought it was the surprising fact that those three had such incredible control over what they were doing, but when the dirt around the crosses began to glow he realized that not only didn't it let those within use magic, but it didn't allow anything magical cross it either. And as the deluge and lightning poured down all around them, Clark couldn't help but feel relieved for those symbols around them.
One of the hooded men screamed as a lightning bolt seared him, the scent of burning flesh permeating the air.
There was panic and chaos in the other hooded men…but that one…the leader…he was horribly calm, merely looked around him expectantly.
Suddenly Whitney appeared from the cornfields behind one of the men and yanked the unsuspecting man back into the corn, the loud thundering covering up the sound of his cries.
Sensing movement in the flashes lightning, Clark turned his head to see Greg emerge crouched from the cornfield behind the crosses and stare down at the glowing symbols, half-hidden in the mayhem by Pete's cross. His eyes were narrowed, staring at them and at the invisible shield around the crosses keeping the rain out. He picked up a twig, holding it tightly until it began glowing, and threw it at the barrier, the twig exploding immediately on impact.
The hell was he supposed to do now?
They had not been prepared for this sort of thing…and he doubted that Chloe could keep up the lightning storm much longer on her own, much less indefinitely. To be truthful they hadn't been sure that she'd actually be able to do it, and while Greg was impressed and knew that Whitney was as well, he knew that this was a lot to ask from a girl who was still so new to the craft. She was burning power and energy quickly. This was supposed to be a quick in and out with Whitney taking out the hooded guys who were distracted by the shower of lightning, while Greg snuck in and got the others free, but things were starting to go south fast.
Whitney leapt out of the cornfields and grabbed another of the men as the earth erupted all around them by the falling electricity, sending the hooded one flying into the cornfield before disappearing after him once more.
A lightning bolt hit the invisible bubble, and for a split second Greg could see a mist escaping Pete's hands.
Narrowing his eyes, Greg stood. He looked around the destruction, unable to see any of the hooded men before gazing down at his already scarred, sensitive hands.
This was going to hurt like fuck.
Steeling his reserve, Greg took in a deep breath before ushering out a battle cry as he slammed his palms against the barrier. Immediately horribly painful electricity surged within him, the magic crackling dangerously at his palms as he closed his eyes tightly, bowing his head against the pain. "Like fading mist in the evening air, evaporate." He cried out as more electricity surged harder into him, fighting his spell, but he continued on whispering. "Like fading mist in the evening air, evaporate!"
He was driven to his knees by the jolt of pure white electricity into his body, nearly frying his bones.
Greg forced his eyes open, seeing through the invisible barrier to Whitney, who was on the other side, hands flat against it, eyes closed against the pain as his hands crackled with magic combatting whatever made this barrier.
Above, a little hole formed, betrayed by the fact that some of the rain was getting inside, raining down on those inside, a lightning bolt hitting the ground in front of Lana's cross.
Remember what he'd seen before, Greg's eyes went to Pete's fists, finding them glowing. That slate-colored haze seemed to form a mist that clung to Pete's hands, crawling up his arms before enveloping the rope keeping him bound. The mist entered each and every fiber, the whole thing visibly freezing until finally exploding into hundreds of pieces, dropping Pete hard to the ground.
Grunting, Pete groaned as he yanked a necklace with a green pendant off of his neck and threw it as far away from him as possible. He slowly stumbled to his feet before reaching Lana's cross and pressing his hands onto the wood, ice beginning to crawl from him towards her binds as well. The freezing mist curled around the rope, and the sound of each strand freezing was surprisingly loud. Pete's eyes narrowed on those binds, before yanking his hands away from the cross while closing his fist, whispering something.
Lana screamed as the ropes broke and she fell through the air.
Pete caught her, taking most of the blow as they both tumbled to the ground.
"Are you okay?" Lana stared down at him in worry, straddling him.
He nodded with a flinch as he reached up and yanked the necklace off of her, breaking the chain. "Help Clark."
Pushing off, Lana hurried to Clark's cross.
Pete grunted as he got up and threw her necklace away as well before limping towards the barrier. Taking in a deep breath Pete pressed his hands flat against the surface as he joined in with Whitney and Greg. "…in the evening air, evaporate!"
Clark collapsed to the ground, barely missing falling on Lana, who leapt out of the way just in time.
Lightning and rain mingled, dancing within the barrier, which flickered visibly when Lana joined in the chant, pressing her hands against it, joined quickly by Clark.
One would have thought that with five witches using their powers in unison to bring it down that the pain of the barrier would have diminished, and yet it was the opposite. Instead the pain had increased tenfold, driving more than a couple of them to their knees, and while a part of Greg was begging him to let go of it another part of him snarled at the very thought, refusing to give in and be defeated. It pushed him farther on, and without removing his hands from the barrier he somehow managed to push himself back up onto his feet and off of his knees. "EVAPORATE!"
A bolt of lightning raced towards him, and Greg's eyes widened in horror at it, realizing that Chloe was losing control, the lightning scattering everywhere. He closed his eyes, refusing to move out of the way, to remove his hands.
The lightning hit, an explosion rocking the earth beneath him as behind someone screamed.
Eyes flying open, Greg turned to see one of the hooded men's body on the ground behind him, a knife in his hand, his body steaming from where the lightning bolt had fried him.
The barrier wobbled beneath the witch's hands, drawing his attention back to it, and Greg grunted as it continued to give a desperate battle even though it was visibly starting to crack, weak spots appearing all over it. They were almost there, they almost had it, but it wasn't enough. They needed more.
Suddenly two hands slammed onto the barrier next to his, and Greg turned his gaze to see a terribly pale Chloe next to him, her hands shaking just as visibly as the barrier. She looked barely conscious as her lips moved slowly in the words he couldn't make out but knew she had to be chanting.
The barrier became more visible, electric pearl in color, a bubble about to pop and yet not quite.
Greg reached out and placed his burnt, agonizingly painful hand on top of hers against the barrier, pressing down hard.
Chloe looked up at him at the contact, and suddenly lightning rained down and struck the barrier, causing it to explode, the force sending their bodies flying.
As the explosion of magic and power lit up the sky as if a nuclear bomb had just been let off, the white wolf sat safely from the hilltop overlooking the field. The remaining of the hooded ones was long gone, having slipped into the woods and escaped while the battle of the unbound circle with the barrier raged. The fact that he hadn't ever tried to actually confront those kids himself proved that this had been a scouting mission, reconnaissance, and now he vanished with the information he needed.
This circle was strong.
The wolf watched as below, the teenagers lay on the ground, unconscious from the blow-from the magnitude-of the magic that'd erupted and hit them.
The ground heaved, suffering from the magical upheaval, and the wolf could feel it's cries before the earth opened up. It almost swallowed one, the blonde, but somehow even unconscious she managed to balance on the precipice.
Standing as the teens began to awaken, the wolf turned and raced away, knowing that those in town would have seen that explosion, and would be on their way.
"She's fine Clark." Pete tried assuring his friend as they congregated in the Talon, having all piled into Whitney's waiting truck and having made it to Smallville through the backroads. They knew that the explosion would attract the authorities, and they also knew that it was in their best interest that they weren't tied into whatever happened in there. It was why no one had said a word when Greg had used his last bit of energy with Lana to create a fire behind them ("Air around us, give life to fire"). It would hopefully hide the bodies and any evidence of them ever being there.
They weren't sure how they were going to explain the body at Greg's…and hoped no one tied them into the two bodies on the highway leading away from Smallville.
"She used a tremendous amount of magic tonight." Lana agreed, giving the stairways leading to the upstairs apartment a little worried look. "More than the rest of us…and we're all barely able to keep awake as it is."
"Her pulse is strong. She's just sleeping." Whitney declared from where he was bandaging Greg's hands after putting some sort of mud and herbs poultice on it, the group catching up on what had happened to each other up until their escape. "Sleep is the body's way of healing-she mightn't wake up till tomorrow."
"How do we explain that to her dad?" Clark wanted to know, pacing. "How do we explain any of this? Whitney-you ran out after the guy and your mom called the police-and Greg you killed the guy and your mom called the police! They're going to be looking for you!" He groaned as he ran his fingers through his hair. "I can get away with my crash-I-I can say I just called someone to pick me up."
"Me." Whitney declared. "I'll say I went to pick you up. That'll be my alibi."
"Well, I'm screwed then." Greg chuckled darkly, leaning hard against the sofa. "I have no alibi except my mom-who wants to strangle me on her better days."
"It's been taken care of." A voice declared from the door, causing them to turn in shock to see Nell there.
"Aunt Nell!" Lana gasped, standing and running to her, hugging her tightly.
"There there darling." Nell hugged her close, eyes on the others congregated. "Chloe?"
"Upstairs." Clark motioned with his head. "She's sleeping. Exhausted."
"She's the least trained of you all, it's not surprising this would have taken so much out of her." Nell declared with a nod.
"How do you know what happened?" Lana pulled away, wiping at her eyes.
"Because I was tipped off." Nell frowned. "I just didn't think it would happen tonight. Talk about last minute."
"What are you talking about?" Greg stood, eyes narrowed. "Why would the Witch-Hunters tip you off?"
"Oh honey." Nell shook her head with a sigh. "Those weren't Witch-Hunters."
A deep silence fell over them.
"What?" Pete stood rapidly. "If they weren't the Witch-Hunters then who the hell were they and why did they try to kill us?"
Lana hugged herself tightly, backing away. "Aunt Nell?"
"I don't remember if I have told you this, but while there are many circles in this world, our circle is closely tied to two others-all of us direct descendants of the surviving witch families of the Salem Burning Times." Nell declared.
Whitney frowned. "What does this have to do with anything?"
"The two other circles have had-similar happenings." Nell cleared her throat. "According to my source, one of them was hit by the Witch-Hunters on Halloween and yet managed to survive the attack somehow-and according to another source, the other was hit as well, but like tonight, it wasn't by the Witch-Hunters. The other circles that I know of haven't been hit. Just our three."
"What are you saying?" Clark stepped closer.
"What's so special about our three circles?" Greg narrowed his eyes. "It's got to be more than the fact that we're descendants of the Salem Witches."
"Each of the three circles contains some of the most powerful families." Nell replied, leading Lana back towards the group. "Word is that something happened during the Witch-Hunter's attack against the Chance Harbor circle that has caught someone else's attention, and the hits on our circle and the other were made to mimic Witch-Hunter attacks. It seems that whoever is behind this is searching for something, but no one is sure what." Nell licked her lips. "Was there a survivor from your attackers?"
The group nodded.
She sighed, sitting down on the sofa. "Then whoever was behind this already has whatever it is he or she wanted."