Disclaimer: I do not own, nor am I in any way associated with, Smallville/Superman/DC Comics/whatever.
Chloe took her seat in one of the uncomfortable waiting room chairs as her father stepped up to the desk to check her in. She hated this place. She hated answering "Doctor Dana's" questions. And what kind of a doctor used her first name anyway?
"Chloe?" the nurse called just when Chloe spotted a magazine that seemed interesting. "You can go on back, you know the way, right?"
Chloe nodded and slid off the seat. Her father gave her what passed for a smile nowadays just before she closed the heavy door behind her. Doctor Dana's office was around the first corner and three doors down. The other rooms were mostly offices like Doctor Dana's but some were laboratories that Chloe most definitely wasn't allowed in. The light beside the door was off, meaning the doctor wasn't in a session, so Chloe walked right in.
"Chloe," Doctor Dana said happily. She put aside the yellow legal pad she'd been writing on and pulled another out of a briefcase beside her wingback chair.
Chloe sat on the couch across the room. She slid her hands beneath her and began swinging her legs idly. They stayed like that, staring at one another, for a fill five minutes before Chloe said, "Dad's really sad."
Chloe glared. Doctor Dana knew exactly why her dad was unhappy, it was the same reason Chloe had to come to these stupid meetings once a week. Before she could bite off an angry retort there was a heavy thump against the door, startling them both.
"Stay there," Doctor Dana said, holding a hand out to Chloe as if to seal her in place from that distance. She opened the door slowly and Chloe heard people running. Doctor Dana stopped one of them and they spoke quietly. Chloe could only catch a few words "attacked … escape … find him …." As the person hurried away Doctor Dana glanced back at Chloe. "I need you to stay right where you are. Okay, Chloe? If someone tries to get in I want you to go hide under my desk."
"Chloe. Do you understand?"
Chloe nodded and Doctor Dana left.
A million and twelve horrifying scenarios whirled through Chloe's mind by the time the doorknob started shuddering. Her mind immediately went back to that million and fifth scenario where zombies were loose in the building and she dove behind the desk. When door opened and slammed closed Chloe told herself she was being foolish. There were no such things as zombies and Doctor Dana was probably overreacting anyway. She was just about to crawl out when she heard a noise. It sounded like an animal shuffling over the floor and sniffing for a little girl to eat. The sniffing moved around the side of the room and Chloe pushed far back into the shadows of the desk, wishing she could disappear into the wood. The chair was pushed further back and the whatever-it-was came into view.
"Hello," it sniffled and Chloe realized that the raggedy hair and red eyes belonged to a person.
"Hi," Chloe said. "Did your doctor tell you to hide too?"
The boy, it was a boy, rubbed his eyes fiercely with his sleeve. Chloe crawled out and looked him over. His shirt was too big, but not the kind of big that meant he would grow into it, the kind that meant it had once belonged to someone else and had been tossed to him when it became too holey and stained. His dark hair looked like it had never seen a brush and his shoes were missing entirely.
"Are you okay?" she asked, pulling her knees up under her chin.
"I'm fine!" he snarled. When she did no more than flinch he narrowed his eyes at her. "Why aren't you scared?"
"Why would I be? You're just a little boy."
"Well you're just a little girl!"
"Duh," she said and turned away, resting her head on her knees so he couldn't see her face.
After several minutes he mumbled, "Sorry."
"Apology accepted!" she said happily, turning back around with a smile. "I'm Chloe."
She offered him her hand and he stared at it for a moment before saying, "Davis," and shaking it stiffly. "Why are you here?" he asked, giving her a sidelong glance.
"No reason," she said, tucking her hands under her knees.
"There's gotta be a reason," he pressed. "They don't send normal kids to psychiatrists for no reason."
"Well there isn't!" she snapped.
"Fine," he said, turning away.
"Fine," she echoed and was left staring at his back. "I hurt my hands," she said.
He turned. "Your hands?"
"Let me see."
Grudgingly, she pulled her hands out of her knees and held them out to him. He took them, turning them this way and that and trying to see something wrong with them. "They look fine."
She looked at his dirty fingers. Under his nails were small crescents of red. She remembered her mother yelling at her and suddenly feeling pain, realizing the soapy water in the sink was stained red. On the way to the hospital, with towels wrapped around her throbbing hands, she could still see her nails and the small red crescents under them.
"They got better," she said stiffly, pulling away. "And my mom left," she added.
"At least you had one." He leaned back against the desk, looking at the grey clouds out the window above them.
"Is that why you're here?" she asked.
His eyes hardened and he said, "I'm here because no one wants me."
"That's not true."
"How do you know?" he asked, snarling again.
"Everyone is wanted by someone," she said with conviction, "it's just a matter of finding the someone."
"Whatever," Davis muttered.
After giving it a moment's thought Chloe slid closer to Davis and took his hand. Holding it between them on the floor and looking up at the grey sky she said, "I'll be your someone, if you'll be mine."
"Girls are so weird," he said, shaking his head. But he didn't let go and when the rain began and she leaned her head on his shoulder, he just squeezed her hand tightly.