(no subject)
[ooc: hell_of_heaven used without permission, but with love; clark is presently npc.]
She isn’t sure what she expected. She’d tried not to have expectations at all, but of course that’s impossible.
Clark has every right to be angry, she reasons. But it’s painful to watch him be so angry about something that makes her so happy. It’s painful just trying to understand his anger and reconcile it with her happiness. She had been perfectly supportive when he had finally told her of his relationship with Lois. Maybe it was silly to think he might be supportive of her relationship with Lionel.
Mothers are required to be supportive. Children are not held to that same standard.
She takes her frustration out on the Minority Whip in their afternoon meeting. She’s wanted to hang him out to dry for awhile now, but he outranks her. She sits on both the Finance and Budget committees, putting to good use her degree in business, but today her colleagues saw a very different side of her. She sends her entire staff home at six, then sits alone in her office until nine. She thinks about joining the Capitol Hill boys’ club and getting a liquor cabinet for her private office.
She ignores four calls from Lionel, two from Lois, one from her concerned Chief of Staff, and one from the Minority Whip’s communications director.
It’s 9:03 when she is startled by a knock on the door, which is immediately followed by Lionel’s entrance. She doesn’t say anything. He stands in the doorway, leaning against the frame with his hands in his pockets. For a minute, he doesn’t say anything either.
“You spoke to Clark, didn’t you?” He asks, finally.
She looks away; he has his answer, and then some.
“Should I start re-packing my things?” If she looked up, she would see the terror in his eyes, but his voice remains even.
She hesitates, though she’s been answering that same question in her mind for hours now. “No,” she replies, softly, still looking away from him. “Clark…he’ll come around. He’ll have to.”
“I’m sorry, Martha.”
She insists that they walk home. All the way home, from Capitol Hill to Dupont Circle, a forty-five minute walk in thirty degree weather. They walk in silence, and Martha lets the cold numb her for awhile, even after he takes her hand.
Funny, she thinks. She’s never had the luxury of falling in love with someone who actually had the approval of the people closest to her. She wonders if she falls in love wrong. The wrong way. She’s always told her son that falling in love can never be incorrect, but maybe. Maybe. For her to be happy, she has to makes other unhappy.
She remembers her wedding day, the church only half full because hardly anyone showed up to sit on her side. Being walked down the aisle by the groom’s father, not her own. Being given away by someone she had never belonged to in the first place. Before entering the reception, she had cried just outside the door because she was alone. Jonathan had kissed her hand and said to her, “today means you will never be alone again.”
She didn’t regret it then. She can’t let herself regret it now.
“You can’t ever leave me.” Martha says this to Lionel standing just outside their apartment building, mind and body numb from the cold, blinking back tears that would surely freeze if she let them fall.
It’s a moment before he responds. At first he smiles - of course he’ll never leave her, don’t be silly, Martha - then his eyebrows furrow in confusion - how could she think he might? - and finally he frowns - stunning, the things he must not know about this woman still, things that would make her say that…
Then he smiles again. A very different smile this time. He takes her hand in both of his, and leads her into the warmth of the building.
Clark has no idea.
She isn’t sure what she expected. She’d tried not to have expectations at all, but of course that’s impossible.
Clark has every right to be angry, she reasons. But it’s painful to watch him be so angry about something that makes her so happy. It’s painful just trying to understand his anger and reconcile it with her happiness. She had been perfectly supportive when he had finally told her of his relationship with Lois. Maybe it was silly to think he might be supportive of her relationship with Lionel.
Mothers are required to be supportive. Children are not held to that same standard.
She takes her frustration out on the Minority Whip in their afternoon meeting. She’s wanted to hang him out to dry for awhile now, but he outranks her. She sits on both the Finance and Budget committees, putting to good use her degree in business, but today her colleagues saw a very different side of her. She sends her entire staff home at six, then sits alone in her office until nine. She thinks about joining the Capitol Hill boys’ club and getting a liquor cabinet for her private office.
She ignores four calls from Lionel, two from Lois, one from her concerned Chief of Staff, and one from the Minority Whip’s communications director.
It’s 9:03 when she is startled by a knock on the door, which is immediately followed by Lionel’s entrance. She doesn’t say anything. He stands in the doorway, leaning against the frame with his hands in his pockets. For a minute, he doesn’t say anything either.
“You spoke to Clark, didn’t you?” He asks, finally.
She looks away; he has his answer, and then some.
“Should I start re-packing my things?” If she looked up, she would see the terror in his eyes, but his voice remains even.
She hesitates, though she’s been answering that same question in her mind for hours now. “No,” she replies, softly, still looking away from him. “Clark…he’ll come around. He’ll have to.”
“I’m sorry, Martha.”
She insists that they walk home. All the way home, from Capitol Hill to Dupont Circle, a forty-five minute walk in thirty degree weather. They walk in silence, and Martha lets the cold numb her for awhile, even after he takes her hand.
Funny, she thinks. She’s never had the luxury of falling in love with someone who actually had the approval of the people closest to her. She wonders if she falls in love wrong. The wrong way. She’s always told her son that falling in love can never be incorrect, but maybe. Maybe. For her to be happy, she has to makes other unhappy.
She remembers her wedding day, the church only half full because hardly anyone showed up to sit on her side. Being walked down the aisle by the groom’s father, not her own. Being given away by someone she had never belonged to in the first place. Before entering the reception, she had cried just outside the door because she was alone. Jonathan had kissed her hand and said to her, “today means you will never be alone again.”
She didn’t regret it then. She can’t let herself regret it now.
“You can’t ever leave me.” Martha says this to Lionel standing just outside their apartment building, mind and body numb from the cold, blinking back tears that would surely freeze if she let them fall.
It’s a moment before he responds. At first he smiles - of course he’ll never leave her, don’t be silly, Martha - then his eyebrows furrow in confusion - how could she think he might? - and finally he frowns - stunning, the things he must not know about this woman still, things that would make her say that…
Then he smiles again. A very different smile this time. He takes her hand in both of his, and leads her into the warmth of the building.
Clark has no idea.