Noir Spots

Anything You Can Do I Can Do Better

i feel like i should apologize for...that

—-

This was the second time Chloé died.

Well, if it could even be counted as dying since she had yet to hit the ground. But really, there was no way out of it. Cats land on their feet, but she wasn't really a cat.

Bend your knees. Plagg's voice flooded her mind. Level your body. Head forward. You are not going to die.

Plagg—

I am not going to let you die. I absolutely will not lose another black cat.

Another? Plagg—

Push your head down and fucking roll, Chloé.

Chloé shut up and listened.

She kept herself compact as she fell, just as Plagg instructed. Her eyes were wide open despite the incredible urge to shut them tight with fear. She tilted forward, angling herself so that her shoulder was closest to the ground so far below.

When she dreamed of being a superhero as a child, she definitely didn't imagine this.

In the stories, the main character is always fearless.

It didn't matter what they looked like, whether they had blue eyes or brown hair, whether they were a person of color or of Asian heritage. No matter the personality or the friends they had, no matter the gender of the love interest, the main character was always far more brave than any other character.

They would face danger head on, confronting problems with a smile on their face and a snarky remark on their lips. Percy Jackson, Celaena Sardothien, Inej Ghafa, Simon Snow. They spent chapter after chapter laughing in the face of danger, smirking at their enemies.

And there was the whole cliche of everyone being their own main character, in their own story.

That was complete and utter bullshit.

Because if she was the main character, why the hell was she dying all the time?

Shouldn't she be waving to all her fans in a parade in her honor by now? Shouldn't she at least get to have a full night's sleep? At the bare minimum, she shouldn't have to deal with dying every ten minutes.

Chloé blinked terror induced tears from her eyes and hit the ground, rolling diagonally over her left shoulder. A sickening crack of bones filled her ears like blood, but she kept rolling until she slammed into the brick of the building that stood beside the one she had just plummeted from.

The familiar burn of pain scraped across her bones, leaving her screaming at the bloody and limp mess that was her arm.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.

Chloé bit her lip hard to stop the scream trapped in her throat from escaping. Her arm, from her shoulder to the tip of her fingers, was sizzling with pain.

Chloé stumbled to the side as she stood, clutching her arm with her uninsured hand, holding it tightly like it would fall off if she let go.

"I think your arm might be disclosed, kid." Plagg appeared in front of her, grimacing at the mess that was her arm.

"Dislocated, Plagg? It's mush!" She yelled, the tears brimming her eyes stung against the other cuts and bruises along her skin.

Chloé scowled as Plagg tested a glance and gagged as if he would throw up.

"Plagg!"

"At least you aren't dead!"

"I wish I was!"