#ftlt

“I’ve answered all your questions. Twice. Are we really going to do this again?”

You looked up into the dull eyes of faceless and unfamiliar agents who were just as exhausted and impatient as you were. They had more reason to hide it though.

“Agent Calloway you know this is protocol, an agent on your team died under your watch—“

“And if I could have done something to change that I would have!” you started, but after the break on their faces you stopped and gathered yourself. “I take full responsibility for what happened to Lana. That’s never going to change. But every person on my team understands the risk before they take it. This is more than protocol, so are you going to continue wasting my time or tell me what’s really going on?”

“The only other person present enough to corroborate your story is Kovac himself. And when three of our agents are taken by a known crime lord and one of them comes back dead while the other doesn’t have a single scratch, we investigate.”

“Jesus,” hearing his name put a knot in your stomach. “What are—you think I was working with him—“

“Our only lead on Kovac has disappeared and at the exact same time we find you fleeing the country.”

“I wasn’t—fleeing the country. What lead, on Kovac. What are you talking about.”

As they watched you waiting on them, eyes wide, everyone in the room seemed to fall on a realization at the same time.

There was a pause as they glanced at each other. “We have—had reason to believe, that after Clark’s statement, he found out something before we did. Had evidence of something, and wouldn’t turn it in.”

“…his statement. He told you I—killed—“

“He told us what happened. We didn’t believe him. The fact that he’s gone, and you don’t know where he is counts towards the fact that he couldn’t know something you don’t.” The two began collecting their things from the desk and just like that they were on the way out of the room. One turned, “For what it’s worth y/n, none of us hoped it would be true. It’s just when one of our own—“

“Yeah, I know. You had to know.” You kept your eyes down.

“Do you have any idea where he might be? Has he contacted you at all recently?”

You knew that you were too late now. If he hadn’t already, he was about to cross a line he’d never crossed before, but he knew he was doing something you couldn’t do, the only thing you couldn’t do, and for that you knew he wouldn’t stop.

“I don’t know where he is, and I haven’t talked to him for weeks.”

As he glanced over at the clock on the nightstand, his blood stained eyes read 2:47 a.m. His brow was slick with sweat, his knee hadn’t stopped jerking up and down since he’d sat down. Every time he tried to leave he would notice a lull in Andrew’s breathing that kept him in his place. He wasn’t going to risk his life anymore than he already had, but he couldn’t be sure that leaving him here in the bed would assure that.

For the fifth time he lifted his eye lids one at a time and shone his light into them. They were equally reactive, that plus the pain pills Clark gave him to keep him asleep seemed to be the only reassurances he would get tonight.

What terrified him was that he didn’t know what he would find. Kovac surely hadn’t called for back up. Every step was calculated, his only mistake was that he had underestimated Clark.

He was still half a mile away when he saw the big clouds of black smoke wafting through the air above the explosion. He knew that meant that if authorities weren’t there now, they would be soon.

There were no lights, no sounds except the flames.

He would leave the guards, no one would care enough to I.D. them.

As he waded through the fire, arm shielding his eyes, the smell overwhelmed him instantly. It crawled through every open space it could, entangled itself inside of him. The rot. The melted flesh that now clung to the gravel of the ground as it did the internal memory of Clarks mind.

Another step and his foot pushed up against it. It gave as Clark nudged it again without looking down. He wanted to be sure first.

His head snapped to the road as he tied off the bag. The lights were first, followed by the high-pitched ring of the sirens.

Clark was gone like he was never even there.

You waited weeks to hear from him. Long enough for you to watch as the agents search ended with a bulletproof alibi provided by Sargent Daniels himself. You thought surely it would mean he would be back, that he would be coming back to you next. But weeks turned into months. Months spent pretending to be angry at Clark for keeping this from you. Quickly followed by accepting you both had your fare share of secrets. Finally reaching the point where you just wanted to know where he was, more than anything.

You knocked three times before letting yourself into Daniels office. He seemed to be in the middle of a discussion with someone you didn’t care to acknowledge.

“We need to talk.”

He looked up at you, forward to his guest, then back up at you with a hesitation. “Can it wait?”

Still it didn’t seem necessary to answer that question by the look you had in your eyes.

“You’ll have to excuse me. I apologize.”

He ushered the man out of his office, ignoring his disapproval until he could finally shut the door on him. With a sigh he settled back down into his chair and watched you as you took a few steps closer to his desk.

“Would you like something to drink? Coffee, tea?”

“Don’t bullshit me,” you said sternly. That gave him a look, but if he moved past the anger it was a short trip to concern, something he rarely saw in your eyes.

“I should have spoken to you about this earlier. I’m sorry. Take a seat.”

You weighed his words, his kind eyes, and did as he asked.

“He’s taking a leave of absence. His return date hasn’t been set.”

“Did he say where?” you rushed out. “I went by his apartment, his house. He’s wasn’t at either.”

He debated what and how much he should say next.

“Y/n…I have always—your father and I, we made it a priority to raise you with the belief system you carry now..It was always his most important duty in life. He just wanted you to be okay. To be strong like you are…”

He was rambling, for the life of you, you couldn’t recall another time you had ever seen him rambling.

“He knew, we both knew that you should never get to a place where you’re forced to compromise your morals. It’s the reason he was the man he was. It made him great. And I tried my best to learn everything I could from him, Y/n I really did. But I’ve had to accept that I am not as good a man as he was.”

“Eric,” you interrupted, “what are you talking about, what’s the problem?”

He glanced over to the door then, then leaned forward, coaxing you to do the same.

“I asked him to find Kovac. And Clark called me a few months ago. He didn’t say how or when or where, but Kovac is—he’s dead…”

His words settled onto the room, you weren’t sure why but you didn’t feel anything.

“If it were anyone else, any other scum, I would have called him in. At least I like to think I would have. But the day, that you sat right there,” he pointed at your chair, you could have sworn his voice broke. “And I heard what he did to you. Did to your team. And I saw—how it broke you…I would have done anything. And when Clark called me that day it had to be one of the best moments of my life. I’m not proud of that, right now.”

You watched him as he spoke, but couldn’t quite find the words to say back. But while the words may not have been there, the emotion was. You were, relieved.

“I told him to lay low. Gave him an alibi. But he’s been calling Y/n. He said he needs you to know where he is.”

He hadn’t slept in weeks. Most days he rarely even left the room, but after sending you that message,  he couldn’t help but think how much you had to hate him. He had spent so much time convincing himself that this would be it. That loving you would be the end to it all. The only thing he would ever need. He had shown you everything. And now all there was left was to wait. To lie on this bed and fight to convince himself that he wasn’t all the way gone.

He used to close his eyes and see the pain. See Kovac, barely even see himself. But now he’d reached this place where all he cared about, all that mattered was that he closed his eyes and saw you. It was only ever you. He wondered if you had ever done anything this bad. He couldn’t imagine you had, but even the faint idea that you might still see the person he used to be and not run helped him cope.

He had been gone long enough to avoid suspicion, but with every moment he opened his eyes he realized the only people he was hiding from was you and himself.

Today seemed so much softer than usual though. The morning sun felt warmer, the sea outside his window sounded quieter. And as he lied in bed, his eyes drifted over to the door, where an unexpected knock grabbed his attention.

He took weighted steps towards the door. He had been here before, the flicker of hope just before turning the knob and finding that it wasn’t you. But still it was there, at the back of his mind, just hoping to see your eyes one more time.

He stood silently, motionless in the doorway. Just looking down at you. Your windblown hair fell around your face, your eyes searched his but neither of you said a word. His were concealing, yours were searching. But this long without you made it unbelievably easy to let you in. He didn’t want any other option.

“I didn’t think you would come.” Those words held more than you were prepared to deal with, so you left them. They would still be there, but right now they could wait.

“I would have come whether I knew or not Clark.”

You took a step forward, moved around him into the room as he closed the door.

He turned then, searching for some kind of absolution.

“I wish that I could—honestly say that I’m sorry. But Y/n, I’m not. I hate that this hurt you—and if I could have found a way around that I would have. But I don’t, regret, what I did.”

You watched his eyes, saw more to him than you ever had before. “I know that Clark,” you considered it for only a moment before placing your hand to his cheek, “You can’t hide here forever though. And if it’s me you’re afraid of losing, or if it’s yourself, I understand it. But I’m not going anywhere. You were, always, there. And now I’m here. I might be angry that you lied, that you left, that you kept this all from me, but Clark we both knew a long time ago that there was no running from each other.”

He closed his eyes into your palm, he was afraid to move. To open his eyes and find that none of this was real. But when he did he saw you. Not an ounce of anything but the truth in your eyes.

He pulled you close then, wrapped his arms around you and breathed you in. This time as he closed his eyes he finally saw ahead. He saw you and he saw himself back at his home, falling asleep and waking up together, he saw it all, and this time it felt real.

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