Title: The New CircleFandoms: Smallville/Secret CircleCharacters: 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...Rating: TDisclaimer: Don't ownSummary: 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.Wanna thank tenshinrtaiga for betaing!
A part of Chloe wanted to stay home and not go to school and she was sure that her father (he was her father, damn it!) wouldn't have said anything if she had, but Chloe would have had to spend the day with Moira and she couldn't handle that. Not for right now, at least. And so she was outside waiting for Whitney when he pulled up in his truck, not seeming at all surprised to see her waiting for him for the first time. He just leaned over and opened the door for her, not mentioning it as she slid in and closed it, the Quarterback pulling out of the Sullivan's driveway and into the traffic.
"People are already talking about her being back," Whitney mumbled as he changed gear, tapping his fingers against the steering wheel. "They saw her and Gabe last night and news is flying over town."
Chloe flinched, slouching in her seat. "I'm going to have to think of something to tell Van. He knows that she can shift into a wolf... and that she attacked me."
"I wish he didn't," Whitney admitted tersely. "He's a loose canon."
"He's fine," Chloe defended.
"Greg said he wanted to hunt the thing." Whitney sent her a look. "He's apparently a good shot and has a stash of weapons. Excuse me for not feeling all too safe with him, all things considering."
"He warned me about her – if it wasn't for him, I wouldn't know what she was or that she and Nell were working together." Chloe frowned, glaring at Whitney. "I trust him."
"Well I don't," Whitney countered.
"Tough," she grumbled before gasping, bringing her hand to her chest as power speared through her like the outer waves of a ripple. "Stop."
"What happened?" Whitney quickly pulled off of the road and into the parking lot of Smallville's only motel. "What's going on?"
"I don't know." Chloe's gaze traced the source of the hectic, terrified, familiar power towards at the rooms. "You don't feel that?"
"Feel what?" he stressed, obviously not feeling it.
"Something's not right," she whispered, undoing her belt buckle and opening the door in time for one of the motel doors to fly open and a beautiful brunette to stumble out, pale and wide-eyed.
"HELP!" the brunette yelled. "Someone, please help!"
Chloe was already racing towards the girl, eyes wide. "What's wrong?"
"It's my boyfriend, he-!" The girl looked up at her and then froze, her eyes widening in horror and shock. "It can't be."
Whitney was by Chloe's side in a second before dashing inside of the room the girl had come out from.
"What happened?" Chloe wondered why this girl looked so familiar somehow; why she felt familiar, when Chloe knew that she'd never seen her before. "Are you hurt?"
"You," the brunette whispered, bringing her hand to her forehead before narrowing her eyes on Chloe. "Is this your doing? Did you do this to him?"
"What?" Chloe couldn't have been more shocked if she'd been slapped. "The hell are you talking about?"
"Chloe!" Whitney yelled from inside.
Giving the near hysterical girl one last look, Chloe rushed into the room, finding a blonde boy on the ground, pale as death, trembling.
Whitney leaned over him. "His pupils are dilated and he's paralyzed... but trembling... and his heartbeat is slowing." He looked up when the other girl entered the room. "Before this happened, was he ill?"
"No, he – he just said he was dizzy!" she stammered.
Whitney narrowed his eyes as he pulled out his cell phone, dialing 911.
Chloe knelt down by the guy, eyes narrowed at his outstretched hand which seemed almost to point under the bed. She leaned down and stared under the darkness there before noticing a vial. The blonde reached under and strained trying to reach it before her fingers finally curled around the bottle and pulled it out. She brought it to her nose and took a whiff, making a face as she turned her head away from it. "Whitney?"
"Just get here now!" Whitney snapped at the emergency operator before shutting off the phone and turning to Chloe. "What?"
"Smell this. He was pointing to it." She passed it to the Quaterback.
Whitney gave her a look before reaching for the vial and bringing it to his nose, giving it a tentative sniff before his eyes widened. "Oh, you can't be serious!"
"What?" the brunette asked, coming closer. "What is it?"
"A mixture that strongly features conium maculatum," Whitney hissed, giving Chloe the vial back before snarling down at the guy. "Why the hell would you take this?" He stood up, pacing, before turning the brunette. "Did you fucking do this to him?"
"No! I swear!" The girl looked near tears. "I don't even know what you're talking about!"
"Who is GH?" Chloe asked, staring at the engraving on the bottom of the vial.
"Him." She pointed. "Grant Hardy."
"This is his." Chloe stared up at Whitney.
"The fuck would he take this?" Whitney stared down at the boy. "If he has this then he knows that if the ambulance doesn't get to him in time, he's going to die from respiratory failure."
"What is in it?" The brunette drew closer.
"Conium maculatum," Whitney repeated, agitation in his every feature. "Better known as hemlock."
"He has hemlock poisoning?" Chloe whispered in shock. "People still do that?"
"Hemlock poisoning?" The girl dropped to her knees in shock. "What – how–?"
The sound of sirens could be heard approaching in the distance.
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Clark looked around the parking lot as the first bell rang. Greg was obviously skipping today, and while that wasn't a big deal, apparently Whitney and Chloe had decided to do so as well. Neither of their cars were in the parking lot and, given the fact that Whitney didn't seem to think that Chloe should ever drive her car ever again apparently, well, it made more sense lately to just look for Whitney's truck instead of her car.
Resentment and disappointment rose in his throat. The boy had wanted to personally ask Chloe to dinner at his parents' today; had wanted to start doing something to try and salvage what little relationship they had left.
"How does it feel?" someone asked darkly from behind him.
Clark turned to see Tina Greer there, eyeing him with a sneer. "How does what feel?"
"Being replaced," she delivered cruelly before turning and leaving, hugging her books to her chest.
Clark watched her leave, gulping down the bile lodged in his throat. "I'm not being replaced." He turned to look back at the parking lot. "I'm not."
Sigh escaping his lips, Clark lowered his head and trudged slowly towards the school building.