SPN/SV Fic: Highway From Hell: Fic 2: Welcome to Existence (4/4)
Series: Highway From Hell
Fic 2: Welcome to Existence
Authors: Xtremeroswellian and Did_It_Once
Rated: PG-13
Spoilers: “No Rest for the Wicked" for Supernatural. Nothing terribly spoilery from Smallville if you watched any of sixth or seventh season.
Disclaimer: Not ours. Don’t sue.
Characters: Chloe, Dean, Sam, the JLA.
Pairing: None yet. Eventual Chlean. Of course. :P
Wordcount: 9603
Previous Parts Can be found here: Highway From Hell
Welcome to Existence (Conclusion)
Suicide Slums had always lived up to its name and as Chloe stepped into the warehouse, she knew it would that night, too. She glanced around at the people slumped on the floor, some sleeping, some just staring into space and a spear of pity tweaked her heart.
She couldn't imagine living the way they did. The poverty they lived in. The things they probably did to survive. It made her stomach turn to think about.
She swallowed hard, her heart speeding up as she spotted her targets engaged in a heated exchange with one another. A third man joined them a moment later, their voices raising. For one moment the urge to turn around and run back out was almost overwhelming. But she wasn't going to do that.
Chloe always did her part. And she didn't back down. Ever.
Moving toward them, she shivered, fidgeting the way she'd seen people in withdrawal do and hoping it was convincing enough. Because if it wasn't, she was in big trouble.
The men's conversations ceased as she neared and one of the men looked up. "Well hello, pretty lady."
Her eyes darted around nervously, and she was careful not to focus on any of them too long. The tiny camera in her pin would get the only images she needed. "I need something." Her voice was strained. "I heard I could get it here."
The second man nodded and spoke up. "It depends on what you want."
"Anything," she said, her hands shaking. "I have money. I just...something to take the edge off."
The men shared a look, then the third dug in his pockets. "Fresh glass. Arrived this morning."
"How much?"
"Six hundred for an ounce."
"I only have three hundred." She gave him a pained expression. "But I can get the rest to you by morning."
"No can do," he shook his head. "But, I do have some crank..."
She pulled the wad of bills from her jeans pocket. "I'll take it."
"An eight ball do ya?"
Chloe nodded quickly, not noticing one of the other men eyeing her pin.
He held out his hand. "Three hundred."
She stuffed the money into his hands, shifting from one foot to the other, her breathing a little ragged. She started to chew on her thumbnail.
The second man stepped forward and held out the vial of cocaine. "What's that pin on your shirt?"
She didn't dare look down. "Found it in the trash," she responded, reaching out to take the vial.
"Looks a little new and nice to be trash," he held the vial up.
Chloe felt a cold chill run down her spine. "All right, all right. It's hot," she lied.
The man raised his eyebrow. "Then you won't mind giving it up."
"I already paid," she protested.
"Handler's fee."
Shit. He wasn't going to budge. And she couldn't hand over the pin and risk him seeing the bug. "I'll get what I want somewhere else," she grumbled, turning and starting to head away.
He grabbed her arm tightly. "You're not going anywhere."
Her throat tightened.
Crap.
* * *
"Where the hell did she go?" Sam whispered, following his brother around the corner of the alley.
Dean shook his head, pulling his gun out and keeping it low. "Look for a door."
Nodding, Sam moved away from him and crossed to the other side of the dark alley. He glanced around, hearing a shuffling sound. "You hear that?"
He nodded and moved closer to the noise, discovering a door moments later. "In here."
The hair stood up on the back of his neck as he stepped into the warehouse, following Dean and glancing around at the people--some homeless, some clearly drug addicted--some were both. He winced a little, wondering what on earth Chloe Sullivan would be doing in a place like this. He glanced up, spotting four figures across the room, one much smaller than the other three and he sucked in a breath.*
Using the distraction to his advantage, Dean moved silently across the room, remaining in the shadows, gun aimed carefully.
Sam followed, staying completely silent even as he watched the man's grip on Chloe's arm tighten.
* * *
"Hey, let go of me." She tried to jerk away from him, realizing just how deeply stupid she'd been to come here by herself with no backup. No one even knew where she was. She wasn't going to call the JLA til she'd made the buy and gotten out. Hindsight was a bitch.
"Give up the pin and I will," he growled.
"Fine!" She grabbed the pin off her sweatshirt, ripping the material and throwing it hard onto the floor. "Take it!"
The first man picked it up and examined it. "You bitch. You're a cop!"
She took a step away from him, heart pounding in her chest. The words royally screwed popped into her head.
Third man's face contorted into fury and he pulled his gun out. "Never trust a blonde bitch."
"Don't move," a low voice growled from behind him.
"I second that," another low voice sounded out.
The men turned, looking for the source.
Chloe froze, recognizing the voices almost immediately. Then her eyebrows furrowed. How the hell had they known where she was?
"You know," Dean stepped out of the shadows, gun down at his side. "A single-handed drug bust isn't the smartest thing. The least you could do was have backup."
"Later," Sam said, shooting him a look, keeping his gun trained on the drug dealer with the gun.
Dean smirked and turned to the three. "And you guys, drug lords, should know better than to deal in a warehouse."
The first man pulled a gun and cocked it. "Watch your mouth."
"I wouldn't do that if I were you." Chloe leveled her own gun at his head, eyes dark with anger.
"I'd listen to her, personally. She's pretty scary." Dean commented, casually lifting his own weapon.
A tiny smile tugged at her lips despite the seriousness of the situation.
"You're under arrest," Sam announced.
"Like hell," one man snarled, putting pressure on the trigger. Before he could pull it, a shot rang out and he hit the floor, dead.
"No one turns a pistol on my brother," Dean growled.
Sam turned his head a little to stare at Dean in shock.
"You killed him!" one of the other men said, face paling.
"Yeah," he cocked his gun again and turned it on him. "I can do it again too, if you'd like."
The man quickly put his hands in the air, and so did his accomplice.
"Good choice," Chloe said darkly, reaching into her pocket and pulling her phone out.
He smirked. "I doubt you boys are ever going to see the light of day again."
Sam swallowed hard and looked down at the dead man on the floor.
"Thanks, Arrow," she said into her phone a few moments later. "Backup's on the way."
"Good," he lowered his gun once more.
Within six minutes, the entire JLA flooded the warehouse, taking the two remaining men into custody. Oliver's gaze swept from the dead man on the floor to the Winchesters, then to Chloe. "What happened here?"
"It was self-defense," she said, lifting her chin.
Dean nodded. "Honest. That's all it was."
"We'll deal with it," he said, nodding slightly and barking a string of orders into his headset. "Good work." He headed away.
Chloe felt someone else's gaze on her and she turned to see Clark standing a few feet away, a look of disbelief on his face. She met his eyes and held the gaze, her expression one of cool neutrality.
He opened his mouth to say something, but then shut it, shaking his head.
She lifted her chin once more and turned her back to him, facing Sam and Dean once more. "I don't know how you found me, but...thanks." Her voice was quiet.
"We were in the neighborhood," Dean shrugged. "No problem."
Sam started to ask her what she'd been thinking when he realized Clark was still standing there. He wasn't about to say anything to her in front of the man who'd broken her heart. "Come on. Why don't we all get some dinner?"
"Yeah...and you can recommend it since Sam here only reads brochures."
He glowered at his brother. "Jerk."
Dean smirked. "Not my fault at all, bitch. This lies on your shoulders."
"Dare I ask where you guys were going to eat in Suicide Slums?"
"That what they call this place?" Sam made a face.
"Fitting," Dean mumbled.
"Pretty much," Chloe agreed, leading the way toward the exit.
"We're talking once we sit down again, you know," he informed her, glancing back at Sam and then at her again.
His words were quiet and she glanced at him sideways. "Yeah. I figured."
* * *
Other than her verbal directions, the three of them were silent on the drive to Number One Kitchen, one of Chloe's favorite Chinese restaurants. As they were seated, Chloe excused herself and headed to the restroom, more than eager to wash off the beyond-the-pale makeup she'd dawned for the undercover work.
She drew in a breath and let it out slowly as she washed it all off, and she was able to recognize herself once more. Feeling a little uneasy, she headed back to the table, not looking at either of the two men who'd saved her life.
Dean leaned forward once she sat down again. "What were you thinking?"
Sam winced a little at Dean's tone. He'd been on the receiving end of that 'are you crazy you could have died' over-protective speech from his brother on numerous occasions.
"I was thinking I needed to do my part," she answered.
"Doing your part doesn't mean you go in without backup," he shook his head. "If anything, you're making the situation that much worse. What if you'd been killed? No one would know where to look for you."
"I wasn't planning to try and take them down myself," she said, shifting a little.
"Uh huh. Which is why you went in alone. Right."
She gave him a look. "I was wearing a bug. All I was going to do was make the buy and call Oliver."
He raised an eyebrow. "Were you?"
"Yes. I may be a little reckless sometimes, Dean, but I'm not stupid.*" *
"Oh I don't know, I'd call that move back there pretty stupid*," he shot back. *
Sam shot him a look. "So what was the plan, Chloe?" he asked, his voice softer than Dean's.
She rolled her eyes at the obvious 'good cop, bad cop' routine they had going. "I just told you. I was going to make the buy and get the hell out of there. I was going to call Oliver from the safety of my car."
"Sam," Dean didn't look at his brother, gaze still firmly fixed upon her. "Tell me, because you know me and my memory. What's the first rule about going into a situation like Chloe's?"
"Plan A never works the way you plan for it to. Always have a Plan B," he said automatically.
He nodded. "And what does Plan B always consist of?"
"Knowing when you're likely to need help."
"Right. So...if Chloe didn't do any of that...I would consider her move..."
"Dangerous," he said, giving him a warning look.
"And incredibly, undeniably--"
"Dean."
"Just trying to prove a point here, Sammy."
"You did."
Chloe's expression was neutral. Then she dropped her gaze to the table for a moment. "I know. It wasn't a smart move," she admitted.
"So how about you try not to repeat that move?" Dean's voice softened.
She drew in a breath and looked up at him. "I'll do my best. But...I'd be lying if I said this was the first time I got in over my head. I'm a trouble magnet."
He smirked. "Something you and Sam have very much in common."
Sam snorted. "Look who's talking."
"Careful," he warned, shooting his brother a look.
He raised his eyebrows. "Don't let him fool you. He gets into just as much trouble as I do."
A faint smirk tugged at her lips and she gazed across the table at Dean. "Never would've guessed," she said wryly.
"Hey, that one little stint of mine was because I was saving your ass, need I remind you," he pointed out.
"Which stint? Off the top of my head I can think of about a hundred," Sam said, smirk widening.
“Lets see...my most recent one."
Immediately the smirk faded from Sam's face, his eyes flashing hurt. "I'm gonna get some air," he said quietly, sliding out of the booth and heading out the nearest exit.
Dean sighed. "Sam!"
Chloe bit her lower lip.
"Way to go, Winchester," he grumbled. "Excuse me, Chloe."
"Sure thing," she said softly, watching him go.
Once outside, he quickly spotted his brother leaning against the wall, his head bowed. "Sam."
"Don't," he said quietly.
"You know I didn't mean it in a bad way," he said quietly.
He drew in a breath and let it out slowly. "I just...I don't think that's something to joke about, Dean."
"But Sam, I'm okay. It happened in the past and you brought me back. Everything's okay again."
He turned his head to look at his brother. "You were gone for six months. Six months, Dean. It's not okay."
"Would you like me to translate that to hell time? Because trust me, Sam. Six months is nothing. In my mind, six months is okay."
He blanched a little.
His expression sent a jolt of guilt through Dean. "Sam, come on. Lets...just go back inside."
"Sure," he murmured, not looking at his brother.
Sighing, Dean turned and walked back inside, vowing never to tell Sam another thing about hell. If mentioning just that affected his brother so deeply, then he didn't want to reveal anymore. That information might just kill him.
* * *
When they returned to Chloe's apartment, Dean sent Sam back to the hotel room with the Impala. Telling him he'd take a cab in a little. Once his brother was gone, Dean turned back to Chloe. "Can we talk?"
"Yeah, sure." She nodded a little and pulled her keys out of her pocket. "Come on up."
He smiled slightly. "Thanks."
She smiled back a bit and unlocked the door to the apartment building, and led him up three flights of stairs where she unlocked the door to her own apartment.
He stepped inside after she unlocked the door and put his hands in his pockets, waiting for her.
She followed him, shutting the door quietly and turning the lock. "Want something to drink?"
He nodded. "Sure."
"Coffee, soda, water or wine cooler?" she asked, heading into the kitchen.
He raised an eyebrow. "What? No beer?"
She smirked a little. "I don't drink the stuff. Sorry."
"I'll take coffee, then."
"How do you take it?"
"Black."
Nodding, she set to work and produced two mugs of hot coffee within a few minutes, handing one over to him.
He took it gratefully. "Thanks."
“No problem." She motioned to the sofa and moved to sit at one end of it.
He took a seat, putting his mug down on the end table.
"So what's up?" Chloe asked softly, gazing at him.
He looked down. "I've been doing some thinking."
Her eyebrows furrowed. "Okay."
He took a breath. "I'll join the JLA."
She stared at him, surprise clear on her features. "What made you change your mind?"
"The whole warehouse thing," he shrugged. "I think I realized that I miss doing that kind of stuff."
She was quiet for a moment. "Saving damsels in distress?" she teased gently.
He laughed softly. "Something like that."
She smiled, her eyes bright. He had a nice laugh. She hoped to hear more of it in the future.
"About earlier..." He shifted.
She raised an eyebrow.
"I'm sorry I got into lecture mode like that."
Chloe was silent for a moment. "Well, fair warning. I occasionally hit that mode, too."
"Warning noted."
She smiled faintly and hesitantly reached out to touch his arm.
He looked down at her hand and slid closer to her, until it touched his arm.
"Welcome to the team," she said softly.
"I think I like the welcome wagon."
Fic 2: Welcome to Existence
Authors: Xtremeroswellian and Did_It_Once
Rated: PG-13
Spoilers: “No Rest for the Wicked" for Supernatural. Nothing terribly spoilery from Smallville if you watched any of sixth or seventh season.
Disclaimer: Not ours. Don’t sue.
Characters: Chloe, Dean, Sam, the JLA.
Pairing: None yet. Eventual Chlean. Of course. :P
Wordcount: 9603
Previous Parts Can be found here: Highway From Hell
Welcome to Existence (Conclusion)
Suicide Slums had always lived up to its name and as Chloe stepped into the warehouse, she knew it would that night, too. She glanced around at the people slumped on the floor, some sleeping, some just staring into space and a spear of pity tweaked her heart.
She couldn't imagine living the way they did. The poverty they lived in. The things they probably did to survive. It made her stomach turn to think about.
She swallowed hard, her heart speeding up as she spotted her targets engaged in a heated exchange with one another. A third man joined them a moment later, their voices raising. For one moment the urge to turn around and run back out was almost overwhelming. But she wasn't going to do that.
Chloe always did her part. And she didn't back down. Ever.
Moving toward them, she shivered, fidgeting the way she'd seen people in withdrawal do and hoping it was convincing enough. Because if it wasn't, she was in big trouble.
The men's conversations ceased as she neared and one of the men looked up. "Well hello, pretty lady."
Her eyes darted around nervously, and she was careful not to focus on any of them too long. The tiny camera in her pin would get the only images she needed. "I need something." Her voice was strained. "I heard I could get it here."
The second man nodded and spoke up. "It depends on what you want."
"Anything," she said, her hands shaking. "I have money. I just...something to take the edge off."
The men shared a look, then the third dug in his pockets. "Fresh glass. Arrived this morning."
"How much?"
"Six hundred for an ounce."
"I only have three hundred." She gave him a pained expression. "But I can get the rest to you by morning."
"No can do," he shook his head. "But, I do have some crank..."
She pulled the wad of bills from her jeans pocket. "I'll take it."
"An eight ball do ya?"
Chloe nodded quickly, not noticing one of the other men eyeing her pin.
He held out his hand. "Three hundred."
She stuffed the money into his hands, shifting from one foot to the other, her breathing a little ragged. She started to chew on her thumbnail.
The second man stepped forward and held out the vial of cocaine. "What's that pin on your shirt?"
She didn't dare look down. "Found it in the trash," she responded, reaching out to take the vial.
"Looks a little new and nice to be trash," he held the vial up.
Chloe felt a cold chill run down her spine. "All right, all right. It's hot," she lied.
The man raised his eyebrow. "Then you won't mind giving it up."
"I already paid," she protested.
"Handler's fee."
Shit. He wasn't going to budge. And she couldn't hand over the pin and risk him seeing the bug. "I'll get what I want somewhere else," she grumbled, turning and starting to head away.
He grabbed her arm tightly. "You're not going anywhere."
Her throat tightened.
Crap.
* * *
"Where the hell did she go?" Sam whispered, following his brother around the corner of the alley.
Dean shook his head, pulling his gun out and keeping it low. "Look for a door."
Nodding, Sam moved away from him and crossed to the other side of the dark alley. He glanced around, hearing a shuffling sound. "You hear that?"
He nodded and moved closer to the noise, discovering a door moments later. "In here."
The hair stood up on the back of his neck as he stepped into the warehouse, following Dean and glancing around at the people--some homeless, some clearly drug addicted--some were both. He winced a little, wondering what on earth Chloe Sullivan would be doing in a place like this. He glanced up, spotting four figures across the room, one much smaller than the other three and he sucked in a breath.*
Using the distraction to his advantage, Dean moved silently across the room, remaining in the shadows, gun aimed carefully.
Sam followed, staying completely silent even as he watched the man's grip on Chloe's arm tighten.
* * *
"Hey, let go of me." She tried to jerk away from him, realizing just how deeply stupid she'd been to come here by herself with no backup. No one even knew where she was. She wasn't going to call the JLA til she'd made the buy and gotten out. Hindsight was a bitch.
"Give up the pin and I will," he growled.
"Fine!" She grabbed the pin off her sweatshirt, ripping the material and throwing it hard onto the floor. "Take it!"
The first man picked it up and examined it. "You bitch. You're a cop!"
She took a step away from him, heart pounding in her chest. The words royally screwed popped into her head.
Third man's face contorted into fury and he pulled his gun out. "Never trust a blonde bitch."
"Don't move," a low voice growled from behind him.
"I second that," another low voice sounded out.
The men turned, looking for the source.
Chloe froze, recognizing the voices almost immediately. Then her eyebrows furrowed. How the hell had they known where she was?
"You know," Dean stepped out of the shadows, gun down at his side. "A single-handed drug bust isn't the smartest thing. The least you could do was have backup."
"Later," Sam said, shooting him a look, keeping his gun trained on the drug dealer with the gun.
Dean smirked and turned to the three. "And you guys, drug lords, should know better than to deal in a warehouse."
The first man pulled a gun and cocked it. "Watch your mouth."
"I wouldn't do that if I were you." Chloe leveled her own gun at his head, eyes dark with anger.
"I'd listen to her, personally. She's pretty scary." Dean commented, casually lifting his own weapon.
A tiny smile tugged at her lips despite the seriousness of the situation.
"You're under arrest," Sam announced.
"Like hell," one man snarled, putting pressure on the trigger. Before he could pull it, a shot rang out and he hit the floor, dead.
"No one turns a pistol on my brother," Dean growled.
Sam turned his head a little to stare at Dean in shock.
"You killed him!" one of the other men said, face paling.
"Yeah," he cocked his gun again and turned it on him. "I can do it again too, if you'd like."
The man quickly put his hands in the air, and so did his accomplice.
"Good choice," Chloe said darkly, reaching into her pocket and pulling her phone out.
He smirked. "I doubt you boys are ever going to see the light of day again."
Sam swallowed hard and looked down at the dead man on the floor.
"Thanks, Arrow," she said into her phone a few moments later. "Backup's on the way."
"Good," he lowered his gun once more.
Within six minutes, the entire JLA flooded the warehouse, taking the two remaining men into custody. Oliver's gaze swept from the dead man on the floor to the Winchesters, then to Chloe. "What happened here?"
"It was self-defense," she said, lifting her chin.
Dean nodded. "Honest. That's all it was."
"We'll deal with it," he said, nodding slightly and barking a string of orders into his headset. "Good work." He headed away.
Chloe felt someone else's gaze on her and she turned to see Clark standing a few feet away, a look of disbelief on his face. She met his eyes and held the gaze, her expression one of cool neutrality.
He opened his mouth to say something, but then shut it, shaking his head.
She lifted her chin once more and turned her back to him, facing Sam and Dean once more. "I don't know how you found me, but...thanks." Her voice was quiet.
"We were in the neighborhood," Dean shrugged. "No problem."
Sam started to ask her what she'd been thinking when he realized Clark was still standing there. He wasn't about to say anything to her in front of the man who'd broken her heart. "Come on. Why don't we all get some dinner?"
"Yeah...and you can recommend it since Sam here only reads brochures."
He glowered at his brother. "Jerk."
Dean smirked. "Not my fault at all, bitch. This lies on your shoulders."
"Dare I ask where you guys were going to eat in Suicide Slums?"
"That what they call this place?" Sam made a face.
"Fitting," Dean mumbled.
"Pretty much," Chloe agreed, leading the way toward the exit.
"We're talking once we sit down again, you know," he informed her, glancing back at Sam and then at her again.
His words were quiet and she glanced at him sideways. "Yeah. I figured."
* * *
Other than her verbal directions, the three of them were silent on the drive to Number One Kitchen, one of Chloe's favorite Chinese restaurants. As they were seated, Chloe excused herself and headed to the restroom, more than eager to wash off the beyond-the-pale makeup she'd dawned for the undercover work.
She drew in a breath and let it out slowly as she washed it all off, and she was able to recognize herself once more. Feeling a little uneasy, she headed back to the table, not looking at either of the two men who'd saved her life.
Dean leaned forward once she sat down again. "What were you thinking?"
Sam winced a little at Dean's tone. He'd been on the receiving end of that 'are you crazy you could have died' over-protective speech from his brother on numerous occasions.
"I was thinking I needed to do my part," she answered.
"Doing your part doesn't mean you go in without backup," he shook his head. "If anything, you're making the situation that much worse. What if you'd been killed? No one would know where to look for you."
"I wasn't planning to try and take them down myself," she said, shifting a little.
"Uh huh. Which is why you went in alone. Right."
She gave him a look. "I was wearing a bug. All I was going to do was make the buy and call Oliver."
He raised an eyebrow. "Were you?"
"Yes. I may be a little reckless sometimes, Dean, but I'm not stupid.*" *
"Oh I don't know, I'd call that move back there pretty stupid*," he shot back. *
Sam shot him a look. "So what was the plan, Chloe?" he asked, his voice softer than Dean's.
She rolled her eyes at the obvious 'good cop, bad cop' routine they had going. "I just told you. I was going to make the buy and get the hell out of there. I was going to call Oliver from the safety of my car."
"Sam," Dean didn't look at his brother, gaze still firmly fixed upon her. "Tell me, because you know me and my memory. What's the first rule about going into a situation like Chloe's?"
"Plan A never works the way you plan for it to. Always have a Plan B," he said automatically.
He nodded. "And what does Plan B always consist of?"
"Knowing when you're likely to need help."
"Right. So...if Chloe didn't do any of that...I would consider her move..."
"Dangerous," he said, giving him a warning look.
"And incredibly, undeniably--"
"Dean."
"Just trying to prove a point here, Sammy."
"You did."
Chloe's expression was neutral. Then she dropped her gaze to the table for a moment. "I know. It wasn't a smart move," she admitted.
"So how about you try not to repeat that move?" Dean's voice softened.
She drew in a breath and looked up at him. "I'll do my best. But...I'd be lying if I said this was the first time I got in over my head. I'm a trouble magnet."
He smirked. "Something you and Sam have very much in common."
Sam snorted. "Look who's talking."
"Careful," he warned, shooting his brother a look.
He raised his eyebrows. "Don't let him fool you. He gets into just as much trouble as I do."
A faint smirk tugged at her lips and she gazed across the table at Dean. "Never would've guessed," she said wryly.
"Hey, that one little stint of mine was because I was saving your ass, need I remind you," he pointed out.
"Which stint? Off the top of my head I can think of about a hundred," Sam said, smirk widening.
“Lets see...my most recent one."
Immediately the smirk faded from Sam's face, his eyes flashing hurt. "I'm gonna get some air," he said quietly, sliding out of the booth and heading out the nearest exit.
Dean sighed. "Sam!"
Chloe bit her lower lip.
"Way to go, Winchester," he grumbled. "Excuse me, Chloe."
"Sure thing," she said softly, watching him go.
Once outside, he quickly spotted his brother leaning against the wall, his head bowed. "Sam."
"Don't," he said quietly.
"You know I didn't mean it in a bad way," he said quietly.
He drew in a breath and let it out slowly. "I just...I don't think that's something to joke about, Dean."
"But Sam, I'm okay. It happened in the past and you brought me back. Everything's okay again."
He turned his head to look at his brother. "You were gone for six months. Six months, Dean. It's not okay."
"Would you like me to translate that to hell time? Because trust me, Sam. Six months is nothing. In my mind, six months is okay."
He blanched a little.
His expression sent a jolt of guilt through Dean. "Sam, come on. Lets...just go back inside."
"Sure," he murmured, not looking at his brother.
Sighing, Dean turned and walked back inside, vowing never to tell Sam another thing about hell. If mentioning just that affected his brother so deeply, then he didn't want to reveal anymore. That information might just kill him.
* * *
When they returned to Chloe's apartment, Dean sent Sam back to the hotel room with the Impala. Telling him he'd take a cab in a little. Once his brother was gone, Dean turned back to Chloe. "Can we talk?"
"Yeah, sure." She nodded a little and pulled her keys out of her pocket. "Come on up."
He smiled slightly. "Thanks."
She smiled back a bit and unlocked the door to the apartment building, and led him up three flights of stairs where she unlocked the door to her own apartment.
He stepped inside after she unlocked the door and put his hands in his pockets, waiting for her.
She followed him, shutting the door quietly and turning the lock. "Want something to drink?"
He nodded. "Sure."
"Coffee, soda, water or wine cooler?" she asked, heading into the kitchen.
He raised an eyebrow. "What? No beer?"
She smirked a little. "I don't drink the stuff. Sorry."
"I'll take coffee, then."
"How do you take it?"
"Black."
Nodding, she set to work and produced two mugs of hot coffee within a few minutes, handing one over to him.
He took it gratefully. "Thanks."
“No problem." She motioned to the sofa and moved to sit at one end of it.
He took a seat, putting his mug down on the end table.
"So what's up?" Chloe asked softly, gazing at him.
He looked down. "I've been doing some thinking."
Her eyebrows furrowed. "Okay."
He took a breath. "I'll join the JLA."
She stared at him, surprise clear on her features. "What made you change your mind?"
"The whole warehouse thing," he shrugged. "I think I realized that I miss doing that kind of stuff."
She was quiet for a moment. "Saving damsels in distress?" she teased gently.
He laughed softly. "Something like that."
She smiled, her eyes bright. He had a nice laugh. She hoped to hear more of it in the future.
"About earlier..." He shifted.
She raised an eyebrow.
"I'm sorry I got into lecture mode like that."
Chloe was silent for a moment. "Well, fair warning. I occasionally hit that mode, too."
"Warning noted."
She smiled faintly and hesitantly reached out to touch his arm.
He looked down at her hand and slid closer to her, until it touched his arm.
"Welcome to the team," she said softly.
"I think I like the welcome wagon."