He'd hoped... it was nearly stupid to hope, but he had. He'd hoped her memory of the caves had been from before. But it had been from Luthor. And it angered him. Even as she pressed herself closer to him, he was angry. He wanted to shake her, make her understand... But that didn't help. He touched instead, running his hand over the layers of clothes over her stomach. He slipped his hand under, searching for bare skin, hoping this would tell her. Even at their worst, there had always been this connection. When she hated him for using her and when he resented her for letting him, this had been there... This bodily connection.
And he needed it now. He was alive. If only for now, he was with her. Every nerve ending strained toward her.
And why?
Because it was that good. Even when it was harsh and cold, it was just that fucking good.
He removed one shirt, surprised to find the layers still so thick. "How many shirts are you wearing?" he asked against her neck.
"Five," she breathed into his hair. He could feel her hands on his belt, already working at it. How the hell was he supposed to get her clothes off when her hands were already so close to his cock?
He caught her hands, holding them at her sides. She backed away, gripping the waistband of his jeans. "Slow down," he panted.
Her eyes caught his, wide and nearly frantic. "I can't." Her lips met his neck, running over his adam's apple as her hands continued on his jeans. And he really wanted to protest. He really wanted to point out that he wanted her skin against him. But her hand was gripping him through a layer of long underwear and boxers and it was too fucking good for him to let out anything more intelligible than a shaky groan.
His mind shut down. His body took over. It wanted nothing more to be buried inside her. His hands got with the program and worked at her pants, pulling at the buttons until they snapped away, pulling down, taking the ugly thermal underwear with them, then there were panties, he pushed at them, too. Sliding them down her thighs, past her knees, where they stopped, blocked by boots and socks which they didn't have time for.
She seemed to realize this, too, desperately trying to pull her legs apart. "Damn it," she muttered, trying to pull him closer, backing toward the wall behind her, trying to... nearly climb him.
He was trying, too. Trying to lift her to where he could feel her slick flesh. But he couldn't. He was ready to rip her damn pants down the middle when she suddenly pushed him back. He let her, seeing the desperation in her eyes.
He knew the frustration. He was ready to whimper with it himself until she suddenly turned around, pulling him nearer, pulling him downward as she fell to her knees, pushing herself against him. She always was a resourceful girl. Perhaps that was why he'd chosen her. He glanced upward as his body covered hers. It was the drawing. Khyla had shown it to him. Naman's soulmate. Naman's match. His mate. He still had the bracelet. He'd kept it close all this time. His secret. Once, he'd thought it belonged to Lana. He knew who it belonged to now.
His match.
His mate.
If he could... If he lived, he'd put it where it belonged.
***********************
Lois strained backward, her knees scraping on the rough floor of the cave. She needed him inside her now. She glanced backward. "Clark...'
"Yes... Okay... Just..." He pulled her hips up slightly and she helped, pushing up on her hands and knees, staring at the packed dirt of the cave floor. She needed him to get there. His hands squeezed on either side of her hips, drawing her backward. And she waited, nearly holding her breath. Because it was coming. She could feel the head of his cock at her opening, felt him press, draw back, press harder until...
"Fuck... Clark..." She shoved back hard, and he still wasn't fully inside her. She reached behind, gripping his thigh, digging her nails in slightly.
He hissed. But she knew better than to think it was pain. It was pleasure and it had him push harder, bury himself inside her until she felt his hips sealed against her. "Holy... unh!"
She knew what he meant. It wasn't every day a person found the inexplicable need to fuck their partner in a cave full of ancient drawings that... Her head flew back as he pulled out and shoved inside again hard. Her gaze met the wall, met the drawing of the woman above the oval with the lines that... That's it, her mind nearly screamed. That was why the bracelet had seemed so...
Her thoughts flew away as he pushed inside her again, harder now. He pulled back, thrust home, repeated and... Thinking was really overrated. She rocked back against him, meeting him, pushing back against him in a brutal counter rhythm that reduced him to unintelligible grunts and reduced her to even less than that. She could only let loose a weak whimper as she fell onto her forearms, nearly sobbing with need.
Clark released his grip on her hips and she nearly lifted herself, ready to pull his hands back until she felt them on her shoulders, dragging her upward again. She felt his hands pulling at her shirts and she nearly slapped him away. She couldn't take them off. She had to explain before he saw...
Her upper body relaxed as his hands gave up, loosening their grip on them to slide under... under shirt, under bra, over bare aching breast. She took one hand from the floor, holding his palms to her as she thrust backward, feeling him squeeze her breast as he plunged inside.
"So fucking good," he rasped in her ear. "Always... Just you... Only you..."
And, for the moment, she could believe it. Even knowing she wasn't the only one, she knew that, for now, it was only her. And it was enough. His words turned her muscles to liquid as her arms gave way again and she dropped to her elbows, nearly sobbing into the packed dirt floor as his hips kept thrusting and twisting. She felt the beginnings of her orgasm build deep in her body. Small explosions that radiated through her thighs and shot through her abdomen, making her body stiffen, tighten until she cried out, her breath raising puffs of dirt on the cave floor.
She came to with a breath of dirt. She choked slightly, trying to raise her head even as her body was weak and numb and... He was still going, hips still grinding against her, his breath blowing a damp patch on her neck. She felt his lips there as he pulled her up again, one hand under her ribs, fingers splaying over her breast. And she felt her body tightening again. She was seriously going to have another round...
It was nearly frightening and she felt herself trembling uncontrollably now, her muscles giving out again, unable to handle the sensory overload. He didn't seem unaffected. His hand dropped from her breast and she watched it hit the cave floor hard, leaving the kind of print that wouldn't just blow away. His power was nearly frightening that way, especially when his other hand cradled her hip so gently, slipping slightly with sweat from him or her or... she didn't really care. Her legs and arms gave out completely and she didn't care about that either. She was too desperately afraid he'd stop.
But he followed her down, thrusting almost weakly now with the lack of leverage, but it didn't matter for her. She was coming... and more. Her orgasm radiated outward through her body, bringing with it feelings of pleasure, warmth, and love.
Love? She really couldn't stop to question it now. She felt too good for thinking. She could only dimly register that he was still inside her, thrusting once, twice... until he stilled, twitching inside her as his breath moved her hair.
She coughed slightly, hardly aware why until her senses seemed to return, bringing with them the taste of dirt. It annoyed her, too. She wished her head was on a soft pillow instead of a packed dirt floor, then she wouldn't have to contemplate moving, wouldn't have to think of how to get started... She tried to lift up, but there was the dead weight of an extremely heavy man on top of her. She grunted, then heard an answering grunt from above. She felt his hand slide under her as he rolled them to the side, slipping out of her as he did so, though his body stayed wrapped around hers.
She felt his arm over her middle and looked down. It was flannel. "Where's your jacket?" she murmured, burrowing back into him.
"Must have left it there," he whispered, yawning slightly. "Don't really care."
She didn't care. really. It was a worn-out, ugly thing. But it seemed to be his only jacket. Even looking back over these months, she couldn't envision him in anything heavier than a suit jacket... or, to be honest, she hadn't seen him in anything that even acknowledged the cold weather. Until the red jacket, she'd seen nothing warmer than a pull-over sweater. She turned over, facing him. "You need a nice coat," she whispered.
His eyes widened as they traveled over her, "I'm not cold. so..."
"Oh, you big dummy!" She slapped his arm, still a bit timid... Was he really healed? "What would it look like if you walked around in short-sleeves while the rest of the world bundled up?'
He shrugged and leaned toward her, kissing her nose. "I'd be nakeder." He pulled back and smiled. It didn't seem like such a bad thing, really. "Besides that, who'd even look?"
She would. And that was the problem. If she did, then any good journalist would... She pulled back, suddenly unable to bask in the afterglow. Because it was all clearing up now. They had done it again and she still had no answers. She scooted back and stood, pulling her jeans up, as wrecked as they were. "We should go," she said quickly.
He sat up, staring at her. "Lois, I..."
"They're probably wondering where we are," she said, turning away as she tried to pull herself together.The soft tingles and warmth left her almost immediately, replaced by aches and anger and betrayal. She'd thought Clark was just helping Linda. She thought Clark was doing a favor a relative of an old friend. She'd never thought that Clark was doing more than that. He'd been keeping more than that suit under wraps.
"Lois, you have to..."
"We have to get back," she cut in. She turned back to him. "We've wasted enough time already."
"Wasted..."
"Bet they're freaking out," she cut in. "I'm sure we'd be a welcome sight, so..." She moved to the mouth of the cave, waiting for him to follow, waiting for that moment of lift-off. She turned back, taking him in with his dissheveled clothes and his sad face...
"Lois, I want to..."
She turned away again, moving just outside the cave. "Let's just go," she said, not taking another look back. "I really don't want to hang around here."
She waited, but he said nothing else. She didn't want him to. She just wanted to feel him there, as his arms caught her beneath her arms, bringing her high with him above the caves. She looked down then, wondering what happened to her. In the caves, she'd needed answers. Now, she'd be happy to know nothing except that he could be inside her daily. Nothing else mattered.
And that was scarier than anything.
****************************
Clark let them down in the fields, hoping no one saw the flying man in his civvies. He walked silently beside her toward the house. She was shivering. He wanted to put an arm around her, try to warm her. But he wasn't sure exactly what was allowed.
There was distance now. She'd been silent on the short flight back. She was bothered. He wondered if it was about the fortress or the caves. Probably both. Probably everything. She had more on her mind than anyone should. If they just had time... He wanted to sit with her, tell her what he could. She couldn't go on like this. But the sun was going down. It would be dark and time to track that truck.
His blood was out there, maybe even inside someone at this moment. He thought of his mother in the hospital. She'd only breathed the spores. But in the presence of his blood, they would be more potent. Kryptonite glowed when he was near. His weakness would be theirs. He only hoped he could get there before it was too late.
*************************
"...And I can't even get a hold of you know who."
"You don't think..."
"Checking up on us at this point would just..."
"Lose us our funding." Joanne pressed her ear closer to the door. It was the Doc. She hadn't seen her more than once since Morgan's illness. She knew why. The guilt was plain on her face. All through her time at Met Vista, she'd... Well, she hadn't trusted her. Not at first. But after she started seeing her more and with...
"That won't happen." It was the nurse now. "We're too deep in to finish without results. Besides, I have a little leverage of my own."
"What do you mean by..."
"Never you mind."
"And how can we get results? Whatever you did to Morgan turned her into a vegetable."
"It needed more time. That was all. I'm telling you, I know more about the blood than you do. I've been checking it. I'm sure it will rid itself of the infection when..."
"You know, I can't be sure of you anymore. I brought you into this. You couldn't get a job as a veterinarian, not as a dead woman..."
"You brought me in because I had something you needed. Let's drop your sweet act now. After your work with Luthor..."
"I never worked with him, not underneath. You know I worked for..."
"I don't have time to argue with you anymore. If our great benefactor is paying us a surprise visit, then I want to be ready with results."
"What are you doing?"
"I'm going to fight the infection, buy myself some time."
"Time for what?"
"You'll see."
Joanne heard a click on the other side and quickly stepped away, taking her chair again, closing her eyes as the door swung open with a light creak. It was the nurse, of course. The doc didn't follow. She had never spent this much time altogether with the nurse. She didn't even know her name. Some of them called her Nurse Nasty. It was because of the way she spoke to them, so curt, so businesslike, nothing like the Doc. Then again, the Doc wasn't here and she was.
Still, the woman hardly ever looked at them more than she needed to. She put something into Morgan's IV now, not even looking at her face, her eyes on the monitor, blowing a long curl out of her eyes. "Come on," she said under her breath. Joanne heard it.
"Why are you even bothering?" Joanne stared at her profile. "She's no use to you now. Isn't that right?" The woman turned away. "Even if she gets better, she can't carry again."
"It doesn't mean I won't help her. We'll get her stable, at least."
"Stable?" Joanne nearly laughed. "She hasn't spoken since yesterday, but I don't think you care. You never cared about any of us."
The woman nearly turned. "I'm doing what I can."
"And you should." Joanne stood. "You did this to her. I heard about that infection you put into her."
The woman almost turned. "How do you know about..."
"I've kept my ears open. I have to. How else could I survive, not knowing what the two of you will do next? I can't..." Joanne's voice broke. "I never really cared about a kid. It was Morgan who wanted this. I just wanted to be with her. And now she's..." She couldn't say the words.
"She's not dying, okay?" the woman growled, finally turning to her. "I know what I'm doing."
"Really? Because it doesn't seem like it. It seems like you two are just playing God with us, not even thinking of..."
The woman moved to the door.
"Please... Don't..." Joanne moved after her, placing a hand on the door. One of the hulking guards would be there waiting to dope her up, make her more malleable. She turned pleading eyes to the woman, grasping her hand as she finally turned to her. "Please, just... Just tell me your name."
The woman stared at her. After these months with no eye contact, her eyes seemed nearly... human. "Helen," the woman said, then turned away as if regretting that word.
"Helen," Joanne cried out, grasping her hand. The woman turned back, eyes darting everywhere, never landing on Joanne. "Helen, please... tell me you'll save her." She felt her eyes sting with tears. "I'd never tell what happened here. I just want to go. As long as you can save her, we'll..."
The woman's eyes met hers, wide and frightened. Her hand shook in Joanne's as she pulled it away. "I don't know if I can," she breathed before jerking the door open.
Joanne could only stare as it slammed shut. She knew it would do no good to run after her. Hysterics did her no good. Security would come. She'd be taken away from Morgan again. And she couldn't handle that. They had the two of them in quarantine, but at least... She stared at the bed, where Morgan laid still, eyes closed, breath labored. At least they were together. She breathed deep, trying to calm herself. She pulled her chair closer to the bed, grasping Morgan's hand. "Fight, Baby," she whispered. "Please..."
**********************************
"Boyscout!" The voice came from ahead, from the house. Lois knew it was a moniker for Clark, but she... she stopped short, suddenly seeing Bart in front of them at the edge of the field. "You okay?" She stood, slightly shaken as Bart pulled a fist back. "Tell me if this hurts..."
She glanced over, wincing. "Might hurt you," Clark said, suddenly a foot behind Bart.
Bart shrugged and put his hand down, turning around to face Clark. "Not as fast as me, but not bad." He grinned suddenly. "Cool! I mean, we were ready to take a sudden journey to the Arctic, so...."
Clark stepped forward again. "What's going on? Is Victor ready to..."
Bart waved a hand at him. "He's back at the clocktower. He's nearly got a lock without even calling the thing. We've been set for a while." He patted his ear. "I ran back to get all wired up. But they didn't want to make a move till you guys were back, being as how this is your baby. But you better get in there because everyone's getting pretty antsy. Your mom's practically..."
Clark sped forward, leaving only wind in his wake. Lois stared at the spot where he'd stood, feeling like an outsider, so alone that...
"That guy." She jumped slightly, realizing Bart was still there. "Can't keep him down, right?" He looked Lois up and down. "You two look a little disheveled." He smiled. "Just like old times, I guess."
She squinted at him. "Old times..."
He suddenly moved away from her. "I mean, it just reminds me of this other time with some other two people who were totally not you guys and all...So..." He stopped, nodding. "Yeah. Because we don't know each other."
"But I know you," Lois said, shaking her head.
Bart dropped his smile, then nodded again, his smile reappearing. "Yes. Totally. Because we met when I was visiting my buddy Clark, so..."
"No. I know you from before that." Lois grasped his arm. "I know you all."
Bart glanced at the house, then back at her, looking confused. "Well..."
"I'm not mad, Bart," she said gently. "I just want to know why." She grasped his arm, in that red hoodie she seemed to remember, as if from a dream. "You knew me, even that night. And you... you never told me. Why?"
His eyes met hers, softening slightly. "Because you didn't seem to know me." He shrugged. "I don't know. I hoped you would, kind of. But I figured that, since you didn't..."
She suddenly felt guilty, as if she should have known. "I'm sorry. I... I lived in Star City and I guess... I guess I just forgot about it. It was as if there was this blank where it all should be."
He seemed to relax. "Well, after Ruby Ridge, things were kind of boring and forgettable. I'd forget, too, if I could. Like when I was dating that Vegan chick with the..."
Lois didn't hear any more. Ruby Ridge. The words seemed so scary and important and... her head ached so hard. "Bart, tell me about Ruby Ridge."
"... Then A.C. totally stole my ipod and he wouldn't... Huh?" He stopped what was obviously a very involved story and stared at her. "Ruby Ridge?" He swallowed. "Did I say that?"
She grasped his arm harder. "What's Ruby Ridge?" She had to know. She needed to know. Even over the pounding in her head, she knew that.
He tried to pull away, but she held on. "Listen, Lois, we should get back in."
"Bart, I need..."
"Holy Crap!" He looked upward. "What the hell is that?"
Like an idiot, she looked, too. She'd hardly registered that his arm was loose when she found herself alone. She glared at the house, feeling the anger resurface. It wasn't just Clark, just Linda, just Ollie... Everyone was hiding something from her.
She lifted her chin as she moved toward the house. Her head was pounding. Her knees were weak. But she walked on, trying to ignore it. There were answers. And she'd find them. That was what she did, after all.
**************************
"I sent Diana and AC back with Victor," Ollie was saying as Clark peeled off two shirts. The bulk made it harder to move. "Figured we could do with less people pacing, especially with Bart's pacing being so violent. He nearly took out AC's..."
"Mom..." Another thing affecting his mobility was his mother. He felt his mother's hand in his hair again. "I told you I was..."
She pushed at the back of his head, fingers searching. "Just checking. I mean, you had that lump and we have to be sure..."
He took her hand and squeezed it lightly, turning back to her. "I'm fine. I promise."
She nodded and moved back, hands up. "I'll just go... get some clothes."
"Clothes?" Clark stepped toward her. "Why?"
She rolled her eyes. "Clark Jerome Kent, if you honestly think I'm going to sit on the farm and wait, then I just don't know what kind of idiot I raised."
"But..."
He felt Ollie's hand on his arm. "She's better off with us than sitting here alone. Chances are someone knows a little too much about you."
He thought of Helen Bryce. She'd seemed trustworthy all those years ago, but... After Lex's disappearance, word was she'd pranced about like some sort of merry Widow until... Well, his knowledge of that time had holes. He hadn't been here for most of it. What had happened to turn her into what was now? She knew... She had to know what he was. More than that, she knew who he was now. What had made her suddenly come after him?
"What's the plan?" Clark asked, turning back to Ollie.
"Without much time, we're flying by the seat of our respective pants." Ollie shook his head. "Vic's not happy, of course. He likes a more planned-out approach. But the deal is for you and Bart to get to that truck. The rest of us meet back at the tower, suited up and ready to either save your asses or come in and raid the place." He stared hard at Clark. "You sure you're up to this?"
"Of course."
"It's just that you seem..."
There was a loud slamming and Bart was suddenly beside him. He felt a light nudge in his side. "This is so cool, huh? Man, I thought we'd never get the gang back together."
He looked back at the still shaking screen door, then to Bart. "Where's Lois?"
"Uh... Out there still, I guess." He smiled suddenly. "We only talked for a second and I totally didn't..."
"You're back?" Clark glanced toward the source of the shriek. "Couldn't anyone tell me?" Linda strode forward from the staircase, swatting Ollie on the arm. "What happened? Did you..."
"I'm fine, Linda." He absently patted his pocket, feeling the weight of the crystal there.
She bore down on him. "But what about Lois? Ollie said you were going to..."
"I did not say anything," Ollie cut in. "I only said you were hoping to..."
"Get better," Clark said loudly. He could see Lois in the doorway, out of the corner of his eye. He stared hard at Linda and Ollie. "And I did."
Linda stepped toward him. "But Ollie said..."
He grasped her arm, trying to be gentle. "Yes. I'm better. And we should get back to the clocktower." He nodded his head slightly toward the door.
Linda, never one for subtlety, turned to look. "Lois! Jesus, I was so worried!" She ran at her cousin, but Lois put her hands up.
"I'm fine, Linda." Lois stepped back. "Could you please not crowd me? I have a headache."
Linda stopped. "Oh... Well. Okay." Her face fell as Lois stepped aside.
"I'm pretty much set." Clark looked to his mother, who was just coming down the stairs with a duffel bag. "Clark, I have some of the older suits in the hall closet if you think you... Oh. Hi, Lois." She dropped her bag and moved forward. "How are you, Sweetie?"
Lois smiled slightly then. "Fine, Martha. I just want to wash up. Is there somewhere..."
"Yes," Linda cut in. She glanced to the side, then pulled Lois away toward the door. Clark saw it, too. It was a picture on the wall, him with Chloe in caps and gowns on graduation day... Well, not really on graduation day itself. With the second meteor shower hitting, they'd never had a real photo-op that day. His mother had insisted they put them on again. They'd had dinner here another night. Chloe's father had come, too. He almost wanted her to see it, to know... "We're all going back, so you can wash up at the apartment."
Linda flinched slightly as Lois' head turned back into the house. She wasn't looking at the picture, though. She was looking at Clark. And there was so much anger and distance in her eyes. "Fine," she said coldly. "I just want to get cleaned up."
He watched her back as she moved away from the house, watched Linda move after her, obviously not giving up. "Look, I'm sorry I got mad about the car. I'm sure it's fine..."
He knew what the problem was. It wasn't just the fortress. It was them. It was what had happened. And it was all he hadn't said. He absently moved his hand to his back pocket again.
He hoped he'd have the chance to say it.
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