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The Match Girl Author: Celli
Lane Chloe was sure she was dead. She squinted her eyes against the rainbow overwhelming her vision and listened. There was a clattering next to her as her purse finished dumping itself on the passenger seat. There were assorted whines from the engine as it gasped its last. There was the sound of her own too-fast, too-shallow breathing. And above it all, she could definitely make out the banshee howling of the wind. These were not heavenly sounds. "Okay. Not dead. Just crashed. Don't panic," she gasped. She patted herself--okay, legs, stomach, head, everything still attached. Good. Why were her hands so cold on her face? Where were her--no. Oh, no. Her gloves were sitting on the table at home, next to her hat, which was where she had left them the day before, running out the door on her way to Metropolis. "Honey!" Her dad had caught her and practically bundled her into her coat. "Dad, I'm fine. It's sixty degrees out." She'd felt like a five-year-old. "I have my sweater." "I know it feels like March out there, but it's December. It never hurts to be too prepared." "I know, I know." But by the time she'd grabbed her purse, her phone, her notebook, her coffee, her CDs, and her car keys, both her arms and her mind had been too full to remember anything else. Like potentially life-saving warm clothing. "I *suck,*" she told the empty air. "I really, really do. I could have borrowed stuff from Aunt Jo when I saw it was snowing this morning, but nooooo. I'm not smart enough to actually think ahead. Argh!" She turned the key. The engine made one you've-got-to-be- kidding-me cough and subsided, probably permanently. "Okay. Plan A, toast. Plan B." She reached for her purse. Then she winced and undid the seatbelt. Her chest *hurt*--she had a feeling she'd have a bruise in the shape of a steering wheel the next day. She dug through everything on the seat twice, then painfully reached down and checked beside it, underneath it, behind it. No cell phone. Chloe ran through every swear word she'd ever learned. It was a fairly impressive list. "Okay. Plan C. Plan C. Plan C." She drummed her fingers on the steering wheel. "Think, Sullivan." The sound of a truck engine jerked her upright. She scrabbled for the door handle, shoving the seat belt the rest of the way out of the way, shoving with all her strength. She didn't climb out of the car so much as fall out of it. Her leg sank knee-high into the snowdrift, throwing her off balance. She was probably making some warped reverse snow angel, but she struggled up and flailed her way to the highway. By the time she got there, there weren't even taillights to see in the distance. She stood on the side of the road, staring both ways into nothingness, and for the first time since she'd realized she wasn't dead, she was more than annoyed. She was afraid. *** "Clark, really, stop snickering." "I can't help it. You look so.so." "Stylish and suave?" "Lex. You're wearing a dishtowel." "It keeps the dishwater from... Clark. Stop *laughing.*" "I don't think so." Clark put away another plate and enjoyed the sight of Lex Luthor, Richest Man in Smallville, elbow-deep in bubbles, frowning at a stubborn bit of gunk on a pot as though it had offended him personally. "I'll be reminding you of this for years." "See if I bring my company manners next time I come to dinner." "Be nice or I won't drive you home." Clark nodded out the window at the rapidly piling snow. "You might get out of the driveway in that overpriced tin can of yours. Maybe." Lex glared at him. Clark just grinned and grabbed another plate out of the drainer. "Clark?" They both turned at the tension in Martha's voice. She was standing in the kitchen doorway, holding the phone. "Gabe Sullivan just called." Clark bobbled the plate. "What's wrong? Chloe--?" "He called to see if she'd shown up here. Her aunt says she left Metropolis early this afternoon, and no one's heard from her since. She's not answering her cell phone." His mother's face was white. "She should have been here at least two hours ago, even in the worst conditions." "I'll find her," Clark said without thinking, and took a step towards the door. Lex's hand on his shoulder stopped him. "I'm coming with you." *** Chloe continued to call herself names until she wriggled her way into the backseat of the car. Not only was she soaked to the bone and freezing to--freezing, she'd let all the warm air out. She dug through her purse and overnight bag, pulling out everything and anything that could help her. It was time to think for a change. She stripped quickly, used her nightgown to dry herself off as best she could, then climbed quickly into yesterday's jeans and sweater. She didn't want to put her wet coat back on, but she dried the inside off on the back of the driver's seat and pulled it on. What else, what else... oh! She dug under the seat again, coming up with a gaily-wrapped gift bag. Aunt Jo had given her an early Christmas gift when she left. Her already- numb fingers fumbled with the bag, but she finally pulled out a scented candle in a stained-glass holder, and yes! Matches, too! "Thank you, Aunt Jo," she said out loud. The candle didn't really give off any warmth, but it provided the illusion of warmth, and the light from it made her realize that the daylight coming through the back window of the car had steadily diminished. She tucked the empty duffel bag around her feet and curled around the candle. With her fingers tucked inside the candleholder, some feeling was returning. She winced at the pins-and-needles sensation. "This is good, though," she said. The flame guttered, and she aimed her face away from the wick. "Heat is.ow.good." Chloe leaned her head back against the seat. Her hair was frozen and stiff around her ears. "Someone will come soon," she told herself. "This is par for the course in Smallville. Look on the bright side. You're gaining on Lana in the Damsel in Distress Competition. Think she'll loan you a tiara if you win?" She looked around the car again. "I could always build a little fire. My luck, I'd die of smoke inhalation then. And what could I burn?" She poked at her purse. "It's a thought." She continued her rambling little monologue, making a list of the flammable things in the car, fighting the sudden urge to nap until she was rescued. In the movies, sleeping was always a bad idea. Right? *** Clark was getting a headache. X-Ray one side of the road. Switch to regular vision to make sure he was staying in his lane--or what little of it he could see. X-Ray the other side of the road. Repeat. He took one hand off the wheel long enough to rub at his eyes, but it didn't help. "We'll find her, Clark," Lex said. He looked ridiculous, bundled up in a good three layers of clothing that was only a little too big for him. "Mom!" Clark had hissed while Lex and his father were upstairs finding something that could withstand the elements better than a business suit. "I can't take him with me! I'm not taking anyone else out in this!" "Clark. You need to take the truck anyway." "I can run faster than--" "You can't run Chloe to the hospital, not in this weather. Don't look at me like that, honey. She may need medical help." Martha's hands had been soothing on his face. "Lex wants to help. Let him." Clark jerked himself back to the present and tried to smile at Lex. "She'll be okay. She's probably pulled off to the side of the road, writing an editorial about the incompetence of the local search and rescue teams." "She'll want to know what took us so long when we get there." "Yeah. And she's going to make fun of your hat." Lex's hand went to the stocking cap on his head. "I like this hat! I think it looks dashing." "Unless dashing is another word for dorky, um, no." Lex rolled his eyes and went back to staring out the window. Clark went back to X-Ray. The headache was more of a dull thud right behind his eyes now. "Lex?" "Yeah?" I'm scared, he didn't say. I have a sinking feeling in my stomach, and I keep remembering the way Chloe laughed the last time I saw her, and the way she cried the last time I broke her heart. "I hate winter." "I know." Lex's hand was solid on his shoulder. "But we'll find her." *** Chloe jerked herself awake. Why was it so dark? She fumbled for the book of matches, lit one, and looked down. "Oh no!" The candle had tipped over, drowning itself in now-congealed wax. She poked at it frantically, but the wick was buried in the wax. She swore when the match burned down to her finger and shook it out hastily before dropping it. Three more matches burned out before Chloe finally admitted that the candle was a goner. "Screwed up *again,*" she said, sniffling back tears that came anyway, leaving cold trails down her cheeks. "Too stupid to stay awake. Oh, God." Her head was swimming. She curled into a tighter ball and lit another match, just to watch it spark. "Pretty." She let it burn almost all the way down to her fingers before blowing it out. Two matches later, her hands were shaking so hard she had to wedge the matchbook between her knees to hold it still enough to strike. Sometime after that, the match burned all the way down to her fingertips and past before extinguishing itself. She didn't notice. *** "Clark!" "I see it." Clark fought to control the truck, skidding to a halt on the side of the road only a few feet from the back of a little blue car, nearly buried by the snow. He looked through the back of the car. "She's in the back seat!" he shouted over the wind, hurrying to open one back door while Lex stomped through the snow toward the other. Their eyes met over Chloe's still form in the back seat. Lex looked at the candle and matches scattered around her. "The little match girl," he said inanely. "The fairy tale." "Lex! She *died*!" "I'm sorry. I--" Lex shook his head once, hard. He ripped off one glove and pressed his fingers to her neck. "She has a pulse, but it's really weak." Clark had just confirmed the same thing by X-Raying her heart. "Lex. Oh, God, Lex. What--" Lex's voice was strained. "Hypothermia is often characterized by muscle rigidity, pale skin, dilated pupils, and decreased pulse." He pulled Chloe's arm away from her body; she groaned and tried to bring it back into her fetal position. "The most important steps in treatment are keeping moisture away from the body, and applying heat at major artery points--warming the extremities too soon can actually lead to a drop in core body temperature." He looked over at Clark. "If we can't warm her up before we move her--" Thank God for photographic memory. "Okay. Okay." Clark tried to think. Applying heat. He could do this. He looked up. "Lex. I can help her. But you have to promise not to tell anyone how." Lex looked a little angry and a lot confused. "This is not the time for--" "Promise me." "I promise, dammit." "Okay. What artery points do I warm?" "Neck. Armpits. Groin." Clark took a deep breath. He'd never tried anything like this before. He braced himself against the seat and focused his heat vision. He could hear Lex's indrawn breath when the first blast of heat hit Chloe's neck, but he didn't dare look up. "Put your hand by her neck and make sure I'm not burning her." A brief hesitation, then Lex complied. "You're fine so far." Clark kept his gaze there as long as he dared, then switched to her armpits, increasing the heat a little to work through her clothing. "Clark!" Lex said once, and Clark realized part of Chloe's jacket was smoking. He hastily dialed it back down. He was concentrating right below her waist, decidedly not thinking about what he was doing, when she mumbled something almost coherent. "Chloe?" Lex said, his hands on her face. He had long ago ripped off his cap and pushed it down on her head, and his skin was whiter than usual as he leaned in towards her. Clark blinked off the heat vision and looked up, his heart in his throat. "Lex? Are you savin' me?" she mumbled. Lex managed a laugh. "We're sure trying," he said. "We're going to go to the hospital now, okay?" "Okay. Can someone else drive? I'm kinda tired." "No problem," Clark said. "Blanket?" he asked Lex quietly, who nodded and headed to the truck. "I'm not letting you drive again for a long time, anyway, Chloe." "I'm a good driver..." "You wrecked your car! Tell me the truth. You just did it so your dad would by you a new one, didn't you?" She giggled. It was weak and thready, but it was a giggle. "Caught me." *** Clark stood in the hospital hallway and wondered if it were possible to be any more tired. Chloe was safe, finally. Something in him had known Chloe would be fine as soon as she'd laughed, but it had still been a terrifying few hours until they reported her warmed up and conscious, all body parts in perfect working order. Nearly as stressful had been dealing with his parents without telling them what he'd revealed--that lecture could wait until later--and watching Lex avoid him. Clark sighed and went for a cup of coffee. He would go visit Chloe, and taunt her with the caffeine the doctors weren't allowing her yet. That would make him feel better. There were voices coming from Chloe's half-open door. Clark hesitated, not wanting to interrupt the nurse on her rounds. Then he recognized the non-Chloe voice and frowned. He thought Lex had left an hour ago. "...really worried about you, Chloe," he heard when he got closer. "Clark always worries. It's what he's really good at, along with miraculous saves." Clark winced. "Don't sell yourself short, Chloe. More importantly, don't sell Clark short." "I understand that you're trying to make me feel better." Lex's voice was sharp. "I have better things to do than soothe a teenager's ego. I'm trying to tell you something." "Okay. Sorry?" Clark could imagine the confused look on Chloe's face. "Chloe..." Lex got quieter, until Clark had to practically lean into the door to hear him. "Clark risked more than you know to save you. I know that near-death experiences are common enough here, but you still need to appreciate that." Chloe was quiet for a long time. "What did he risk to save me?" "His life," Lex said simply. *** There was a hesitant tap on the door, and Clark entered. Lex stood. "I'll leave you two alone." Her head swimming, Chloe could only nod. She watched Clark and Lex speak briefly at the door. She couldn't hear what they said, but after a moment Lex smiled and extended his hand formally to Clark. Clark took it, and she could see the relief in his face when he smiled back. Clark closed the door behind him and took the chair Lex had vacated. "How are you doing?" "Believe it or not, I'm kind of warm," Chloe said. "They had me swaddled in enough blankets that--I didn't think they *had* this many blankets." Clark laughed. "Overkill?" "I think so." She watched him fiddle with the cup in his hand. "So you heard what Lex said, I suppose?" He jerked his head up. "No. Well. Some." "Is he right? About risking your life to save me?" He shrugged. "Clark," she said, exasperated. "I... took a chance." He leaned over and picked up her hand. For once, he was looking her straight in the eye, and it was almost unnerving. "But I'd do it again." "Why?" Chloe asked, surprised to find tears in her eyes. "Because saving people is what you do?" "Because you're worth it." Clark's eyes were shining, too. "Whatever kind of idiot I am, please don't ever doubt that." His voice broke. "God, Chloe--" She wriggled her other arm out of the blanket-cocoon to throw it around him. He hugged her so hard it almost hurt, but she hugged him back just as hard. Clark pulled back and scrubbed a hand across his eyes. "Okay. Let's try this again, shall we?" He held out a hand, just like Lex had earlier. "Clark Jerome Kent. Really big dweeb, massive commitment problems, at the mercy of my hormones. But I think you're pretty much the coolest person on the planet." Chloe giggled and offered him the hand without the IV in it. "Chloe Michelle Sullivan. Also a dweeb, self-esteem issues. And ditto." They smiled at each other over their joined hands. --the end-- Disclaimer: All recognizable characters belong to their owners/creators/copyright holders. This fan-written fiction intends no infringement on any copyrights. |
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