Disclaimer: Yep, we all know the drill…Making no profit from this yada yada yada…Smallville, and Supergirl, and any other shows made mention of here, are the profit of those people who own them (grrrr, and How I hate them.) If I did own Smallville, why in all of the wacky planets in our universe would I be doing this... :)
Thank you to everyone who reviewed the last couple of chapters. This chapter has FINALLY been extended- thanks to all who reviewed up to this point. I have no apology goos enough, so I'll just post thisinstead...But thank you everyone, again!
Sugarburn:I liked your suggestions for the way that Clark and Kara should meet, and it warms the heart to hear such detail and thought given in your reply. Thank you once again, and I hope to hear your wonderful insight again soon. Tzoo-foo nee, mei-mei.
Doza: Once again, great to hear from you. I hope to earn more of your uplifting enthusiasm and energy with this chapter for the story to come. It's absolutely grastifying to an author to hear of the interest readers have for their story. Read on, and I hope you enjoy.
Jess:Okay confused: Seeing as though this is a kind of crossover between the Smallville universe, the Supergirl movie universe and the Supergirl comic strip universe, then the Matrix is sort of like a gigantic boost of energy that Kara gain when Linda and Kara joined, but lost when that energy passed to Twilight to save her life. Now, Kara's powers are more like Clark's present abilities while he's still developing. Lex Luthor here is based on the Smallville version and not the comic one. But thank you much for asking the question- It helps me write a more refined character (in truth I had to gasp check up on that answer after I read your review. ) Keep asking questions and your inquistiveness helps push the story to better than what it was before.
sgfan: I'm glad you like it:) Its great to hear your ideas and thoughts and the what the f& moment sounds like it might just do! I hope that the next chapter fends off just a little of that curiosity.
Hi: Well, thank you muchly for your responses. Your interest is lighting to the next path the story takes...Not to mention complete manna from heaven for an author to hear. It was incrediably joyous to hear your love for the story. I hope you like next installments.
Well, thank you all once again. YESSSSS! Below is the revised version of this Chapter- extended finally...Thank you God.
Enjoy...
CHAPTER SIX
SAME DAY
The hospital was crowded.
Too crowded. Overcrowded could not even begin to describe the outpourings of people streaming through the doors of the medical centre.
It gave off a sense of too many people, going in too many directions in one small space. Typically usual for a place such as Smallville General, but today it seemed that the hustle and bustle was multiplied. Times by three.
A truck had overturned on Ninth and Russel streets, and both the driver and several bystanders were being treated for chemical burns, concussions and other nasty scrapes and bumps.
Orderlies rushed about, and several doctors were barking orders at each other from across each of the gurneys cluttering the hallways of the first floor.
And then there was the waiting room, crowded with various family members and other less severe injuries were being sidelined until the crisis abated.
A young boy and his father stood off to one side, and the older cradled the wailing child close to his chest, careful not to touch his right arm, clearly broken as it dangled awkwardly at an odd angle.
A middle aged woman stood arguing at the desk, loudly and impatiently demanding to see her doctor, complaining to the poor, overwhelmed nurse beside her that her arthritis was acting up bad.
Bright, overhead fluorescent lighting cast an overly white glare to the walls and floor,
giving everything a look of sterile impartiality. Kara shifted, uncomfortable with the glare, the noise and overall crowding of the waiting room.
But she had been told by a very stern looking doctor to stay put, and she unconsciously found herself complying.
The trip itself was simple- easy, if not for the underlying current of severity.
Arriving at the hospital was not as easy.
Dodging and weaving through the crowds, she spied an empty gurney to the left of the front desk- directly behind a line of orderlies, big, burly and looking quite annoyed.
Great.
Discretely, she swivelled her head, and spying no video surveillance, she launched into a jump at super-speed, neatly clearing the narrow space over the orderly's heads, and tucking into a crouching position behind the gurney itself. The boy in her arms had been silent for most of the trip, but now she found him wide awake and staring at her, eyes shining with the fever, and something else she couldn't describe.
"Who are you?"
The whispered awe in his voice sent a slightly rosy glow to her cheeks. As smoothly as possible, she turned, cautiously lowering the boy onto the thin comfort of the mattress, a crinkle of worry prominent from her brow. He looked bad, to say the least. Kara laid a hand on his shoulder, as he tried to rise.
"No. Stay still," she told him. "You're not ready to get up just yet."
Turning she caught sight of a middle aged man in a white lab coat, just exiting a room to the right of the waiting room chaos. Rushing over to him, she threw caution to the wind, and grabbed his arm.
Easy, go easy Danvers! Forcing a polite smile, she looked into the man's shocked expression as he tried to pull his arm away. He spluttered; face turning an interesting shade of red. "What…what are you doing? Let go of me or I'll call secur…"
"I'm sorry," Looking anything but, she dragged him, protesting through the dashing and darting chaos, to the gurney and the young man, now scarily still. Prodding the man forward, she ordered, "Help him." She stared up, compelling the man, "Please!"
After several seconds of stillness, the man broke off his gaze, as if just then remembering where he was. He sucked in a breath, eyes assessing. "How did this happen?"
Kara's gaze snapped back up to the man's face, worry giving way to a rising wave of
panic. The panic must have showed because the man clarified his statement. "Did you or anyone else see how he received his injuries?"
Mostly from me. Swallowing a surge of bile, Kara shook her head, not trusting her own words to lie as convincingly as usual. At the man's frown, she coughed. "No."
"But he has several stress fractures in his back, slight internal bleeding and his head is swelling from a bruise on the muscle above his left eye." The doctor stared again, his professional mask slipping away to disbelief. Shaking his head, he poked and prodded the young man before him.
After a moment, she chanced a look at his face again. His mouth was opening and closing in some kind of internal debate.
The next time he spoke, his voice was hushed, confused. "How on earth would you know this? I don't understand, are you some kind of doctor?
Kara could have slapped herself in that instant. How could she have been so stupid? Setting her mouth grimly, she pushed the question aside. "Yeah, some kind of! Can you help him?"
"Sure. Ah, nurse, thank you I need your assistance here. Now please." He turned to Kara, whose eyes never left the relaxed face of the young man now being wheeled away. "Miss?"
Kara stood silent, face expressionless as she watched the gurney disappear around a corner. "Miss?" Unhearing, she was lost inside her own world of self-recrimination.
Tapping her shoulder, he leaned over, concerned. Hugging herself, she slowly turned to face him, eyes in turmoil.
"You need to talk to the nurse over there and fill out paperwork." He looked at her, eyes narrowing into slits, assessing silently. "I understand you may be experiencing some shock…"
What was I doing? I have better control than this…
"…But you need to find a seat, and wait."
What was I thinking? I could have killed him, I was so angry, I should have had noticed…
"…Miss, Did you hear what I just said?"
Nodding her head numbly, she took the files from the nurse's outstretched hand, and let herself be lead blindly into the waiting room, amidst the throes of people. She sat down, head bent forward deceptively as her ears picked up the whispered command between doctor and nurse, like it was through a microphone.
"Watch her. She might still be in shock…"
Comical disbelief sent her head shooting up, and she sent the handful of papers skittering all over the waiting room floor. Both nurse and doctor sent slanting, 'I-knew-it' stares in her direction, and after another moment, the nurse came over with an overly sugary smile on her face. Kara didn't know whether to laugh or glare.
Gathering up the papers from the floor, the nurse handed them to her. "Here you go dear. If you have any problems…"
Like if I'm afraid I went and got too involved with a victim I just met…
"…I'll be over there." She gave Kara one more assessing glance, then shifted her considerable weight on her heel, and dodged back to the nurse's station.
The papers felt weighty in her lap, but she stared down at them like they were live snakes, and after a long stare had to quell the rings of fire burning behind her eyes. Reducing the papers to a flaming pile of ashes on the waiting room floor might just tip someone off to her actual origins.
A pity. To her horror, quelling the building heat wasn't working, and she had to clench her eyes shut as a last resort. Hissing out through clenched teeth, she forced herself to relax, and slowly, the blinding streaks of pain across the darkness ceased.
"Tissue?"
A quiet, soothing voice pierced the hollow silence, and she opened her eyes to stare in surprise, at the owner. Blinking away the teary blur, she watched a hand came into view, holding a lone tissue, and held it there for several seconds before Kara reached out to take it.
Taking half-hearted swipes at her eyes so that the person wasn't offended, she turned to thank them only to meet the smiling, wide eyes of a young woman. Shoulder length blonde hair framed a pretty oval face, dominated by a set of green eyes and an infectious big grin.
Kara, speechless for the first time in a while, nodded by way of thanks, mentally correcting the image she had expected of a middle aged mother to add this new information. "Thanks."
The young woman shrugged, "It's okay. I keep plenty in my bag for those 'come and go' teary eye moments."
Kara really didn't want to start another conversation, but tried to keep her disinterest out of her reply. "I guess…" An awkward pause sent them both into silence.
Feeling bad, Kara tried to joke. "So what about that nurse huh? For a second I thought she was gonna force feed me ice chips!" The young woman grinned wider at that, if it were possible, and threw a quick glance over to the nurse's station, to meet the frowning glare of one of the orderlies there.
But the young woman simply returned it with an equally venomous glare of her own. "Well, it's better than them wanting to put you on ice, believe me!"
"Are you waiting to hear some news or…"
"Oh, no, nothing quite so chronic. I'm here just gathering information on the cars verses truck collision on Ninth and Russell." She gave a grand sweeping gesture with one arm. "Hence the overcrowded chaos."
A tiny spiral of panic flittered across Kara's face before she squelched it. "Oh. Are you a cop?" As soon as the question came out it just hung in the air between the two, and Kara felt like a complete idiot.
The young woman shook her head laughing. "Well, no-one's ever accused me of being overly law-abiding enough for that line of work. But I'm merely a reporter for a local paper: The Torch. People call me Chloe, Chloe Sullivan if you're being overly snooty." Chloe flashed another smile.
Kara too, broke into a grin and extended her hand. "Kar…I mean Linda Lee-Danvers. New-to-Towner. "
"Well, Miss Lee-Danvers," Chloe put on a mock-serious reporter's voice. "How do you like Smallville so far?"
Kara shrugged, playing along. "Okay I guess. Kind of slow though."
The pair shared a grin, before settling back down into their seats. A call from the front desk brought their heads up. "Ah, Miss Sullivan, Dr Burke will see you now."
"That's me." Gathering up her back, she stood, hefting it onto one shoulder before turning back to her companion.
"I guess saying that 'we should do this again sometime' sounds rather contrite given the givens, huh?"
Chloe laughed in response. "In Smallville, I'd say given the given's…I'll probably see you around anyway."
Walking over to the desk, she paused, swirling back to wave slightly at Kara from her vantage point near the halls. "I hope your boyfriend is okay," with a mysterious smirk curving her mouth, she disappeared into the crowds.
Slightly off-put, Kara frowned. He's not my boyfriend.
Turning back to the papers in her lap, she stared at them for a moment. Then like an audible click in her head, the comment brought her jumping off the seat, and startled.
Breath heaving, she looked around. Oh Shit, oh shit! She saw me. She saw me.
Bad, bad, BAD! Kara spun, headed to the exit before she could blink, reigning in the mounting panic blinding her of rational thought. I have to get out of here…But, the guy.
Not pausing in her stride she was out the automatic doors and halfway across the parking lot, when she stopped, and suddenly rammed into on the side. Stumbling she latched onto the nearest thing within reach: Fabric.
Kara steadied herself, breathing in and out methodically, when she realised that the fabric was still in her hands. Cringing slightly, her eyes moved upwards, from mud crusted Doc Martins, faded jeans, and definitively stark plaid patterned shirt, to…
"Sorry." The muttered apology met with an amused pair of blue eyes. Stepping back, she suddenly realised her tight grip on the fabric had caused a very long tear. Great, another power malfunction.
Wonderful, I hope that wasn't his favourite shirt.
"It's okay, but are you okay?" The boy looked a little over nineteen years old, but Kara could see an innocent concern crinkling out from the corners of his eyes. Overall she would have dismissed him as pure Kansas farm boy if not for the grip he had on her arm.
Yeouch! If she had been human, that grip would almost definitely leave a bruise, but as it was, her skin felt the pressure like a tickle. "I'm fine…thanks though. Sorry about the shirt."
"Sure." Clark studied the girl for a second, before smiling. "Sorry, about the bump."
Nodding slightly, she rubbed her arm, and turned back to the car park at a run. Dodging and weaving by all the parked cars, and those pulling in, she waited until she'd gotten well beyond the stretch of trees by the road before launching herself into the air.
Once airborne, she checked over her shoulder at the hospital, then her wristwatch, trying to ignore the nagging guilt over her sudden departure had on the boy she'd left there.
Realising just how late she was, she jolted forward in a burst of speed, determined to make her first day in Smallville High uneventful. As if it hasn't been already!
Clark watched the girl as she disappeared beyond the tree line, slowly shaking off the weird spike of deja-vu he'd just experienced. Sparing a glance down at his shirt, he grimaced wondering how to explain this latest clothing mishap to his mother.
Turning back to the doors of the hospital he picked up Chloe's whispered strain. "Clark, where are you? Hurry up!" With one eyebrow raised at the annoyance in her voice, he squinted, x-raying the complex, and found her form huddled inside an office on the first floor.
He grinned: once Chloe had found out his secret she had ditched the old mobile phone system, and simply relied on Clark's super hearing to carry any important messages across the distances between them.
Throwing one final glance back at the direction the girl had taken, he headed toward the doors, notebook in hand. Looks like Smallville has taken another step towards crazy this morning.
Stepping into the chaotic masses of the waiting room, he searched out Chloe, letting the automatic doors of the front entrance close behind him.
Outside, the car park was slightly shaken by a distant sonic boom in the sky which quickly dissipated into the surrounding silence of the landscape.
George woke up at the hospital, not really feeling much of anything. As far as he could tell, one of his legs wasn't responding to his repeated attempts at movement, and it wasn't long before he realised why. Craning his neck forwards, he stared down in horror to find that his right leg was sealed in plaster up to the knee.
What the hell…His head felt strange, like it was stuffed with cotton, and as he shifted upright on the pillows, a startling clear set of images rose in front of his eyes.
"What's the best way to get the police called?"…
…"You wanted to crank the volume on this sucker, and hope somebody in the vicinity hears, and calls the cops," George finished, as his head jerked up with realisation, finally understanding… "Good idea."
…The walls shuddered, and the pallets standing at the other end of the room, began to quake. A silent screaming filled the air, and pierced through the soft cushioning of the headphones….
It was metal on metal; a horrible vibrating that shook the two boys with such force they were thrown to the floor. His friend's mouth was stretched in a thin white line, and a small trickle of blood dripped out his nose.
…It was as if the entire room had sucked in a breath. Somewhere deep inside the motherboard, feedback collided and the wiring snapped. "Oh shi…"
Time froze; a terrific thunder rang through the cave, as the motherboard exploded in a great flash of fire and light. Then there was chaos….
He remembered; flashing red lights, and being loaded into the back of an ambulance. He had woken in the cave, a medic looking him over, unable to do anything, except groan at the jack-knifing pain drumming through his skull.
Troy… He sat up then, ignoring a slight bout of dizziness. What happened to Troy?
"Good, you're awake." The voice filtered in from the shadows, and he jumped, unaware of another person in the room until then. The figure rose, and shifted, moving forward through the darkness to stand at the foot of the bed.
The man looked familiar to George. He had never met him, but the face was nagging his subconscious. The man continued, unconcerned with George's scrutiny. "Your parents have been quite concerned; they'll be relieved you're finally awake."
George was confused. "Are you a doctor?"
Whoever he was, the stranger seemed to find that rather amusing. Chuckling, he reached into his jacket pocket, fishing out a business card, passing over to George with a swift flick of the hand.
"No."
"I represent…certain other parties, also concerned with your…swift recovery."
The embossed finish of the card screamed money, and he held it in his fingers, brow wrinkled until the words stopped shifting in and out of focus. He blinked, reading then re-reading the name centralised in small caps on the back.
"LexCorp Industries…Is this for real?"
The man regarded him with a serious expression, saying nothing for several seconds.
"Yes, it is quite real. This room and your expenses at the hospital are covered, in care of Luthor enterprises." George's eyes widened at that. "Why," he blurted without thinking.
"I mean, I'm just grateful…" he apologised. "But this is all so surreal! Why would LexCorp give a damn about a causal employee?"
Silence stilled the moment; George realised he'd just broached a very touchy subject, but was beyond a point where he cared much.
"How much," the man picked his words carefully, and it was in that moment George realised he was dealing with a lawyer. Great, just great. "…Do you remember about the accident at the mines?"
He frowned, mind still clouded, memories blurring into a sea of haziness, and shrugged. "Not very much, sorry. Just bits and pieces." As the man nodded, then opened his mouth again, George felt a spiral of panic surge in his stomach.
"We didn't do anything wrong; Troy and I- we didn't do anything bad. I swear."
The man merely smiled, tossing the declaration aside. "Yes, we've determined the causes of the explosion already."
Explosion? The image of being tossed across the room, fire roaring at his back came rushing into clarity. Oh, yeah. That's what that was.
"It seems the fault lies almost entirely on the wiring system. So you and your friend are off the hook; Don't worry."
George shook his head; something wasn't being said, he knew it. Jumping ahead, he questioned the man as he moved to the exit, standing in the doorway, mobile in hand.
"Wait," he called, voice anxious, "What happened to Troy? Is he alright? Is he here?"
The pause felt, to George, like it was sucking all the air from the room, and once again the man shot him an assessing stare. Then he sighed, answering tersely.
"Mr Mullins arrived here early this morning; he's still in surgery at this time."
"But he's going to be alright, isn't he?" George leaned forward, gripping the edge of the bed, knuckles white.
"He shows all the signs of making a full recovery."
Good. Thank God. George exhaled, relief crashing down like a wave, and for the first time since he woke up he smiled. Suddenly a nurse came bustling in, and the man stood aside, punching in a number with grim efficiency.
George's attention shifted, as the woman moved about, checking his vitals and adjusting the drip in his arm, smiling down at him when she felt his eyes on her. He smiled in return, feeling the drugs take effect almost immediately.
He didn't see the man leave; relaxing bonelessly into the pillows, he felt sleep creeping up on him. Eyes drifting closed, he could've sworn he'd heard another sound- a distinctive booming that shook the window panes slightly, then fading out.
George sent a prayer up as he fell asleep, hoping that the Gods who'd been looking out for them, weren't going anywhere. Then blackness took over, and his head nodded backward, breathing evening out.
Everything would be okay now.
As soon as the coffee cup hit the table, Chloe knew the interview was over. Wiping all expression off her features, she looked across the table, giving an equally icy look to the man in the opposite chair, to whom she'd been forced to listen to for over a half hour, spouting nonsense about the Hospital budget. Smoothly ducking all her questions with more questions, and avoiding all her attempts to steer the conversation back to where she'd wanted.
Swallowing her anger, she smiled, nodding to his inquiry to refill her cup. As he rose, and turned back to the coffee machine in the corner, she had the sudden urge to yell at his back, completely frustrated.
And for Chloe, completely frustrated meant one thing; when Clark eventually showed up, he'd be dealing with one very pissed off reporter, not to mention one very stodgy Hospital Administrator. She wondered how her super powered friend would cope with that.
Chloe stamped her foot in irritation. Eight o'clock, Clark, damn it. For the umpteenth time, she discretely moved her sleeve back to check her wristwatch, its silver face telling her the almost exact same thing it had over one minute ago. 8:29 switched over to 8:30am, and she pursed her lips in agitation.
Desperately, she whispered, "Clark, where are you? Hurry up!"
"What?" Her companion half turned. "Did you say something?"
Clearing her throat, she shook her head, half of her hoping another person had heard her besides him. "Sorry, no."
Oh, what I am going to do to you, Clark Kent, when you finally decide to Speedy Gonzales your way here…Just as she was dreaming up several dismemberment scenarios, gratefully accepting the steaming cup from the Mr Greer, as he sat back down, the doorknob turned.
It surprised the pair enough to stand up, Chloe smoothing out her trousers, setting the cup down on the table, knowing through a weird sixth sense developed from nineteen years in Smallville, just who was on the other side of that door.
As Clark blew in, apologising laughingly as he took a seat next to Chloe, she let out a relieved whoosh of breath, and relaxed into the chair. Mr Greer stood opposite them, making small chat for a few moments, then sat down again, frowning once he realised the interview had been revived again.
Leaning over slightly, she caught Clark's eyes, and led then down to what she'd been scribbling on her notebook before he'd arrived. In her small, cursive she'd written plainly: 'This guy is a complete spin jockey!' repeatedly, in the centre of the page.
Looking up again, the pair shared a smile. Clark shifted, bringing a miniature recorder from his pocket to the table, letting it sit there for several seconds, unexplained. As Mr Greer's eyes drifted down to squint, mildly surprised at the item, Clark began to speak.
"Mr Greer, would it be possible to tape the following interview? Just in case we were to misinterpret something you might mention, accidentally of course…"
Mr Greer was slightly off put. "Well, now…I'm not…I guess it would be fi…"
"Great," Clark pushed forward, his mouth titling upwards, posture relaxed. "So, to open, Mr Greer, how would you explain the recent budget cuts to staffing levels at the Hospital? Especially considering the implications it was to have, say, if an incident occurred. Much like the one downstairs, right now?"
As the man spluttered, indignant, Chloe moved her hand up, hiding her smile. The interview would be okay now, she projected happily, before she began speaking.
"And isn't it also true, sir, that recently several staff members were unfairly fired because of their inquiries into the matter?" Her face hardened, while she gleefully clapped her hands internally at the look of sweaty desperation now emanating from the 'Artful Dodger' sitting opposite, obviously uncomfortable as he tugged at his tie.
"Well, hold on…what are you…I don't…how did you find…"
Yep, Chloe smiled, this interview is going to be okay, now.
Thanks all- once again. And once again, Clark and now, after a word from our Sponsers, LexCorp, a new version of the Segeath doll, complete with dripping fangs will be available (to the doll: You're soooo cute, yes you are- )Ummm, side note: No responsiblility is held by the suppliers should the doll come to live with an evil agenda...Kryptonite not included.
