SPN/SV Fic: Everything Will Be... (1/?)

[xtremeroswellia]

Title: Everything Will Be…
Authors: X_tremeroswellian and Shadow_One
Rated: R for language and violence
Spoilers: Up through and including “Freak” for Smallville and “Born Under a Bad Sign” for Supernatural although this is actually an alternate to the latter.
Feedback: Is love and keeps us writing.
Pairing: Dean/Chloe; hints of Sam/Chloe

One | Two | Three | Four and Five | Six | Conclusion



Everything Will Be (Chapter One)

Chloe wiped down the bar with a rag, tired but still filled with excitement. She'd interviewed for the position and been hired on the spot only a couple days before. Of course the bar's owner had no idea she was working undercover for an article on establishments that served alcohol to under-aged kids.

Nor did they know she wasn't even 21 yet herself. She heard the door open behind her and rolled her eyes. She'd already switched the sign to closed and she didn't understand why it was so difficult to read a damn sign. "We're closed," she said without turning around.

"Even for someone like me?"

Startled by the familiar voice, she quickly turned and saw Sam Winchester standing a few feet away. She grinned at him. "Hey, Sam!"

He smiled, "Hey Chloe. Long time no see."

"Have a seat. What can I get you? And how on earth did you find me?" she asked curiously.

Putting his hands in his pockets, he sat down casually at the barstool, "Just a beer. And I figured I'd drop in. I was in town."

She smiled at him and set a beer in front of him. "Yeah? How have things been? How's Dean?"

He took the beer and stared at it, "He's fine."

She gazed at him. "Okay...are you?" Her voice was soft, her green eyes worried.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm good."

"Are you sure? You seem...I don't know. Distracted?"

He looked up and took her hand in his, "It's because I've realized something."

Chloe looked down at their hands for a moment, suddenly feeling uncomfortable. "What's that?"

"That...Dean doesn't like you in the way you think."

Her eyebrows furrowed a little. "I'm sorry?"

He smiled, "He doesn't like you in that way. He never has."

She slowly pulled her hand away from his. "Well, I think you're over-estimating my feelings for your brother. He's a nice guy, but he's not exactly my type anyway." A blatant lie.

He laughed, "See, I think you're lying."

"Yeah, well you barely know me."

"I know you enough to know that I could be more to you than Dean can."

*That* startled her. She stared at him. "Sam, what are you...?"

He came closer to her, "You know what I'm talking about."

Chloe gazed up at him and it occurred to her that something wasn't right. Sam wasn't this forward, wasn't this pushy. She didn't have to know him very long to learn that.

"Come on Chloe, I can give you more. More than *he* ever could."

Her stomach tightened and she looked down at the floor, pretending to contemplate what he was saying. In reality she was attempting to figure out how quickly she could get the holy water from her purse.

His grip tightened on her arm, "Come on Chloe."

She winced involuntarily and then looked up at him. "Okay. Let me just get my things and...we can...go back to my place," she suggested.

"No...I think we should stay here."

Chloe swallowed hard. Somehow he knew she knew something was off with him. "Okay. Let's sit down and talk."

He didn't let up on his grip on her wrist, "Okay."

She slowly sat down on one of the stools, still gazing up at him intently and trying to figure out exactly what was going on. "So are you saying that you...have feelings for me?" she asked very softly.

"Yeah." He said softly, bringing his other hand up and caressing her face.

"How uh...how long have you...felt this way, Sam?"

"For a...long time." He whispered, face coming close to hers.

There was a flash of something dark in his eyes and she knew this definitely wasn't Sam Winchester. Her mind flew through the possibilities: shape shifter, demonic possession, doppleganger. Her heart was pounding in her ears. She had to get away from him.

He felt her trying to pull away and pulled her into his arms, breathing her in, "Come on Chloe, don't resist."

She shuddered and then brought her foot down hard on top of his, lunging away from him.

He growled in pain as she slipped away. Recovering quickly, he grabbed Chloe back to him, "You know, it didn't have to be this way."

"Let go of me! I know you're not Sam!"

Putting his head to her neck, he kissed it, "Oh no, it's me baby. It's all me."

She struggled, pressing her hands firmly against his chest and shoving as hard as she could, trying to get away from him.

He held her tight, "Guess we're going to have to do this the hard way." He whispered. Grabbing a fist full of hair, he pulled her head back, then slammed it against the bar.

And everything went black.

*

Sam hummed along with the song playing on the jukebox and gently stroked the knife he held as he waited for Chloe to come around, "Before you slip into unconsciousness..."

She woke slowly, her head pounding painfully. Her eyes slowly opened and focused on Sam sitting a few feet away. No. Not Sam. Something with Sam's face and body. Sam would never have hurt her.

"Ah, so you've come back." He said softly, still looking down at his knife and stroking it lovingly.

She swallowed hard. "So who are you?" she asked, wincing as she lifted her head a little.

"I'm Sam."

"No, you're not."

He stood up and came close to her again, "Don't be so sure."

"Oh, I've never been so sure about anything in my life. Sam Winchester is a good man. And you're not him."

"What if I'm just showing who I really am?" He asked, pacing around her lazily.

She smirked despite the pain in her head. "Some kind of demon, no doubt. Shapeshifter? Possession? What I haven't figured out is your endgame."

He chuckled, "There is no endgame, sweetheart."

"No? So what do you want with me? I'm pretty much no one." She gazed at him.

"See...the way I look at it, you're bait."

"Bait for who?" she asked in confusion. And then her face paled. "Dean," she whispered.

He grinned, "Bingo."

"You already said Dean didn't have feelings for me. What makes you think this is going to work?" she asked in a casual, almost bored tone, despite her fear.

"Because...I know these things." He said getting close to her face, "See, when he gets here-"

At that moment the door slammed open and Dean came in, gun raised.

Sam backed off, "I told you this would happen Dean! I can't fight this!"

"Put the knife down Sammy!"

Confused and frightened, she looked over at Dean. "This isn't Sam!"

Getting out a flask, he opened it and threw it on Sam and watched him fall to the ground, "Yeah, I know! That's holy water you demonic son of a bitch!"

Chloe winced as she watched Sam writhe in pain on the floor, struggling against the ropes binding her hands.

Panting, Sam stood and glared at Dean before diving out the window.

"Damn it!" Dean put his head down, then quickly walked over to Chloe and cut the bindings, "You alright?"

"I'm fine," she said quickly, looking toward the window Sam had leapt out of, worry in her eyes.

He sighed, "Good. Now stay here." With that, he dived out the window after Sam.

"Yeah right," she mumbled, grabbing her purse and heading out to her car, hoping she could find them.

* * *

Keeping his gun low, Dean walked around the old abandoned warehouse that he'd tracked Sam to. Looking around, he bent low, hoping to spot him before he was spotted first.

"You're wasting your time, Dean," Sam's voice called in an almost sing-songy tone.

"Oh? And Why's that?"

"Because you're never gonna kill your brother," he said, smirking as he kept low.

"But I'll kill you." He said, crouching down behind a concrete pillar.

"Pretty big assumption there, big brother."

"Oh don't worry, I'll get you out of him."

"Maybe. But how many of your friends do you think I'll kill before you manage that?" He smirked again and raised his head just in time to see Dean duck behind a crate.

"Um, none."

"I wouldn't bet on that, Dean-o," he said darkly.

"You know...you're a cocky son of a bitch."

Sam grinned, his eyes dark black. "And you're a dumb son of a bitch," he responded. "As soon as I finish you off...I'm going back to kill your little blonde girlfriend."

"Then it's a good thing you're not gonna finish me off."

"Don't be too sure." He aimed his gun at Dean as the other man stood up.

"Son of a..." He ducked as Sam fired.

Sam smirked as Dean took off down the pier and he followed at a slower, almost casual pace, cornering him on the docks. "Goodnight, Dean." He fired another shot, pleased as he hit his target this time.

Dean felt the bullet slam into him and then the fiery pain, then...a falling sensation and water. After that, his world went dark.

* * *

Chloe dialed Dean's cell phone again, hearing the familiar notes beginning to play in the distance. She picked up her pace, shining her flashlight in the darkness on the docks and seeing a body on the ground. "Oh, God no," she whispered, running.

He felt like he was floating...yet he couldn't breathe. Not even caring, he drifted off again, not noticing when he hit the hard dock.

"Dean!" The frightened cry escaped her without a second thought to the idea that Sam might still be around somewhere. She rolled him onto his back gently, her face paling at the sight of the blood staining his clothes.

Groaning, Dean coughed, water coming to his lips, "Where's...Sam?"

"I don't know." She gently lifted his head into her lap, wincing as he coughed up blood and water mixed together.

"We've...gotta find...him."

"We will. But we gotta get you bandaged up first." She carefully slid her arms around him, helping him to his feet and draping his good arm around her shoulder for support.

"God..." He stumbled forward with the help of Chloe, trying to keep unconsciousness at bay.

"Easy," she whispered, guiding him back toward the bar and helping him sit down onto a chair.

He rolled his head back, "He shot me...again..."

Again? she thought, her eyebrows furrowing. She shook her head as she quickly moved to get her first aid kid from her bag. She'd have to ask him about that comment at a later date. This wasn't the type for exchanging stories. She returned to his side, her stomach turning a little at the sight of all the blood. "Can you take your coat off?"

Shaking his head, Dean leaned forward, trying to get the pain to lesson in his shoulder.

"All right." She pulled a pair of scissors from the kit and shifted closer to him, intending to cut the material off him.

"Ohh no...don't...cut...the jacket..."

"I'll buy you a new one. I have to get to the wound."

"Like this...jacket." He mumbled.

"Yes, just like it," she promised before cutting into the material before he could voice further protests. She winced as she saw the gaping wound in his shoulder, hoping she could do this without throwing up or passing out. She was all he had right now.

He sighed as she stripped the jacket and part of his shirt away, "M'sorry."

"For what?" she asked in confusion, glancing at his face momentarily before rising to grab a bottle of vodka for him to drink, knowing he was going to need it very shortly. She set it in front of him.

He grabbed it gratefully and took a swallow, "For bringing you into this."

"You didn't," she said gently, pouring rubbing alcohol onto a cloth. "This is gonna hurt. I'm sorry."

"Yeah, yeah, I know." He put his good hand on the bar and tightened his grip on it, "Just do it."

She pressed it over the wound, swallowing hard at the low growl that was torn from his throat. "Sorry," she whispered again, clearing away the blood with the cloth. Then she poured alcohol generously over a pair of long tweezers. "God. Are you sure you want me to do this?"

"You either do it now...or it gets done later." He bit out, taking another big swallow of vodka.

She forced herself to take a deep breath. "Brace yourself," she warned, hesitating a moment before moving the tweezers to the bullet wound and grimacing.

He jumped and ground his teeth in pain, "Son of a bitch!"

A few moments later she dropped the bullet into a glass of water, her face paler than before, though she forced herself to ignore the nausea as she began to bandage his shoulder quickly.

"You're a butcher." he breathed out, taking yet another generous swallow, trying to dull the fiery pain that was coursing through him.

"Hey, I'm a reporter, not a surgeon. And you're welcome."

He moved to get up, "I've gotta find Sam."

"I know." She rose to her feet and began to put away the contents of the kit.

"And you're not coming with me."

Chloe paused and looked at him. "Be careful."

Nodding, he all but stumbled out the door, holding his arm close to him. He knew where Sam had most likely gone, and he'd be damned if he wasn't going to stop him from killing someone else.

* * *

Sam smirked and knocked on the door to Bobby's cabin, replacing the smirk with a small smile when the older man opened the door. "Hey, Bobby."

Bobby smiled at the boy standing in the doorway, "Sam Winchester. Damn good to see you."

"Good to see you too." He stepped inside as the man held the door open for him. He glanced around the cabin and then back at Bobby. "How ya been?"

"Good...good." He paused when no one followed Sam in, "Where's that brother of yours?"

"Holed up in some crap motel with a blonde and a twelve pack."

Bobby chuckled and began walking toward the kitchen for a beer, "Sounds just like him. She cute?"

"He's in way over his head if you ask me." He looked around again.

Nodding, he came back in the room and handed a beer over, "To John."

Sam gazed at him a moment before clinking his bottle of beer against Bobby's. "To Dad." He took a long drink of the beer and immediately began to choke and cough, doubling over in agony. "What...the hell...did you do?"

"A little holy water in the beer." He said, looking down at his prone form, "Sam wouldn't have noticed...but then again, you're not Sam."

Sam continued to cough, holding his stomach in pain.

Balling his fist, Bobby punched him out, then stood, "Alright Dean, lets get him tied up."

Coming out from around the corner, Dean leaned slightly against the wall and nodded, this thing was ending now.

* * *

Tied to a chair, blood dripping down his lip, Sam glared at Dean and Bobby. "This won't keep me for long."

Dean smirked, "We'll see about that. Bobby, get going."

Looking down at the open book he held in his hands, Bobby began to chant the exorcism.

Sam's head jerked from one side to another, groaning in pain.

"You know, you think you demonic bitch boys can pull off this master plan. But I've got news for you, I'll slaughter every one of you first." Dean growled, coming in close.

Sam began to laugh maniacally, setting his gaze hard on Dean once more. "You think that's what this is about? I don't give a shit about the master plan," he hissed.

Dean blinked at that, then looked at Bobby and motioned for him to keep going.

Sam cocked his head to one side as Bobby resumed reading in Latin. He smirked and looked at Dean again. "Doesn't seem to be working does it?"

"What the hell did you do?" Dean growled.

He laughed. "I learned a few new tricks this time around, Dean-o." He laughed again and then lowered his head, beginning to speak in Latin, as well. The walls of Bobby's cabin began to rock violently.

"Damn it." He looked at Bobby, "What's going on?!"

"I don't know Dean!"

Sam lifted his head up as the ceiling cracked, breaking the devil's trap that was drawn there. His eyes grew black. "That's better." Breaking free from the ropes that had bound him to the chair, he looked at Bobby, sending the older man flying into a wall. Then he turned to glare at Dean.

"What the hell did you do to my brother?" Dean growled, going for something inside his partially shredded jacket.

Smirking, his eyes grew dark once more and he watched in satisfaction as Dean flew across the room and banged into the wall, hard. He approached with menacing steps, kicking the flask of holy water away and kneeling down to look at the man with a dark smile on his face. "Coming back from the dead's becoming a habit for you isn't it?" he asked before punching him hard in the jaw.

Dean didn't have time to react as he slid down the wall, dazed.

"You know when people say that something is so bad it's like hell? It's because hell is...well. Hell." He punched Dean again. "Your dad says hi, by the way."

He groaned in pain and tried to get away from the demon's hold. Reaching his arm out, he tried to grab the flask. Just a few more inches...

He punched Dean harder, hitting his nose this time. "The only thing I held onto was that one day I was going to crawl out of there and enjoy torturing you to death," the demon in Sam's body hissed.

"Meg." Dean breathed out, feeling his nose begin to weaken from the punches.

He grinned broadly. "No. I'm Sam now. And I'm going after every hunter I can find all because of you," he whispered, pressing his fingers into the wound in Dean's shoulder and enjoying the pain in his eyes. "Because you're worthless, Dean. You couldn't save your dad and deep down you know you can't save your brother either."

Dean cried in pain as his fingers dug deeper into his wound. He could feel the blood begin to run down his shirt again, "You'll never...get away...with this."

"I already have, Dean-o," he started to say when a fiery pain shot through his arm, causing him to scream. Falling backwards onto the floor as Bobby spoke rapid Latin, Sam's body twisted as he vomited up a streaming cloud of black smoke.

Breathing hard, and leaning against the bookcase that was next to him, Dean watched his brother fall back against the wall, "Sammy?"

He blinked, slowly sitting up and looking dazed. "Did I miss anything?"

Rolling his eyes, he balled up his fist and hit Sam, that was a stupid ass question.

"You look like crap, Dean," Sam said tiredly a couple of hours later as he sat at Bobby's desk, gazing at his brother.

"Back at you Sam."

He smiled a bit and looked down at the floor, guilt washing over him. He swallowed hard and started to say something when Bobby walked over.

Looking between the brothers, Bobby shook his head and held out his hand, "Here, these are for you two."

"What's this?" Sam questioned, taking the small object from Bobby.

"Charms. It'll keep you from getting a demon up inside you."

Dean rolled his eyes and took one of the charms, "That sounds vaguely dirty."

Sam smiled faintly. "Thanks," he said quietly, looking at Bobby uneasily.

"You two boys take care of yourself, you hear?"

Nodding, Dean turned toward the door, "Thanks Bobby."

"See ya." Sam led the way out to the car, forcing himself to take a deep breath of the night air.

Also taking a breath, Dean tried to keep up his usual stride, but faltered as the world began to turn sideways.

"Dean?" he asked in alarm, moving to his brother's side quickly.

"Since when...did the world think it was funny to roll over?" He asked, knees buckling.

He quickly wrapped his arms around his brother to keep him from falling to the ground. Grunting, he picked him up, carrying him to the Impala. "Hold on man. You're gonna be all right."

"Dude...what the hell? Put me down!" He struggled weakly against his brother's hold.

"Shut up, Dean."

"You shut up."

Sam rolled his eyes and yanked the back door of the Impala open. He slid his brother into the back of the car.

Dean winced as the movement jostled his aching body, "God...ow."

"I'm sorry," he whispered, closing the door and quickly climbing into the driver's seat.

"S'fine Sammy...fine..." he whispered, "Just gonna...sleep..."

Gazing at him worriedly in the rearview mirror, Sam started the Impala and headed for the nearest hospital.

Shortly after arriving at the hospital with his brother, Sam was pacing in the waiting room, waiting desperately for news.

Dean's cell phone rang from where it lay tucked in what was left of his jacket on the seat.

Jumping slightly at the sound, he quickly picked up the cell phone and slid it open, not bothering to check who was calling, "Hello?"

There was a pause on the other end of the line and from inside her red Beetle Chloe Sullivan swallowed hard at the sound of the voice. "Sam?"

"Chloe." He breathed, slight relief going through him, "You alright?"

She paused again, hesitant. "Where are you? Why are you answering Dean's phone?"

"I'm...at the hospital. They took Dean away."

She clutched the steering wheel a little tighter. "What hospital? Where are you?"

"St. Mark's in South Dakota." He said, sitting down and running a hand through his hair.

She swallowed hard, part of her wary that this could be a trap. For all she knew he was still possessed. "I'm on my way."

"Okay." He hung up the phone and let it hang loosely in his hand, regret flowing through him.