|Mates Series 3: Something To Believe In
Author: shadowglove PM
Sequel to Up Against The Wall. John Winchester has his reservations about Chloe, mostly because she just doesn't take his bullshit like Dean does. But also because seeing her and Dean reminds him of Mary and himself.Rated: Fiction T - English - Romance/Supernatural - Chloe S. & Dean W. - Words: 5,190 - Reviews: 10 - Favs: 36 - Follows: 2 - Published: 03-31-11 - Status: Complete - id: 6861146
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
Disclaimer: Don't own Smallville/Supernatural.
Sequel to: Up Against The Wall.
Written for my Paranormal25 150 Prompt Table. Prompt used # 26: Poltergeist.
"Sit your ass down John or so help me God I'll shoot your other goddamned leg!" Chloe snarled, having had about here with John Winchester and his 'I'm tough shit-a bullet to the leg ain't stopping me' attitude.
John Winchester mumbled darkly about brats these days not having respect for their elders, and something about her being lucky she was a woman, but he sat down nonetheless on the edge of the bed in the motel room they were holed up in. His gaze went to where Dean was snickering by the table of the seedy motel room, cleaning the guns. John pouted as he turned his attention towards his son's mouthy girl once more. "I have been taking care of myself long before you arrived, you know."
"Oh just shut up already John and accept some help." Chloe rolled her eyes, rolling up his pants leg to show where the bullet was lodged into his calf. "You need to learn to accept help graciously. You're not the supernatural-hunter version of Rambo, you know. Although you do like that whole 'nearly gets killed before miraculously getting the upper-hand and winning' thing Stallone and those other action guys like to do in their movies."
"I had everything under control." John argued, lips a near pout.
"Of course you did." Chloe snorted, not taking his bullshit, and she knew that he didn't know how to deal with that about her. From what she'd seen from Dean, the Winchester boys had been trained from young to follow orders and not ask questions. They hadn't talked back until Sam had finally gotten enough and left to go to Stanford shortly before she and Dean became a hunting team. Dean still very much was his father's little soldier boy, although Chloe had to admit that he was losing a little bit more of his brainwashed state.
Probably because of her and her big mouth.
"I did." John growled.
"You were shot in the leg and tied to the stake, John." Chloe looked up at him and glared. "You weren't able to get out, and there was already fire burning up the logs around you. You almost died of smoke inhalation."
He opened his mouth to protest.
"Shut up John!" She snapped, pouring alcohol on the wound viciously, ignoring his hiss of pain before she turned and lit the candle. "You nearly died, and you can't even thank us because you feel it'll somehow make yourself seem less as the almighty image you have created in your son's eyes." She heated the blade over the flame. "You're human, John, and when you realize you can't do something on your own you ask for some help! Because that doesn't make you weak, it means you have some sense in that stupid head of yours!"
"Now you wait here one second!" John snapped at her. "I will not allow you-!"
"And I will not allow you to go and leave Dean an orphan!" Chloe snapped right back at him viciously, shutting him up. "Unless you've forgotten, John, you're all he has left! Sam has his own life, and you've managed to drive him out of not only your life but Dean's as well with your attitude! Dean will never get tired of your utter bullshit like Sam did, he's the good son to Sam's prodigal, the one who stays by his father's side despite his father's obvious bias and how he takes him and all he does to please him for granted!"
John's face was closed off, but he was listening.
"Chloe..." Dean cleared his throat, clearly uncomfortable right now.
She ignored Dean, glaring up at John. "You are all he has left. He loves you as much as he can considering the fact that you haven't done much to teach him what that word means. You're his father, you're like god in his eyes. All he wants to do is please you, to get that pat on the back and know that you're proud of him."
"Chloe." Dean snapped.
"No goddammit!" Chloe snapped right back at him. "He needs to get his head out of his ass and realize that he's already lost one son and that he's going to end up losing you too! And what is that going to do to you?" Angry tears filled her eyes as she turned her attention back to John. "I won't let you do that to him."
John eyed her silently.
Dean looked away from them, face tense.
Chloe wiped at her angry tears, sniffling, before bringing the blade to John's calf, ignoring his hiss of pain as she finally got the bullet out of his calf, the hot blade cauterizing the wound.
The three were silent, tensely, until finally Chloe finished her work and got up. "I'm going to the room." And with that she left, slamming the door behind her, leaving the two Winchesters behind.
This was why Dean Winchester hated chick flick moments. They always left everyone uncomfortable and tense. But he knew his (unofficial) girlfriend and hunting partner hadn't grown up Winchester, hadn't been taught to avoid these emotional conflicts as much as possible. If anything, if there was an emotion conflict to be had she tended to run to it with open arms. And then use it to tear everyone around her a new one...much like she had his dad not two minutes ago. Dean knew John Winchester was not used to being talked to like that, he was used to being the General and hated being questioned. It was either his way or the highway.
Wasn't that what had ended up driving Sammy away from both of them?
Dean sighed, continuing cleaning the guns.
The few times he and his father had met for hunts after Chloe joined them had been tense because Chloe just didn't take John's bullshit. And John hadn't been happy with the realization that Dean had not only gotten a teenager involved in the hunting world (no matter how reluctantly) but that he was sleeping with her as well. John hadn't thought that Chloe had what it took to be a hunter...and then the tiny blonde had opened her mouth to showed him just how fricken knowledgeable she was...had turned on her computer and showed John just how good she was at research...and then had ended up saving John's life more than once.
Like today's hunt.
Dean knew that those were all kicks to John's ego, and his father was having a hard time dealing with the way his preconceptions were coming back to bite him in the ass.
Chloe had also brought a newer degree of strain to his and his father's relationship because Dean was always waiting for his father to demand he drop her back home and come back to hunting with him solely. And Dean didn't want to hear those words. He didn't want to fight with his father. He always tried to be the best son, to be the best hunter, to make his father proud. He always followed his father's commands without a moment's thought.
But he wouldn't do it if it came to that.
Not because he didn't think that Chloe was better off in her life in Smallville-but because he selfishly knew that he wouldn't be better off without her.
The last couple of months in which they'd been hunting together had been the best months of Dean's life.
Sure, he'd been hunting and getting into trouble with the law and monsters, but there'd been laughter and teasing and adrenaline-fueled, frenzied fucks or slow, sweet, seductive love-making. There'd been kisses and camaraderie, and someone there who tended to his every scratch. If he got sick, the person with him didn't force him to continue on and tell him gruffly to suck it up, to be a man. No. Chloe forced him to stay in bed, despite his protests and how miserable being bedridden made him, and tended to him until he was better than he'd been before falling sick. She bought vitamins for him and forced him to take them, every day, despite his bitching.
Now that he thought about it, Dean usually complained to her about all the things he secretly loved about her.
He cleared his throat, looking down at the guns.
Dean Winchester actually knew the word.
Even he was surprised at that.
It unnerved him, if he was to be truthful. There'd never been woman he'd even respected much less felt some sort of fondness for, and yet here he was, in love, with his hunting partner. He thought she loved him too, he just couldn't imagine her being the way she was unless it was with someone she loved. They'd never told each other the words, and most of the time Dean was grateful for that. He wasn't a man to express his emotions in words, it made him somewhat ill to even try and vocalize what he was feeling. And Chloe seemed to understand that. Not many women would. He knew that from hearing stories from other hunters.
Dean cleared his throat once more.
He tried to follow his father's commands without question, but he knew that he wouldn't if John Winchester wanted Chloe gone.
Dean just couldn't.
"She reminds me of Sammy."
Dean's eyes widened and he turned towards his father at that. "Chloe?"
John nodded, sighing as he leaned against the backrest of the bed. "Research skills, intelligence, mouth."
Dean's lips twitched in amusement.
John looked up at the ceiling, before looking at his eldest. "This isn't the kind of life that she should be living, Dean. She's nothing but a kid. I'm not-I'm not saying that she isn't good at it, because damned if she doesn't like to keep rubbing in just how much of a natural she seems to be...but she's a young girl who should be worrying about dates and proms."
Dean frowned, mind going to a dating Chloe.
His stomach grew sick at the thought of some pimply-faced brat trying to get to second base with her while parked in a car somewhere.
"That's not the life she wants." Dean replied gruffly, returning his attention to the gun he was finished cleaning, reassembling the pieces once more, actions jerky with his annoyance. "She was already hunting for five months before we met up, and nothing I said was going to convince her to go back home. This is what she wants. Her father has accepted it, so there really isn't anything you can do about it...sir."
There was silence, and then a sigh.
"Thank you." John sounded as if he'd eaten a lemon.
"Excuse me?" Dean asked, blinking in surprise as he looked up at his father once more.
"I said thank you." John grumbled. "For saving me. And for taking care of my wound." He folded his arms over his chest in obvious petulance. "Let the little amazonian know I said that."
Dean eyed his father in shock. "I-I'll let her know."
"Now go on and calm her down before she burns down the whole county with how heated up she is right now." John mumbled, shooing Dean towards the door with his hands, before smirking. "Reminds me of Mary too."
With that surprising bit of information, Dean left the room, going to search for his girlfriend.
There was more than one Poltergeist in the house, and that was a surprise that they should have been prepared for. But they hadn't been. And that was why they found themselves pinned to different walls of the room, a poltergeist at each of them.
"Don't you fuckin' touch her!" Dean snarled, ignoring the poltergeist on him, instead concentrating on the one hovering in front of Chloe.
John tugged on his invisible restraints viciously, realizing that if one of them didn't get free and set fire to the remains of the poltergeists in the communal burial they'd found in the wall, then they were going to die.
"Come on, do it." Chloe sneered at the poltergeist holding her. "Didn't you like gutting young women during your life you misogynist sonofabitch? Do it!"
And suddenly she was screaming as the poltergeist shoved his hand into her stomach and tore her open.
Dean went still in horror, before suddenly snapping, screaming her name as he tried fighting viciously. "I'm gonna kill you! I'm gonna fucking kill you!"
John froze, images of Mary's death flashing before his eyes, leaving him useless, helpless.
Gurgling up blood, Chloe's body fell to the ground.
The poltergeists turned their back on her, and the one who'd been holding her moved onto Dean, taunting.
"Women are the devil's tool to tempt us, to make us fall into sin." The poltergeist preached self-righteously. "By ridding the world of temptation, we will rid the world of sin, and thus live in a paradise!"
"I'm going to kill you again." Dean snarled so darkly it gave John goosebumps. He'd never heard such an empty, demonic sound. Not even from demons themselves. "And you'll suffer more than hell could ever do to you."
"Tsk tsk tsk, ungrateful little bastard." The poltergeist turned to his two companions. "Isn't he ungrateful brethren?"
They nodded wordlessly.
"I'll show you have grateful I am." Dean growled. "Just let go of me and I'll show you."
"No, please, let me." They turned at that voice to see that Chloe had crawled towards the bodies, a trail of blood smearing the ground beneath her, and had a lit match in her hand. "Thanks a lot."
And with that she threw the match on the bodies drenched in accelerant, causing them to go up in flames.
The poltergeists rushed towards her, but went up in flames before reaching.
The wall with the bodies caught on fire as well, spreading to the other walls, as John and Dean fell to the floor now that the poltergeists were gone.
John still found himself frozen in horror as Chloe collapsed to the ground, her stomach and clothes red with her own blood, fire all around her.
Flashbacks of Mary pinned to the roof superimposed themselves on Chloe, and John felt as if he were living his nightmares all over again.
"Chloe." Dean hurried to her, falling to his knees. "What have I told you about-?"
"Please...no fighting right now?" Chloe winced.
Nodding, Dean carefully and tenderly picked her up, leaving all his things behind as he rushed out of the room.
Only then did John awaken from his nightmare, and grabbed all of their things, rushing out of the burning inferno to the Impala, where Dean was waiting impatiently for him, Chloe groaning in pain in the backseat. John had wanted to take Chloe to the hospital, but Dean had surprisingly enough fought him, and unless he wanted to get kicked out of the car while it was still moving (surprisingly enough Dean's exact words) John had to shut up, sending the crying blonde in the backseat frightened and concerned looks until they reached the motel.
The heat was up high in the car, uncomfortably so.
Dean had driven like a madman, parked insanely, and then had nearly yanked off the back door while opening it to get to her. But still his actions were tender as he pulled the injured girl into his arms and hurried to their room, depositing her on the motel bed. John had had to take the keys out of the Impala's ignition, grab the things, and then close the door to Dean and Chloe's room as he entered, watching Dean race around the room. His son had turned on the heat incredibly high, had water running in the bathroom, and locked all the windows tightly.
It was starting to get stifling in there.
"Son..." John sighed, seeing his son seeming to go insane before his very eyes. "She needs to go to a doctor."
"No. She needs heat." Dean shook his head, looking around frantically. "Heat and water."
"Dean..." John tried once more, but Dean pulled out his knife and sliced off Chloe's clothes, exposing just how deep the wound was. John had to look away, that was why he missed it when Dean picked up the now silent girl and took her to the bathroom. "Dean!"
He followed his son into the bathroom, which was hot, steam rising from the water in the tub Dean lowered Chloe's nearly lifeless body into.
"Everything's going to be alright." Dean whispered to himself, stopping the water-flow since the liquid (now crimson with her own blood) reached to her chin. "Baby, you're going to be alright." He ran a trembling hand over her face, her closed eyes. "We made it on time."
"Dean." John whispered, heart breaking. Could his son not see the girl was about dead?
Silence descended upon the bathroom, as John watched his son hold on bravely, refusing to break.
Dean was on his knees, bending over Chloe's lifeless body, trembling hand continuing to brush her hair, fingers caressing her pale cheeks.
John closed his eyes, unable to watch his son go through this.
"C'mon gorgeous." Dean whispered urgently. "C'mon. Open those pretty eyes. Insult my dad some more. Tell me off for worrying. C'mon!"
John cleared his throat and looked away, refusing to break down when his son needed him to be strong for him.
An odd bubbling sound filled the room.
John's eyes narrowed and he turned towards the tub once more, eyes widening as he realized the water was glowing slightly, and seeming to bubble as if boiling.
"What the hell?" He reached for his gun...
...but suddenly, before he could even touch his gun, Dean had pulled out his own and aimed it at him without even looking in his direction.
John's eyes widened.
What the hell was Dean doing?
But Dean wasn't even looking at him, his hand cupping Chloe's face, and when she gasped, eyes flying open as she sat up in the tub he was smiling down at her.
John watched, confused. "What the-?"
"I knew I'd gotten to you on time." Dean whispered, eyes searching her face before he leaned forwards and pressed their foreheads together in relief. "Don't do that to me again."
"They weren't going to let go of us if they weren't sure we were dying." Chloe whispered, hand reaching out from the bloody water to cup the back of his head, her thumb caressing him soothingly. "I knew you'd get me in time."
"What if I hadn't?" Dean hissed. "What if there'd been traffic or-what if your meteor ability had stopped working completely?"
John's eyes narrowed.
As in mutation?
Chloe was a mutant?
Just exactly when was his son planning on telling him this?
But he held off the questions, and just watched them whisper softly to each other, both so obviously relieved to be the other's hands.
Funny, despite the fact that she'd nearly died in an agonizing way...it seemed to John that Chloe was the one comforting Dean.
Curled up in the bed now that the sheets had been changed and her blood completely gone, Chloe felt tired, just like she always did after healing. She'd been sleeping for a couple of hours, she could tell that from the clock on the bedside table, but her body was still asking for more, needing to rest. Her mutation was odd, in which it healed her, but only when she was at the point of death, and only if there was a lot of heat around her. The healing itself was hot, so having heat all around just seemed to increase its power. Still, Chloe knew that taking these risks she could very well not make it one of these days. And she didn't think Dean would ever forgive her if that happened.
He wasn't one to talk about emotions of any kind, but that wasn't necessary. His every facial expression, his every action, they all said a lot more than words ever could.
She-she hadn't told him about Encantado's words...about their supposedly being mates. She didn't know if she'd be able to handle him if she did. He was already overprotective and possessive as he was. If he ever found out that he actually had every right to be that way...well...there'd be no living with him.
The door opened, and Dean slipped in, locking the locks and bringing the chair up to wedge against the handle. "I thought you'd still be asleep. You need your rest."
She yawned softly. "How did the conversation with your dad go?"
He pulled his shirt off of his body and let it fall to the ground as he made his way towards the bed. "We had a man to man, and everything is fine." Pulling his gun out from the back of his jeans' waist, Dean rested it on the bedside table on his side of the bed and did quick work of his pants and shoes, slipping into bed next to her. "He isn't...happy...that he wasn't told, but he appreciates the fact that you're not dead."
Chloe chuckled at that, shaking her head as he pulled her carefully towards his near naked body. "Sounds like John."
Dean tensed for a second, before clearing his throat. "While you were asleep your cousin called."
"Which one?" She murmured, eyes closing as she rested in the crook of his arm, feeling sleep beginning to reclaim her once more.
"Not the snobby one, the other one, the annoying one." Dean replied.
She breathed in his scent, a smirk tilting her lips. "She has a name. Its Lois."
"Yeah, well, Lois called because she says she won two tickets to an all-expenses paid long weekend in Vegas and wants you to go with her." Dean spoke slowly.
"I'll call her later and tell her I'm game." Chloe whispered, voice slurred with her need to sleep. "You and your dad need some time together, and a long weekend with Lois is what I need too."
There was silence. "You rethinking hunting?"
"Shut up." She curled closer into him, pressing a kiss to his skin. "You wouldn't be able to go on without me."
She then yawned and fell asleep to the sound of his beating heart.
John Winchester watched his son as he leaned against Chloe's car, obviously not pleased with the fact that she was leaving to go spend some time with Lois, and yet refusing to vocalize these feelings. Chloe seemed to feel his unease because every couple of minutes she'd stop what she was doing and give him a little kiss, or rub his arm, or just smile at him reassuringly. Dean faltered under every single display of affection from her, which shocked John deeply because he'd never thought his boy would be much into public displays of affection. And yet as Chloe loaded the last of her things into her car, Dean was the one who yanked her towards him and kissed her somewhat filthily in the middle of the parking lot in broad daylight.
John covered his face for a moment in embarrassment for his son. The boy was being so obvious.
A smile then touched his lips as he pulled his hand from his face and watched them from the diner across the street.
He finally admitted to himself what had truly made him so uncomfortable about Dean's relationship with Chloe.
It reminded him too much of his own relationship with Mary.
Of course there were differences in the relationship he'd had with his wife to the one Dean had with his mutant girlfriend (although neither had ever officially put a name to their relationship), but whenever Dean gazed down at Chloe John saw flashes of the way he'd look at Mary...and whenever Chloe smiled adoringly up at Dean John couldn't help but see Mary smiling at him.
He wanted his sons to find in someone what he'd found (even if so briefly) in their mother...but it terrified him as well...because if Dean lost Chloe like John had Mary, John could see his son becoming him. And if there was something he didn't want for his sons, it was for them to become the harsh, empty, lonely and sad man he was. At least this mutation of hers gave Chloe a fighting chance. And for that John had to be grateful.
Still, when she was back he was going to have a long talk with her about these meteor mutations and the rocks that caused them.
Sensing movement, John looked up and saw Chloe waving to him.
He gave a little wave back.
Chloe smiled brightly and then turned to Dean, fussing with his shirt. His arms were around her, and she stood on her tiptoes while looking up at him, obviously telling him what he was allowed and what he wasn't allowed to do while she wasn't around. The girl was cheeky and bossy like that, and from what John could tell, his son enjoyed it...even if the boy would never come out and admit it.
Pressing a kiss to his lips, Chloe slipped out of Dean's arms and turned towards the car.
Dean leaned forwards and placed his hands on her shoulders, stopping her from opening the door. He leaned in against her back, bending down to whisper into her ear.
Her lips quirked in a smile and the blonde turned in his hold, grabbing his shirt and yanking him down to give him a deep, claiming kiss that obviously left him shocked yet utterly pleased.
While Dean was still recovering, the blonde girl slipped into her car and drove away.
John snorted in amusement, shaking his head.
Yep, she reminded him a lot of Mary.
Maybe...maybe this time fate would kind upon lovers.
John gazed down at his coffee.
At least it gave him something to believe in.