A/N: Well, this is my first time writing this show, and this pairing. Kay and I are just two addicts when it comes to GC; we can't seem to get enough.
This takes place in season two, after Gemma's rape, but before 'Balm', within those three weeks that Gemma sleeps on the couch instead of in bed with Clay. Just a little drabble/one-shot thing that wouldn't leave me alone.
Kay- this is for you baby :)
Disclaimer: I do not own anything.
The bed didn't feel the same without her; how was he supposed to sleep without her warmth beside him? He was drowning without her; she kept pulling away and the sea of loneliness kept deepening, threatening to submerge him.
He stood slowly, feeling stiff and sore. Walking slowly, he shuffled into the living room, finding his wife curled up in a ball on the couch.
"Gem, baby, please come back to the bed," Clay whispered into the darkness of the room, seeing her sit up instantly. "I need you with me."
He heard her breathing, a few shallow breaths that sounded painful.
"I can't get comfortable Clay," Gemma replied softly, voice breaking the darkness- and his heart.
"Even with me?" Clay asked, desperation seeping into his tone. "I just miss my wife, Gemma."
He heard her inhale, a small gasp leaving her lips. She shifted so that she was sitting on the edge of the couch, leaning forward with her head in her hands.
"Please baby," he begged softly, body aching and his heart heavy. "Gem?"
"Okay," she whispered after a moment, lifting her head to look at him through the shadows. He moved closer and offered her his hand, praying that she'd take it.
Her slim, warm fingers encased his, grasping them tightly as he helped her stand, her touch sending emotion straight to his heart and making him swallow thickly. It had been far too long since he'd been able to touch her.
Gemma looked at him for a moment, her dark eyes saying things she'd never put to words. Her hair was mussed from the couch pillow and he reached his free hand up to smooth it, his fingers laying the errant strands flat. She closed her eyes, inhaling sharply as she grasped the hand in hers tightly, biting her lip. He could have sworn she was trying not to cry.
Slowly he moved his hand from her hair to her cheek, rubbing his thumb along the bone. He pulled her closer, relief blossoming when she came easily, her nose pressing into his cheek as her forehead touched his.
A dry, pained gasp left her lips, her hands wrapping around his waist and tugging him closer to her. She was warm and soft and felt oh-so-fragile in his arms at that moment.
"Baby," he whispered, the two syllables of that word threatening to break him as they left his lips. "Let's go to bed."
She linked his fingers with hers, allowing him to lead her down the hall to their bedroom. She shut the door behind them, creating that small world where it was just the two of them for once. She came into his embrace easily, the two of them standing at the edge of the bed silently, no words even necessary between them.
Clay didn't know how long they stood there, but eventually Gemma pulled away, peeling the covers back from the pillows and sliding underneath them, looking up at him with her large, dark eyes and smoothing the covers out next to her, inviting him to join her. Once under the covers Gemma's hand found his chest, its usual resting place when they slept together.
"I missed you, Gemma," Clay whispered into her hair as her head rested on his shoulder, her soft body pressed against his under the sheets. She exhaled against his neck, lips brushing against his shoulder as she spoke.
"I told you baby- I'm just a little lost," she replied softly, her voice trembling ever-so-slightly on the last word. He could practically feel his heart shattering in his chest, wanting nothing more than to take his wife's pain away. Turning his head he pressed a kiss to her temple, her skin warm underneath his lips.
The sheets rustled as she turned to look at him, her eyes bright in the darkness of the room, the only light the moonlight that came streaming in through the window. She shifted so that she was hovering over him, her body pressed against his in a way that she hadn't in nearly three weeks. Leaning down she pressed the softest of kisses to his lips, pulling back to look in his eyes.
She looked beautiful, looking down on his with her hands touching his chest. She bit her lip, her hair still messy from sleeping on the couch and the t-shirt she wore- a shirt that he'd deemed too ragged to wear out anymore, so it had become her sleep shirt- riding up on her torso underneath the covers. She looked weathered and worn and tired, but she was his and that was all that mattered to him in that moment.
"I love you Gemma," Clay whispered into the silence of the room, breaking the rhythm of their breathing. Her eyes widened, her lips parting slightly as they curled up in the corners. She leaned down and kissed him again, her lips still soft against his.
Breaking the kiss she shifted slightly and tucked her head under his chin, encouraging him to wrap his arms around her torso. His chest moved underneath her as he took a breath, and she didn't hurt quite so much as before.
"Gem, why haven't you been sleeping in our bed the past two weeks?" Clay asked quietly, and Gemma stilled, her body still pressed against his but her voice disappearing in her throat.
In her head she felt the chain-link fence against her skin, her attackers' hands touching her body, the sounds of her yells echoing off the walls. She tried not to shudder, the memories assaulting her nerves and forcing her to bite her lip to stop any sound from coming out. She couldn't tell Clay; he'd never look at her the same way ever again. She was his wife, his old lady- if he knew she'd been violated then he'd never touch her again.
"Baby?" Clay asked, feeling her tense, worrying touching his voice as he tried to look at her face. "Gem, what's wrong?"
"Nothing," she whispered, keeping the tears from her voice in a stellar display of control. "I'm fine baby. Just go to sleep."
She slid so that she was lying beside him, her head still on his shoulder and her hand on his chest. There was a little more distance this time though, a larger degree of separation between their bodies.
Clay looked like he was going to argue but Gemma merely kissed his cheek, closing her eyes as she lay beside him. She listened to his breathing slowly even out, sleep claiming him once again easily as she stayed awake, too many memories playing through her mind for her to sleep.
But she didn't leave the bed. Clay was the only thing keeping her sane; he was her savior, her shining light, and she needed to cling to him right now. She couldn't tell him why, couldn't explain to him- but she needed him desperately.
Maybe he could save her, without even realizing it.