Clark wakes in the middle of the night, often. Last night, he was clinging on to me, his hand tight on my arm. I have the bruises to show for it, which of course I have kept hidden from him. That's the last thing he needs to see.
I can't fix this. It's all I can do to get him to leave the enclose of my city apartment. He won't go back to his home town. The only person he seems willing to confide in is Chloe. Irrationally, I find myself jealous of the trust he puts in her. I see his muscles relax when he is with her. Somehow, I cannot do that for him.
But he is depending on me, too, and whatever role I can fill for him, I will.
I know it was not me who did this to him. Still, my flesh and blood. I feel responsible. If I think about it too long, my head begins to pound, my neck aches, and I want to throw things, to break them. In those moments, I regret that my angel stopped my revenge.