Couple(s): Chloe/Lex

Rating: PG-13

Disclaimer: Everything but the plot belongs to someone other than me

Feedback: Constructive criticism and compliments are grand. By now everyone should know what I'll use flames for. :-)

Author's Note: Despite my best efforts, some of my own opinions regarding therapy infiltrated this chapter; I've had many horrible, counter-productive experiences with 'professional help', which is partly why I've made Chloe so adamantly against it. I'll try to keep my views to myself next time, though I don't know how Chloe will end up feeling about the whole thing.

What She Said

******

"Congratulations, Misses Luthor; it's a girl," a chipper nurse said brightly, gently handing Chloe a pink bundle.

Lex smiled weakly at his wife--determined not to let the child's paternity trouble him--and lowered the edge of the blanket...then he let out a gasp; their daughter had Guy's face. She/He let out a long wail, then pointed a chubby finger at Lex.

"You're not my father!" voices in his head yelled.

Turning to Chloe, he pleaded with her. Instead of listening, she was staring sadly at him. "She's not yours, Lex. You can't raise her. I'm sorry."

As he watched, helpless, his wife and her daughter vanished; leaving him in the hospital bed, sobbing...

******

Lex bolted upright in bed, shaking. Reaching for his wife--her presence always calmed him--he discovered she wasn't there. Before he could get worried, he heard the cries from down the hall. *Of course; she's with one of the kids*

Getting up, wrapping his black silk robe around his half-naked body, he plodded out of the room. John intercepted him halfway to Lena's room. "She just had a bad dream, Dad," he whispered.

*Didn't we all* He rested his hand on his son's shoulder, smiled. "Go back to bed; everything's alright."

"'kay." John shuffled toward his own room, rubbing his half-closed eyes.

Lex quietly entered his daughter's room, and found her in Chloe's embrace. Chloe was whispering mindless words to Lena, rocking her slowly. Lena's sobs were lessening, and she was obviously almost asleep.

"Everything okay in here?" he whispered, not wanting to sit, for fear Lena would awaken again.

With a nod, Chloe gently laid the girl down and covered her with a blanket. Only once they were in the master bedroom did she speak. "Yeah, she just had a nightmare about something. No big deal." Her eyes were heavy with sleep.

"I'm sorry you had to wake up," Lex continued, getting back into bed.

"Whatever; it happens." What she didn't tell him was that she'd already been up, following an awful dream of her own.

"It's almost five-thirty," he remarked, squinting at his bedside alarm clock. "I think I'll get up."

With a sigh, Chloe rolled over to face him. "Sure?" *Does it hurt you to sleep in the same bed with me?* was what she almost added, upon noticing the coolness in his tone.

Being the perceptive man that he was, he registered the almost-invisible fear in her eyes. He leaned over, gave her a tender kiss, then smiled. "I could use the company, if you don't feel like sleeping; it gets lonely in my office this early. But, really, I don't mind if you sleep."

"No, I might as well join you. We need to talk, anyway."

Hs entire body suddenly grew heavy as he climbed out of bed. "About what?" *Haven't we argued enough? Can't I go back to being your loving husband again?*

"Downstairs," she whispered.

******

Instead of falling onto the couch, arms tangled up together while they giggled, Lex and Chloe opted to sit on the pair of black leather chairs in front of the fireplace in his office. After lighting a fire, he began to talk, softly and with no emotion. "I'm sick of this, Clo; God knows how deeply I love you, and I want things to go back to the way they were. I'd do anything to have you be...*you* again."

In complete contrast, her voice was loud and angry. "It won't be like it was as long as I'm carrying another man's baby!"

His eyes flashed, though his tone remained the same. "Let the damn baby go for one bloody second, okay? I'm not simply talking about that, I'm talking about us." A pause, while he decided if it was too pathetic to ask. He steepled his fingers, leaned his elbows on his knees. "Do you still love me?"

Chloe blinked, taken aback by the abrupt question. "What?"

"You heard me the first time."

The fact that she didn't answer right away was either good or bad; he wasn't sure what to make of her hesitation. *On one hand,* he told himself, *she could be making sure she still cares for me. On the other hand, she could be thinking about how to let me down gently. Oh, off it, Luthor; you're being pathetic.*

Finally, "I don't know, Lex."

"What don't you know?" he prompted, needing to hear the words from her lips. When she made a face, he added, "I want you to say it."

She rolled her eyes, becoming an angry as he was. "I don't know if I still love you, *Alexander*."

Overcome by conflicted feelings--anger, sadness, helplessness-he paced the length of the room ferociously. "That," he began, meaning her use of his full name, "was low." It was, more than anything, a painful sign that she meant what she said.

"Lex," she whispered, intercepting him halfway across the Persian rug, "I'm sorry."

He threw up his hands, almost yelling. "That's what I can no longer handle, Chloe! This...neurotic behavior isn't *you*! I understand you've been through a trauma, but that doesn't give you permission to use me as your proverbial punching bag! I want to be with you, to help you, but it boils down to this: either you go get help today, or I'll leave you."

Chloe swallowed nervously, averted her eyes to the floor. She found herself watching his shiny shoes while he continued along the floor. She wasn't hurt by his ultimatum; she'd known it would come sooner or later. What caused her pain was the thought that she'd made him suffer along with her. That wasn't what a loving wife did.

On her way out of the office, she stopped and looked him over; took in his familiar, lanky body that had been her constant companion for almost ten years. She still loved him; loved him with such a feverish passion that it killed her to see him so upset. A part of her had refused to let her say so to him.

"What is it?" he asked softly, noticing her staring at him.

She simply shook her head, not meeting his gaze, then quietly left the room. Lex's eyes followed her; deep in his gut he knew her departure signified something upon which he refused to dwell.

******

Martha, bless her, was awake when Chloe pulled into the farm's dirt driveway. She slowly extracted herself from the car, her stomach already feeling heavy. It was going to be one tough pregnancy; whether or not she and Lex were speaking by the time the child was born.

She trudged up the front steps of the charming yellow house that had been such a huge part of her teen years. Knocking rapidly on the door, she didn't have time to formulate a fake reason for stopping by.

"Chloe?" Martha asked more than stated, stepping onto the porch in a white t-shirt and loose gray pants. "Where's Lex? What's wrong? Did something happen?"

"I think I just ruined my marriage, Martha."

******

They had been fighting a lot; he had come to expect her to be neurotic. However, there was a strange finality about the way she'd been staring at him before she left. And it hurt him like hell. He knew he hadn't been the most sensitive man in the world, but there was nothing more he could do for her; she had to get help, otherwise he wouldn't be able to live with her. That was the reasoning behind the threat; to make her see that therapy was the last straw. They both knew he wouldn't ever leave.

It would kill him to leave her; he wouldn't be able to function. He knew it wasn't extremely healthy to rely on her for his happiness, but he refused to let a third woman slip away from him. Not to mention that she kept him in line; if it weren't for her, he would have been investigating Clark's past still, distancing his old friend even more.

Lex was fairly certain that she wanted to make things work; he was fairly certain that, in time, things *would* work. He just didn't think he could wait that long for his wife to return to her usual, indescribably wonderful self.

*I know I have to be emotionally there for her, and I believe I have been. But I can't continue to support her unless she tries to work through everything.* He finally stopped staring into the fire, and decided to do something productive; he hadn't focused on the plant for days. Lucky for him, there wasn't much to worry about, business-wise.

As soon as he sank into his chair, he dug around in a drawer for his address book. Pulling it out, he flipped to the section marked, 'Doctors'. There were many name he'd written down to placate her years before; when she'd hounded him to get help regarding his hatred of the late Lionel Luthor. Only three listed names belonged to women; locating the phone number of the first, he punched it into his cell phone.

"Hello, I'd like to set up an appointment for my wife."

******

The hot herbal tea was comforting. It gave her the strength to verbalize her fight with her husband. "I know I'm hurting him, Martha; I know it's selfish for me to assume that he'll continue to put up with me, just because he loves me. What I *don't* know is how I can fix everything."

Pouring herself a cup of tea, Martha lowered herself onto the chair next to her friend's. "I agree with him that you need to talk to someone. It's the only way."

Chloe's bright eyes narrowed. "I visited a therapist for six months--that's twenty-four sessions--after Mom died. I was twelve; all the 'professional' did was tell me that her death wasn't my fault. Damnit, I was fully aware that it wasn't my fault!" She banged her unoccupied fist against the table. Martha started, but said nothing.

"That was it; my father spent twelve hundred dollars--fifty bucks a week--so that I could be told, more than two dozen times, that I had nothing to do with Mom's death. I won't let someone take an hour to remind me that the rape wasn't my fault, either. I'll go home, make up with Lex, and forget everything. then, when the baby comes..." She trailed off, head in her hands. "God, I need help."

******

Doctor Bousch was a nice enough woman, though Chloe was less than comfortable when she sat in the unusually bright room. The first thing she noticed about the doctor was that she was the kind of person Younger Lex would have gone for, were she a foreign businessman's daughter. She was dark-haired, long-legged, and impossibly beautiful. Needless to say, Chloe was intimidated.

"Hello, Chloe. My name is Doctor Bousch, though you're welcome to call me Nadia." At least she didn't have an accent, and she was wearing a simple, beige business suit.

*'Nadia'. With a name like that, what's she doing listening to billionaires' wives babble about their problems?* "Hello," she muttered flatly, feeling extremely out of place in her jeans and black t-shirt.

Her thoughts drifted to the day before while Nadia went on about something. Chloe had returned from Martha's, found Lex waiting for her in his office, looking a bit more relaxed than he'd been when she'd left. Her stomach clenched; she was certain he was going to leave.

"I made you an appointment for tomorrow afternoon," he said calmly, clasping her hand.

Setting her jaw, she stepped away from him. "What the hell? You *know* how I feel about doctors, Lex! I can't believe you did that without even consulting me. Do you suddenly control my life? I won't go." She crossed her arms, frowned at him.

Lex had expected her to refuse. "It's the only way, Clo." He'd gotten up from his desk, kissed her mouth for several seconds, then went back to work. The discussion was closed; she had to go, whether or not she actually wanted to.

Back to the present. Nadia was smiling quizzically at her, apparently waiting for an answer to a question Chloe hadn't heard. "Chloe? Are you listening? I asked you why you're here."

*Because my husband's always right; because I love him, even though he can't help me anymore* "Aren't you supposed to tell *me* why I'm here?" Yes, it was immature, but Chloe didn't think cooperation would get her anywhere.

To her credit, Nadia simply smiled, jotted something on a bright yellow legal pad. "Your husband said you two are having marriage troubles because of something that happened to you. Why don't we start there?"

*Gee, thanks, Lex* "Before I say anything else, I have to know: he didn't pay you to tell him what we talk about, did he? If he did, you have to let me know." Weariness overcame Chloe in a flood, and she leaned against the back of the plaid couch, unable to lean forward.

Nadia was writing again; the reporter in Chloe had half a mind to grab the notepad from the doctor's manicured hands and make sure Nadia wasn't getting the wrong idea. However, she sat on her hands--literally--and waited.

"No, everything is fully confidential. Your husband said that it was a struggle to get you to come. Why's that?" Her head tilted, spilling long, silky brown hair into her eyes. Chloe was strangely reminded of Lana Lang.

"Because my mother died when I was twelve, and I was forced to endure therapists for six months. It was one of the worst experiences of my life." She was too tired to fight.

"Was the therapy or your mother's death the worst experience of your life?" the doctor asked calmly.

"What?" Chloe snapped.

"The way you phrased it, I'm not sure which experience you meant to be the worst of your life."

*Oh, my God. This woman is insane.* "The therapy, thank you. I'm only here because Lex thinks it's the right thing for me to do."

This piqued Nadia's interest. "You're married to Lex Luthor?"

With a sigh, Chloe nodded.

"Tell me how it's going."

"Why do you care?" *Do you have unrequited feelings for him?*

Leaning forward and touching Chloe's knee, Nadia took a deep breath. "Chloe, this isn't going to be very productive if you keep fighting me. Don't you think you're being a little childish?" A reflective pause. "He said you're having marriage troubles, and I need to know why if I'm going to help you." There was just enough firmness in her tone to make Chloe sit up a little straighter.

"I was raped a week or so ago. I'm pregnant because of it." She stopped, averted her eyes to her stomach. There was no way she could mention the murder; the first rule of therapy was that doctors had to report to the authorities if a patient threatened to, or did, commit murder. They weren't allowed to mention the patient's name, but it was still better safe than sorry. "Lex and I already have two children, and this pregnancy is threatening to tear us all apart."

Nadia took this all in stride. "Have you told the police about the rape?"

"It's all taken care of," Chloe returned smoothly, praying her nervousness didn't show in her eyes.

Pursing her lips, Nadia continued. "Don't take this the wrong way, but do you and Lex still have relations?"

She blushed. *'Relations'? Who the hell actually says that?* "Yes."

"Do you still love him?"

"Yes!"

Nadia rested her chin on her palm and sighed pensively. "So what you're saying is that this unwanted pregnancy is threatening to ruin your marriage because the child isn't Lex's?"

"I never said it was unwanted," Chloe said sharply.

More scribbling. "Could it be that you want this baby, and Lex feels betrayed?"

Chloe paused; she hated to admit that Nadia's logic made sense. "He said that, while he's uncomfortable with the thought of raising another man's baby, he'll be okay with it."

"What people say isn't always what they mean."

Before Chloe could say anything else, a timer went off on the table next to Nadia's chair. "Well, Chloe, our time is up; you did well. If you'd like to schedule another appointment, see my receptionist or call my office." A tan business card was pressed in Chloe's hand.

"Okay. Thanks."

She walked out of the office, feeling worse about things than she had going in.