Season 8, MHE for "Legion"
Rating: Adult. If you're under eighteen, please go elsewhere now.
Disclaimer: These characters belong to the CW and DC Comics, not to me.
Read Chapter 5 here.
Clark made another of those small, vulnerable noises in his throat. And then he was lifting her in his arms, exactly as he'd picked her up earlier, and the two of them were across the loft in a flash. He collapsed onto the couch on his back, and she fell on top of him, sprawling across his chest.
She couldn't restrain a giggle at his wild rush, and she heard a soft chuckle from him in response. She pressed her face into his throat, thinking that this was one of the things she loved most about her relationship with Clark, that the two of them could laugh together no matter how grim things got.
She tried to remember the last time she'd laughed with Jimmy, and couldn't. But then, she'd lost half a year of memories, so maybe it wasn't a fair comparison. She'd had Clark in her life a lot longer, after all.
Clark's hands were all over her, stroking her back. The yellow t-shirt belonged to him, so it was way too big for her, and his hands had no trouble making their way up beneath it. She moaned a little at the touch of his palms against her skin.
"Clark," she whispered. "We shouldn't... I mean, I want to, but... things are so complicated right now."
"Yeah." His fingers slid around to her sides, caressing her ribs, slipping close to her breasts but not actually touching them. "You're right. So we won't go, you know, all the way. But I have to touch you, Chlo. I have to."
"I know." She let her hands slide up under his shirt, caressing the warm, smooth skin of his chest, stretched taut over firm muscle and unyielding bone. "I know exactly what you mean."
At her touch, he bared his teeth and hissed a little, like she'd startled him. She lifted her head, seeing that his neck was arched back, his eyes clenched shut.
She couldn't resist leaning forward and kissing his throat. He gave a little moan, and his body moved against hers, just a bit.
"Chlo." It sounded as if words were being dragged out of him against his will. "I really need to... to touch you, but before we... before we do anything at all... we need... to talk."
She let her mouth trail down toward his collarbone. "Talking is highly overrated."
"Chlo... please. We really have to..."
She lifted her head with a jerk and glared at him. "Clark," she said tightly, "talking is not going to fix everything. In fact, I don't think it's going to fix much of anything. My memories of the past six months are a blur, and I've somehow wound up married to a guy I don't love, and talking is not going to fix any of that. I don't want to talk, damn it."
His eyelids fluttered open, and he stared at her. In the emerald depths of his eyes she saw pain and guilt.
"There are some things you need to know," he said, very softly. "Before we do... anything. Because they might change your mind."
The look in his eyes caught at her heart, and she reached up and stroked his cheek. "Nothing could change my mind about this," she assured him.
"This might," he answered. "I screwed up, Chloe. I screwed up in a big way, and you deserve to know about it."
She sighed, because it was obvious she wasn't getting any until Clark got whatever was bothering him off his chest. He was like that-- he tended to focus in on guilt to the exclusion of anything else.
"Okay," she said. "Tell me what's bothering you, Clark."
He was silent for a long moment. At last he spoke, very softly.
"When Brainiac took you over," he said, "he wiped your memories completely. I mean, completely. You couldn't remember any of us. So I took you to the Fortress and asked Jor-El to fix the problem. But..."
There was an extremely long pause. She stroked his hair, trying to tell him without words that whatever had happened, she wouldn't be angry. She wasn't sure why he thought she'd be mad about this, anyway. It sounded like he'd literally gone to the ends of the earth to save her.
"Go on," she said at last.
"Jor-El said he could convert the code in your brain back to normal human memories, so I asked him to do it. But I... I..." His voice dropped to a harsh whisper. "I asked him to keep some of them."
"You what?" She blinked. "Why would you do that?"
"I wanted you to be happy," he said softly. "You seemed so happy with Jimmy, and I felt like I was holding you back, so I... I..."
He trailed off again, and she frowned at him.
"Clark. What did you do?"
He sighed, so heavily her hair blew in the sudden breeze.
"I had Jor-El keep your memories of my secret," he said.
More to come...