Work Text:
you had known clark kent long before you knew what love was. he was a constant -- the constant -- in your life, the sound of his giggles, his laughter, his arms around you, lifting you up to the skies, his hand holding yours in a firm grip as he pulled you up a tree branch.
the way he says your name.
so when you both became budding teenagers, the realization that you had grown to love clark kent in a way that was more than just platonic, more than a childhood crush, it felt...natural. like it was the natural progression of things -- of course it was meant to happen.
you thought it was the same for him. one day, soon, clark will realize his feelings for you too, and you will both be on the same page as to where your relationship stands.
that was what you kept holding on to, even as you uprooted your life in smallville and followed clark to metropolis, because that was what friends do.
and one day he starts going on and on about his new coworker, lois, about how she was just beautiful and perfect and smart and fearless and...
every word felt like a knife stabbed into your heart.
suddenly, it was like the music stopped. whatever fantasy you had in your head just...shattered...and it was like you were seeing clark for the first time. he was smiling at you, beaming, in anticipation.
"well?" he asked. you blinked multiple times, trying to remember what he had just been talking about like your entire world just hadn't collapsed right under your feet.
"i think you should do it," you told clark with a terse smile. "i think you should ask lois out."
his smile had gotten wider, and he nodded to himself, like your permission/opinion was the last piece of reassurance he needed. and when he planted a kiss on your forehead, your felt yourself die a little.
"thank you, love. you're the best."
-
you don't know how you came across this metahuman. all you knew, from exhaustive research (looking at obscure internet blogs of broken hearted people experiencing unrequited love) was that their powers worked. it can work on you, or the person you were in love with.
"what is your choice?"
do you choose to forget clark? all the memories of have of him, so entangled with your life that you couldn't even imagine a sliver of memory without him in it.
no, perhaps not.
but perhaps...he can forget you. painful as it may seem, but the idea of clark kent forgetting a small, insignificant bit of his past, is a small price to pay for your peace...and his future. you also think, more to yourself, that it would keep his identity safe, the less people who (he thinks) knows his identity, the better.
"take away his memories," you tell the metahuman.
-
now, all the memories of clark kent and his childhood friend reside only in your head. carefully hidden, preserved, and never to be touched. never to be hurt.
-
only...
maybe you weren't as insignificant to clark as you thought you were. that maybe your life was as entangled to his.
it started when clark was walking home to his apartment, watching as a moving truck was leaving the complex. his landlord casually mentioning a newly-vacated apartment across his.
then at night, a scent. reminding him so much of smallville, of home, of broken branches and hay bales, and the grass and fields he used to run on.
then, a voice.
a child's. giggles and cries, and shouts of his name.
"pick me up again, clark!"
older now.
"i will follow you anywhere, clark, you know that. i love you."
he jolts up from bed, heart racing. clark brings his hand up to his chest, grasping, clawing at the empty space of where something--someone--used to be. there's no one there anymore.
but he can hear you. your voice. he can never get away from it.
the sound of your voice haunts him.
and imagine one day, superman, as he patrols metropolis, hears your voice. what would he do?