Post-Hourglass
By Lisa
Disclaimer: I don't own them
Rating: PG
Summary: As the title says (not very original today sorry), M/J
As Clark pulled out of the embrace, Jonathan gently pushed Martha back, looking her over. Her cheeks were pink, she was watching him, and she was fine. He reached around her into the grain, his hand finding her lower back as he helped pull her up. Martha let him help her, watching Clark pull the old man out as well. He was dead. She looked away.
"Come on," Jonathan said softly to her. "Let's go in, call the police. Clark," he added, turning back to where Clark laid the man on top of the pile of grain. "Leave him there."
*
"Sit," Jonathan ordered as he brought his wife into the bedroom.
"I'm all right, really," Martha managed, nevertheless perching on the edge of the bed. He knelt in front of her, balancing himself by resting his hands on her knees.
"I'm not all right, so I don't know how you can be," he replied, resting a hand on her cheek. "Jesus Martha, I'm shakin' like a leaf." She took a deep breath, watching him as she took his hand from her face and squeezed it gently.
"We should go and wait for the police," she said. "I'll need to give them a statement." She stood and walked out, but Jonathan caught up to her on the stairs.
"Don't do this," Jonathan said, grabbing her and pulling her back to him. He could feel her breath on his chin as she looked up at him. It was shallow, uneven. "Don't be strong. I'm not asking that of you." He saw tears fill her eyes and knew she'd be cursing herself for wanting to cry.
"What are you asking?" she whispered, following willingly as he brought her back into the bedroom and sat down on the bed with her.
"I almost lost you. You weren't breathing don't you know?" She looked away. "You don't have to be the strong, supportive wife here. Sweetheart you just have to be you-" He touched her face again, trying to get her to turn her head back to him. She let out a soft sob and before she had a chance to cover it up Jonathan pulled her into his arms. Jonathan let a few lone tears escape his eyes but no more, looking up to see Clark in the doorway. Silently, Jonathan told Clark that she'd talk to the police in the morning, and he nodded, leaving quickly. He kissed his wife's cheek as she stopped crying, pulling back and looking at him.
"You still shaking?" she asked. He shook his head.
"Not now I know you're okay," he replied, leaning forward. "I love you." Martha nodded, pressing her lips against his and kissing him deeply, sensuously, feeling her knees weaken as he pushed her down onto the bed, cradling her neck. She put a hand to his chest and pushed him up slightly.
"Jonathan-" she started. He knew she wasn't objecting to anything they were doing, that she only wanted to tell him something - he saw that much in her eyes. "You brought me back to life. Thankyou." He shook his head, leaning back down and nuzzling her cheeks that were wet with tears, kissing her gently and tasting the salty water on his lips as his fingers worked on loosening her clothing. Their lips met again but she pulled away, turning her head and biting her lips, her eyes welling up once more. Jonathan stood up, pulling back the covers and helping her under them as she removed some of her clothing, before sitting next to her.
"Just rest, Martha," he whispered. "You're okay, it's okay-" He stroked her hair, knowing that it relaxed her. She closed her eyes at his touch and he watched her breathe, almost obsessively. She was right. He had brought her back to life. Although at the time that had never occurred to him. He'd only wanted her to open her eyes, to see her cheeks flushed the colour of pink they were now, to feel her hot breath on his neck. He watched now as her chest rose further and for longer with every breath, her eyelids fluttering gently. He left the room quietly, making a silent promise to her that he'd be back.
Jonathan found Clark sitting at the table. He looked up at his father's footsteps.
"Is mum okay?" he asked, worried. "She was crying-"
"She'll be all right. They left already?"
"Just then. They took his body and said they'd be back tomorrow morning to talk to mum. Are you sure everything's okay?" Jonathan nodded, resting a hand on Clark's shoulder.
"Yes, she's gonna be fine."
"Cos she's got you, hey dad?" Clark smiled. "I'm going to head up to bed. See you in the morning."
"Sure son. Clark-" Clark stopped in the hallway and turned back to him. "Sometimes I really gotta thank God for you, you know-"
"I love you too dad," Clark replied quickly. "Goodnight."
Jonathan headed back up to his bedroom to find Martha sitting up in bed, waiting for him.
"You're meant to be resting," he stated, walking into the bathroom and getting a drink of water before making his way back into the bedroom.
"Sitting here doesn't require a lot of effort," she replied, watching him undress down to his underwear. He pulled on a button up pyjama shirt without bothering to button it up and slid into bed with her. A hand on her waist, he brought her down to lie beside him. "I'm feeling much better," Martha continued, resting their heads close together on the pillows. She touched his chest briefly and Jonathan knew what that meant, leaning forward and kissing her.
"I'm so glad you're all right," he whispered into his ear. "I love you so much."
"I love you to," Martha replied as she helped him off with his shirt, smiling as he kissed her as a promise of what was to come.
***
As Clark pulled out of the embrace, Jonathan gently pushed Martha back, looking her over. Her cheeks were pink, she was watching him, and she was fine. He reached around her into the grain, his hand finding her lower back as he helped pull her up. Martha let him help her, watching Clark pull the old man out as well. He was dead. She looked away.
"Come on," Jonathan said softly to her. "Let's go in, call the police. Clark," he added, turning back to where Clark laid the man on top of the pile of grain. "Leave him there."
*
"Sit," Jonathan ordered as he brought his wife into the bedroom.
"I'm all right, really," Martha managed, nevertheless perching on the edge of the bed. He knelt in front of her, balancing himself by resting his hands on her knees.
"I'm not all right, so I don't know how you can be," he replied, resting a hand on her cheek. "Jesus Martha, I'm shakin' like a leaf." She took a deep breath, watching him as she took his hand from her face and squeezed it gently.
"We should go and wait for the police," she said. "I'll need to give them a statement." She stood and walked out, but Jonathan caught up to her on the stairs.
"Don't do this," Jonathan said, grabbing her and pulling her back to him. He could feel her breath on his chin as she looked up at him. It was shallow, uneven. "Don't be strong. I'm not asking that of you." He saw tears fill her eyes and knew she'd be cursing herself for wanting to cry.
"What are you asking?" she whispered, following willingly as he brought her back into the bedroom and sat down on the bed with her.
"I almost lost you. You weren't breathing don't you know?" She looked away. "You don't have to be the strong, supportive wife here. Sweetheart you just have to be you-" He touched her face again, trying to get her to turn her head back to him. She let out a soft sob and before she had a chance to cover it up Jonathan pulled her into his arms. Jonathan let a few lone tears escape his eyes but no more, looking up to see Clark in the doorway. Silently, Jonathan told Clark that she'd talk to the police in the morning, and he nodded, leaving quickly. He kissed his wife's cheek as she stopped crying, pulling back and looking at him.
"You still shaking?" she asked. He shook his head.
"Not now I know you're okay," he replied, leaning forward. "I love you." Martha nodded, pressing her lips against his and kissing him deeply, sensuously, feeling her knees weaken as he pushed her down onto the bed, cradling her neck. She put a hand to his chest and pushed him up slightly.
"Jonathan-" she started. He knew she wasn't objecting to anything they were doing, that she only wanted to tell him something - he saw that much in her eyes. "You brought me back to life. Thankyou." He shook his head, leaning back down and nuzzling her cheeks that were wet with tears, kissing her gently and tasting the salty water on his lips as his fingers worked on loosening her clothing. Their lips met again but she pulled away, turning her head and biting her lips, her eyes welling up once more. Jonathan stood up, pulling back the covers and helping her under them as she removed some of her clothing, before sitting next to her.
"Just rest, Martha," he whispered. "You're okay, it's okay-" He stroked her hair, knowing that it relaxed her. She closed her eyes at his touch and he watched her breathe, almost obsessively. She was right. He had brought her back to life. Although at the time that had never occurred to him. He'd only wanted her to open her eyes, to see her cheeks flushed the colour of pink they were now, to feel her hot breath on his neck. He watched now as her chest rose further and for longer with every breath, her eyelids fluttering gently. He left the room quietly, making a silent promise to her that he'd be back.
Jonathan found Clark sitting at the table. He looked up at his father's footsteps.
"Is mum okay?" he asked, worried. "She was crying-"
"She'll be all right. They left already?"
"Just then. They took his body and said they'd be back tomorrow morning to talk to mum. Are you sure everything's okay?" Jonathan nodded, resting a hand on Clark's shoulder.
"Yes, she's gonna be fine."
"Cos she's got you, hey dad?" Clark smiled. "I'm going to head up to bed. See you in the morning."
"Sure son. Clark-" Clark stopped in the hallway and turned back to him. "Sometimes I really gotta thank God for you, you know-"
"I love you too dad," Clark replied quickly. "Goodnight."
Jonathan headed back up to his bedroom to find Martha sitting up in bed, waiting for him.
"You're meant to be resting," he stated, walking into the bathroom and getting a drink of water before making his way back into the bedroom.
"Sitting here doesn't require a lot of effort," she replied, watching him undress down to his underwear. He pulled on a button up pyjama shirt without bothering to button it up and slid into bed with her. A hand on her waist, he brought her down to lie beside him. "I'm feeling much better," Martha continued, resting their heads close together on the pillows. She touched his chest briefly and Jonathan knew what that meant, leaning forward and kissing her.
"I'm so glad you're all right," he whispered into his ear. "I love you so much."
"I love you to," Martha replied as she helped him off with his shirt, smiling as he kissed her as a promise of what was to come.
***