mojotastic

Title: Betrayal
Author: Minnie-May
Distribution: Archive permission granted to: Girl Friday all others please ask
Disclaimer: I don’t own any of these characters. Obviously. Although I wouldn't mind owning Lex ^_~
Summary: Chloe doesn't know what betrayal is anymore. Post Exodus.
Rating: PG
Feedback: is my life! Please send! Send to: sweet_senshi@hotmail.com



Betrayal.

It was such a nasty word. It didn't seem right for what she was doing. Besides, how could you betray someone when there was nothing left to betray? There was nothing left of her relationship- friendship- with Clark and she knew it. Had known it when he had forced her towards her car with hardly a word edgewise. Had known it when he had began avoiding her days before. Didn't want to brooch the Lana subject. Like she hadn't already figured it out, subconsciously she supposed, even before she was privy witness to their lip lock session.

Speeding down the road away from Luthor Manor she wondered why it was that she felt guilt claw at the edges of her stomach. Chloe Sullivan didn't owe Clark Kent a damn thing and that was the honest truth. She had given him time and time again to come clean with her, to just be honest about what was going on. Apparently their friendship wasn't even worth the inconvenience it would take for him to tell her he was dating Lana. Well that was fine. Why then, should she put her life on hold for him?

The file that Lionel Luthor had handed her sat on the passenger seat next to her, grinning up at her evilly. She had never imagined that a manila envelope could look so menacing. It seemed to take up the whole seat, no, to fill up the whole car with it's presence. With her sin. No, not sin, just opportunity. That's all this was, nothing personal. Yet that didn't explain why every time she glanced at the envelope her stomach dropped straight to her feet.

Chloe Sullivan had never been a good liar. When she was in the second grade she remembers breaking a pitcher in her old home. The pitcher was cut crystal, so heavy that she could hardly pick it up and she had seen herself reflected a million times in it's facets as it shattered across the floor. When her father had come home to find the pitcher on the floor Chloe had panicked, seven year old mind reaching for an excuse. She had blamed the broken pitcher on a neighbor and then, as her father stared at her intently, proceeded to break out in tears and tell him the whole story. She was an awful liar, perhaps that's why she had dedicated her life to the search for truth.

So she supposes she shouldn't be surprised that she can't even lie to herself.

Chloe abruptly pulls off the paved roadway and onto the dusty side of the road. Dirt kicks up as she puts about a half mile between herself and the road and then slams her foot against the break. She likes the way it feels when she's thrown brutally against the seatbelt, as if this is her way of punishing herself.

So this is when a choice is made.

Chloe looks over to see the envelope sitting next to her, peacefully like a monster at rest. She was in that Robert Frost poem now, one of her favorites, standing between the two paths in the woods. There was no way to take both. To take one path would be to throw the other away. She gingerly picked up the file and held it in her hands. It felt surprisingly light for some reason. Chloe supposed she had expected it to be heavy; like her guilt and her choice. One little folder, one little offer and it could change her life forever.

The file opened to reveal a spread of information. On the top of the pile was a picture of Clark, possibly even one she had taken herself for some newspaper article. He was smiling at her and blushing a little, looking totally uncomfortable at being photographed. Chloe stared at the picture and wondered what it was she was feeling. It was like the guilt had lifted as soon as she had opened the folder, but so had every other emotion and now she was staring down at the information at her fingertips, surveying each piece in cold, detached silence.

Could she really do this? Could she really betray Clark? But if she didn't, out of loyalty to Clark, out of fear, out of God knows what, would she ultimately be betraying herself? What did betrayal even mean?

Chloe closed the file folder and placed it back on it's seat next to her. It felt as if it settled back into it's rightful place, angry at having been disturbed. It once again cloaked itself in menace and used her guilt as a shield. It didn't matter now though, because she had made up her mind. She knew what she would do. Chloe put her car into drive and headed back out towards the road.

Maybe she'd have to redefine betrayal.

END


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