Restless Nights (Prologue)

"The muttering retreats
Of restless nights in one-night cheap hotels"

Prologue

Please... hold me.

That's how it started. The Beast inside him wanted to claw Its way out and there was only one way to keep It in, to keep him calm. It wasn't so much her touching him as her convincing him she needed to be touched by him, needed him. Light strokes and words didn't work after a while. He needed more than that to swallow the monster. And the Beast's will to get out seemed to be getting stronger than Davis' resolve to keep it in. So she stepped up. 

Davis, I'm scared. Please... hold me.

Because he wouldn't keep It at bay it for himself, he wouldn't even do it for the scores of innocent people out there. They could make him try, but not make him succeed. He would do it for her. In the end, it was just her, the only thing between the Beast and the world outside.

Look at me. Look at my face. Davis, I'm scared. Please... hold me.

She'd tried to explain it, analyze it, figure out the whys and hows of it so she could always get it right, always keep It caged. At first, she thought it was some sort of obedience, some leftover instinct of the ways Brainiac had tried to draw them together, as if the Beast was a dog, only tame for Its master. Then she wondered if her meteor power was no longer latent, if something in her touch soothed him if she concentrated. But the truth was much simpler. 

Davis Bloome had been in and out of foster homes, unwanted, too damaged for friends, too scared for lovers. No one had ever cared for him, save her. He'd had no one to fight this for, save her. And maybe this wouldn't have happened without Brainiac pulling them toward each other, but that damage was done. She'd started caring for him and found it hard to stop even when he frightened her so badly she wanted to run screaming from whatever cheap motel they ended up in.

But she wouldn't do that. And that wasn't all for Davis. That wasn't even all for those innocent people out there. That was for Clark. She tried not to think about that because, if things worked out for the best, she'd never see Clark again. The Beast could never hurt him. So she poured all that into her plea, stroked his face, stared into his reddening eyes, begged him to hold her until he pulled her into his lap, buried his face in her neck, and wept.

"That's it. Don't let go," she breathed. 

"I'm so sorry, Chloe. I'm so... so..."

"Hey..." She pulled back and smoothed his forehead. "We beat it. There's nothing to be sorry for. We're okay. "

"But I could have..."

"You didn't," she interrupted softly, gathering him in, hoping this was working. His eyes had cleared. But it wasn't over. His skin was still burning hot, sometimes rippling, shifting with the sickening sound of the hard shell of the Beast trying to force its way out. "You won't hurt me," she said, almost sang it, trying to keep her voice from shaking. "You won't hurt anyone." You weren't supposed to show the Beast fear any more than you would a rabid dog. She'd learned that.

"I've hurt you," he hissed. "I've taken you away from every..."

"No," she crooned, not letting him release the guilt. Guilt led to fear, fear to anger, and anger to the very thing these embraces had been preventing these restless nights. "I chose to go with you. I chose to leave." She did. That much was true. She tried to say the next thing he needed, that she wanted to be here. But it wouldn't come out.

"And I'm supposed to believe that?" His body shook as he ripped away from her. 

"Davis..." She slid from the bed to the floor, trying to scramble upwards, get control back. No fear, no fear, no fear...

"I'm supposed to believe you choose this, these rat infested rooms and f*cking squalor and hiding." His breath and words came out choppy and strained as he paced away, gripped the bathroom door jamb, warped the cheap wood with his hands.

She got to her feet, taking several shaky breaths. She was losing tonight. And that couldn't happen. Not again. "I chose to go with you," she said again, and loudly, hoping that would keep the tremble out of her voice. And she tried again to say she wanted to be here, but couldn't squeeze out the words. "With you, Davis," she repeated, taking a step forward, her eyes on his back, something rippling beneath his shirt, beneath his skin.

He turned slowly. "You shouldn't be here." His eyes shifted. For a moment, she froze, thinking of Clark and red Kryptonite and how his eyes flashed those rare times she saw him on it. Davis' change wasn't like that, it wasn't flashy or bright. His eyes filled, a thick blood red that blocked out the light, blocked out his usual dark brown, and she knew he felt it, felt her fear. "Chloe..." His voice was roughened, deep now, and she knew this wasn't working anymore. "Run."

She shook her head and took another step. "No." Because she knew this was coming, knew these tearful embraces were doing less and less, knew Davis needed more of her.

"I can't... hold it much longer," he growled. "You need to..."

"I need to stay with you," she said steadily, meaning it for Clark and for that world outside, but hoping Davis would find what he needed in her words. And if that wasn't helping...

She gripped his neck, panicking slightly at the heat and the trembling under his skin. She'd known it would come to this. Deep down, she'd known. So she pulled him down, squeezed her eyes shut, plastered her body to his, pressed her lips hard against his, waited for some sign that this -- God, this now -- would be worth it. 

She felt his lips stir against hers, his skin cool to something nearly human in temperature, start to slicken with sweat, as he gripped her back, hands running to all the places they'd never been. And, God help her, she moaned, hot shame filling her at the sound of it.

She told herself there was no reason to feel shame. Nothing stopping this. She wasn't married -- newly divorced, really. Jimmy had made it abundantly clear that what they had meant less than nothing to him now. And honestly, what was it to her? The only thought in her head when she left was Clark. 

She pushed that thought away hastily as Davis pulled at her bottom lip. Hadn't she left with him? Hadn't she made that decision? Davis would be all she had now. She pulled away slightly, meeting his eyes, back to their usual brown now, so deep it was almost black. She could learn to appreciate him, appreciate this, know that it was worth it for the world and for Clark.

She pushed Clark away again and held Davis' gaze, unblinking as she gripped his shirt and pulled him backward to the bed. There would be no hesitation, no shame... and no going back.

CHAPTER LIST
CHAPTER ONE

This fic has quite the to-write list...

Chloe sleeps with Davis on the run to keep the beast at bay? Check!
Keep the smut down to an R? Check!