|Fate or Freak?
Author: boaterV PM
Sequel to "Reading Watchtower". Every time she closed her eyes she saw him. Why was nothing ever easy?Rated: Fiction M - English - Romance - Chloe S. & Dean W. - Chapters: 9 - Words: 13,858 - Reviews: 21 - Favs: 18 - Follows: 9 - Updated: 10-31-11 - Published: 10-10-11 - Status: Complete - id: 7453071
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
Takes place 3 weeks after "Reading Watchtower"
"You look tired."
"I've been really busy lately." Lois frowned at her cousin. She wasn't born yesterday.
"And I can still tie my shoes."
Chloe laughed out loud at that. Lois was 3 weeks away from giving birth and despite the doctor's insistence that it was only one child she looked like there might be three. "Dreams."
"The're getting weirder. It was bad enough when it was about zombies, vampires and too many other beasts to count but now there are angels and the Devil." She shook her head.
"What about the hottie?" Lois sipped her tea and made and face. She missed her coffee.
"Lois." Her tone held a reprimand.
"I'm not the one that made out with some strange mind reading stud in an alley."
"I needed to protect my secrets and he was breaking down the wall."
"It's okay to have needs." Lois reached out and covered her cousin's hand with her own. "You don't have to be alone."
"Can we talk about my nephew?" Chloe pulled her hand away and shook her head. Forcing a smile back on her lips. She didn't want to talk about this. About him. She knew too much about him. She knew everything. They weren't dreams. They were his life.
"He is making us wait. Emil says he's not showing any signs of wanting to be born. I need to pee all the time and I can't get comfortable in bed and if Clark doesn't stop hovering, I mean literally hovering, over me I am going to scream."
"He just wants to makes sure you guys are safe."
"I love the big dumb alien but sometimes I want to get a kryptonite ring to keep him away." Chloe smiled for real this time. She loved watching Lois and Clark's love bloom. Loved what a wonderful influence they had been on each other. Stronger together than apart. It was the kind of love Chloe had always wanted for herself.
The frown returned. An image of a blonde woman and a dark haired man leaning over a crib flashed in her mind. Love so obvious all over their faces. It was quickly followed by images of smoke and fire. It was a memory but it wasn't her own.
She thought she and Clark were close. She knew his every secret. His every fear.
It was nothing compared to what she knew about this man. She didn't just know his fears and his experiences. She knew every feeling. Every secret hope and desire. She knew him better than she knew herself. Better than he knew himself.
"Chlo promise me you'll get some sleep?" Chloe could hear the tone that she knew was going to make Lois a wonderful mother. She hated that she was making her cousin worry about her.
"I have a nice relaxing evening planned for tonight. Some wine, some Gino's and early to bed. I promise."
"Good because when this little man finally decides to arrive he is going to need a non sleepy aunt."
Chloe smiled warmly before hugging her cousin goodbye. It hadn't been her intention but as soon as she said it out loud she had to agree it might just be what the doctor ordered.
She heard the door open but her wine addled brain was slow to recognize a problem. Slow to react. She had polished off the entire bottle in the hopes of a dream free sleep. Part of her knew the headache she could expect in the morning was going to be a killer but it didn't stop her.
With wine she could lie to herself and say she was drinking it to relax. If she switched to whiskey she would have to admit her purpose and his memories would push to the surface. All the times he had drank to forget.
Turning towards her door she froze. He was standing there.
"How'd you get in here?" Her words were slow, slurred. Her feet unsteady beneath her.
"Know all the codes." He smiled at the confused look on her face.
"Isn't it Miss Sullivan?" He moved forward and she noticed Sam behind him. Always faithful. She felt a wave of familial love wash over her as his memories fought to the surface. "I know your favorite coffee, I know your favorite color, I know the name of the bear you clung to after your Mother left."
She sat back on the couch, shock and pain written on her face. "No."
"Oh yeah." He moved forward. Standing over her he growled. "You are going to fix whatever it is you did."
She looked up shocked. " I did?" She watched as he pulled out a gun and waved it around. Adrenalin washing away some of the haze of the wine. "Back up." She stood up on the couch. "You aren't going to use that gun. You might play the big bad but I'm not falling for your threats."
"So brave." He sneered at her. "So brave when all you want to do is go back to a simpler time. You forget I know everything." he shook his head. "I want you out of my head."
He moved forward grabbing her arms and shaking her. "Dean." His brothers tone held a note of warning.
"It's fine Sammy." Dean's eyes locked with hers as they said the words at the same time. Anger fading away to shock. His eyes grew wide in realization. Her only acknowledgement was a curt nod.
Sam stared as his brother and the blonde as they glared at each other. They had been going non stop since their last visit. Sam had dragged Dean out of the alley and loaded him into the Impala. He had awoken an hour later with a headache to end all headaches but his ability to read minds was thankfully gone.
Sam had been thrilled. He liked honestly and sharing but Dean in his head was just a bit too much. His private thoughts were his own. He didn't want to share them. Especially not with his emotionally stunted big brother.
Then the dreams had started. Although Sam supposed they started right away but Dean was able to hide them from his brother for a while. By the time Sam had noticed Dean was well on his way to becoming obsessed.
Not that he could blame him. What little he had gotten out of Dean was unbelievable. Flying men, megalomaniacal billionaires, mutants that routinely went insane. They had tried to find some sort of proof regarding her life. A news article or a web site. Anything that might make sense of what Dean was dreaming about. There was so much Sam didn't even know where to start.
Two days ago he had simply started driving to her. If her watchtower existed as it did in his dreams then he would know. Sam had been shocked when Dean had easily punched in all the necessary codes to bypass the security. Until that point the had really pinned his hopes on magic. Maybe a Djinn. He wasn't sure why any of that would have been preferable to the fact that Dean was dreaming about an actual real person's life.
"We need to talk." Chloe spoke first. Standing up and waiting as Dean released his grip on her arms. "come into the kitchen and I'll put on a pot of coffee." She turned away and started walking. "You too Sam. It isn't like you don't know everything already."
As they reached the kitchen door he grabbed her arm spinning her back towards him. "How much?"
She knew what he was talking about. "All of it Dean." His face softened as she placed her hand over his. "your deal, your sacrifice and yes, I know about hell."
Dean hated the haunted look she saw in her eyes. When he dreamed of her life it was like he was there. He felt everything, it was like he was there. If she was experiencing the same thing he could only imagine what hell had been like for her. He knew she wasn't some simpering flower but her life still was nothing compared to his.
He shook his head. This had to stop.
"I've been doing some research." Both turned at the sound of Sam's voice. "There was a case of gold meteor rock transferring personalities."
"Yes but that was something different." Dean supplied Chloe's answer. She turned. Reminded of just how much of her past he knew.
"okay well then what is the problem here?" Sam was annoyed. If Dean had these answers why hadn't he told him.
Chloe moved to walk away and Dean grabbed her again. "I want you out of my head." His voice was a growl. She looked down at his arm where he held her and pulled away.
"And me? You think I don't want the continuous loop of your life out of my head? Blood and sex and more blood. Every lonely truck stop waitress and evil son of a bitch that wants you?" She hated saying it. Hated the look of pain on his face. "Watching you take the weight of the world onto your shoulders as if you alone must fight." her voice got soft. Trying to take away some of his pain.
"So what's the plan?" His tone was gentler now. The sadness in her eyes haunting him.
"I have a friend." Dean frowned at her. Like there was a point in being vague. She sighed. Frustration building. "I'm going to call Emil. He can be here in the morning. You are welcome to stay but I need to go to bed now." She stumbled away from him. The wine making her feet feel heavy and her brain fuzzy again.
"We need to talk about this." Sam sounded so worried and Chloe couldn't blame him.
"I'm three glasses of wine past sober and I'm guessing the two of you haven't seen a bed in a few days. Dean knows where the guest rooms are. Go to sleep and tomorrow we can try and figure this out."
"But," Dean grabbed his brother's arm and cut him off. He wasn't keen on being a pin cushion but he knew how much Chloe trusted Emil.
"Follow me." Dean watched her walk away before turning and making his way to the guest rooms. He could admit he was bone tired. Could admit that he had never really thought she had done this to him. Part of having her memories was knowing her. Chloe would never knowingly hurt someone. She thought of herself as a sidekick but he didn't understand why she didn't realize how much more she was. She reminded him of Sam. Always trying to see the best in people. Always thinking if she could save just one more it would even out the scales. Blaming herself for things that weren't her fault.
"Are we going to talk about this?"
"We can talk in the morning little brother."
"She didn't do this."
"Are you sure?"
"I know her Sam. I know everything about her. She would no sooner do this then you would." Dean sounded weary and Sam couldn't blame him. Worst still was that sleep would offer no refuge. He would dream again.