Disclaimer: I do not own anything Smallville related, not the characters, or the show; nothing.
A/N: It's been two weeks, and since I promised you guys…..
~~{(o)(o)(o)(o)(o)(o)}~~
I wake up suddenly. Instantly, I realize I'm alone. If Clark were here, I wouldn't have had the nightmare in the first place. He would've kissed me and held me until I fell asleep; while I slept; and until I woke up.
But sometimes; like tonight, he has to leave me.
He has to save somebody's life.
I get up, grab my phone, and walk over to the guest room. It used to be Clark's, but with Mrs. Kent gone, we share the master bedroom now.
"Lois," I knock once and head for the bathroom, secretly hoping she hadn't heard me and that she's still asleep. I could do without an audience, even if it is just Lois; but I promised Clark. And since he's letting me keep this secret, I've vowed not to break any other promises I make to him.
I kneel before the porcelain goddess and wait for it. I should've gotten a pillow or something to sit on, but I wasn't thinking properly. I'll do it next time.
Nothing happens. I frown, not liking this one bit. Not that I actually want to throw up; but there's something almost comfortable about knowing what's going to happen, even if it's not a good thing.
I tense up as a slow throbbing begins at my right temple. I don't know if this is good or bad; skipping the vomiting and going straight to the headache. Does that mean I won't puke at all, or will it come after this? Frankly, the idea doesn't appeal to me in the least. I'd much rather do it the regular way.
The "puke first, headache later" way.
I hold my breath as stage two of 'the headache' begins. I'm not supposed to because it actually makes it worse; but I can't help it. I'm no psychologist; but I figure in a situation like this, where everything is out of my control, like speech, mobility, coherent thoughts; I need to be able to have power over something; and breathing is the only thing I can manage to control.
'Great. Now I sound like a cutter.'
"Chloe," Lois says sleepily and sits down behind me.
She wraps an arm around me and tells me to breathe. I do, but only so she doesn't have to 'wake up'. Right now, she's on autopilot; she's done this way too many times.
She rubs my back soothingly and leans against me, not because she's trying to make me feel better, but because she's trying to get comfortable so she can go back to sleep.
I'd smile if I could.
"Lois," I can hear Clark whisper her name; then I feel him shake her awake.
"What," she starts.
"You can go back to sleep now. I've got her."
"Okay," Lois agrees with a heavy yawn before leaving.
She used to linger for a few minutes to make sure I was okay. Not anymore; which is fine by me. I feel too guilty about waking her up in the first place to actually care if she leaves me with the overprotective man that is my husband.
"Chloe?"
His voice has a slightly panicked edge to it; and it makes me want to roll my eyes. Unlike Lois, I don't think he'll ever get used to this.
I pat him on the arm quickly to let him know I'm fine, as speaking is actually something I'm incapable of at the moment.
He responds by holding me tightly against him and rocking me like a baby.
'It's almost over.' I think to myself before bracing myself for the worse and last part. I've got this down almost to a science. The grand finale should be here in three, two, one…
I still completely, holding my breath and biting my lip so that I don't cry out. It only alarms Clark when I do.
And then it's over; as if it never was.
I take several deep breaths and underhandedly grab my phone from beside the toilet. You'd think Clark would notice with his heightened senses; but usually after one of these things, he's too focused on me to notice anything else.
I text the word 'fine' and press the send button. Even though my phone is on silent, I know Lana just texted me.
"Okay?" Is what the message said. Not that I looked at it; it's the same one every time.
As quietly as possible, I slide the phone away from me. It ends up behind the toilet, which is exactly where I was aiming.
I stand up quickly; which was dumb because I'm still a little shaky.
Clark tries to help me up, but I push him away; not that I'm 'pushing him away', I just want him to see that I'm fine; and that I can do it myself; and maybe he'll stop worrying about me so much.
Yeah right.
"Chloe"-
"It's just a headache Clark. They're normal during pregnancies."
"Those aren't regular headaches," he rebuttals.
"Yeah well, this isn't exactly a normal baby," I reply absently.
He looks at me as if I'd just slapped him across the face while wearing a ring made of kryptonite. I suppose metaphorically speaking, I just did.
Inadvertently, I'd just implied everything I'm going through right now is his fault; because he impregnated me with an alien baby. It's not what I meant at all, but of course Clark won't see it that way. The guy blames himself for natural disasters; why wouldn't he blame himself for his baby causing his wife pain too? I really need to watch what I say.
"Clark, I didn't mean it like that. I just"-
"I'm sorry Chloe," He cuts me off and cups the side of my face.
"Clark, you don't have anything to be sorry for," I sigh.
He doesn't agree with me. I can see it in his face as he pulls me into a hug. He'd just rather not argue about it; because it would be a waste of time. Nothing I say is going to change his mind.
I squeeze my eyes shut. He's hurting me. Not on purpose of course. I didn't tell him my breasts suddenly became a little tender a couple of days ago. We don't really 'talk' anymore, not since I asked him if I could keep my secret.
He holds onto me for a good while; I grit my teeth and ride it out. If I tell him he's hurting me, I'll have to endure yet another round of apologies; and I'd rather not.
"This is the last time," He mumbles.
"The last time what?"
He looks down at me; then loosens his hold on me. I breathe easier, but I don't like that look on his face.
I don't think he meant for me to hear him.
"The last time what, Clark?" I repeat.
He fixes his face into that of resolute determination; which means, we're probably going to argue.
"I'm not leaving you alone at night anymore."
"Lois is here. I'm not alone," I point out.
He shakes his head.
"I don't want you to go through this anymore."
"So what are you going to do when you hear someone's cry for help; ignore them so that I don't have a nightmare?" I scoff, purposely downplaying the effects of the nightmare so that he can hear just how ridiculous that sounded.
He doesn't answer; apparently, it doesn't sound ridiculous to him at all.
"That's really…stupid," I say for lack of a better word.
He blinks at me.
"It is, and if you're actually considering it, I'm not going to speak to you for a month."
I can see him fight back a smile; then he leans in and kisses my forehead.
I knew I was right.
"Let's get you back into bed."
"I need a shower."
"You need sleep," he disagrees and tugs me a little toward the door.
I dig my heels into the tile. I'm not going to bed like this.
"But I'm sweaty…and sticky," I whine. "And I need your help."
He pauses.
"With your shower?"
"Uh huh," I nod my head and put my hands straight up in the air.
"You want me to undress you," He asks, failing to disguise the hopeful lilt at the end.
He doesn't give me time to answer. He's already taking a hold of the hem of my shirt and pulling it up over my head.
I smile up at him as he blatantly checks me out. I've nearly gained a full cup size over the last few weeks.
His expression abruptly changes from one of lust and anticipation to annoyance. Somebody needs his help.
I put on a smile for him. "Go on Clark."
"I don't want to leave you," he leans his forehead against mine and sighs.
I tilt my chin upward and kiss him softly.
"I'll be right here when you come back," I whisper.
"Remember what happened the last time you said that," he jokes.
I stiffen a little.
I do. I remember everything; but he doesn't know that. And I'd like to forget it.
I kiss him again and turn so that I can turn the water on.
He's still behind me. I can feel him.
"Seriously Clark, go," I say without looking behind myself.
And by the time I turn to look at him, he's gone.
~~{(o)(o)(o)(o)(o)(o)}~~
A/N: Next post will be Sunday, June 13th.