(no subject)
Series: Two Guys, a Girl and a Chevy Impala
Story One: “The Demons We Hide”
Authors: Clarksmuse and X_tremeroswellian
Rated: R
Genre: Smallville/Supernatural crossover
Pairings: Eventual Chloe/Dean, of course
Spoilers: Spoiler speculation for Smallville; up through "No Exit" of Supernatural.
Feedback: Rocks our socks and you guys are awesome with it so thank you!!
Sam felt like he could have slept all day the following day, but he dragged himself out of bed. He noticed that Dean hadn't gotten back yet, which kind of worried him. Where his brother had been all night, he didn't know. That didn't make the number he was about to dial any easier.
Fumbling for his cell, Sam flipped to the number for the Roadhouse, praying that Ash picked up the phone.
"Roadhouse," Ellen said into the phone as she wiped down the counter.
Crap, Sam thought, pausing for a second. "Ellen... hi."
Her eyebrows furrowed for a moment. "Sam?"
"Yeah," he replied shyly. "It's Sam. How... how are you?"
Ellen was silent for a moment. "Just fine. How are you?"
"Fine." He didn't know what else to say. He heard her hard response to his calling. He knew she didn't want anything to do with them. "Uh, I need to speak to Ash."
"Sure thing," she said, her voice a bit softer. She looked toward the back. "Pick up the phone, Ash!"
Sam heard Ellen put the phone on the counter, obviously because Ash had taken his time getting to pick it up. In the background, Sam could hear Jo asking who was on the phone and Ellen brushing her question away with an obscure comment. 'Just as well', Sam thought. He didn't want to deal with Jo at the moment.
Several moments later, Ash answered the phone. "Ash?" he asked.
"What's up, Sam?"
"Dude, we need some help with a hunt we're doing," Sam said quickly, shaking his head to clear the cobwebs from his mind. Trying to think about what he'd witnessed last night....
"Whatcha hunting?"
"That's the thing. I don't know. It's huge and has a lot of teeth. Scariest looking thing I've seen in awhile," he replied.
"Well that narrows it down," the other man responded, laying back on his bed. "Where are you?"
"Topeka."
"Big thing with teeth in Topeka. I'll see what I can find."
Sam couldn't help but smile just a little bit. "You're going on just *that* information?" he asked, a little impressed.
"That's why they call me Dr. Badass, Sam," he said with a smirk. "I'm that good."
"I'll take your word on that," he replied with a wry smile. Trust Ash to make a comment like that. "Call me as soon as you find something... and Ash? Don't tell Ellen or Jo about this."
"Sure thing. I’ll have something soon, I'm sure," Ash said smugly.
"Yeah, I'll be waiting impatiently for your call," he retorted with a snark in his voice. He closed the phone and put it on the nightstand, just staring at it for a moment. He hoped Ash would call with something soon. In the meantime, he needed to concentrate on clearing his head of all the voices he heard in them. And of the latest vision that had nearly knocked him senseless.
&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&
Chloe had slept for nearly 12 hours and yet when she pulled herself out of bed the next day she felt as if she hadn't slept at all. She climbed in the shower, letting the hot water soothe her tired and aching bones, feeling like she'd been hit by a Mac truck. She'd just finished and had wrapped herself in the warm fluffy robe when there was a knock on the door of her motel room. Slowly padding across the room, she opened it to find Dean standing there with two styrofoam cups of coffee and a concerned, albeit tired look on his face. "Hey."
"Hey, yourself," he replied, trying to smile but not succeeding. "Mind if I come in?" He nodded towards Sam, who had fallen asleep again. Between the two of them, Dean didn't know who to be more concerned about. Her pale, sad face couldn't hide her fatigue.
"Sure." Chloe stepped aside, tucking some damp hair behind her ear and closing the door behind him as he stepped inside.
He handed her one of the coffee cups he held and sat down at the table. "Looks like you need that more than I do," he replied, noticing the fact that her shoulders were slumped with lethargy. "Did you sleep?" He stifled a yawn.
"Yeah. For hours. Don't feel like I slept at all though," she admitted, taking a long drink of the coffee and murmuring her thanks for it.
Frowning, Dean stared at her, his eyes dark with the kind of concern he had no name for. He sipped on his coffee and continued staring at her.
"I'm all right," she told him without looking at him. She could feel his gaze on her.
"Liar," he mumbled into his coffee, his eyes still on her, watching her every move. She shuffled to the table and sat slowly, as if in pain.
"Where've you been?" she asked quietly.
"Out," he said cryptically. He'd spent the entire night parked outside the Woodsboro Baptist Church for any strange activity... and had seen nothing. Heard nothing. And his thoughts had consumed him all night.
"That's specific," she said with a very faint smile.
Sighing in frustration, he looked down into his coffee. "I was at that church last night."
Her eyes widened. "You... what?"
"What? You and Sam can be brainwashed but I can't?" he retorted wryly. "I wanted to see..." He hesitated. She didn't know anything about Sam's latest vision. "Sam had a vision last night, and I wanted to see if I could find what he saw."
"What did he see?" she asked, voice barely above a whisper as she leaned toward him.
"He saw... some underground place with... a demon and a lot of people," he said tonelessly. "He thinks it might be where the believers are... taken... to be brainwashed." He looked up suddenly and into Chloe's confused, yet dull eyes. "Have you been there, Chloe?" he asked quietly.
She was silent, her head suddenly beginning to ache. "No." She shook her head a little.
He leaned forward and gently touched one of her hands. "How do you know?" he asked. "You haven't seemed yourself since..." 'Since you went there', he thought to himself.
"Because if I'd been there, I'd remember it!" She suddenly felt an intense wave of anxiety wash over her.
He stood up suddenly. "Chloe." Walking over to her, he crouched down and ran a hand over her hair. Her face spoke of an intense emotion he knew she had to get out. "I think maybe you're remembering something else," he said.
"Like what?" she whispered, trembling.
"You tell me," he replied, gently tucking her face into his chest. "What's this place making you think about?"
"You aren't supposed to secrets from people you care about," she whispered.
"What secrets are you talking about?" he asked. And who was the person she cared about? That was the question that had bothered him from the moment they crossed the Kansas state line.
She slowly pulled away from him, looking like death warmed over as she put her face in her hands. "It's not like I wanted to keep it from him. But it wasn't my decision to make. They always put me in the middle of all their crap!"
A shadow crossed his face as he watched her try to keep it together while they talked. "Who's... they?" he asked quietly.
"Clark and Lana," she said bitterly.
Ah. The big secret was out. These people must be the 'thing' she'd been running from when they picked her up. Hesitantly, he put a hand on her arm. "Friends of yours?"
"I made the mistake of thinking so."
"Mistake?" he repeated, hating that there wasn't something more he could do. "Can I ask... what happened to make you think they weren't your friends?"
"Apparently I shouldn't have kept Lana's pregnancy from Clark. Except it wasn't my place to tell him and it wasn't any of his damn business anyway." She stood up abruptly.
From his crouching position, Dean watched Chloe put physical distance between them. And he grew angry over these two people who clearly had no idea what kind of giving woman Chloe was. "You mean this dude got... mad at you because you didn't tell him something that didn't sound like any of his business?!" As he spoke, his frustration level rose, making him want to pound into the wall. Again.
Bitter tears sparkled in her eyes. "Clark thinks everything about Lana Lang is his business. And God help you if you don't agree."
Rolling his eyes, Dean said, "Yeah, I know girls like that. High maintenance... among other things." He saw the unshed tears, however, and stood. Closing the distance between them, he whispered, "You love him, don't you?"
She was silent for a long moment. "I've loved him for so long I don't remember what it was like not to," she admitted painfully.
Dean didn't know whether to be relieved or jealous. This Clark didn't deserve the kind of feelings she had for him. He was glad he would never meet this dude, because his days would be numbered. He looked down to keep her from seeing the anger in his eyes and nodded silently. He put a hand on her arm and rubbed it gently in comfort.
"The thing is...I was moving past him," she whispered, slowly sitting down on the edge of the bed. "I'd met someone else."
"I see," he replied slowly, standing in place, his head still down. "This guy... what happened with him?"
She was silent for a long moment, and when she spoke again her voice was thick. "Well...he and my cousin...started working together behind my back." The hurt was obvious on her face. "I can't be with someone I don't trust."
Dean simply nodded, knowing all too well how much trust had always been with him. That the root issue with him had always been trust. "What were they doing?"
A tear trickled down her cheek and she wiped it away quickly. "I'm a reporter...was...a reporter with the Daily Planet." She tried to smile but didn't manage it. "And all of a sudden my cousin Lois decided that's her calling in life too. So she gets this...story idea and asks for his help with it. He's a photographer. Apparently she promised it would send both of their careers sky rocketing."
Bitterness tinged her voice. "And she was right. It did. And I found out like everyone else did...when their names appeared together on the front page of the Planet."
Dean walked over and sat down next to her. "My God, Chloe," he replied, seeing her downtrodden face and wishing them all dead. "I'd take off, too... either that or wail on something... or someone." He put an arm around her. "I'm sorry. Very sorry." He used his free hand to pull her chin up, so she could look at him. "I'm glad you told me, though. Believe it or not, I've been... wondering a lot about you."
She closed her eyes and leaned her head on his shoulder. "I had to get out of there," she whispered.
"Of course you did," he replied, kissing the top of her head and resting his cheek against her hair. "I doubt I'd could work with Sam if he had done something so... underhanded."
"Somehow I don't think Sam would do that to you."
Dean shrugged. "He's a college boy... not out to make a name for himself." He smiled sadly. "Not anymore, it seems." He sighed softly and closed his eyes, moving closer to her to curl both arms around her.
She shut her eyes more tightly, her head coming to rest against his collarbone. God, it felt good to be held. She couldn't remember the last time someone had simply hugged her, comforted her. It felt like forever.
He felt her relax against him and pulled her closer. There was nothing he could say to take away her pain; he knew that. The best thing he could do was hold her and hope she'd understand he wanted her around, wouldn't betray her because he had come to like her too much to do something like that.
"Thanks for staying with me for awhile last night," she whispered.
"For what it's worth, I... didn't want to leave you. But I had to talk to Sam."
"It's okay, Dean. You don't owe me anything." She slowly pulled away from him, letting out a breath. "You guys letting me tag along...means a lot."
He smiled, though it didn't touch his eyes. "Can't help it if I'm a sucker for pretty blondes stranded on the side of the road." He winked at her, though his tone remained a little serious.
She held his gaze, swallowing hard. "Dean..."
He held up a hand. "It's okay, Chloe. Really. You don't know how much you're helping us... even if I still don't like putting your life in danger." She still looked dubious at his words.
"I'll earn my keep," she said with resolve. "I'm good at this stuff. Really good."
"I know you are," he replied softly, looking at her. "But this is personal for you now, isn't it?"
"You bet your ass it is," she said quietly.
Dean saw the determination in her face and frowned. "That's not good in this line of work," he replied quietly. "It can get you killed."
"Are you telling me you've never gotten personally involved in a case before?"
"No, I can't say that... though the last time I did, I nearly died." He winced at the memory of the last hunt for the demon that had killed so many people in his family.
"Well, I have died before," she told him bluntly. "And come close to it about a dozen times besides."
Dean blinked in surprise, wondering what this woman had been through. "I'm guessing it's been a messy, strange life you've left, then?"
A dark smile touched her lips, and darkened her eyes as well. "That's one way to put it."
How was it that Chloe suddenly made him feel weak? He literally did... weak in places she wasn't ready to hear about. "How's the head?" he asked a little hoarsely.
"Still a little headachy. I'll live." She let out a breath, falling silent for a moment. "Where will you two head after this job's over?"
Dean had been so wrapped up in this job that he didn't even think about what was coming next. "I don't know," he replied uncertainly. "Since Dad... We'll head to wherever the next hunt'll be." He looked at her, a curious look on his face. "You want to come with us?" he asked quietly.
She was silent for a moment. "You want me to come with you?"
He was a little shocked that he had asked her that question, but a little more surprised she'd responded with a similar one. "Sure, why not? You're nicer to look at than Sammy, that's sure."
A smile tugged at her lips. "Gee. Good to know you're more attracted to me than your little brother," she said wryly.
He crossed his arms and feigned shock. "Gimme a pretty girl to look at any day," he replied with a smirk, his eyes lazily trailing her curves.
She felt her cheeks flush and she rolled her eyes. She wasn't used to hearing things like that from guys--let alone really hot ones. The thought startled her and she wondered why. Dean definitely fell into the 'hot' category. She gave him a look. "Funny."
"Not funny," he replied, still staring at her intently. "Very, very true." He took a step towards her involuntarily, as if to reassure her that he found her completely attractive.
Chloe swallowed hard, feeling slightly intimidated but not in a bad way. She gazed up at him, her heart pounding more quickly in her chest.
Dean noticed the emotion cross Chloe's face but kept moving towards her, as if his body was possessed by something greater than his mind could handle. He suddenly needed her to know how much she attracted him. Even if she was in love with someone else.
He moved to her until his body was inches from hers and brushed her arms with his hands, never breaking their eye contact.
And that was when Sam knocked on the connecting door. Loudly.
Startled, Chloe flinched, her eyes widening a little.
Dean bit back a curse as he abruptly let her go, striding over to the door and yanking it open. "What?" he demanded harshly.
"I talked to Ash," Sam said without hesitation, moving past his brother and into the room.
Watching Sam brush by him, Dean leaned painfully against the door. "... and? What'd 'Dr. Badass' have to say?" He glared at his brother, hating Sam's innate sense of timing.
"He's on it," he answered tiredly.
Chloe looked between them, a completely lost expression on her face. "Guys? Who's Ash?"
Sam looked at Dean, a blank expression on his face. He'd forgotten: Chloe didn't know anything about their lives. Maybe it was time she learned a little. He nodded at his brother, a question in his eyes.
Frowning, as if to say 'smooth move, dude', Dean looked at Chloe. "Just a guy we know from... well, let's just say he's damn good at random patterns."
"Random patterns as in...finding patterns of...demons and that kind of thing?" she asked slowly.
"Among other things," Sam replied carefully. "Dude's the best researcher I've ever met."
"Dude, he's the ONLY researcher you've ever met," Dean replied with a smirk.
Throwing a frustrated glare at Dean, he said, "Let me re-phrase that. He's the only MIT graduate that hangs out in a bar researcher I've ever met."
Chloe shook her head slightly as she did her best to follow the conversation. "MIT. That's impressive." She leaned back against the edge of the table, feeling more than a little out of place.
"Wouldn't know it to look at the guy," Dean muttered. "Looks more like something that got left at a Lynard Skynard concert."
She raised an eyebrow. "Sometimes geniuses come in odd packages...even if they turn out to be evil ones," she murmured, thinking of Lionel Luthor.
"Oh, this one's definitely odd," Dean said, smiling a little at her. "Did he say anything about when he'd call?" he asked, looking at Sam, though another question was in his eyes.
Shifting uncomfortably, he replied, "Said he'd call when he has something. You know Ash: probably won't take him long. A day, maybe?" He stared back at Dean, as if to tell him no one else knew about this.
With a faint nod, Dean turned his head and stared out the window.
Yeah. She was definitely out of place. Chloe knew when someone was keeping something to themselves and while she was curious, she had a feeling it wasn't any of her business. "I'm gonna go grab some more of that courtesy coffee in the lobby. I'll be back." She headed for the door.
Dean called after her. "Chloe..." But she was out the door before he could say anything else. Wiping a hand over his face, he said, "Your timing sucks, as usual." He turned a serious look in Sam's direction.
"Or maybe I'm really good at timing," he replied, looking at his brother evenly.
"Dude, I was just getting her to talk to me," he protested.
"Yeah cause you're required to get that close to a person in order to have a conversation."
Pointing to the door, he growled, "THAT is a woman who doesn't even know her own power. I was just trying to... show her that." God, how intensely lame did he sound? he thought to himself as he dropped his hand.
"Right, so you weren't about to kiss her." His voice was dry.
"Who are you, her big brother?" he demanded, hating Sam for knowing him too well.
Sam simply looked at him.
Under the weight of that stare, Dean looked down and shrugged. "So what if I was? Not like it hasn't happened before," he grumbled under his breath.
He rose to his feet. "Yeah. The problem is...God, there's so many problems with this whole situation I don't even know where to start, Dean."
He crossed his arms and kept his eyes on the floor. "Tell me about it," he sighed.
"She seems like a very nice girl," Sam said quietly. "I just don't think that...it's a good idea right now, Dean."
Running a hand through his hair, he replied, "I know. God, I know. She's... the nicest girl I've ever met." He looked over at Sam, suddenly weary and burdened by everything she had told him about her past. And why she was running from it.
Gazing back at his brother it dawned on him that his brother had already developed feelings for the pretty blonde. "Just...be careful." His voice was quiet.
"Easy for you to say, Sammy," he replied quietly, walking to the window and looking out it. "Maybe I should hit that underground brainwashing thing you saw in your vision. Might make..." He swallowed visibly. He didn't really mean that, though it would make things... easier.
Sam flinched. "Don't say things like that," he said, his voice strained.
Sighing, he whispered, "Why not? I don't need an attraction on top of everything... else."
"Look...it's not like she's gonna be with us forever anyway. Let's just...figure this thing out and..." The way Dean diverted his gaze made Sam stop. "What did you do?"
Wincing at Sam's tone, he growled, "Kinda invited her to stay with us... as long as she needed to." His gaze turned stubborn.
Sam looked at him in disbelief.
"Come on, like you wouldn't do the same thing," he snapped, his mind going back to Sam's involvement with Meg.
"Hey, I never invited Meg to come along with us," he snapped back, glaring at his brother.
"But I bet if she hadn't been so buckets of crazy, you would have," he replied stubbornly, never breaking Sam's gaze.
"No, I wouldn't have, Dean," Sam replied, his voice bordering on harsh. "Because in case you haven't noticed, the girls that are around me tend to end up dead."
"That's cap, Sammy. Sarah didn't die, did she?"
"We were around Sarah for four days, Dean!"
"And she probably would have come with us if you'd have asked her!"
Sam looked at him like he was crazy. "Maybe. The point is, what we do is dangerous! You wanna get her killed?"
Having never come down from the anger over what Chloe had told him, Sam's words just about knocked Dean senseless. Balling his fist, he pulled back and punched Sam in the gun, making him reel back against the wall.
"Dean! What the hell are you doing?" Chloe had stepped back into her room just in time to see him pound Sam in the stomach. She shot him a stunned look and moved to Sam's side.
It took Sam a minute to fully recover from Dean's fist, his breathing hard from his anger towards his older brother's stupidity, and looked at Chloe. "I'm okay," he whispered. "We were just talking."
Dean said nothing, his fists still balled into rocks, as he continued to glare at Sam. Deep down inside, however, he knew Sam was right: it'd be murder, asking Chloe to go with them. What had he been thinking?
"Easy," she whispered, helping Sam over to the bed to sit down. "If this is what it looks like when you guys talk, I'd hate to see you fight," she said wryly, turning to look at Dean, giving him a look that was generally reserved for Clark when he was being an idiot.
"Usually involves blood," Dean grunted in reply, seeing the 'are you kidding me?' look in her eyes and forcing himself to calm down.
Sitting on the bed, Sam looked at Dean and rasped, "Dude, you suck, you know what?"
"You all right, Sam?" Chloe's voice was gentle as she looked at him with concern. She glared at Dean. "If you broke any ribs, I'm gonna break your nose," she said, without a hint of joking in her voice.
"I'll live," Sam replied softly, smiling a little despite the ache. He almost felt sorry for Dean. Almost.
Dean just looked at her. "Now's not a good time for throwing out threats," he warned, not moving a muscle.
She rose to her feet, hands on her hips. "What? Are you gonna hit me, too?" she demanded, still glaring.
"Chloe --" Sam started.
"Hell, no I'm not going to hit you," Dean snarked back, turning his burning stare on her. The anger inflaming his attraction to her. That attraction he didn't want to have.
"Then don't hit your brother, either. Cause if I see it happen again, I'm not gonna hesitate to sock you one if he's too nice to do it." Her eyes were filled with dark anger, as well. She had no idea what made her say that. She'd never hit anyone in her entire life except out of self-defense. Well...except that one time she knocked out Martha Kent.
Something about the image of Chloe trying to hit him made him laugh, and his anger dissipated. Even if the attraction had not. Looking at his brother, he said, "See? THIS is why she needs to come with us. Look at her. I think she could take someone down -- well, maybe not me."
Sam shook his head, putting it between his hands.
"Oh, I could take you down," she said, annoyed that he was laughing at her. "Maybe not with my fists, but I'm pretty sure my taser gun would do it."
The laughter died in his voice as he remembered the last time he'd encountered a taser gun. "Hey, you keep that damn thing away from me," he said in a dark voice.
"Chloe," he began again. "Dean and tasers don't mix well."
"Last I checked noone and tasers mix well," she retorted. "But they come in pretty handy when someone's trying to have you thrown into a mental asylum."
Dean looked at her like she'd lost her mind. "Who the hell said we were going to put you in a mental institution?!"
Chloe rolled her eyes. "Forget it. It's a long story." And one she wasn't ready to tell.
"And something tells me you've fulfilled your sharing quota for the month," Dean retorted hotly.
"Dean," Sam interrupted, "shut the hell up." They had better things to do than yell at each other, he thought.
"More like a lifetime," she responded, her voice flat as her defenses rose once more. "I'm going out." She grabbed her purse off the table and headed for the door.
"Chloe," Sam called, glaring at his brother. "Dean's leaving. Now. Please stay with me."
Dean looked between Chloe and Sam, his eyes hard and emotionless. Feeling shut out and rejected, he promptly swirled around and stormed through the connecting door, slamming it behind him.
She flinched slightly at the loud sound, her shoulders slumping slightly as she closed her eyes, her back to Sam.
Standing up very slowly, Sam rubbed his sore ribs and tried to smile. "Sorry you had to see us having... a debate." He frowned at her sad stance, which seemed only moments before to be way too curious yet scared of Dean.
She shrugged a little, still looking crestfallen as she turned to face him. "Is that what they call a sucker punch these days?"
"It is when I pissed Dean off like I did," he said quietly, his eyes softening in worry. "Usually takes a lot to do that."
"He shouldn't have hit you."
"Believe me, he's done worse to me," he replied in that same quiet, even tone.
She stared at him. "What do you mean?"
"Let's just put it this way," Sam replied. "Growing up with Dean wasn't.... easy. He's always been hard-headed and stubborn, but that's because Dad pushed him so hard. Plus he's just a typical older brother." He looked sheepishly at Chloe. "Not like I haven't deserved some of what he's dealt out."
Chloe was quiet for a moment. Then she moved to sit down on the edge of the bed, looking weary. "But you guys are close." It wasn't a question.
Sam smiled sadly. "Yeah," he replied. "Dean would do anything for me... and vice versa. I just know how to get his goat sometimes." He looked at Chloe, seeing in her a light he believed Dean saw, as well.
"Family has a way of doing that," she murmured.
"Especially when they're talking about..." He paused, not knowing how to continue.
"Bringing some random chick along on a family road trip?" she quipped.
Blushing a little, he replied, "Actually, it was more about keeping her along on the road trip." He took a couple steps towards her. "Hanging out with us... you could die, Chloe."
A short chuckle escaped her, but the laugh didn't reach her eyes. "Well, it wouldn't be the first time."
Sam smiled a little in response. "I take it you've been through your own share of insanity?"
"Smallville's...sort of the central for insanity." In more ways than one, she thought bitterly.
Sam stared at her, waiting for her to say something further. But when she didn't speak, he sighed. "Dean knows a little about insanity, Chloe. Hell, maybe he's a little insane, too. But that doesn't make him a bad man... Just... be careful, okay?"
Her eyebrows furrowed a little as she looked at him. "I never said he was. And I'm not...intending to get...romantically intangled," she told him quietly.
"What you want and what actually happens might be completely different," He said, putting a hesitant hand on her shoulder. He looked down, not knowing what else to say.
She looked up at him with a startled expression. "Are you trying to tell me your brother's a player?"
A year ago, Sam wouldn't have hesitated to tell Chloe exactly how much his brother played the field. But ever since their father died... Sam shook his head, shaking himself out of his thoughts. "No, just that... I've never seen him look at a woman the way he does at you."
Chloe swallowed hard, dropping her gaze. "Then you're probably right," she whispered. "I should...go off on my own after this is over."
"Not if Dean has anything to say about it," he replied, moving away from her and towards the connecting door. "Did Dean... tell you about my vision?"
"He mentioned it. There's...some kind of underground brainwashing facility guarded by a demon." She shudddered involuntarily, closing her eyes as a wave of nausea swept over her.
Sam saw Chloe sway a little and rushed over to help her. "You alright?" he whispered, suddenly afraid that something had happened to her at the church gathering last night. After all, they had gone separately... and he'd lost sight of her for awhile... hadn't he? His head began to swim suddenly with a myriad of images.
She leaned against him heavily, feeling like there was something just beyond her mind's grasp that she couldn't quite see. "Something's wrong," she whispered.
"Yes," he agreed, holding onto her so she didn't slink down to the floor. "You've got to remember... You have to --" His words stopped as he tried to remember what had happened. There was the sermon, the incessant droning of that demonic preacher. The overwhelming feeling of guilt and sin... that he was somehow tainted by everything he did. That horrible woman with the daughter. Losing sight of
Chloe....
"I'm gonna throw up," she whispered, quickly pulling away from him and rushing into the bathroom, emptying the meager contents of her stomach into the porcelain bowl.
Sam let her go, listening to the sounds of her retching and feeling nauseous himself. Where had that preacher disappeared to? he kept asking himself, waiting for her to appear.
Collapsing against the bathtub, Chloe shut her eyes against the hot stinging tears that trickled down her cheeks. She didn't know how she knew it because she didn't remember it...but she knew she'd been in that underground facility. They'd gotten inside her head and done something to her mind.
When she didn't return from the bathroom, Sam went in and checked on her. He nearly sunk to his knees when he saw her crumpled up like a ball on the floor, her face devestated, the tears rolling down her cheeks. "Oh God," he whispered, crouching down to her. "He took you down, there, didn't he? It's why I'd lost sight of you."
She looked up at him with fear in her eyes. "I think so," she admitted in a barely audible voice.
"It's why you're so sick... and why you can't remember," he commented without any emotion in his voice. "What DO you remember about last night at that damn meeting?"
Chloe shut her eyes, forcing herself to draw in a breath. "I remember...dinner. Sort of. I remember um...that creepy ass preacher telling me he was glad I showed up because he thought I fit in perfectly." She winced, pressing one hand to her head.
"The preacher dude snuck out right after dinner, right about the time I lost sight of you." He bit back painful memories of the women crowding around him, hanging on every syllable he tried to utter, which the particularly fat one with the daughter had an unholy look in her eye when she gazed at him. That alone made Sam want to vomit.
Wrapping her arms around herself, she let out a shaky breath. "We have to stop these people."
"We will," he promised. "Somehow, we'll make them pay for what they've done to you." Dean would agree with him, he thought. He'd probably leave the charge, if that was possible. Helping her up, he asked, "Something... someone I can get for you?"
She looked up at him with haunted eyes and wordlessly yet hesitantly slid her arms around his waist.
A little surprised at her movement, Sam nevertheless folded his arms around her and hugged her tightly for a moment. An awkward moment, but it was reassuring to be able to hug another human being.
Chloe shut her eyes, not feeling as physically comfortable with Sam as she was with Dean, but feeling somewhat comforted nonetheless. "Sorry," she whispered, slowly pulling away.
"It's okay," he whispered, stepping away from her. "I'd say I'd bring him in, but you probably don't need that right now."
"Especially not when he's pissed off." A faint, sad smile touched her lips.
"Eh, knowing Dean, he's just put another fist through the hotel wall and has gotten over it." He watched her closely, knowing she wished he was there. But since it wasn't his place to interfere, he made no attempt to get his brother in here.
"So what's our next move?" she asked, lifting her chin to look at him.
"We need to find out what kind of demon I saw in my vision," he replied matter-of-factly. "I'll bet once that thing's out of the way, the rest will be easy as... really difficult pie." He scratched his head, wondering for the first time exactly how they were going to bring down this clearly evil facet of humanity.
Chloe was silent for a moment, her mind turning things over. "If all these people are brainwashed...what if we found some of those people who...do the deprogramming?" She looked at him. "I've heard there are people and groups who do that. Remove people from cults and get them past the brainwashing."
"Come to think of it," he said, suddenly wishing he had his laptop with him, "there ARE groups out there who do just that. Now it's just a matter of locating one in Topeka. Shouldn't be too difficult to find, since this is a large city." He headed for the connecting doors. "I'll just grab my laptop and we can start searching for that."
"Okay," she said softly, watching him head into the other room and biting her lower lip.
Sam headed into the room he was sharing with his brother, casting a glance back toward Chloe's room before making eye contact with Dean, who simply glared at him.
"I wanna see her," he said flatly, the anger still bubbling up in his eyes, though he had long ago ceased his incessant pacing and started wondering what they had been doing in that room. What they had been talking about.
"Dean, I'm pretty sure they've had her down there," he said quietly, moving to get his laptop.
"I know that, dude," he replied. "I don't know much about her, but... she's not been acting herself since you two got back. Which begs the question... where are you going?" Not the question he had intended to ask, but he couldn't believe Sam was leaving him again.
"Just back to Chloe's room. She had an idea we're gonna try to run down on the internet."
"Great," he grumbled, feeling more out the loop than he had before Sam walked through the door.
He gave his brother a look. "She thought it'd be a good idea to locate one of those groups that does the cult removal and deprogramming when someone's been brainwashed."
He nodded, though he still felt very much like the third wheel. "It's a good idea," he said, his voice flat and emotionless. Guess that meant another night of staking out for him, because between Sam and Chloe's undercover status and research, he honestly didn't know what to do with himself. Fumbling for his keys, he said, "Call me if you find something."
"Dean, I think you should hang around. Chloe's pretty wrecked right now." His voice was quiet.
"Why?" he asked, looking down at the Impala's keys in his hand. "She didn't seem to want me around a little while ago." *8
"Get over the wounded pride thing, would ya? No one ever got laid like that," Sam shot back with a smirk.
Dean cocked an eyebrow and looked up. "Who said anything about getting laid? Weren’t you the one who told me to not hurt her?"
"Damn right." Sam gazed at him. "But considering I think there's more to your feelings for her than sex..." He shrugged slightly, heading for Chloe's room.
Dean blinked in surprise, following Sam into Chloe's room out of habit more than anything. He was just on the verge of asking Sam just what the hell he was talking about when he saw Chloe sitting at her laptop, trying to research, though her empty eyes just stared at the screen.
And all thoughts of leaving flew out of his mind immediately.
She heard the footsteps and glanced at him over her shoulder, their gazes meeting. "Hey."
"Hey," he whispered, staring into her eyes and wishing he could remove the emptiness he found there. The utter desolation. "Got something yet?" he asked, sitting at the table with her.
Sam sat on the extra bed and opened up his laptop and started his own research.
"No, not yet." She glanced at him, biting her lower lip, and then casting a sideways glance at Sam, who was already engrossed in the research. "Can we..." She nodded toward his room without finishing.
A faint smile on his face, Dean nodded and stood up, letting Chloe pass as he followed her into his room. Shutting the door, he leaned against it, not sure what was going on. The haunted look on her face bothered him. He watched her sit in the nearest chair.
"I'm sorry about earlier," she murmured, not meeting his gaze.
Looking down, he took a deep breath. "So am I," he replied softly. "Sam pissed me off, like he does, and..." He shrugged carelessly, as if trying to shrug it off.
"It's kinda weird," she said, looking a little uncomfortable.
Dean smirked sadly. "Which part? Snapping at each other, beating up Sam, or this freaky ass thing you two are tangled up in?"
"Well, all of that, but..." She looked at him with a slightly confused expression on her face. "I feel oddly protective of your brother."
Moving away from the door, Dean sat down next to her and took her hand in his. "Sam seems to bring that out in people," he whispered with a small, thoughtful smile. "God knows I'd do anything to protect him."
"Yeah, but...you're his brother. I'm basically a stranger off the street," she said.
He looked up at her. "You're also a good, strong, kind-hearted woman," he replied without hesitation. "Someone Sam needs right now."
The inflection of his voice gave her pause. "Is there something going on I don't know about?"
Dean's eyes wavered away from her face. He looked down, not wanting to betray the memory and pain that her question brought up. "Yes," he said slowly and with a great deal of effort.
"Oh," she whispered, falling silent. She hesitated a moment then placed a hand on his shoulder .
Taking another deep breath, he continued. "Our father... he died a couple months ago."
Chloe's eyes grew wide. "I'm so sorry," she whispered.
Nodding, he didn't look at her. Couldn't handle looking up. He didn't want her to see how pissed he was at Dad for dying, how he didn't know what to do or how to kill the thing that got him. Both their parents. With the Colt gone. "Yeah, Sam's taken it hard."
She was quiet for a moment. "I don't think he's the only one."
"I'm fine," he protested softly, the muscle in his jaw clenching tightly. *
"Dean," she whispered, her eyes filled with sadness. Hesitating, she slowly slid her arms around him, resting her head against his.
"Really, I'm fine," he whispered, this time more brokenly as he felt her arms press him against her. He wanted nothing more than to hug her back, but his body felt like lead.
Without thinking about it, she pressed a kiss to his temple, drawing him closer to her. She rubbed his back gently, remaining quiet.
Mechanically, Dean's arms went around her. The anger over his father's death bubbled up into his throat, making his eyes burn with tears. Something he didn't want to shed. Especially not in front of her. Not right now, anyway.
She felt his resistance, but kept her arms around him anyway, not sure which of them was more comforted by the embrace.
He forced himself to relax in her arms. After all, she hugged HIM. Not something he'd expected in a million years. Drawing her closer to him, he sighed and tucked her head under his chin.
"Is there anything I can do?" she whispered.
"This is nice right now," he admitted quietly, keeping her close to him.
She couldn't disagree, simply remaining still in his embrace, one of her hands resting lightly on the back of his neck.
Sighing, he moved his head to kiss the top of her head... then her cheek. Pulling her back, Dean leaned forward to kiss her lush lips but paused, feeling the awkwardness of the moment from the look in her eyes.
"I'm sorry," she whispered again, this time for a different reason.
He pulled back to stare at her. He didn't see rejection in her eyes, though he knew... "It's okay," he replied softly, trying to smile.
Chloe dropped her gaze. "I can't say I'm not...attracted to you," she admitted. "I'm just..."
"... still recovering from someone who didn't love you?" he asked, cocking his eyebrow.
She glanced up at him, her eyes sad. "Something like that."
He touched her cheek a little. "Besides, I know you're attracted to me," he replied with a small, flirtatious smile.
"And how do you know that?" A faint smirk tugged at her lips as she gazed at him, not moving away from his gentle touch.
"I have ESP," he joked, leaning in and kissing her cheek quickly and pulling back before he changed his mind about not kissing her lips.
"Well, I guess the psychic thing runs in your family then," she teased.
"Guess so," he teased back, standing up and pulling her into a loose embrace.
She rested her head against his collarbone, closing her eyes.
"I could hold you all day," he said, his voice hoarse. He felt way too possessive of this blonde woman, and that scared him. He didn't know why, but for some reason, she was... fragile. And he wanted to handle her with care. He stepped back.
She swallowed hard, feeling shaken by his words, wanting to believe them and afraid to at the same time. She'd been hurt too many times. "We should… help Sam," she whispered.
"We should," he replied, looking back towards the connecting door, "though I don't know how much help I'll be. I get twitchy with all this... sitting around." He mustered a smile, though it didn't reach his eyes.
A smile tugged at her lips. "Me too," she admitted in a secretive whisper.
He gave her a lopsided grin. "Like to take the bull by the horns, huh?" he asked.
"Don't get me wrong...research is all right." She shrugged a little. "But it gets kinda tedious and boring." And after working side by side with Clark for the last two years--actually being involved in the non-research stuff--she wasn't sure she could return to the sidelines and watched as someone else did the more interesting part.
"Tedious and boring," he repeated her words. "Yeah, that's pretty much me." He smiled. "Thank you, Chloe."
"For what?" she asked, her eyebrows furrowing a little.
"For... this," he replied, mustering a sad smile. "I think... we both needed this."
Chloe gazed at him, nodding slowly. "Me too," she admitted, hesitating a second before kissing his cheek.
He leaned into her kiss, feeling his heart literally skip a beat at her uncharacteristic action. He kept his arms at his side, though he wanted to hug her again.
"Just FYI..." A smirk tugged at her lips. "You're much cuter than Clark or Jimmy." Without waiting for him to respond, she headed into the other room.
He broke out into a large, cheeky grin, despite the torrent of emotions they'd just been through. "Damn straight I am," he smirked, feeling for the first time as though he might have met someone who might get him, understand him. Following her through the door, he only hoped he could help her out when she needed him.
Story One: “The Demons We Hide”
Authors: Clarksmuse and X_tremeroswellian
Rated: R
Genre: Smallville/Supernatural crossover
Pairings: Eventual Chloe/Dean, of course
Spoilers: Spoiler speculation for Smallville; up through "No Exit" of Supernatural.
Feedback: Rocks our socks and you guys are awesome with it so thank you!!
Sam felt like he could have slept all day the following day, but he dragged himself out of bed. He noticed that Dean hadn't gotten back yet, which kind of worried him. Where his brother had been all night, he didn't know. That didn't make the number he was about to dial any easier.
Fumbling for his cell, Sam flipped to the number for the Roadhouse, praying that Ash picked up the phone.
"Roadhouse," Ellen said into the phone as she wiped down the counter.
Crap, Sam thought, pausing for a second. "Ellen... hi."
Her eyebrows furrowed for a moment. "Sam?"
"Yeah," he replied shyly. "It's Sam. How... how are you?"
Ellen was silent for a moment. "Just fine. How are you?"
"Fine." He didn't know what else to say. He heard her hard response to his calling. He knew she didn't want anything to do with them. "Uh, I need to speak to Ash."
"Sure thing," she said, her voice a bit softer. She looked toward the back. "Pick up the phone, Ash!"
Sam heard Ellen put the phone on the counter, obviously because Ash had taken his time getting to pick it up. In the background, Sam could hear Jo asking who was on the phone and Ellen brushing her question away with an obscure comment. 'Just as well', Sam thought. He didn't want to deal with Jo at the moment.
Several moments later, Ash answered the phone. "Ash?" he asked.
"What's up, Sam?"
"Dude, we need some help with a hunt we're doing," Sam said quickly, shaking his head to clear the cobwebs from his mind. Trying to think about what he'd witnessed last night....
"Whatcha hunting?"
"That's the thing. I don't know. It's huge and has a lot of teeth. Scariest looking thing I've seen in awhile," he replied.
"Well that narrows it down," the other man responded, laying back on his bed. "Where are you?"
"Topeka."
"Big thing with teeth in Topeka. I'll see what I can find."
Sam couldn't help but smile just a little bit. "You're going on just *that* information?" he asked, a little impressed.
"That's why they call me Dr. Badass, Sam," he said with a smirk. "I'm that good."
"I'll take your word on that," he replied with a wry smile. Trust Ash to make a comment like that. "Call me as soon as you find something... and Ash? Don't tell Ellen or Jo about this."
"Sure thing. I’ll have something soon, I'm sure," Ash said smugly.
"Yeah, I'll be waiting impatiently for your call," he retorted with a snark in his voice. He closed the phone and put it on the nightstand, just staring at it for a moment. He hoped Ash would call with something soon. In the meantime, he needed to concentrate on clearing his head of all the voices he heard in them. And of the latest vision that had nearly knocked him senseless.
&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&
Chloe had slept for nearly 12 hours and yet when she pulled herself out of bed the next day she felt as if she hadn't slept at all. She climbed in the shower, letting the hot water soothe her tired and aching bones, feeling like she'd been hit by a Mac truck. She'd just finished and had wrapped herself in the warm fluffy robe when there was a knock on the door of her motel room. Slowly padding across the room, she opened it to find Dean standing there with two styrofoam cups of coffee and a concerned, albeit tired look on his face. "Hey."
"Hey, yourself," he replied, trying to smile but not succeeding. "Mind if I come in?" He nodded towards Sam, who had fallen asleep again. Between the two of them, Dean didn't know who to be more concerned about. Her pale, sad face couldn't hide her fatigue.
"Sure." Chloe stepped aside, tucking some damp hair behind her ear and closing the door behind him as he stepped inside.
He handed her one of the coffee cups he held and sat down at the table. "Looks like you need that more than I do," he replied, noticing the fact that her shoulders were slumped with lethargy. "Did you sleep?" He stifled a yawn.
"Yeah. For hours. Don't feel like I slept at all though," she admitted, taking a long drink of the coffee and murmuring her thanks for it.
Frowning, Dean stared at her, his eyes dark with the kind of concern he had no name for. He sipped on his coffee and continued staring at her.
"I'm all right," she told him without looking at him. She could feel his gaze on her.
"Liar," he mumbled into his coffee, his eyes still on her, watching her every move. She shuffled to the table and sat slowly, as if in pain.
"Where've you been?" she asked quietly.
"Out," he said cryptically. He'd spent the entire night parked outside the Woodsboro Baptist Church for any strange activity... and had seen nothing. Heard nothing. And his thoughts had consumed him all night.
"That's specific," she said with a very faint smile.
Sighing in frustration, he looked down into his coffee. "I was at that church last night."
Her eyes widened. "You... what?"
"What? You and Sam can be brainwashed but I can't?" he retorted wryly. "I wanted to see..." He hesitated. She didn't know anything about Sam's latest vision. "Sam had a vision last night, and I wanted to see if I could find what he saw."
"What did he see?" she asked, voice barely above a whisper as she leaned toward him.
"He saw... some underground place with... a demon and a lot of people," he said tonelessly. "He thinks it might be where the believers are... taken... to be brainwashed." He looked up suddenly and into Chloe's confused, yet dull eyes. "Have you been there, Chloe?" he asked quietly.
She was silent, her head suddenly beginning to ache. "No." She shook her head a little.
He leaned forward and gently touched one of her hands. "How do you know?" he asked. "You haven't seemed yourself since..." 'Since you went there', he thought to himself.
"Because if I'd been there, I'd remember it!" She suddenly felt an intense wave of anxiety wash over her.
He stood up suddenly. "Chloe." Walking over to her, he crouched down and ran a hand over her hair. Her face spoke of an intense emotion he knew she had to get out. "I think maybe you're remembering something else," he said.
"Like what?" she whispered, trembling.
"You tell me," he replied, gently tucking her face into his chest. "What's this place making you think about?"
"You aren't supposed to secrets from people you care about," she whispered.
"What secrets are you talking about?" he asked. And who was the person she cared about? That was the question that had bothered him from the moment they crossed the Kansas state line.
She slowly pulled away from him, looking like death warmed over as she put her face in her hands. "It's not like I wanted to keep it from him. But it wasn't my decision to make. They always put me in the middle of all their crap!"
A shadow crossed his face as he watched her try to keep it together while they talked. "Who's... they?" he asked quietly.
"Clark and Lana," she said bitterly.
Ah. The big secret was out. These people must be the 'thing' she'd been running from when they picked her up. Hesitantly, he put a hand on her arm. "Friends of yours?"
"I made the mistake of thinking so."
"Mistake?" he repeated, hating that there wasn't something more he could do. "Can I ask... what happened to make you think they weren't your friends?"
"Apparently I shouldn't have kept Lana's pregnancy from Clark. Except it wasn't my place to tell him and it wasn't any of his damn business anyway." She stood up abruptly.
From his crouching position, Dean watched Chloe put physical distance between them. And he grew angry over these two people who clearly had no idea what kind of giving woman Chloe was. "You mean this dude got... mad at you because you didn't tell him something that didn't sound like any of his business?!" As he spoke, his frustration level rose, making him want to pound into the wall. Again.
Bitter tears sparkled in her eyes. "Clark thinks everything about Lana Lang is his business. And God help you if you don't agree."
Rolling his eyes, Dean said, "Yeah, I know girls like that. High maintenance... among other things." He saw the unshed tears, however, and stood. Closing the distance between them, he whispered, "You love him, don't you?"
She was silent for a long moment. "I've loved him for so long I don't remember what it was like not to," she admitted painfully.
Dean didn't know whether to be relieved or jealous. This Clark didn't deserve the kind of feelings she had for him. He was glad he would never meet this dude, because his days would be numbered. He looked down to keep her from seeing the anger in his eyes and nodded silently. He put a hand on her arm and rubbed it gently in comfort.
"The thing is...I was moving past him," she whispered, slowly sitting down on the edge of the bed. "I'd met someone else."
"I see," he replied slowly, standing in place, his head still down. "This guy... what happened with him?"
She was silent for a long moment, and when she spoke again her voice was thick. "Well...he and my cousin...started working together behind my back." The hurt was obvious on her face. "I can't be with someone I don't trust."
Dean simply nodded, knowing all too well how much trust had always been with him. That the root issue with him had always been trust. "What were they doing?"
A tear trickled down her cheek and she wiped it away quickly. "I'm a reporter...was...a reporter with the Daily Planet." She tried to smile but didn't manage it. "And all of a sudden my cousin Lois decided that's her calling in life too. So she gets this...story idea and asks for his help with it. He's a photographer. Apparently she promised it would send both of their careers sky rocketing."
Bitterness tinged her voice. "And she was right. It did. And I found out like everyone else did...when their names appeared together on the front page of the Planet."
Dean walked over and sat down next to her. "My God, Chloe," he replied, seeing her downtrodden face and wishing them all dead. "I'd take off, too... either that or wail on something... or someone." He put an arm around her. "I'm sorry. Very sorry." He used his free hand to pull her chin up, so she could look at him. "I'm glad you told me, though. Believe it or not, I've been... wondering a lot about you."
She closed her eyes and leaned her head on his shoulder. "I had to get out of there," she whispered.
"Of course you did," he replied, kissing the top of her head and resting his cheek against her hair. "I doubt I'd could work with Sam if he had done something so... underhanded."
"Somehow I don't think Sam would do that to you."
Dean shrugged. "He's a college boy... not out to make a name for himself." He smiled sadly. "Not anymore, it seems." He sighed softly and closed his eyes, moving closer to her to curl both arms around her.
She shut her eyes more tightly, her head coming to rest against his collarbone. God, it felt good to be held. She couldn't remember the last time someone had simply hugged her, comforted her. It felt like forever.
He felt her relax against him and pulled her closer. There was nothing he could say to take away her pain; he knew that. The best thing he could do was hold her and hope she'd understand he wanted her around, wouldn't betray her because he had come to like her too much to do something like that.
"Thanks for staying with me for awhile last night," she whispered.
"For what it's worth, I... didn't want to leave you. But I had to talk to Sam."
"It's okay, Dean. You don't owe me anything." She slowly pulled away from him, letting out a breath. "You guys letting me tag along...means a lot."
He smiled, though it didn't touch his eyes. "Can't help it if I'm a sucker for pretty blondes stranded on the side of the road." He winked at her, though his tone remained a little serious.
She held his gaze, swallowing hard. "Dean..."
He held up a hand. "It's okay, Chloe. Really. You don't know how much you're helping us... even if I still don't like putting your life in danger." She still looked dubious at his words.
"I'll earn my keep," she said with resolve. "I'm good at this stuff. Really good."
"I know you are," he replied softly, looking at her. "But this is personal for you now, isn't it?"
"You bet your ass it is," she said quietly.
Dean saw the determination in her face and frowned. "That's not good in this line of work," he replied quietly. "It can get you killed."
"Are you telling me you've never gotten personally involved in a case before?"
"No, I can't say that... though the last time I did, I nearly died." He winced at the memory of the last hunt for the demon that had killed so many people in his family.
"Well, I have died before," she told him bluntly. "And come close to it about a dozen times besides."
Dean blinked in surprise, wondering what this woman had been through. "I'm guessing it's been a messy, strange life you've left, then?"
A dark smile touched her lips, and darkened her eyes as well. "That's one way to put it."
How was it that Chloe suddenly made him feel weak? He literally did... weak in places she wasn't ready to hear about. "How's the head?" he asked a little hoarsely.
"Still a little headachy. I'll live." She let out a breath, falling silent for a moment. "Where will you two head after this job's over?"
Dean had been so wrapped up in this job that he didn't even think about what was coming next. "I don't know," he replied uncertainly. "Since Dad... We'll head to wherever the next hunt'll be." He looked at her, a curious look on his face. "You want to come with us?" he asked quietly.
She was silent for a moment. "You want me to come with you?"
He was a little shocked that he had asked her that question, but a little more surprised she'd responded with a similar one. "Sure, why not? You're nicer to look at than Sammy, that's sure."
A smile tugged at her lips. "Gee. Good to know you're more attracted to me than your little brother," she said wryly.
He crossed his arms and feigned shock. "Gimme a pretty girl to look at any day," he replied with a smirk, his eyes lazily trailing her curves.
She felt her cheeks flush and she rolled her eyes. She wasn't used to hearing things like that from guys--let alone really hot ones. The thought startled her and she wondered why. Dean definitely fell into the 'hot' category. She gave him a look. "Funny."
"Not funny," he replied, still staring at her intently. "Very, very true." He took a step towards her involuntarily, as if to reassure her that he found her completely attractive.
Chloe swallowed hard, feeling slightly intimidated but not in a bad way. She gazed up at him, her heart pounding more quickly in her chest.
Dean noticed the emotion cross Chloe's face but kept moving towards her, as if his body was possessed by something greater than his mind could handle. He suddenly needed her to know how much she attracted him. Even if she was in love with someone else.
He moved to her until his body was inches from hers and brushed her arms with his hands, never breaking their eye contact.
And that was when Sam knocked on the connecting door. Loudly.
Startled, Chloe flinched, her eyes widening a little.
Dean bit back a curse as he abruptly let her go, striding over to the door and yanking it open. "What?" he demanded harshly.
"I talked to Ash," Sam said without hesitation, moving past his brother and into the room.
Watching Sam brush by him, Dean leaned painfully against the door. "... and? What'd 'Dr. Badass' have to say?" He glared at his brother, hating Sam's innate sense of timing.
"He's on it," he answered tiredly.
Chloe looked between them, a completely lost expression on her face. "Guys? Who's Ash?"
Sam looked at Dean, a blank expression on his face. He'd forgotten: Chloe didn't know anything about their lives. Maybe it was time she learned a little. He nodded at his brother, a question in his eyes.
Frowning, as if to say 'smooth move, dude', Dean looked at Chloe. "Just a guy we know from... well, let's just say he's damn good at random patterns."
"Random patterns as in...finding patterns of...demons and that kind of thing?" she asked slowly.
"Among other things," Sam replied carefully. "Dude's the best researcher I've ever met."
"Dude, he's the ONLY researcher you've ever met," Dean replied with a smirk.
Throwing a frustrated glare at Dean, he said, "Let me re-phrase that. He's the only MIT graduate that hangs out in a bar researcher I've ever met."
Chloe shook her head slightly as she did her best to follow the conversation. "MIT. That's impressive." She leaned back against the edge of the table, feeling more than a little out of place.
"Wouldn't know it to look at the guy," Dean muttered. "Looks more like something that got left at a Lynard Skynard concert."
She raised an eyebrow. "Sometimes geniuses come in odd packages...even if they turn out to be evil ones," she murmured, thinking of Lionel Luthor.
"Oh, this one's definitely odd," Dean said, smiling a little at her. "Did he say anything about when he'd call?" he asked, looking at Sam, though another question was in his eyes.
Shifting uncomfortably, he replied, "Said he'd call when he has something. You know Ash: probably won't take him long. A day, maybe?" He stared back at Dean, as if to tell him no one else knew about this.
With a faint nod, Dean turned his head and stared out the window.
Yeah. She was definitely out of place. Chloe knew when someone was keeping something to themselves and while she was curious, she had a feeling it wasn't any of her business. "I'm gonna go grab some more of that courtesy coffee in the lobby. I'll be back." She headed for the door.
Dean called after her. "Chloe..." But she was out the door before he could say anything else. Wiping a hand over his face, he said, "Your timing sucks, as usual." He turned a serious look in Sam's direction.
"Or maybe I'm really good at timing," he replied, looking at his brother evenly.
"Dude, I was just getting her to talk to me," he protested.
"Yeah cause you're required to get that close to a person in order to have a conversation."
Pointing to the door, he growled, "THAT is a woman who doesn't even know her own power. I was just trying to... show her that." God, how intensely lame did he sound? he thought to himself as he dropped his hand.
"Right, so you weren't about to kiss her." His voice was dry.
"Who are you, her big brother?" he demanded, hating Sam for knowing him too well.
Sam simply looked at him.
Under the weight of that stare, Dean looked down and shrugged. "So what if I was? Not like it hasn't happened before," he grumbled under his breath.
He rose to his feet. "Yeah. The problem is...God, there's so many problems with this whole situation I don't even know where to start, Dean."
He crossed his arms and kept his eyes on the floor. "Tell me about it," he sighed.
"She seems like a very nice girl," Sam said quietly. "I just don't think that...it's a good idea right now, Dean."
Running a hand through his hair, he replied, "I know. God, I know. She's... the nicest girl I've ever met." He looked over at Sam, suddenly weary and burdened by everything she had told him about her past. And why she was running from it.
Gazing back at his brother it dawned on him that his brother had already developed feelings for the pretty blonde. "Just...be careful." His voice was quiet.
"Easy for you to say, Sammy," he replied quietly, walking to the window and looking out it. "Maybe I should hit that underground brainwashing thing you saw in your vision. Might make..." He swallowed visibly. He didn't really mean that, though it would make things... easier.
Sam flinched. "Don't say things like that," he said, his voice strained.
Sighing, he whispered, "Why not? I don't need an attraction on top of everything... else."
"Look...it's not like she's gonna be with us forever anyway. Let's just...figure this thing out and..." The way Dean diverted his gaze made Sam stop. "What did you do?"
Wincing at Sam's tone, he growled, "Kinda invited her to stay with us... as long as she needed to." His gaze turned stubborn.
Sam looked at him in disbelief.
"Come on, like you wouldn't do the same thing," he snapped, his mind going back to Sam's involvement with Meg.
"Hey, I never invited Meg to come along with us," he snapped back, glaring at his brother.
"But I bet if she hadn't been so buckets of crazy, you would have," he replied stubbornly, never breaking Sam's gaze.
"No, I wouldn't have, Dean," Sam replied, his voice bordering on harsh. "Because in case you haven't noticed, the girls that are around me tend to end up dead."
"That's cap, Sammy. Sarah didn't die, did she?"
"We were around Sarah for four days, Dean!"
"And she probably would have come with us if you'd have asked her!"
Sam looked at him like he was crazy. "Maybe. The point is, what we do is dangerous! You wanna get her killed?"
Having never come down from the anger over what Chloe had told him, Sam's words just about knocked Dean senseless. Balling his fist, he pulled back and punched Sam in the gun, making him reel back against the wall.
"Dean! What the hell are you doing?" Chloe had stepped back into her room just in time to see him pound Sam in the stomach. She shot him a stunned look and moved to Sam's side.
It took Sam a minute to fully recover from Dean's fist, his breathing hard from his anger towards his older brother's stupidity, and looked at Chloe. "I'm okay," he whispered. "We were just talking."
Dean said nothing, his fists still balled into rocks, as he continued to glare at Sam. Deep down inside, however, he knew Sam was right: it'd be murder, asking Chloe to go with them. What had he been thinking?
"Easy," she whispered, helping Sam over to the bed to sit down. "If this is what it looks like when you guys talk, I'd hate to see you fight," she said wryly, turning to look at Dean, giving him a look that was generally reserved for Clark when he was being an idiot.
"Usually involves blood," Dean grunted in reply, seeing the 'are you kidding me?' look in her eyes and forcing himself to calm down.
Sitting on the bed, Sam looked at Dean and rasped, "Dude, you suck, you know what?"
"You all right, Sam?" Chloe's voice was gentle as she looked at him with concern. She glared at Dean. "If you broke any ribs, I'm gonna break your nose," she said, without a hint of joking in her voice.
"I'll live," Sam replied softly, smiling a little despite the ache. He almost felt sorry for Dean. Almost.
Dean just looked at her. "Now's not a good time for throwing out threats," he warned, not moving a muscle.
She rose to her feet, hands on her hips. "What? Are you gonna hit me, too?" she demanded, still glaring.
"Chloe --" Sam started.
"Hell, no I'm not going to hit you," Dean snarked back, turning his burning stare on her. The anger inflaming his attraction to her. That attraction he didn't want to have.
"Then don't hit your brother, either. Cause if I see it happen again, I'm not gonna hesitate to sock you one if he's too nice to do it." Her eyes were filled with dark anger, as well. She had no idea what made her say that. She'd never hit anyone in her entire life except out of self-defense. Well...except that one time she knocked out Martha Kent.
Something about the image of Chloe trying to hit him made him laugh, and his anger dissipated. Even if the attraction had not. Looking at his brother, he said, "See? THIS is why she needs to come with us. Look at her. I think she could take someone down -- well, maybe not me."
Sam shook his head, putting it between his hands.
"Oh, I could take you down," she said, annoyed that he was laughing at her. "Maybe not with my fists, but I'm pretty sure my taser gun would do it."
The laughter died in his voice as he remembered the last time he'd encountered a taser gun. "Hey, you keep that damn thing away from me," he said in a dark voice.
"Chloe," he began again. "Dean and tasers don't mix well."
"Last I checked noone and tasers mix well," she retorted. "But they come in pretty handy when someone's trying to have you thrown into a mental asylum."
Dean looked at her like she'd lost her mind. "Who the hell said we were going to put you in a mental institution?!"
Chloe rolled her eyes. "Forget it. It's a long story." And one she wasn't ready to tell.
"And something tells me you've fulfilled your sharing quota for the month," Dean retorted hotly.
"Dean," Sam interrupted, "shut the hell up." They had better things to do than yell at each other, he thought.
"More like a lifetime," she responded, her voice flat as her defenses rose once more. "I'm going out." She grabbed her purse off the table and headed for the door.
"Chloe," Sam called, glaring at his brother. "Dean's leaving. Now. Please stay with me."
Dean looked between Chloe and Sam, his eyes hard and emotionless. Feeling shut out and rejected, he promptly swirled around and stormed through the connecting door, slamming it behind him.
She flinched slightly at the loud sound, her shoulders slumping slightly as she closed her eyes, her back to Sam.
Standing up very slowly, Sam rubbed his sore ribs and tried to smile. "Sorry you had to see us having... a debate." He frowned at her sad stance, which seemed only moments before to be way too curious yet scared of Dean.
She shrugged a little, still looking crestfallen as she turned to face him. "Is that what they call a sucker punch these days?"
"It is when I pissed Dean off like I did," he said quietly, his eyes softening in worry. "Usually takes a lot to do that."
"He shouldn't have hit you."
"Believe me, he's done worse to me," he replied in that same quiet, even tone.
She stared at him. "What do you mean?"
"Let's just put it this way," Sam replied. "Growing up with Dean wasn't.... easy. He's always been hard-headed and stubborn, but that's because Dad pushed him so hard. Plus he's just a typical older brother." He looked sheepishly at Chloe. "Not like I haven't deserved some of what he's dealt out."
Chloe was quiet for a moment. Then she moved to sit down on the edge of the bed, looking weary. "But you guys are close." It wasn't a question.
Sam smiled sadly. "Yeah," he replied. "Dean would do anything for me... and vice versa. I just know how to get his goat sometimes." He looked at Chloe, seeing in her a light he believed Dean saw, as well.
"Family has a way of doing that," she murmured.
"Especially when they're talking about..." He paused, not knowing how to continue.
"Bringing some random chick along on a family road trip?" she quipped.
Blushing a little, he replied, "Actually, it was more about keeping her along on the road trip." He took a couple steps towards her. "Hanging out with us... you could die, Chloe."
A short chuckle escaped her, but the laugh didn't reach her eyes. "Well, it wouldn't be the first time."
Sam smiled a little in response. "I take it you've been through your own share of insanity?"
"Smallville's...sort of the central for insanity." In more ways than one, she thought bitterly.
Sam stared at her, waiting for her to say something further. But when she didn't speak, he sighed. "Dean knows a little about insanity, Chloe. Hell, maybe he's a little insane, too. But that doesn't make him a bad man... Just... be careful, okay?"
Her eyebrows furrowed a little as she looked at him. "I never said he was. And I'm not...intending to get...romantically intangled," she told him quietly.
"What you want and what actually happens might be completely different," He said, putting a hesitant hand on her shoulder. He looked down, not knowing what else to say.
She looked up at him with a startled expression. "Are you trying to tell me your brother's a player?"
A year ago, Sam wouldn't have hesitated to tell Chloe exactly how much his brother played the field. But ever since their father died... Sam shook his head, shaking himself out of his thoughts. "No, just that... I've never seen him look at a woman the way he does at you."
Chloe swallowed hard, dropping her gaze. "Then you're probably right," she whispered. "I should...go off on my own after this is over."
"Not if Dean has anything to say about it," he replied, moving away from her and towards the connecting door. "Did Dean... tell you about my vision?"
"He mentioned it. There's...some kind of underground brainwashing facility guarded by a demon." She shudddered involuntarily, closing her eyes as a wave of nausea swept over her.
Sam saw Chloe sway a little and rushed over to help her. "You alright?" he whispered, suddenly afraid that something had happened to her at the church gathering last night. After all, they had gone separately... and he'd lost sight of her for awhile... hadn't he? His head began to swim suddenly with a myriad of images.
She leaned against him heavily, feeling like there was something just beyond her mind's grasp that she couldn't quite see. "Something's wrong," she whispered.
"Yes," he agreed, holding onto her so she didn't slink down to the floor. "You've got to remember... You have to --" His words stopped as he tried to remember what had happened. There was the sermon, the incessant droning of that demonic preacher. The overwhelming feeling of guilt and sin... that he was somehow tainted by everything he did. That horrible woman with the daughter. Losing sight of
Chloe....
"I'm gonna throw up," she whispered, quickly pulling away from him and rushing into the bathroom, emptying the meager contents of her stomach into the porcelain bowl.
Sam let her go, listening to the sounds of her retching and feeling nauseous himself. Where had that preacher disappeared to? he kept asking himself, waiting for her to appear.
Collapsing against the bathtub, Chloe shut her eyes against the hot stinging tears that trickled down her cheeks. She didn't know how she knew it because she didn't remember it...but she knew she'd been in that underground facility. They'd gotten inside her head and done something to her mind.
When she didn't return from the bathroom, Sam went in and checked on her. He nearly sunk to his knees when he saw her crumpled up like a ball on the floor, her face devestated, the tears rolling down her cheeks. "Oh God," he whispered, crouching down to her. "He took you down, there, didn't he? It's why I'd lost sight of you."
She looked up at him with fear in her eyes. "I think so," she admitted in a barely audible voice.
"It's why you're so sick... and why you can't remember," he commented without any emotion in his voice. "What DO you remember about last night at that damn meeting?"
Chloe shut her eyes, forcing herself to draw in a breath. "I remember...dinner. Sort of. I remember um...that creepy ass preacher telling me he was glad I showed up because he thought I fit in perfectly." She winced, pressing one hand to her head.
"The preacher dude snuck out right after dinner, right about the time I lost sight of you." He bit back painful memories of the women crowding around him, hanging on every syllable he tried to utter, which the particularly fat one with the daughter had an unholy look in her eye when she gazed at him. That alone made Sam want to vomit.
Wrapping her arms around herself, she let out a shaky breath. "We have to stop these people."
"We will," he promised. "Somehow, we'll make them pay for what they've done to you." Dean would agree with him, he thought. He'd probably leave the charge, if that was possible. Helping her up, he asked, "Something... someone I can get for you?"
She looked up at him with haunted eyes and wordlessly yet hesitantly slid her arms around his waist.
A little surprised at her movement, Sam nevertheless folded his arms around her and hugged her tightly for a moment. An awkward moment, but it was reassuring to be able to hug another human being.
Chloe shut her eyes, not feeling as physically comfortable with Sam as she was with Dean, but feeling somewhat comforted nonetheless. "Sorry," she whispered, slowly pulling away.
"It's okay," he whispered, stepping away from her. "I'd say I'd bring him in, but you probably don't need that right now."
"Especially not when he's pissed off." A faint, sad smile touched her lips.
"Eh, knowing Dean, he's just put another fist through the hotel wall and has gotten over it." He watched her closely, knowing she wished he was there. But since it wasn't his place to interfere, he made no attempt to get his brother in here.
"So what's our next move?" she asked, lifting her chin to look at him.
"We need to find out what kind of demon I saw in my vision," he replied matter-of-factly. "I'll bet once that thing's out of the way, the rest will be easy as... really difficult pie." He scratched his head, wondering for the first time exactly how they were going to bring down this clearly evil facet of humanity.
Chloe was silent for a moment, her mind turning things over. "If all these people are brainwashed...what if we found some of those people who...do the deprogramming?" She looked at him. "I've heard there are people and groups who do that. Remove people from cults and get them past the brainwashing."
"Come to think of it," he said, suddenly wishing he had his laptop with him, "there ARE groups out there who do just that. Now it's just a matter of locating one in Topeka. Shouldn't be too difficult to find, since this is a large city." He headed for the connecting doors. "I'll just grab my laptop and we can start searching for that."
"Okay," she said softly, watching him head into the other room and biting her lower lip.
Sam headed into the room he was sharing with his brother, casting a glance back toward Chloe's room before making eye contact with Dean, who simply glared at him.
"I wanna see her," he said flatly, the anger still bubbling up in his eyes, though he had long ago ceased his incessant pacing and started wondering what they had been doing in that room. What they had been talking about.
"Dean, I'm pretty sure they've had her down there," he said quietly, moving to get his laptop.
"I know that, dude," he replied. "I don't know much about her, but... she's not been acting herself since you two got back. Which begs the question... where are you going?" Not the question he had intended to ask, but he couldn't believe Sam was leaving him again.
"Just back to Chloe's room. She had an idea we're gonna try to run down on the internet."
"Great," he grumbled, feeling more out the loop than he had before Sam walked through the door.
He gave his brother a look. "She thought it'd be a good idea to locate one of those groups that does the cult removal and deprogramming when someone's been brainwashed."
He nodded, though he still felt very much like the third wheel. "It's a good idea," he said, his voice flat and emotionless. Guess that meant another night of staking out for him, because between Sam and Chloe's undercover status and research, he honestly didn't know what to do with himself. Fumbling for his keys, he said, "Call me if you find something."
"Dean, I think you should hang around. Chloe's pretty wrecked right now." His voice was quiet.
"Why?" he asked, looking down at the Impala's keys in his hand. "She didn't seem to want me around a little while ago." *8
"Get over the wounded pride thing, would ya? No one ever got laid like that," Sam shot back with a smirk.
Dean cocked an eyebrow and looked up. "Who said anything about getting laid? Weren’t you the one who told me to not hurt her?"
"Damn right." Sam gazed at him. "But considering I think there's more to your feelings for her than sex..." He shrugged slightly, heading for Chloe's room.
Dean blinked in surprise, following Sam into Chloe's room out of habit more than anything. He was just on the verge of asking Sam just what the hell he was talking about when he saw Chloe sitting at her laptop, trying to research, though her empty eyes just stared at the screen.
And all thoughts of leaving flew out of his mind immediately.
She heard the footsteps and glanced at him over her shoulder, their gazes meeting. "Hey."
"Hey," he whispered, staring into her eyes and wishing he could remove the emptiness he found there. The utter desolation. "Got something yet?" he asked, sitting at the table with her.
Sam sat on the extra bed and opened up his laptop and started his own research.
"No, not yet." She glanced at him, biting her lower lip, and then casting a sideways glance at Sam, who was already engrossed in the research. "Can we..." She nodded toward his room without finishing.
A faint smile on his face, Dean nodded and stood up, letting Chloe pass as he followed her into his room. Shutting the door, he leaned against it, not sure what was going on. The haunted look on her face bothered him. He watched her sit in the nearest chair.
"I'm sorry about earlier," she murmured, not meeting his gaze.
Looking down, he took a deep breath. "So am I," he replied softly. "Sam pissed me off, like he does, and..." He shrugged carelessly, as if trying to shrug it off.
"It's kinda weird," she said, looking a little uncomfortable.
Dean smirked sadly. "Which part? Snapping at each other, beating up Sam, or this freaky ass thing you two are tangled up in?"
"Well, all of that, but..." She looked at him with a slightly confused expression on her face. "I feel oddly protective of your brother."
Moving away from the door, Dean sat down next to her and took her hand in his. "Sam seems to bring that out in people," he whispered with a small, thoughtful smile. "God knows I'd do anything to protect him."
"Yeah, but...you're his brother. I'm basically a stranger off the street," she said.
He looked up at her. "You're also a good, strong, kind-hearted woman," he replied without hesitation. "Someone Sam needs right now."
The inflection of his voice gave her pause. "Is there something going on I don't know about?"
Dean's eyes wavered away from her face. He looked down, not wanting to betray the memory and pain that her question brought up. "Yes," he said slowly and with a great deal of effort.
"Oh," she whispered, falling silent. She hesitated a moment then placed a hand on his shoulder .
Taking another deep breath, he continued. "Our father... he died a couple months ago."
Chloe's eyes grew wide. "I'm so sorry," she whispered.
Nodding, he didn't look at her. Couldn't handle looking up. He didn't want her to see how pissed he was at Dad for dying, how he didn't know what to do or how to kill the thing that got him. Both their parents. With the Colt gone. "Yeah, Sam's taken it hard."
She was quiet for a moment. "I don't think he's the only one."
"I'm fine," he protested softly, the muscle in his jaw clenching tightly. *
"Dean," she whispered, her eyes filled with sadness. Hesitating, she slowly slid her arms around him, resting her head against his.
"Really, I'm fine," he whispered, this time more brokenly as he felt her arms press him against her. He wanted nothing more than to hug her back, but his body felt like lead.
Without thinking about it, she pressed a kiss to his temple, drawing him closer to her. She rubbed his back gently, remaining quiet.
Mechanically, Dean's arms went around her. The anger over his father's death bubbled up into his throat, making his eyes burn with tears. Something he didn't want to shed. Especially not in front of her. Not right now, anyway.
She felt his resistance, but kept her arms around him anyway, not sure which of them was more comforted by the embrace.
He forced himself to relax in her arms. After all, she hugged HIM. Not something he'd expected in a million years. Drawing her closer to him, he sighed and tucked her head under his chin.
"Is there anything I can do?" she whispered.
"This is nice right now," he admitted quietly, keeping her close to him.
She couldn't disagree, simply remaining still in his embrace, one of her hands resting lightly on the back of his neck.
Sighing, he moved his head to kiss the top of her head... then her cheek. Pulling her back, Dean leaned forward to kiss her lush lips but paused, feeling the awkwardness of the moment from the look in her eyes.
"I'm sorry," she whispered again, this time for a different reason.
He pulled back to stare at her. He didn't see rejection in her eyes, though he knew... "It's okay," he replied softly, trying to smile.
Chloe dropped her gaze. "I can't say I'm not...attracted to you," she admitted. "I'm just..."
"... still recovering from someone who didn't love you?" he asked, cocking his eyebrow.
She glanced up at him, her eyes sad. "Something like that."
He touched her cheek a little. "Besides, I know you're attracted to me," he replied with a small, flirtatious smile.
"And how do you know that?" A faint smirk tugged at her lips as she gazed at him, not moving away from his gentle touch.
"I have ESP," he joked, leaning in and kissing her cheek quickly and pulling back before he changed his mind about not kissing her lips.
"Well, I guess the psychic thing runs in your family then," she teased.
"Guess so," he teased back, standing up and pulling her into a loose embrace.
She rested her head against his collarbone, closing her eyes.
"I could hold you all day," he said, his voice hoarse. He felt way too possessive of this blonde woman, and that scared him. He didn't know why, but for some reason, she was... fragile. And he wanted to handle her with care. He stepped back.
She swallowed hard, feeling shaken by his words, wanting to believe them and afraid to at the same time. She'd been hurt too many times. "We should… help Sam," she whispered.
"We should," he replied, looking back towards the connecting door, "though I don't know how much help I'll be. I get twitchy with all this... sitting around." He mustered a smile, though it didn't reach his eyes.
A smile tugged at her lips. "Me too," she admitted in a secretive whisper.
He gave her a lopsided grin. "Like to take the bull by the horns, huh?" he asked.
"Don't get me wrong...research is all right." She shrugged a little. "But it gets kinda tedious and boring." And after working side by side with Clark for the last two years--actually being involved in the non-research stuff--she wasn't sure she could return to the sidelines and watched as someone else did the more interesting part.
"Tedious and boring," he repeated her words. "Yeah, that's pretty much me." He smiled. "Thank you, Chloe."
"For what?" she asked, her eyebrows furrowing a little.
"For... this," he replied, mustering a sad smile. "I think... we both needed this."
Chloe gazed at him, nodding slowly. "Me too," she admitted, hesitating a second before kissing his cheek.
He leaned into her kiss, feeling his heart literally skip a beat at her uncharacteristic action. He kept his arms at his side, though he wanted to hug her again.
"Just FYI..." A smirk tugged at her lips. "You're much cuter than Clark or Jimmy." Without waiting for him to respond, she headed into the other room.
He broke out into a large, cheeky grin, despite the torrent of emotions they'd just been through. "Damn straight I am," he smirked, feeling for the first time as though he might have met someone who might get him, understand him. Following her through the door, he only hoped he could help her out when she needed him.