Chlark Fanfic: The Fallen Sky, Chapter 16
May. 5th, 2013 10:29 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
babydee1Hi, Peeps!
Right, so I’ve had this chapter ready for quite a while, but I’ve delayed posting it because it’s not happy reading at all. In fact, it’s sad enough for me to issue a serious warning that it’s probably best not read at all by anyone who’s ever lost a child.
It’s a tough read either way, so please heed the warnings, and do not read if the subject matter is something that’s likely to be a trigger or could cause depression.
Many thanks.
Title: The Fallen Sky
Author: BabyDee1
Pairing: Chlark, Oneshot
Rating: NC17 (this chapter PG)
Warnings: Angst; ***character death/loss of a child***
Timeline: Season 8 (Hex - Doomsday) Season 9 (My version)
Disclaimer: All characters belong to the CW & DC comics.
Summary: Months after walking away from her in Doomsday, Clark returns to Chloe…but finds that she’s a changed woman from the one he left behind.
Feedback: …always welcome. J
Read previous chapter here.
Read story from the beginning here.
Previously: “Say hello to your son, Clark.”
Chapter 16
I Mourn a Love
A son. He had a son.
Dear God, he was a father.
He was a father!
Inexplicable joy bubbled up inside him, and he grinned from ear to ear. He had a baby. He’d made a baby with Chloe, and he hadn’t even been around to see her grow heavy with his child, share in the miracle of childbirth, hold him in his arms and bond with him instantly.
Well, there was still time; by his calculations, the baby wasn’t more than a few weeks old, so it was early days yet.
“We have a son?” he whispered.
“You got me pregnant,” she said bluntly. “That’s generally what tends to happen when two people have unprotected sex, Clark.”
“Most people, yes, but with my alien DNA, I’d never imagined…” he swallowed past the lump in his throat, and tears sprang to his eyes as he gazed at the image of the tiny life he had created. “This is such a blessing.”
“I’m afraid you’ve left it a little late in the day to play the doting father,” was her scathing reply.
Hopefully not too late, he thought. His little boy couldn’t be more than a few weeks old; still early enough to establish a fatherly bond.
His little boy. His heart swelled with love for the son he was yet to meet. It was a miracle that was almost unimaginable. So many questions, so much he wanted to know; starting with…
“What’s his name?” he asked, tracing the tiny forehead on the glossy paper. “When was he born? Who does he look like? What colour are his eyes, his hair—?”
“Like you care.” Chloe snapped, and snatched the photo out of his hands.
He flinched, feeling stung. “Of course I care, Chloe, he’s my son. I might not have been here when he was born, but I’m thrilled to be a father, and I’m more than willing to make up for lost time.”
She pursed her lips stiffly as she stuck the photo back in the mirror. “Like I said, it’s a little too late for that.”
Clark sighed. “Can I at least see him?” he asked patiently. “I know you’re pissed at me, but this is about more than me and you, Chloe. We have a son together, and I intend to be a father to him in every possibly way—”
“You can’t see him.”
He frowned. “Why not?”
“Because he’s not here.”
“Is he out with his Aunt Lois? I imagine she’s thrilled that—”
“Lois disappeared during the Doomsday rampage and is still missing and unaccounted for,” she replied coldly. “So, no; he’d not ‘out with Aunt Lois.’ ”
He sighed deeply. “Chloe, I know you’re upset with me, and with good reason, but I’ll explain everything to you, I promise,” he pleaded. “But right now, I—you just dropped a huge bombshell on me, and all I can think about is my son, and I really need to see my little boy. Please.”
“And I told you: you can’t.”
Annoyance flared in him, but for the sake of the child that might be sleeping peacefully upstairs, he kept his voice down. “You can’t stop me from seeing him,” he grated.
She glared at him. “I’m not the one stopping you.”
“Then stop with the damned riddles and tell me!” he hissed, grabbing her shoulders. “Why can’t I see my son?”
“Because he’s dead, Clark,” she spat. “That’s why. Our son is dead.”
***
Our son is dead.
Her words rang hollowly in his ears, and he felt suddenly dizzy and disoriented.
“No…” he whispered, his knees weakening as his head swam. Blindly he reached out and leaned against the nearest wall. “No, he can’t be…”
“He is,” she said flatly. “I wouldn’t lie about something like this, Clark, you know that. Our baby’s gone.”
“Please don’t say that,” he begged. “Tell me you’re hiding him, or—or you had him adopted or something, but please—” His voice broke. “Please don’t say he’s—he can’t be…he can’t…”
But deep down, he knew she was telling the truth; the emptiness in her eyes said it all. In an instant, his elation turned to grief and he broke down and cried, mourning the loss of a love that had been handed to him and taken from him so cruelly. His legs buckled and he buried his face in his hands; slowly he slid to the ground, sobbing helplessly.
He had no idea how long he wept; not that he cared about something as inconsequential as that. Only when his tears ran dry did he raise his head and open his eyes, blindly searching for Chloe.
She was standing right where he’d left her, in exactly the same way; arms folded, expression blank.
“What happened?” he asked brokenly. “Was he stillborn?”
“My water broke at twenty weeks, a few days after the sonogram,” she said matter-of-factly. “There was nothing they could do.”
“My God, I’m so sorry,” he said, shattered. “I’m so sorry, Chloe. If…if there’s anything I can do—”
“You’ve done enough,” she spat. “You weren’t around when I needed you, so you can crawl back under the same rock you’ve been hiding under for ten months, Clark. I want nothing more to do with you.” She turned around and headed towards the door.
“Chloe, I can’t even begin to say how sorry I am,” he said. “If I’d known you were pregnant when I left—”
“You didn’t know because you didn’t care,” she said flatly. “I had just lost everyone who ever mattered to me – everyone but you. And what do you do? Disappear without a backward glance, that’s what. Nice.” She held the door open for him and made a sweeping gesture with her hand. “Get out.”
“Chloe…” he took a deep, shuddering breath. “Chloe, please don’t do this. You’ve just told me my son is…” he felt his heart tightening and the tears threatened to fall again.
“What is it, Clark?” she asked softly. “Are you hurting?”
He swallowed hard and nodded.
“Well, I wish I could say I was sorry for your loss, but I honestly don’t care how you feel,” she continued, her eyes hard. “You’ve only just found out about this; I’ve had to live with it every day for the last five months. You never knew him; I was his mother. I carried him under my heart for twenty weeks, I felt him stirring within me…and then suddenly I had to say goodbye before I’d even said hello. And you think you’re in pain?” She laughed; a brittle sound that contained no mirth. “You haven’t even started to feel the pain of losing a child.”
She walked slowly towards him and pointed a trembling finger in his face.
“You had every chance to have a family of your own, and you threw it away because of a misplaced sense of guilt,” she said harshly. “You weren’t responsible for Jimmy’s death, but you’re never happy unless you’re the centre of attention, are you, Clark? Even if it means impinging on the grief of the person who was once married to him.”
He shook his head. “No, Chloe; that’s not how it was—”
“You never asked how I was doing. Not once did ask how I was dealing with the fact that I had just buried my ex-husband,” she went on. “Just ‘my condolences,’ or ‘how are you holding up?’ would have done.” She shook her head. “But no; you left me, Clark. You turned your back on me and walked out of my life, and you didn’t care whether you’d left me with a baby or with an STD.”
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Chloe. If there’s anything I can do to make things right,” he pleaded desperately. “I know I can’t replace everything you’ve lost, but—”
“That’s right, you can’t,” she said. “My son is dead, and so is any chance I ever had of having another.”
“I don’t understand; what do you mean?” he asked fearfully.
“There were some complications, and they couldn’t stop the bleeding,” she said. “I had to have an emergency hysterectomy to save my life.”
Clark closed his eyes against the pain searing his soul. No wonder she was so angry. She’d truly borne a loss too great for any one person, and from the look of things, no-one had been there for her.
No-one. Least of all him.
“That’s right Clark,” she said emotionlessly. “I can’t have any more children, ever. So yes, I really have lost everything.”
“Chloe…” he began, but she pulled the door open.
“Get out,” she said clearly and evenly. “I never want to see you again; I never want to hear your voice again. Don’t visit me, don’t call me… don’t come near me again, ever.”
“Chloe, please don’t do this,” he pleaded. “I need you; we need each other.”
“The only thing connecting us was our baby, and he’s gone,” she said. “There’s nothing here for you now.”
He shook his head vehemently. “No. I don’t want to leave you.”
“What was it you said the last time I saw you? Oh, that’s right: ‘Clark Kent is dead.’ Well that’s exactly how I feel, Clark. You’re well and truly dead to me now.” She gave him a wintry smile. “That’s what you wanted, isn’t it?”
Clark closed his eyes, his heart full of regret. He always knew those words would come back to haunt him. He just never realised how much.
Chloe cocked her head towards the door, her eyes like cold steel. “Now get out.”
Clark felt emotionally drained. He there was so much he needed to ask her, but he knew that nothing he said would mean anything to her right now.
He trudged numbly out into the passageway, and she slammed door shut behind him.
***
To be continued…
Right, so I’ve had this chapter ready for quite a while, but I’ve delayed posting it because it’s not happy reading at all. In fact, it’s sad enough for me to issue a serious warning that it’s probably best not read at all by anyone who’s ever lost a child.
It’s a tough read either way, so please heed the warnings, and do not read if the subject matter is something that’s likely to be a trigger or could cause depression.
Many thanks.
Title: The Fallen Sky
Author: BabyDee1
Pairing: Chlark, Oneshot
Rating: NC17 (this chapter PG)
Warnings: Angst; ***character death/loss of a child***
Timeline: Season 8 (Hex - Doomsday) Season 9 (My version)
Disclaimer: All characters belong to the CW & DC comics.
Summary: Months after walking away from her in Doomsday, Clark returns to Chloe…but finds that she’s a changed woman from the one he left behind.
Feedback: …always welcome. J
Read previous chapter here.
Read story from the beginning here.
Previously: “Say hello to your son, Clark.”
Chapter 16
I Mourn a Love
A son. He had a son.
Dear God, he was a father.
He was a father!
Inexplicable joy bubbled up inside him, and he grinned from ear to ear. He had a baby. He’d made a baby with Chloe, and he hadn’t even been around to see her grow heavy with his child, share in the miracle of childbirth, hold him in his arms and bond with him instantly.
Well, there was still time; by his calculations, the baby wasn’t more than a few weeks old, so it was early days yet.
“We have a son?” he whispered.
“You got me pregnant,” she said bluntly. “That’s generally what tends to happen when two people have unprotected sex, Clark.”
“Most people, yes, but with my alien DNA, I’d never imagined…” he swallowed past the lump in his throat, and tears sprang to his eyes as he gazed at the image of the tiny life he had created. “This is such a blessing.”
“I’m afraid you’ve left it a little late in the day to play the doting father,” was her scathing reply.
Hopefully not too late, he thought. His little boy couldn’t be more than a few weeks old; still early enough to establish a fatherly bond.
His little boy. His heart swelled with love for the son he was yet to meet. It was a miracle that was almost unimaginable. So many questions, so much he wanted to know; starting with…
“What’s his name?” he asked, tracing the tiny forehead on the glossy paper. “When was he born? Who does he look like? What colour are his eyes, his hair—?”
“Like you care.” Chloe snapped, and snatched the photo out of his hands.
He flinched, feeling stung. “Of course I care, Chloe, he’s my son. I might not have been here when he was born, but I’m thrilled to be a father, and I’m more than willing to make up for lost time.”
She pursed her lips stiffly as she stuck the photo back in the mirror. “Like I said, it’s a little too late for that.”
Clark sighed. “Can I at least see him?” he asked patiently. “I know you’re pissed at me, but this is about more than me and you, Chloe. We have a son together, and I intend to be a father to him in every possibly way—”
“You can’t see him.”
He frowned. “Why not?”
“Because he’s not here.”
“Is he out with his Aunt Lois? I imagine she’s thrilled that—”
“Lois disappeared during the Doomsday rampage and is still missing and unaccounted for,” she replied coldly. “So, no; he’d not ‘out with Aunt Lois.’ ”
He sighed deeply. “Chloe, I know you’re upset with me, and with good reason, but I’ll explain everything to you, I promise,” he pleaded. “But right now, I—you just dropped a huge bombshell on me, and all I can think about is my son, and I really need to see my little boy. Please.”
“And I told you: you can’t.”
Annoyance flared in him, but for the sake of the child that might be sleeping peacefully upstairs, he kept his voice down. “You can’t stop me from seeing him,” he grated.
She glared at him. “I’m not the one stopping you.”
“Then stop with the damned riddles and tell me!” he hissed, grabbing her shoulders. “Why can’t I see my son?”
“Because he’s dead, Clark,” she spat. “That’s why. Our son is dead.”
***
Our son is dead.
Her words rang hollowly in his ears, and he felt suddenly dizzy and disoriented.
“No…” he whispered, his knees weakening as his head swam. Blindly he reached out and leaned against the nearest wall. “No, he can’t be…”
“He is,” she said flatly. “I wouldn’t lie about something like this, Clark, you know that. Our baby’s gone.”
“Please don’t say that,” he begged. “Tell me you’re hiding him, or—or you had him adopted or something, but please—” His voice broke. “Please don’t say he’s—he can’t be…he can’t…”
But deep down, he knew she was telling the truth; the emptiness in her eyes said it all. In an instant, his elation turned to grief and he broke down and cried, mourning the loss of a love that had been handed to him and taken from him so cruelly. His legs buckled and he buried his face in his hands; slowly he slid to the ground, sobbing helplessly.
He had no idea how long he wept; not that he cared about something as inconsequential as that. Only when his tears ran dry did he raise his head and open his eyes, blindly searching for Chloe.
She was standing right where he’d left her, in exactly the same way; arms folded, expression blank.
“What happened?” he asked brokenly. “Was he stillborn?”
“My water broke at twenty weeks, a few days after the sonogram,” she said matter-of-factly. “There was nothing they could do.”
“My God, I’m so sorry,” he said, shattered. “I’m so sorry, Chloe. If…if there’s anything I can do—”
“You’ve done enough,” she spat. “You weren’t around when I needed you, so you can crawl back under the same rock you’ve been hiding under for ten months, Clark. I want nothing more to do with you.” She turned around and headed towards the door.
“Chloe, I can’t even begin to say how sorry I am,” he said. “If I’d known you were pregnant when I left—”
“You didn’t know because you didn’t care,” she said flatly. “I had just lost everyone who ever mattered to me – everyone but you. And what do you do? Disappear without a backward glance, that’s what. Nice.” She held the door open for him and made a sweeping gesture with her hand. “Get out.”
“Chloe…” he took a deep, shuddering breath. “Chloe, please don’t do this. You’ve just told me my son is…” he felt his heart tightening and the tears threatened to fall again.
“What is it, Clark?” she asked softly. “Are you hurting?”
He swallowed hard and nodded.
“Well, I wish I could say I was sorry for your loss, but I honestly don’t care how you feel,” she continued, her eyes hard. “You’ve only just found out about this; I’ve had to live with it every day for the last five months. You never knew him; I was his mother. I carried him under my heart for twenty weeks, I felt him stirring within me…and then suddenly I had to say goodbye before I’d even said hello. And you think you’re in pain?” She laughed; a brittle sound that contained no mirth. “You haven’t even started to feel the pain of losing a child.”
She walked slowly towards him and pointed a trembling finger in his face.
“You had every chance to have a family of your own, and you threw it away because of a misplaced sense of guilt,” she said harshly. “You weren’t responsible for Jimmy’s death, but you’re never happy unless you’re the centre of attention, are you, Clark? Even if it means impinging on the grief of the person who was once married to him.”
He shook his head. “No, Chloe; that’s not how it was—”
“You never asked how I was doing. Not once did ask how I was dealing with the fact that I had just buried my ex-husband,” she went on. “Just ‘my condolences,’ or ‘how are you holding up?’ would have done.” She shook her head. “But no; you left me, Clark. You turned your back on me and walked out of my life, and you didn’t care whether you’d left me with a baby or with an STD.”
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Chloe. If there’s anything I can do to make things right,” he pleaded desperately. “I know I can’t replace everything you’ve lost, but—”
“That’s right, you can’t,” she said. “My son is dead, and so is any chance I ever had of having another.”
“I don’t understand; what do you mean?” he asked fearfully.
“There were some complications, and they couldn’t stop the bleeding,” she said. “I had to have an emergency hysterectomy to save my life.”
Clark closed his eyes against the pain searing his soul. No wonder she was so angry. She’d truly borne a loss too great for any one person, and from the look of things, no-one had been there for her.
No-one. Least of all him.
“That’s right Clark,” she said emotionlessly. “I can’t have any more children, ever. So yes, I really have lost everything.”
“Chloe…” he began, but she pulled the door open.
“Get out,” she said clearly and evenly. “I never want to see you again; I never want to hear your voice again. Don’t visit me, don’t call me… don’t come near me again, ever.”
“Chloe, please don’t do this,” he pleaded. “I need you; we need each other.”
“The only thing connecting us was our baby, and he’s gone,” she said. “There’s nothing here for you now.”
He shook his head vehemently. “No. I don’t want to leave you.”
“What was it you said the last time I saw you? Oh, that’s right: ‘Clark Kent is dead.’ Well that’s exactly how I feel, Clark. You’re well and truly dead to me now.” She gave him a wintry smile. “That’s what you wanted, isn’t it?”
Clark closed his eyes, his heart full of regret. He always knew those words would come back to haunt him. He just never realised how much.
Chloe cocked her head towards the door, her eyes like cold steel. “Now get out.”
Clark felt emotionally drained. He there was so much he needed to ask her, but he knew that nothing he said would mean anything to her right now.
He trudged numbly out into the passageway, and she slammed door shut behind him.
***
To be continued…
