?

Log in

Previous Entry | Next Entry

smallville fic: the third road to hell

 Sorry for my slowness guys. I've been feeling pretty lazy terrible recently. I am so bad, but I am ficcing now. For [info]nonky 's prompt, the amazing- "The fever broke, leaving her muscles like sweaty rags and her skin oily with sweat, except for one overworked bit of her scuffed mouth. "

In an isolated cell with Davis/Doomsday, Chloe gets a deadly viral fever. Doomsday and Davis both revert to their basic instincts. Blood, sex, weird vampiric connotations: all Aidan's fault for looking so hot in hd tonight. (Chloe/Davis.)


Chloe muffled her coughs into a pillow that felt like silk. Five months after Tess had hunted her and Davis down in Edge City, Chloe had almost started trusting her. She didn’t like her and doubted she ever would. Tess had torn Davis from her and pitted him against her best friend. But after Clark rose from the grave, her actions seemed to have bizarre logic.

Davis and Doomsday were still alive, of course. That was her one improvement on Lex. Tess knew she couldn’t kill them. She’d come to them with a proposition and a straight spine. Doomsday’s only cure was isolation behind impenetrable walls. As the only human who could survive him, Chloe would be allowed to stay behind with Davis if she chose. Davis acquiesced quickly, squeezing tightly to her fingers. It was all he wanted besides erasing the blood on their joined hands. He didn’t want to hurt anyone ever again. She leaned hard into his shoulder and sealed the deal with an uneasy feeling in her stomach, one that began to fade when they were locked away.

They were denied no small comforts. Outside the gargantuan cell for Davis’s transformations, there was a bedroom with two comfortable bathrooms, running water and a large bed with 32-threadcount sheets. Chloe wondered how much Tess had read into their relationship and quickly decided she didn’t care. During the duration of their relationship they’d made due with cots, pushed close enough together for only the most awkward overlap of their bodies. This was an upgrade. After a successful removal of all the cameras and bugs, it would be perfect for their use.

There were bars around Davis when he changed. She could hear the beast clattering around on the other side. It knew it was a trap, even if it was the most comfortable of traps-and it would rage. Maybe he had wanted that, but there was some aspect of him that made him endure, smile and even enjoy it-after, towel around him and leaning into her. Often he was too exhausted for much more. With the change, his bones broke and reset, and his spine would snap. His face was bloodied, with his own blood and he was smiling. He’d never been able to lie about that. His body was relaxed and hot against hers when they slept, heartbeat rough on her and she didn’t have to muffle anything at all.

Not until she’d found herself coughing until she dry heaved blood over the toilet. She had been so stupid. It had felt so nice not to have to watch over their shoulders for heroes out to kill or capture him. She’d almost forgotten that everyone had an angle. Tess had learned well, probably had a team on scientists on it all those good weeks... She didn’t know what it was, but she had an hour at most. The virus was easily transferable in their small cell. It had been intended for him. With a wracking shudder, Chloe prayed that Davis wouldn’t get sick too. She couldn’t conceal it. He knew illness like the back of his hand, knew her far better than that.

“She dispersed it through the air.” Davis caught her outside the bathroom, face instantaneously transformed from a little predatory to complete self-recrimination. She didn’t know if her brain was equipped for a decent lie anyway. “It’s my fault.” She mumbled. “I think it was the red hair that fooled me. She should have been bald.”

The joke was lost on Davis. “I dragged you into this, too.”

“Shut up.” Chloe could barely do more than see him with that cloudy glow of lights around him. She was in no mood to argue over who was the most naïve. She needed to close her eyes. Davis knew if she closed them she wouldn’t open them, felt his throat moving to choke him. Not her. Never her.

“Hey, three months on the road and that’s all you come up with? I’m an imbecile. Hey. Look at me. I want you to win this one.”

“I-could never argue with that face.”

“Stay awake for me, Chloe.” Davis hovered over her for hours with his face contorted, wards stuttering and confused like those last days at the Talon. Cool towels were brushing sweat from her face, soaking in the sweat from her nightgown and the sides of her breasts. She felt herself shiver at the ugly cold of it. Warmer skin kept the cool away when the room got cold as ice. He was probably curled around her back, lips tracing heat into her shoulders and arms. She thought she recognized a few words of the Hail Mary.

“It’s not like- this- is my last day on earth.” She muttered, but her voice stumbled like it had been clogged with powder.

When Davis was under stress the Beast’s instincts would try to reassert themselves. He was trying so hard. He was coming apart again, fingers clutched into that old black rosary like they’d used to into strands of her hair. She’d barely noticed giving acquiescence, tugging and fumbling the panties from her legs. Davis felt a weak, devastated puppy-eager to curl up on her and take and take anything that was left of her weary, worn out body. He couldn’t imagine existence that didn’t evolve every semblance of Chloe- living, guiding, breathing. There could be no other reason to exist. No other way to try. The Beast yowled in superiority, an angry shudder inside him that it could fix it, it was stronger. It had formed an attachment to the smell of her, female and damp, not a hurtful thing. Now, Chloe smelled like iron and a sick deathsweetness, a tone that it wanted to strip away with its tongue. They were losing her.

Was this it? Chloe knew what she was offering, and new, selfishly, that she was taking much more. He needed her and she would never be willing to let him heal. She never wanted anyone else but her to save him. He wasn’t supposed to watch her die. She couldn’t make him leave. Her fingers felt like putty, and his were shaking pretty badly. It was better this way, more familiar, and he was still surrounded by the dancing glow of the room. It was almost nightmarish, but the outline of him was real and purposeful. She couldn’t put a finger on it

The room bobbed with his head under the covers, shivered taunt and tight as his mouth licked at her sweaty side savagely. It smelled like something foreign, something bad, something hurting-- on her skin. The female’s fingers reached and twisted into his hair, a foot planted against his back like she was pushing something foreign out. It was childbirth. It was a death struggle. There was poison on her, heated moisture forming to replace it. He planted his head between her legs, mindful of the new roughness to his tongue and the freakish strength in his limbs. There was a familiarity to the ache forming in him. Chloe twisted, limbs tumbling and knocking against his chin--a small feeling inside his steel-coated insides. She tasted better than blood. For once, they felt in harmony.

It was like feeling her insides coated in ash, small fires lighting inside her stomach. The female sank back, momentarily exhausted, breaths kicking him up. His breath was hitching against her hip. Once he told her she’d done more for him than anyone. The thought that she’d leave him, too, ate her up, lips clutching for his scalp like a last breath. “You need to leave now.” She kept telling him, a voice whispery and surprisingly firm. He remembered her everywhere, miles and miles, her smell on him, on their belongings. He needed to stay close, she’d told him. More than anything else. He shook his head.

Davis’s senses were keen; he could smell the death all over their room. He didn’t feel right, skin hardening beyond any human possibility. If she could have seen it would have been going gray. Chloe felt herself tipped to her side by a hard arm. The room stirred, everything else throbbed with a unfulfilled heat. His hands twined around her stomach and she could feel them breaking apart. Maybe, he was pulling away, she thought, shutting down. He was starting to change.

Why hadn’t run back to the cage to change? She was coughing out the virus, spreading it into all his breathing space in the small room. He pressed down against her, cock-lined against the back of her thigh, unmoving. It was as close to a hug as he could give. Maybe he’d determined they’d go down together as long as they could. Chloe scrambled, feebly twisting her wrists against his bigger ones. Tess couldn’t win. Couldn’t get him. He was so much stronger than she was, fingers bunching softly around her and holding tight. It felt like a parody of the sex they’d. Warm and a little too frantic for him to completely undress. Chloe turned her head and spread her legs as much as she could.

He was holding on tight enough to leave bruises. He could understand this. Just connection. Just a little longer. It wouldn’t do either of them any good, but it felt so much safer when they were together. His body reacted like it was supposed to. He was already half inside her. Like back when they were going to make it, but they weren’t now. She could feel the sweat pouring down her face, a bloody taste in the back of her throat. He sank into her and it was better, heat on her insides and teasingly rough between her legs.

Davis was kissing her, mouth warm and open, and lips pressing. He wasn’t really thrusting, just pushing and embracing her like he was afraid to let go. She couldn’t take that, didn’t have that long. Chloe urged against him, snapped her hips, the movement feeling like the rolling of the sea. His fingers molded into her sides, leaving small scratches in the nightgown as he curved her down and began a solid thrust. It was better, not hard enough to hurt, or maybe it was just less than the rest of it.

The muscles in his stomach were bunching tight, sweat slick and he was about to come. It was amazing how the biology of it all worked. She felt her insides tremble, nerves spreading tight, muscles squeezing out an orgasm. It felt almost like this wasn’t going to end, she thought with a whimper. It was going to hurt soon. She couldn’t see anything but she could feel Davis rippling inside her, didn’t want to forget. He froze. He didn’t turn away, a sound coming from his lips between a sob and a groan, hands leaving her skin cold. Chloe turned her head and rested the pounding in it into what she was almost sure were Luthor pillows. He was stopping, why was he stopping?

She was too weak to turn her head to see him anymore, but she could feel him. He was running a hand along his forehead, such a human movement. “Davis. It’s okay.” She whispered, though she was half-sure he could hear her. This was all her fault, didn’t he see? He should hate her.

Davis only punished himself. Sometimes the thing inside him was less than an animal. It only knew how to run from pain, it didn’t know how to save anyone, even her. All his invulnerability was useless, would never be anything more than a torment to him and the only woman he would love. She could have stayed in Smallville. She could have lived with Clark, even Jimmy though the thought twisted his stomach. Nothing he had learned in that hospital mattered if he couldn’t help her now. She shouldn’t have loved him. Davis hurt. The Beast roared its displeasure. She was fading. Davis’s teeth clamped hard on his own wrist, drawing blood until the red in his eyes faded. “I’m not going to let you go.”

Chloe could feel at him blindly, the muscles corded tightly in his shoulders, the stubble on his jaw working against her cheek in a nuzzling pressure. It hurt that he wasn’t hurting her, and she would hurt him. Even now, half himself, rough-half fingers scrambling up to her lips. Nervous heat jangled in her dry throat. She couldn’t sob.

His wrist pressed carefully up against her mouth, oozing thick red blood. She barely remembered swallowing it down, almost gagging, Davis’s hands tipping her head back for more. It roared over her insides like a fire. She began to sweat, sucking it down like a child. She could have thought at any other time, Kryptonian instincts, primitive rite, but there was a rough noise coming from his throat, urging her beyond all control. When she couldn’t drink anymore she just lay there, trying to stay awake. It hurt so much. Chloe pressed her head against his chest, blood-smeared and dazed.

She had to look like some kind of monster. Davis was still awake, looking a little paler, honed in on her face with that dreadful concentration, half-himself, half something other. He touched at the rust ends of her hair, pupils dilated and dark.

Chloe trailed her mouth down his neck, leaving marks. She wasn’t afraid. She didn’t know what she was. It felt like she was burning with the warm wetness of him still in her. They moved over each other for hours. The fever broke, leaving her muscles like sweaty rags and her skin oily with sweat, except for one overworked bit of her scuffed mouth. Chloe saw her reflection in Davis’s eyes and thought maybe some blessings were worth not questioning.

Comments

( 4 comments — Leave a comment )
nonky
Jan. 18th, 2011 10:47 am (UTC)
Blame Party! *dances*
Look at Davis with his desperate and inspired sexual healing! He's all about innovative solutions and just getting the job done, even if Doomsday is the one giving the suggestions.

This though, killed me:He couldn’t imagine existence that didn’t evolve every semblance of Chloe- living, guiding, breathing. There could be no other reason to exist. No other way to try. The Beast yowled in superiority, an angry shudder inside him that it could fix it, it was stronger. It had formed an attachment to the smell of her, female and damp, not a hurtful thing. Now, Chloe smelled like iron and a sick deathsweetness, a tone that it wanted to strip away with its tongue. They were losing her.

Only Davis has the capacity to figure out what Chloe is to him and call it love, but Doomsday loves her, too. And they are both equally sure with Davis' Kryptonian senses that she won't make it through the night. This idea is unbearably angsty, that both Davis and Doomsday would be locked up with a sickening Chloe, unable even to let her go at great cost so she could be saved. That pain at least gives some notion of hope, but if she died in that pretty, silk bed-sheeted prison, the only thing that would happen is Tess might send someone in to take Chloe's body. Those guys wouldn't last very long.

Frankly, a grieving DD would probably dig his way out just to give Chloe a proper burial. Tess is just not good with the longterm planning, if she didn't expect Chloe's death might occur without Davis being killed.

And the smut is fantastic, all horribly brutal in the raw emotions, even while Davis seems barely able to put his hands on Chloe with any pressure, let alone fuck her. She wants to give him a final good memory but it's just too much for either one of them.

YAY! BLAAAAAAAAAAME for me! BLAME! *party*


ladykate63
Jan. 23rd, 2011 01:18 pm (UTC)
Hi there! *waves* Sorry to jump in with stuff from another fandom, but I just wanted to remind you that you were going to join us on the Robin Hood forum. :) If you're not in an RH mood at the moment I totally understand and don't want to be a pest, but if you need a nudge ... well, here it is: The RH forum intros thread. ;) I was thinking of you because we just got another newbie who's also a Xena fan (and one I didn't convert to RH, lol). You're also missing out on some awesome fics.

So... see you there, maybe? :)

vagrantdream
Jan. 24th, 2011 12:12 am (UTC)
Ooh wow you're on my journal! <3

Thanks for the thread. I actually have a draft intro on my computer, but I haven't finished it. My fandom energy has been pretty rotten recently... and I have so many things to do for other fandoms right now.

I don't know if I'll be able to drop by soon. I'm sorry. I definately will drop by sometimes when I'm in a more RH mood (and caught up marathoning the episodes so we can have some fun discussion!)
ladykate63
Jan. 24th, 2011 12:36 am (UTC)
No problem -- take your time! :) But maybe I can recommend an excellent fic to put you in an RH mood... ;) A Very Guy Christmas Carol

See you around soon, I hope!
( 4 comments — Leave a comment )

Tags

Latest Month

June 2011
S M T W T F S
   1234
567891011
12131415161718
19202122232425
2627282930  
Powered by LiveJournal.com
Designed by Teresa Jones