Disclaimer: Reading this story may cause dizziness.
Summary: Big One Oh. Yay! Chloe knocks off some stuff off of the soon to be infamous checklist.
A/N: I'm sleepy. I might put up chapter seven sometime soon, so you can see how behind I am in posting. Or maybe how ahead I am in writing. Depends on how you look at it. I'll probably post when I get 25 reviews, but by the time this chapter comes up that point will be moot. So I'll stop typing about it. Anyway, happy tenth birthday, Just Shut Up Already, may you have at least ten more before I forget about you completely.
I'd start from the top of my list but seem to have misplaced my laptop (gasp!) so, I'm just going to start with the first one that I remembered. Too bad that it's the scariest one on the list. Which is probably why I've had it on my mind all night. Of the hundred plus things I thought up for the list, seeing Mom is by far the scariest thing I will ever have to do.
It's six AM on a Wednesday morning. Wednesday is far better then Tuesday which was far better then Monday.
I drive toward Metropolis. Did I mention that it's six AM? Yeah. I'm up early. I've got so much to do in the two or three days I have left. This all depends on whether that murderer guy plans on killing me in the morning, afternoon, or night. He didn't really specify.
I spent all last night avoiding Clark. Well, I was avoiding people in general, but mostly Clark. I ran into him twice, but abruptly ran away each time. He wants to investigate who wants to kill me, but I'd rather save that for later.
That's by far the most dangerous thing on my list and I'd rather keep that for later. I don't want to die before getting a few things done first.
So I'm on the highway, making my way to Sunny Farm Insane Asylum. I somehow think that it won't be as welcoming as it sounds.
The guy in the car next to mine is talking to himself while doing a mini version of the macarena. I try to get away from his car but he is unavoidable. I speed up, he speeds up. I move into the next lane over, he copies me. I'm worrying now. This happens ever time I drive. Some crazy dude has to be going to the same exact place I am.
He turns his head and smiles at me. I see that he has a portable phone device thingy in his ear, but this doesn't comfort me much. But it does remind me to check my phone messages.
I keep one eye on the road and the other on my phone. I have eleven messages.
Message one, 4:36: "Chloe? It's Clark. Please call me back. It's important."
Message two, 5:08: "It's me again. Clark. I did some researching and it seems that Lionel Luthor has been in contact with the guy who wrote the note. I'm on my way over to talk to him. You were right about Lionel not being a changed man. I shouldn't have asked you to help me with my investigation. And I shouldn't have taken up the investigation in the first place. I'm sorry. I'll call you back. Call me if you get the message before I call you."
The crazy guy gets off at the stop ahead of mine. Too bad, he would have been a welcome addition to Sunny Farm.
Message three, 6:15: "Lionel's doing that thing where he pretends that he has no idea what I'm talking about. It must be a Luthor tradition. I don't know what to do next. I feel like I've hit a wall, there is no more leads. The police aren't helping, but what else is new? Please call me back. Oh yeah, and this is Clark."
Message four, 6:18: "Miss, Sullivan," Lionel's voice gets creepier everyday. "Mr. Kent visited me just a few minutes ago. If you want some information, talk to me. I'll tell you everything you want to know."
I promptly delete the message.
I get off at my exit. Sunny Farm should be only a seven-minute drive from here, according to MapQuest.
Message five, 7:00: "Chloe Sullivan? This is Officer Dan. We ran the note for fingerprints, but didn't find any. As far as we can tell this is just some prank from a fellow student, but since Lionel Luthor has been released we'll still watch out for anything. But I don't think you have anything to worry about."
Sigh.
Message six, 7:01: "It's Clark again. I'm getting frustrated here. Please call me back."
Message seven, 8:25: " I saw you on the street, Chloe," Clark says. "Why did you run away? Please call me. I'll be at home for the rest of the night."
Message eight, 9:10: "Come on, Chloe. There is no reason to avoid me." He sighs. "We need to talk."
That must have been the second time I ran away. Staying at home the rest of my night? Yeah right.
Message nine, 9:57: "No me gusta!"
Wrong number.
Message ten, 10:15: "Chloe, it's your father. Where are you? Your curfew was fifteen minutes ago, I'm worried. Where are- Oh nevermind, here you are."
I giggle to myself.
I stop the car in the parking lot of Sunny Farm. I listen to the last message.
Message eleven, 12:01: "Three days left," a deep voice says. "Hopefully they'll be eventful."
I open the door of the car. I refuse to think about that last message, but my legs don't move. I close the door again and dial Clark's number.
"Hello?" Mrs. Kent's sunny voice rings out.
"It's Chloe."
"Oh," she says. She attempts to cover up the receiver but doesn't do such a great job because I can hear her clearly. "Jonathan, wake up Clark."
"Let the boy sleep, Martha. You know how late he was up."
"Chloe is on the phone."
"Oh," Jonathan says. And the conversation ends there.
A few seconds later, "Chloe?" Clark's voice sounds almost panicked.
"That's my name, don't wear it out." I am so lame.
"Did you get my messages?"
"Oh, did you leave me a message? I must have missed it. Some crazy friend of mine left six messages on my cell phone."
"I was worried."
"Don't be. I'm going to be fine. I just have to deal with some stuff first. We'll get to the bottom of all of this stuff."
"How can you be so patient and calm?"
"Lots of practice."
"This shouldn't be the sort of thing that we are use to."
"I know," I say.
"I'll pick you up for school, if you want. We can try to find some leads together. Two heads are better then one."
"There is no denying that." I chuckle. "But I won't be at school today."
"What? Why not?"
"I have some stuff to deal with today. I'll try to be back later today. I need you to do me a favor."
"Sure."
"I got a call from the note writer. He says that I have three days to live. I want you to call Verizon and tell them to trace a call that I got at about midnight last night."
"I will."
"Thanks. I'll see you later."
"Wait." I wait. "This guy has your phone number now. The next thing you know, he'll have your house keys. Be careful."
"I will."
I hang up and if by magic, my legs work again. I get out of the car. I look at my watch. It's now 7:15 AM. Right on time. Funny how things work out that way.
"Hi, I'm Chloe Sullivan," I say to the nurse at the front desk. "I have an appointment to see my mother."
"Sullivan… Sullivan… Sullivan" she repeats as she looks down a list of names and finds mine. "Just this way."
I follow her. She doesn't seem as angry as I expected. Dateline always told me that the people at these kind of places are mean and like to beat their patients. But I guess you can't trust every journalist's word.
Maybe this isn't such a bad place for Mom to be. I throw away all plans to have her escape.
"I have to warn you," the nurse says. "She may seem a little sleepy. It's all the medication that she's on. But she'll hear everything you say. I don't know how much of it she'll understand but that's because of the disease, not the medication."
"I understand. I'm here more for me then I am for her."
"That's not a bad idea. You know, on her good days she talk about you a lot."
"She does?"
"All the time. You are just as beautiful as she described you."
"Thank you," I say. I'm instantly ashamed of all the times I thought my mother abandoned or forgot me. Even if I were to leave right now, this trip would be worth it.
The nurse leaves and within another minute Mom comes marching in, wearing white and pink hospital clothes.
"Mom?"
She sits down on a blue couch. I sit in front of her in a white plastic chair that looks like a clone of a chair that was in Bob's.
"Do you know who I am?" I ask.
"My daughter," she says. Her speech is slow and she speaks with no emotion whatsoever. "The nurse told me."
"Oh good."
"Did Gabe send you?"
When she says Dad's name I twitch a little. Seeing her makes me just a little more angry with Dad for keeping her from me.
"Dad? No. I came on my own."
"He told me that you'd be here."
"Dad called you?"
"Gosh no! Gabe wants the wolves to howl all night. Twelve plus Twelve told me."
"I don't understand."
She rolls her eyes. "Of course you wouldn't. You're too young."
"I'm eighteen, you know."
"Third year in a row."
If there was any doubt in my mind, it's gone. She's crazy.
"I want to say something, Mom." I pull the chair closer to her. "I'm so glad that this happened to you instead of me." She tilts her head to the side. Did that sound as conceited to her as it did to me? "That is, I'm glad that you don't have to see me like this. This pain I feel seeing you here isn't something I would ever want to put onto anybody else.
"So if I have to go through all this sadness to save you or Dad or Clark or anybody else from it, I guess it's worth it."
"Gabe doesn't like my Mac and Cheese."
Maybe she doesn't understand what I've just said, but now I feel like a philosopher. It's good to feel those selfish feelings of thankfulness in times sadness. It's great that I feel sad, because it means that I'm still alive. Which means that my dad and friends won't feel sadness over my death.
I guess that doesn't really make a lot of sense unless you're in my head. But I suddenly, care a great deal about not dying on Friday.
I smile at Mom. "I'm sure your Mac and Cheese is great."
"No. No it isn't."
I let out a laugh. I let her talk for a while. She talks a lot about a guy named Twelve plus Twelve and somebody named Three plus Nineteen who she apparently likes a lot. I figure that these are people in the asylum, so I don't ask. When she laughs, I laugh along. Before long, our hour is done. A new nurse escorts her to her room and then escorts me back into the lobby.
"Who are those number people she kept talking about?" I ask her.
"I don't know, but she speaks of them a lot. Maybe it's a code… or numbers that she connects certain people with." I nod and head out. "Come back soon. This was good for her."
Yeah, I feel all warm and fuzzy inside too.
I look at my watch. It's eight thirty. I pull out my phone, as I slide into my car. I call The Torch office. A frantic sounding Lana answers.
"Hello?"
"Lana? It's Chloe. Thanks for the work you did for me yesterday."
"Oh Chloe, I was here until nine. I didn't realize how hard running a school newspaper was. How do you handle it?"
"Well, Lana, there is something I never told you before. I'm a superhero. I can fly and work in super speed." I say. "I need you to do something else for me, since I won't be coming back to school day."
"Chloe, I don't know. It is an awful lot of work."
"I know, I know. But I did do all that researching about Jason. That was hard work." I should feel guilty about lying, but I don't.
"Oh alright. What is it you need me to do?" I give her a list of things.
I can almost hear her faint over the phone.
A/N2: That was the longest chapter to date and probably longest chapter there will ever be. Happy Tenth, fanfiction of mine!