I Promise - NC17 - Chloe/Dean - Part 1/10
Title: I Promise
Rating: NC-17
Genre: Romance/Angst/Drama
Category: Smallville/Supernatural [Crossover]
Pairing: Chloe/Dean
Summary: A Winchester's word was as good as gold and if Dean promised to free her, he would.
I Promise
I.
Chloe Sullivan couldn't believe her luck. Seemed no matter what she did, she was always got the short end of the stick. Even with her resources, the people she knew, and all the good she'd done, she still got stuck inside a 5x9 cell for who-knows-how-long. Currently, she hadn't even gone up for her trial. They had her stuck in a dumpy little prison, waiting for whenever they could get around to her. She had a feeling that somewhere in the world, over expensive wine and caviar, Lex Luthor was laughing at her misfortune. She hoped he choked.
Oliver had tried, she knew that. But he couldn't pull too many strings without looking suspicious and he had the League to worry about, which she freely admitted was more important than her. Even though deep down inside, she wished somebody, somewhere thought she was more important than whatever it was they were doing. But given her background and those many connections she'd once held so much pride in, she knew that their secrets outweighed her and while some part of her understood that, the rest of her just wanted to get out of the scratchy orange jumpsuit she was currently sporting, 24/7.
She'd been stuck on the "inside" for three and a half months and it wasn't getting easier. The coffee was so from being "acceptable" it wasn't funny. She had no computer privileges; given the background of her so-called crimes they didn't even let her say "internet." She had no contact with anybody, not anymore, anyway. She was constantly being watched and so she made sure that all of the people that mattered stayed away. She cut off talking to Oliver and the entire League completely and told both Lois and Clark to just stay away. They'd been reluctant, but eventually, they stopped coming, and while outwardly she appreciated it, on the inside she felt alone and lost. The only one who kept up seeing her, despite her protests had been Jimmy. She blamed it on his recent proposal before the shit hit the fan, but he wasn't part of the grand scheme anymore. She wished she could say he was another name on the list of people she pushed away, that it was her decision to have him go, but it was his.
"It's just... I can't... I can't see it working, Chlo," he had mumbled into the phone, eyes darting away nervously. He never could look at her, all dressed up in an unflattering orange. "I wish... I wish things could be different but they're not and..." He sighed, running a hand over his face. "I really do wish..."
She had nodded, trying to look understanding. Who knew when she was getting out? Hell, if Luthor had his way, it'd be never. And so far, it wasn't looking good. Her resources were basically diminished and she was starting to think it was time to throw in the towel, to finally give in to the inevitable. If she had no other comfort, she knew that while Oliver and the boys couldn't free her, they'd spend the rest of their lives ruining Lex's. Her inner hero said it was enough, but the rest of her was praying for some kind of miracle. She was surprised when it arrived, in the form of one arrogant memory that she honestly feared she'd never meet again.
"Sullivan!" came the loud voice of the guard. "Ya gotta visitor!"
Chloe sat up, tucking her book beneath her pillow and furrowing her brows. She stood up, bypassing Bambi, her cell mate. For such a soft name, somebody might expect a softer looking woman. But Bambi was all rough edges and stringy hair, a scowl a mile wide and a glint in her eye that kept most people at bay. Thankfully, she'd picked up Chloe from the first day and hadn't let her get trampled since. But there was only so much a person could do and Chloe was pretty sure the woman four cells down was gonna gut her any day now. With her healing abilities, she wasn't exactly worried. But it still hurt and it'd be more than just hard to explain.
She walked out of her cell, the rubber bottoms of her dime-a-dozen sneakers squeaking against the cement floor. "Who is it?" she asked the guard to her left; a man with deep frown lines and dark circles beneath his eyes. His name was Al and Chloe had slowly wormed her way into the man's good graces. He had two kids, an ex wife for each, and a mortgage that was killing him. Behind all his gruff nature, he wasn't so bad. But he was one of few. Most of the other guards were downright cruel and they didn't care what she did or whether she did it. They weren't up for chit chat or excuses; they just wanted her to follow the rules and keep out of their way. She learned quick, but it was a lesson she wished she'd never been taught. She hated where she was, couldn't stand another day. And was starting to understand why it wasn't so rare for inmates to hang themselves in their cells.
She was alone and vulnerable and she couldn't keep pretending she was okay because she really wasn't. She was scared and every day, she felt like she was becoming more and more resolved to the fact that she was forgettable. That she was replaceable in the big bad world and that nobody was really out there, trying their damndest to get her out. Not like how she would to save them, to free them. All those friends and family members and sources that she'd built up over her lifetime; the people she would give her life for because they deserved it. Because they were good, honest, hard working people that would do something for the world. But not her... No. She'd made a mistake and now she was paying for it.
The cell doors, all made of steel bars that clanged with finality each time, opened in three separate areas before she was finally near the visitation area. Just a line of cubicles with a glass pane between her and whoever it was came to see her, a phone on each side so she could hear their voice. She felt anxiety well up in her stomach. The last time she'd been here, she'd been greeted by an apologetic Jimmy Olsen, who simply wanted to move on in his life and couldn't do that with a con for a girlfriend, possible fiancée. Despite how much it hurt to know he left her, she'd honestly been ready to tell him no. He was a good man, he was. But... He wasn't right for her. She liked him, loved him even, but she didn't trust him. Not like how she would need to if she ever got married. And Jimmy Olsen just wasn't that guy. Still, it hurt, a whole lot more than expected, when he finally said goodbye. He was the last one... The last visitor... The last person to look at her, smile at her, and tell her she was going to be okay... someday.
"Go on then, Sully," Al told her roughly, crossing his meaty arms over his chest and nodding his head over to the booth. "Your husband's waiting."
She managed to keep the shock from her face but inside she was bowled over. Husband?
She walked over hesitantly, not sure who to expect. Five men popped to mind, but half of them would've needed her to pull off messing with the records needed to make it look legit enough that she'd married. Clark was out - he didn't have the hacking skills. So was Jimmy, because while he'd infiltrated her system, she was fairly certain he didn't have it in him to pull this off, especially after the conversation they'd had a month ago. That left Oliver, with the help of Victor of course, but she knew that while he held a special spot for his Watchtower, he was too loyal to his team to give them up for just one. So that left just two and somehow as she walked closer, she knew which of them would be there.
He smirked up at her, leaning back in his chair like he owned the place. And while she rolled her eyes at his antics, she was jumping for joy and sobbing with gratitude inside her head. She took a seat, staring at him for just a moment. God, he looked good. How long had it been since she last saw him? She shook her head... Too long. Last she heard, he was in a big mess of a deal and right about the same time she was being hauled away, his debt was supposed to be paid. She'd been in too long to know for sure that he got out but here he was, right in front of her, very much alive. She nearly cried; whether it was happiness that he was still kicking or the knowledge that he'd cared enough to check up on her, she wasn't sure. But she sniffled, blinked a few times, and made sure to keep the "chick flick moment," as he'd call it, to herself.
She reached for the phone, surprised at how her hand shook and brought it up to her ear, pushing a chunk of her dry blonde hair away. She seriously needed some better shampoo and a nice, long, hot shower, all alone. Really, she understood that with so many people, it made sense for them to be out in the wide open for the guards to keep an eye on, but she would give anything for a little privacy.
He didn't say anything at first, held the phone up to his own ear and cocked a brow at her. She could hear him breathing, steady and quiet and somehow it comforted her more than all the words Clark had sputtered out in apology or the cheesy words Jimmy doled out to cheer her up when he used to come. "I like the orange," he finally said, leering at her top-half overdramatically. "You really pull it off."
She rolled her eyes, biting her lip for a moment. "Yeah, they offered me blue but I thought, hey, why break tradition? I really blend in this way... It's very in this season."
He snorted, smiling in a way that made the sides of his eyes crinkle adorably. She wished she could reach out, touch his face just for a second. Feel the warmth there, the shade of whiskers over his chin, touch those freckles that took all the hard hunter's edge from him. "So how's the digs? Your put up pictures on the cell walls or what?"
She shook her head. "Nope. Bambi, that's my celly, she doesn't really like visual aids." She frowned. "Brings back memories..."
His brow furrowed before he chuckled. "Bambi?"
"Yeah." She smiled. "She's a real character."
"With a name like that, how couldn't she be?"
Chloe ran a hand through her hair, leaning forward slightly. "What are you doing here?" she asked, voice quiet, hesitant.
"What? I can't come see my wife?" He lifted a brow.
She nearly smiled, but suppressed it. "We've been separated for awhile now, Dean." Her eyes widened slightly to emphasize her meaning. "I thought I made it clear, I didn't want to see anyone."
He leaned forward. "Oh you made it clear, sweetheart. Crystal. But, see, I'm feeling a little like your judgment ain't all that straight right now." He shrugged a shoulder. "Call me crazy, but you've been in here awhile and I think the solitude is startin' to get to ya." He stared at her, eyes hard and serious. "So I'm gonna make myself clear..." He licked his lips. "I'm not goin' anywhere." She swallowed tightly, not daring to look away but refusing to let her dim light of hope get any brighter. "We're in this together, all right?" He nodded abruptly, decisively. "We'll get you outta this. I promise."
This time she didn't bother blinking away the tears and let one dribble down her cheek. She smiled, trying to cover the pain and fear there, the broken mess that came out. She wiped at it roughly, turning her eyes upward and wishing she hadn't let him see that. He never handled those things well.
He leaned forward, clearing his throat uncomfortably. "Hey," he called.
She sniffled, biting down on her lip so she wouldn't let out a sob that clogged her throat. She stared at him through damp eyes, wishing she could just believe him. He'd never lied to her before.
"I promise you," he said, his tone so final, so serious. He reached out, his hands touching just the bottom of the glass, fingers spread out. And her hand fell, arm spreading along the cool, steel table in front of her. She pressed her fingers against his, but couldn't feel the heat through the glass, not like how she wanted to. She stared down, wishing she could take his hands, let it swamp hers, so large and calloused and warm.
And then her gaze fell to the orange sleeve of her jumpsuit and reality settled back in. She lifted her head, looked back at him and shook her head. "You shouldn't... You should just-"
"Cut it out," he interrupted, shaking his head. "Don't pull that emo crap like Sammy." He frowned. "I got here as soon as I could and we're gonna figure this all out, all right?" He didn't wait for her to answer. "In the meantime, you just pick your fights carefully and wait." He nodded toward the guard who stood not so far away and she almost laughed as a ten pack of cigarettes was dropped in front of her. He grinned, eyes filling with something akin to pride. "Gotta keep my girl on top, right? Can't let you sit at the bottom of the food chain." He winked.
"Times up, Sully," Al called out, shrugging to her with the closest thing to an apology she was going to get.
She sighed, turning back to stare at her ‘husband.' "I have to go," she murmured.
He nodded, clearing his throat. "I'll be back," he assured.
"You don't have t-" She stopped at the lock he was giving her and then nodded. "All right."
He licked his lips, looking away and then back, torn over what was obviously an emotional issue. "You're okay?" he finally asked.
She glanced down and then back up. "I'm not not-okay."
He smiled slightly, shaking his head as if reminiscing over how it was a very her thing to say. "Good." His jaw twitched. "You know... Cause Sammy was worried."
She smiled, nodding. "I'm sure he was."
He shrugged, non-commitally. "And I mighta been... A little."
She stared at him, seeing that flickering of emotion that he tried to hide behind the bad-ass hunter visage. "I know."
He coughed, wiping at something invisible on his mouth and nodded jerkily.
Al stepped up behind her and she knew she had to hang up, had to walk away.
She nodded up at the guard before looking over at Dean once more. And for the first time in the three and a half months she'd been in jail, she actually didn't want the person on the other end to go. She didn't want to watch them leave or hang up the phone or stop hearing their voice. Maybe because he was promising to do something; he was giving her his word that he was going to get her out. All the others had apologized, had told her that it wasn't right she was there, that something would happen to get her free, it had to. But they made no reassurances that it would come from them and she said she understood that, made herself believe she did. But now that he was there, saying he'd do whatever it took, she realized she'd been waiting for that. For somebody to say, "I got you. You're okay. Don't worry, you're gonna get out of this."
"Goodbye Dean," she said into the phone.
"I'll see ya soon," he replied, staring at her intently.
She nodded understandingly and hung up the phone.
He stood as she did, watching as Al took her arm, pulled her back from the booth and turned her toward the door leading back into the main prison. She looked over her shoulder, unable to resist the temptation to see him just a second longer. And he was still there, watching after her. He mouthed two words and she smiled sadly. I promise. A Winchester's word was as good as gold, she thought as she turned back. Maybe she really was going to get out. As unlawful as it may be.
[ Next.]