Chlark Fanfic: Wounded Heart, Chapter 15
Don’t ever say I don’t listen to you.
laurelnola asked for some happy, and pretty much everyone has been on my neck for a worthy Chlark reunion. I’m happy to say this instalment contains both. And the bonus? No evil cliffie!
Oh, and marikology - you ordered a side of Tearful!Clark? Get ready to squee like a fangirl, honey.
Enjoy! Gorgeous banner by ctbn60, and I can't thank her enough. Isn't this lovely? *melts*
Chapter 15
Title: Wounded Heart
Author: BabyDee
Pairing: Chlark
Rating: PG13
Warnings: None
Timeline: Post-‘Legion’
Disclaimer: All characters belong to the CW & DC comics.
Read the previous chapter here.
Read story from the beginning here.
Clark sped in the direction of Chloe’s voice, running faster than ever before. Not for the first time he chastised himself for waiting this long. She was screaming in agony, and he could think of nothing else but getting her out of danger.
He followed the sound of her anguished voice and ran faster, his feet barely skimming the surface of the roads, the world around him frozen in suspended animation as he zipped between motors and pedestrians.
Hold on, Chloe, he thought desperately, and shot forward.
***
It all happened so fast.
Clark honed in on Chloe’s voice, barely taking stock of where he was going. In a nanosecond he had sped into a building, flew up the stairs and burst into the room where she was being held.
“Chloe?” he yelled.
Three pairs of eyes swung in his direction and regarded him curiously.
And for the first time he realised where he actually was. In a hospital.
He saw a blonde head on the hospital bed turn weakly, and her eyes widened with shock.
“Clark!” she whispered.
“The young man responsible, I assume?” asked the kindly-looking grey-haired man he assumed was a doctor.
Clark stood there gaping like a fish out of water. What the hell was going on here?
“Well, you took your sweet time!” sniped a tall nurse with a thin face, striding purposefully toward him. “If you know what this poor girl’s been through…” she grabbed his arm and marched him to Chloe’s side.
And for the first time he got a good look at her.
ALL of her.
“Oh my God.” He stared, numb with shock. “Chloe, you’re - you’re-”
“She’s seconds away from delivery and you barely made it in time for your baby’s grand entrance,” said the nurse. She grabbed his left hand. “Here, put your arm around her shoulders, like this - quickly now - and with your other hand brace her knee like this. That’s it. Now, as soon as she starts to push…”
Clark listened to her instructions in a dumbfounded daze. Her voice trailed off as he stared at a very pregnant Chloe, who looked at him with pain and fear in her eyes. She raised her hand to clutch his.
“Clark,” she began pleadingly, “I can-” suddenly her face contorted in pain.
“Okay Chloe, push!” said the doctor. “Big push now, push!”
Clark felt Chloe’s entire body stiffen and he raised her shoulders and she pushed, accompanied by a long, shrill scream. Why hadn’t he heard her sooner? Was this why she’d left? He did some quick mental sums and realised she must have gotten pregnant that day in the loft. Why hadn’t she told him? Did she think he wouldn’t have wanted to know or care that he was going to be a father? His mind was a jumbled confusion of questions, but he did his best to make himself useful in the current situation. There would be time for questions later.
“Push, push, push….that’s it! Good girl, okay relax,” her doctor instructed. “Well done, Chloe, you’ve delivered the head! One more big push and we’re done. Catch your breath…”
“I can’t do this…” she sobbed.
“Yes you can,” Clark urged, squeezing her hand gently. “You’re almost there. You’re tough, Chloe, you can do this. You hear me?”
“Okay,” she said. Then added tremulously, “Clark, I can explain-”
“Later,” he said in a determined voice. “We’ll talk later. Let’s just get you through this, okay?”
She nodded weakly, then started to breath heavily as the next contraction took hold.
“Okay Chloe, hold on to me,” he whispered. “This is it.” She held on to him with both hands as he lifted her to an almost sitting position.
“Ready?” he asked. She nodded with steely determination, looking into his eyes and holding on to him with a vice-like grip.
“Push!” the all chorused simultaneously.
“Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaagggghhhhh!!!”
“Come on, Chloe, come on,” Clark encouraged, focused entirely on her as she yelled with all her might and her grip on him got tighter and tighter. And then…
“Good girl, Chloe, you’ve done it!” exclaimed Dr Carter. And to Clark’s utter surprise, the older man smiled and raised a tiny, wriggling infant with a shock of dark hair. His baby.
Clark could do nothing but hold Chloe’s hand and stare in stupefied wonder. And even though he was looking directly at the baby, it still came as a huge shock when the when the tiny thing scrunched up its eyes, opened its little mouth and gave a strangled wail. His jaw dropped, and his vision blurred as tears gathered in his eyes.
“Oh my God!” exclaimed Chloe with an expression on her face that he was sure matched the one on his. “Is that my baby? Is it?”
“It sure is,” said Priscilla, taking the baby from the doctor and rubbing it down with a towel. “Time of birth, 4:24pm. I’ll just clean baby up for you a little, and put the hospital tag on the ankle.”
“I can’t see,” Chloe complained, struggling to sit up. “Clark, can you see?”
“Stay still, Chloe, I’m still working here,” the doctor reprimanded.
“But I want to hold my baby,” she insisted stubbornly.
“They’re bringing it over now, Chloe,” Clark reassured her, squeezing her hand as Maria wrapped the now squalling infant in a soft yellow blanket.
“Congratulations, Mama,” she smiled, as she placed the small, damp bundle in Chloe’s arms. “And you too, Dad. You both did really well.”
“Oh, my God,” Chloe breathed, reverently. “I can’t believe it.” She gently stroked her baby’s tiny cheek, and the little one instinctively turned and started rooting for Chloe’s fingertip. Chloe looked up at him in a daze. “We have a baby,” she said in reverent awe.
Clark felt a tear slide down his cheek as the sight before him pulled all his emotions to the surface.
He had a child. Chloe Sullivan was the mother of his child. He blinked, still unable to get his head around everything that had happened in the last five minutes. One minute he was sitting in the Daily Planet, business as usual. The next, he was having a baby with his best friend.
“This is unreal,” she said in a daze as they both regarded their child with wide-eyed wonder.
He reached out tentatively and stroked the baby’s soft dark hair, at a complete loss for words. He wondered idly if it would be wavy like his, or straight like his mother’s. Or her mother’s…
Goodness, they hadn’t even checked.
“Boy or girl?” he asked.
Priscilla grinned. “Take a look,” she said impishly.
Clark and Chloe regarded each another warily, and then carefully peeked under the blanket.
“It’s a girl!” they said in unison.
“And a very beautiful one,” said the doctor as he sorted out Chloe’s stitches. “She seems to favour her father’s looks, though. And size. We haven’t weighed her yet, but I’d put money on her being a nine-pounder. Very big for thirty-six weeks.” He smiled up at Clark briefly. “At least I can see why now.”
Clark looked from Chloe to their daughter and back to Chloe again, noticing her eyes shining with tears. She smiled up at him in wonder, he smiled back, still in a shocked state of amazement. He stroked Chloe’s hair, telling her without words that whatever her reasons were for almost not making him a part of this, he’d understand.
All too soon, Maria came to Chloe’s bedside. “Time to get her vital stats,” she smiled, taking the baby from Chloe who gave her up reluctantly. Clark couldn’t help but smile as he could see the maternal instincts already kicking in as Chloe craned her neck to see what was going on.
“I’ll stay with her,” Clark promised, and went to stand by the midwife as she placed his daughter in the baby scale and pressed a few buttons.
“Dr Carter,” Maria called out. “You were right. Nine pounds, six ounces!”
Chloe blinked. “Is that big?” she queried. “She looks really tiny to me.”
Priscilla laughed. “It’s a whopper is what it is, especially for a thirty-six weeker,” she said, relieving Maria to carry out the full post-natal check. The baby wailed plaintively as she was prodded and poked, and opened her little eyes in a frown.
“Goodness!” exclaimed the midwife. “She’s got green eyes!”
Clark smiled. “That’s great!” he said with a big grin. “She has my eyes!”
“Well, I’d have expected her eyes to turn green or hazel later on, no doubt,” continued Priscilla, “but they’re usually always blue to start with. I’ve been doing this for over twenty years, and this is the first green-eyed newborn I’ve ever come across.”
“She’s got my eyes,” Clark said smugly, still in a daze.
“Great,” he heard Chloe grumble from across the room. “I do all the hard work - with no pain relief, I might add - and she’s the spitting image of her father.” She folded her hands petulantly. “Life isn’t fair.”
“Well, better luck next time, dear,” chuckled Priscilla.
“Ha! Not likely!” Chloe said sternly. “I’m never having sex again.”
Dr Carter snorted. “They all say that. And they’re all back here again twelve months later.”
“Okay, we’re all done here,” said Priscilla, wrapping the crying child back up and lifting her off the examining table. She smiled at Clark. “Would you like to hold your daughter?”
His eyes widened. “Can I?” he asked, not quite daring to hope.
The midwife laughed. “Of course you can, silly, she’s yours!” She placed the crying baby in his arms, supporting her little head against the crook of his arm. “Say hello to your father, young lady.”
Clark gazed in reverent wonder into the little face as eyes as green as his own looked up at him. Almost as if by magic, her crying died down and she blinked slowly, squinting a little. He placed a fingertip in the tiny palm and gasped with joy as she tightened her little fingers around it in a fierce grip. He glanced up at Chloe, who was smiling at both of them with tears in her eyes, and suddenly felt overwhelmed by emotion.
It was all too much. Clark felt his legs begin to wobble.
“Uh…could I-”
“Have a seat?” finished Priscilla, leading him over to the chair by Chloe’s bedside. “We get that a lot. Here, sit down. Even though you’ve had months to get ready for this, nothing quite prepares you for this actual moment, does it?”
Clark’s face fell, and he looked at Chloe who returned his gaze with a hollow, pleading one of her own. “No,” he replied blankly. “It doesn’t.”
Chloe squeezed her eyes shut, and Clark saw her shoulders start to heave. To his dismay, her face crumpled and she began sobbing. Loudly.
“Chloe, don’t,” he pleaded. “Please don’t cry…”
“It’s alright, young man, it’s completely normal,” the doctor reassured him. “She’s going to be hormonal for a while. Just be there for her. She’ll be fine.”
Clark handed the drowsy baby to the midwife and put his arms around Chloe, stroking her hair tenderly. “It’s okay, Chloe,” he whispered. “Whatever your reasons were for not telling me, I’ll understand.” He cleaned her tears and smoothed her hair back. “Hey, the baby’s supposed to do the crying, not you,” he added jokingly, and she managed to reward him with a sad smile.
“All finished here,” said Dr Carter. He came over to Chloe’s side and smiled at her. “Well done, and congratulations to you both. Priscilla will give you instructions about your aftercare.” He shook Clark’s hand. “Nice to finally meet you. Much as I’d like to stay and chat, I’ve just received word that my assistance is needed to deliver a set of twins down the hall. No rest for the wicked, eh?” His eyes twinkled as he left the room, taking Maria with him.
Priscilla handed Clark the baby and went to Chloe’s bedside. He cradled the now sleeping child as her mother was checked over and given the all-clear.
“Right, everything looks fine, Chloe,” said Priscilla. “We’ll take you to your room and you can have a meal and get some much-needed sleep. Before you do, however, could you let me have the baby’s name for the Birth Certificate? And please don’t swear at me again, or you’ll hurt my feelings.”
Chloe clapped her hand over her mouth at the woman’s words. “Oh, my God,” she said, cringing. “I said some pretty nasty things to you, didn’t I? I’m so sorry.”
Priscilla waved her hand airily. “Oh, forget about it. I hear them everyday. Nothing to it.” She grabbed a pen and the clipboard. “The baby’s name?”
Chloe took a deep breath. “Kalista,” she finally said.
Clark frowned as he rocked the sleeping infant. Why Calista? It was a lovely name, but he didn’t quite see why Chloe would go for it. He knew Chloe like the back of his hand; she must have had a reason for picking that name.
“Ooh, that’s a pretty name,” said the midwife. “It’s of Greek origin, isn’t it? It means ‘most beautiful.’ That’s a great name for this lovely child.” She clicked on the pen and began writing. “C-A-L-”
“K,” Chloe corrected.
The woman frowned. “K? I thought Calista was spelt with a C.”
Chloe shook her head, looking directly at Clark. “Not for my baby,” she said softly.
“Hmm. Original.” She spelt the name out and wrote it down correctly. “Any more?”
“Éliane,” Chloe said.
Clark’s eyes widened as realisation dawned.
The midwife frowned again. “I’m not familiar with that name. Is it French?”
“Its usage is,” Chloe clarified, “but its origin is actually Greco-Roman, from the word ‘helios’. It means-”
“The Sun,” Clark said hoarsely.
“Ah, of course. Really pretty.” Priscilla added the name to the document. “And the surname - Sullivan?”
Chloe shook her head. “Kent,” she said softly.
Priscilla smiled. “Kalista Éliane Kent. Congratulations to you both.”
Clark looked down at his sleeping daughter, then glanced up at Chloe’s serious face as he went over to sit by her bedside. Tenderly, he touched her cheek.
“You called her Kal-El?” he whispered.
She nodded, smiling. “I don’t know any Kryptonian names apart from Lara, Kara & Faora, so I did the best with what we have here on Earth,” she responded.
Clark felt his eyes begin to sting with tears. “Thank you, Chloe,” he smiled. “It means a lot to me.” Then he had a sudden thought. “What if you’d had a boy?” he asked.
“Kalvin Elliot,” she replied swiftly. “But he would have constantly made me think of Lex.”
He frowned. “Why’s that?”
She grinned. “Kalvin means ‘bald’.”
Clark put his free arm around her shoulders and laughed. The tears he’d felt brimming behind his eyes began to fall freely, and the laughter quickly morphed into sobs. Overcome with emotion, he handed Kallie over to Chloe and buried his face in his hands, weeping openly.
“Clark?” Chloe whispered, and he could feel her stroking his hair. “Clark, are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” he sobbed, shoulders shaking.
Chloe blinked at him and looked at Priscilla in puzzlement.
“Don’t worry,” he heard the midwife reassure her. “We get that a lot, too.”
***
Chapter 16...