Dream Girl: Chapter 12 - Shock
After several hours without a word from Clark, Pete dragged Sheldon Voss, Carter Hogan's roommate and lackey, down to his car and drove to the police station. A hard-nosed beat cop took Pete seriously and threw Sheldon in a holding cell until Detective Johnson could be called in. Just as Pete began to worry about what to tell the detective, he got the call from Clark.
Pete slipped out of the station unnoticed and followed Clark's directions. "I'm here," Pete said, screeching to a stop outside the warehouse. Pete threw his phone over into the passenger seat and stepped out of his car.
"Gotta admit, the boy's got style," Pete muttered as he stepped over the mangled iron doors. Looking for the landmarks Clark gave him, Pete found the hall and made his way down. Rounding a corner Pete stopped. Unexpectedly, he saw a form sprawled on the floor. From his vantage point Pete could see blood matted in blonde hair. He gulped, reminding himself Clark had Chloe and she was alive and safe.
"Clark?" He called out. He heard Clark faintly just down the hall. When he got to the limp body, Pete turned his head away, not sure if could stomach the damage up close. Catching sight of a brown toe of a boot, Pete headed into a room off the hall. On the floor he saw Clark, Chloe held securely in his arms. Pete knelt and laid a hand on Chloe's blonde head, assuring himself she was real.
"I've called 911. They should be here soon. I want to get her to the hospital, make sure no damage was done," Clark said as Pete squatted next to them.
"What happened?" Pete asked.
"Here, take her. I need to get up," Clark began to hand Chloe off. Pete got his arms underneath Chloe only to realize her hands were twisted in Clark's shirt. It seemed in her subconscious, Chloe clung to her safety net even though the danger was lying dead in the hallway.
"Don't disturb her," Clark amended. "Just help me up."
Pete did his best to shoulder Clark up to his feet. When both were standing, Pete asked, "What happened to you?" He had never seen Clark so drained before.
"That was one nasty drug. I got a taste of it myself." Clark heard sirens. "They're almost here."
"What do you need me to do?" Pete asked, careful to hold Clark steady as the two left the room.
"Anything. The drug was laced with Kryptonite and I don't know when my abilities will return to full strength. Until then I don't need anyone looking too close," Clark answered.
"I'll do what I can, but I don't know how much it'll help," Pete replied quietly as three paramedics hustled toward them pushing a gurney. Even in Clark's weakened condition, he refused to relinquish his hold of Chloe and Pete, in hopes of distracting them, pointed towards the prone body on the floor.
"Hutchins," a tall, good-looking paramedic spoke into a wireless radio attached to his shoulder. A garbled response was heard and the paramedic began speaking again. "We've got a body. Call the ME. I'm sending the vic, a blonde Caucasian female, out to you, looks to be suffering from shock. She's escorted by two males, one Caucasian, one African American. Trew, Weston and I will stay with the body until Berger gets here." He then nodded, dismissing them. Pete pushed Clark ahead of him as they went.
Outside, Pete and Clark stiffened at the sight of two detectives, one Johnson, stepping out of their unmarked squad car.
"Head over to the ambulance," Pete ordered Clark. "I'll handle this."
Clark walked off, leaving Pete to the detectives. Johnson, Clark saw, kept eying him but tuned back to Pete when he uttered the words 'dead body'. Two other paramedics met Clark half way and swept Chloe out of his arms. Efficiently they loaded her into the back. Clark watched, wanting to follow her but unsure if he would be allowed. Then one stuck his head out and called, "You comin'?"
Clark glanced over at Pete who was still in deep conversation with Detective Johnson. A quick wave of his hand told Clark to get his butt on the ambulance. Climbing in, Clark sat back as the EMT slammed the doors shut.
"All in, Hutchins," he said as his partner started the vehicle, sirens and lights flashing.
"You wanna tell me what happened?" The paramedic asked Clark.
While the guy took Chloe's vitals and shone a tiny penlight in all of her facial openings, Clark told his story. By the time they arrived at Metropolis General, Clark felt almost normal.
With short, proficient movements, Hutchins and the other EMT, Osbourne, unloaded Chloe from the ambulance and wheeled her into the ER. Clark followed closely but was stopped abruptly by a plump nurse dressed in bright green who stepped in front of him.
"I'm sorry, sir, but you need to wait outside." And before he could react, she snapped the curtains together, obscuring Chloe from Clark's sight. A doctor bumped his shoulder as he, too, ran behind the curtains. Not to his surprise, the green clad nurse reappeared.
"Come with me, young man," she ordered, her authoritative voice leaving no room for argument. Clark followed reluctantly.
"You say everything seems normal? Draw some blood and run all the tests. Then schedule her for an EKG and a CAT-scan. I want to see what those levels…" Clark shut off his hearing. He didn't need to torment himself. Chloe was going to be fine, but his guts squirmed.
The nurse led him into a crowded waiting area and over to the Admitting Desk. After a few curt words to the clerk, she turned back to Clark.
"You wait here," she said before waddling off.
"Here." The male clerk thrust a clipboard and a pencil at him. "Sit over there and fill those out then bring them back."
Clark took a seat and rifled through the admissions forms. Name and address were easy, along with date of birth. Allergies? Anything decaffeinated. He listed himself as her emergency contact, but the next question made him pause. Relationship to patient? Did the entire world demand an answer to this question? Would they talk to him if he listed himself as a friend, he wondered? Clark stared at the blank a little longer and then filled it in, hoping there would be no awkward questions later. Completing the last of the forms, Clark returned them to the clerk.
"Everything seems in order, Mr. Kent. We just need a copy of her insurance card," the clerk said, looking at him expectantly.
"Sure. Can I get it faxed to you?" Clark asked quickly. The clerk gave him the number and Clark returned to his chair. He took out Chloe's cell and pressed his lips together. Boy, how he dreaded this call.
"She what?" Came the outraged reply. Clark held the phone away as a few of Lois's favorite phrases flew. "Clark? Clark!"
"She's fine, Lois! I just need her insurance card. Does she have insurance?" Clark asked suddenly.
"Of course she does!" Lois blustered. "It's in her purse."
"She doesn't have her purse. Do you-"
"Why doesn't she have her purse?" Lois was not taking the news well. Clark called to tell her, Chloe, her little cousin was in the ER and Lois was going on about a purse! Clark shook his head and squeezed the bridge of his nose. That headache was coming back.
"I'll explain later, Lois," Clark interrupted her hysterical musings. "Do you have a copy?"
"Yes, I do. For emergencies. But I'm at the Talon! It'll take me an hour to get there!" Lois replied shrilly.
"They said you can fax it. Here's the number." Clark rattled off the number, having Lois repeat it three times to make sure she'd copied it down correctly.
After telling the clerk the fax was on its way, Clark relaxed back into his chair. Two seconds later he was on his feet again to meet Lana and Pete.
"How is she?" Lana asked.
"I don't know," Clark told them both. "No one has told me anything yet." Lana took a hand in hers and led him back to the chair he'd been slouching in. Pete excused himself again, going in search of a coke machine and giving Lana the alone time with Clark she'd requested on the way over.
"Pete filled me in. He dropped by and picked me up. I hope that was OK," Lana explained tentatively.
"Yeah. I would have called you, but all I could think of was getting Chloe here," Clark replied unapologetically.
"Clark, I understand. I am sorry about earlier. I shouldn't have gone all weepy on you when Chloe was the first priority. But sometimes-"
"Mr. Kent?" The doctor who bumped Clark before stood before them.
"Yes?" Clark stood, Lana followed holding his arm.
"I'm Dr. Matthews," he introduced himself with an outstretched hand which Clark shook jerkily.
"I have good news and bad news," Dr. Matthews started calmly. "Ms. Sullivan is stable. All her vitals are good and normal and she's breathing on her own, which are good signs. However, she's slipped into what we call a Stress Induced Coma."
"And what is that?" Clark asked, his heart jumping into his throat. His guts had been right.
"It's where the body, after experiencing extremely high levels of adrenaline, drops back to normal. The brain will shut certain areas off to recuperate," Dr. Matthews explained. "Her body was greatly taxed by the drug she was given. From what we can tell, her body fluctuated between extreme states of high adrenaline and deep unconsciousness. After the last adrenaline high, her body took over and forced her consciousness into a restful state so her body could return to its original stasis."
"Will she wake up?" Lana asked with a catch in her voice.
"Ms. Sullivan is a very healthy young woman and after what she's been through, I can tell she doesn't give up easily. There is substantial brain activity, a fact that takes the odds way up. But there is no way to know. Comas are serious, even if one is the body's solution to heal itself," Dr. Matthews finished.
"Can I see her?" Clark asked.
"Yes. If you'll follow me, I'll take you to your fiancée. Right this way, Mr. Kent." Dr. Matthews motioned for Clark to walk with him. Pete stepped up beside Lana, having caught most of the conversation.
"Fiancée?" Pete looked at Lana for confirmation. She looked back at him, her eyes registering shock.
"Chloe's Husband-To-Be obviously."
To read Ch. 13, click here.