The Same Coin [9/?]
Ten days that’s not too long to wait between updates. I wish I could promise it be ten or less for the next but I’m still mentally working out the details for the next chapter. I had to take a few liberties with dates from a couple of episodes of Supernatural I rather like the fact that the show often uses the date the episode airs as the date it happened, makes it easy for using specific dates. Enjoy!
One | Two | Three | Four | Five | Six | Seven | Eight
Title: The Same Coin
Shows: Supernatural/Stargate SG-1
Beta: i_paint_the_sky
Word Count: 3 848
Rating: PG-13
Genre: Adventure/Hurt/Comfort
Spoilers: None for either show
Disclaimer: I don't own the characters from either Supernatural or Stargate SG-1
Summary: Crossover with Stargate SG-1. Sam and Dean are on the hunt for a demon, what happens when the rash of unexplained deaths attracts the attention of the SGC? -Set during Season 2 of Supernatural-
“What the hell was that?” Jack demanded, standing with his shoulder pressed against the opened door of the elevator.
Dean ignored the question, his full attention on Sam who was struggling to orient himself. He cursed the damn sling holding his left arm tightly against his chest and would have moved to rip it off if his right arm hadn’t been supporting Sam.
Sam groaned, giving his head a slight shake before forcing himself to straighten where he leaned heavily against the wall. Brown eyes flashed towards Dean, looking focused and alert. “I’m alright,” he assured, shrugging Dean’s hand away.
“What did you see?” Dean asked softly.
“I saw someone die,” Sam returned bluntly with an unimpressed look.
Dean rolled his eyes. “I meant specifics.”
Sam appeared to take a moment, drawing in a couple of calming breaths. “I think it was tonight…” he began.
“Excuse me?” Jack asked dubiously. “You ‘saw’ tonight?” he exchanged a long pointed look with Samantha and Daniel.
“Great,” Sam muttered so only Dean could hear. “As if he didn’t already find us hard to believe.”
“Not much we can do about that,” Dean said, motioning Sam to move towards the door. There wasn’t much point in them remaining in the elevator.
“Was that a seizure?” Captain Carter asked, expression showing concern.
“No,” Sam told her quickly, straightening up to his full height. “Can we just forget about it for now?” his tone was more than a little pleading.
Jack didn’t appear like he was ready to drop the subject at all but Carter stepped up beside him, “Sir, the General is waiting.”
“Right,” he drawled, continuing to stare at Sam as though seeing him for the first time.
Dean followed Sam out of the elevator, keeping a careful eye on his brother; it didn’t matter to Dean that this wasn’t Sam’s first vision, nothing was going to make this okay. There was no denying the visions scared the hell out of him. There was no controlling them and that wasn’t even taking into account that the visions meant there was something ‘different’ about Sam. He tried not to consider the implications but Gordon Walker had made it all too clear for him.
Some hunters were going to view his brother as something evil that needed to be hunted.
Dean forced the thought away; he wasn’t going to let that happen. John had given him a job and he intended to do it. He cast a quick glance at Sam’s face, relieved to see some of the color had returned to the younger man’s features.
The General was waiting for them in the briefing room, seated at the head of the table exactly where Dean had seen him only hours before. Teal’c stood off to one side, expression blank, hands clasped behind his back.
“Colonel?” Hammond questioned, as soon as Jack approached. “What can you tell me?”
“Well, General,” O’Neill returned briskly, “there’s been no further signs of the creature on base. Not that we’d be able to fight it, according to Sam,” he thrust in thumb in the younger hunter’s direction.
“Is that so?” the General sounded less than convinced.
“I’m only aware of one weapon that can kill a demon outright and it’s not military issue,” Dean tossed out. He hated to think of the colt and what it cost his family but there was no denying it would have made their lives a lot easier if they could figure out how it worked.
Hammond looked back to Jack. “What else?”
“Daniel seems to think some of what the Winchesters have been saying checks out, isn’t that right?” he asked, looking to the archeologist.
“True,” Daniel agreed, casting a brief glance towards Sam and Dean, his blue eyes lingering on the younger for a second longer. “At the very least they’ve put far too much effort into it if it weren’t.”
The General gestured that everyone should take their seats. “What do we know about the creature?”
“Demon,” Dean said gruffly, putting himself between Sam and the rest of the room as he took a seat across from Daniel. His brother’s expression had been distant since they’d come into the briefing room, no doubt replaying his vision again and again.
“How do we stop it?” Hammond asked; to his credit he was looking directly at Dean. “Will it attack again?”
Dean turned his chair slightly, forcing himself for the moment to stop fussing with the strap of the sling. “I can’t say whether it will attack again or not,” he told them honestly.
“Sir, I believe we’ve discovered the link between all the victims,” Captain Carter spoke up, leaning her folded hands on the tabletop. “And if we’re right the attack on the Winchesters was an anomaly most likely brought on when they attacked the ‘creature’ the other night.”
“And what is it?”
“Well sir,” Samantha continued quickly, “all the victims shared a Native American background whether it was pure, one parent being a direct descendent of a tribe, or far more diluted, as thin a link as one-sixteenth.”
Dean turned to regard his brother who was looking towards the head of the table but didn’t appear to be seeing it. “What did you see?” he asked again, keeping his voice low.
“Two women, running from the demon,” Sam replied just as quietly.
“And you think this is going to happen tonight?” he pressed. The time between Sam’s visions and the actual event was never fixed; the last few had basically happened on top of each other. Dean knew that upset Sam more than having to witness the gruesome deaths. What was the point of it all if he couldn’t at least try and stop it?
Sam’s hands flexed on the surface of the table. “It was dark out.” He closed his eyes for a moment clearly trying to remember. “I saw the street sign.” His eyes flashed open.
“Well why now?” That question had been sounding at the back of Dean’s mind since the vision had started. Nothing they’d seen so far even remotely pointed towards the Yellow Eyed Demon having anything to do with these demonic attacks. And Sam’s visions had never happened without being related to Yellow Eyes. Dean told himself they had to be missing something; he didn’t like the thought that Sam’s powers were branching out.
Sam shook his head. “She spoke to me, Dean.”
“What, the girl?” He had to fight to keep the conversation between them, his surprise almost getting the better of him.
“Her name’s Chloe,” Sam told him pointedly.
“Okay,” he whispered, “what do you mean spoke to you?”
The younger Winchester shrugged his shoulders, appearing at a loss for words. “I got the feeling she knew I was there watching…” he trailed off helplessly. “I think she might be one of the psychic children,” Sam muttered, looking down at his hands.
“I’m sorry,” Daniel spoke up, one finger raised and pointing towards Sam. “Did you just say psychic?”
Dean sighed as the conversation at the other end of the table came to an abrupt halt and all eyes turned to them. “Doubt there’s a way to phrase this that Jack will accept…” he hissed at Sam.
“I think I know who the next victim will be,” Sam said honestly.
“How?” the General asked bluntly.
“Can we skip all that? Just go with a gut feeling?” Dean tried waving away the other question; he knew it was a long shot at best.
Jack wasn’t about to disappoint. “Do I look like someone who subscribes to blind faith?” he asked incredulously.
Dean smirked, completely unimpressed but not in the least bit surprised. “No.”
“So, care to try again?” the Colonel drawled, heavy gaze remaining fixed on the two of them.
“Are we just going to sit here and do nothing?” Sam demanded suddenly, the heat in his voice surprising Dean a little. “She is going to die, unless we stop it! And there’s still time!”
“Son, who’s going to die?” Hammond asked, appearing at a glance to be genuinely concerned.
Sam shook his head, frustration rolling off him. “Her name’s Chloe, she lives in town on Pine Street or something.”
“And you saw this?” Daniel asked, absently adjusting his glasses. “In what? A vision?”
“Would you believe me if I said yes?” Sam demanded bluntly.
“No,” Jack returned lightly.
The younger Winchester slammed his palms against the table pushing his chair back sharply.
“Hey,” Dean said softly, reaching across his body to grip Sam’s arm with his left hand. “There’s still time,” he assured.
“General Hammond,” Teal’c deep resonating voice was something of a surprise to Dean, the Jaffa spoke so rarely. “I believe Sam Winchester speaks the truth.”
All eyes were on Teal’c now; he sat stoically, hands folded calmly in front of him.
“Oh you do?” Jack was the first to speak up skeptically. “You believe he’s psychic?”
Teal’c raised one eyebrow. “I believe Sam Winchester believes it is so.”
“You believe you’re psychic?” Jack demanded, leaning one arm against the table as he swiveled his chair to face Sam. “What number am I thinking of?” he asked, pointing a finger towards his temple.
Sam groaned dropping his head into the palm of his right hand. “I can’t read minds,” he stressed angrily.
“Then in what way are you a psychic?” Daniel asked, sounding more curious than condescending.
Dean turned his full attention to Sam, silently indicating that he was leaving this entirely in his brother’s hands. He’d berated Sam once for confiding in Ellen but, unlike at the Roadhouse where the hunters might view Sam as prey, all they had to face here was Jack’s skepticism.
Sam was silent for several minutes, perhaps weighing his options though Dean didn’t see that they had all that many. “About a year ago, I started getting these…visions,” he swallowed hard. “Of people’s deaths,” he said finally, voice bitter.
“And you believe they’re real?” Captain Carter asked, sounding confused more than anything.
“Saginaw, Michigan,” Sam stated bluntly, his expression becoming guarded but Dean still recognized the hurt his brother was feeling at the memories, “February 7th, 2006: Jim Miller, Roger Miller, Max Miller. Guthrie, Oklahoma, October 27th, 2006: Dr. Jennings, Holly Beckett, Ansem Weems.”
“Sam…” Dean spoke his name quietly, not at all surprised Sam was keeping a running list of the people he’d ‘failed’ to save. He didn’t think either Max or Ansem’s names should have been on that list but wasn’t shocked that Sam thought he was responsible.
“They’re all dead,” Sam ground out bitterly. “After I watched it happen.”
“You saw it happen?” Daniel asked, blue gaze intense. “But you weren’t able to stop it from happening?”
Dean shot the archeologist a glare. “No surprises people don’t like to take advice from strangers.”
“I don’t always get so much warning before the attack is going to happen,” Sam explained pointedly, his attention honing in on General Hammond. “Would it kill you to at least look into it?” he asked and Dean wished his brother didn’t sound so desperate but he understood all too well.
All eyes turned to General Hammond, who was watching Sam intently. “Captain Carter, track down this girl,” he instructed suddenly.
“Sir,” she replied sharply, pushing back her chair.
“She’s twenty-three years old, if that helps any,” Sam was quick to offer.
“General, you’re actually taking this seriously?” Jack scoffed, also pushing his chair away from the table.
“As Sam said, there’s no harm in looking into this,” Hammond answered calmly. “For the moment though I’d like Dr. Fraiser to take a look at you,” he said looking pointedly at Sam.
Dean stiffened in his seat, “What are you expecting to find?” he demanded angrily.
“Dude,” Sam said quietly. “It’s okay, whatever it takes to save Chloe.”
“Fine, but you’re no one’s lab rat,” he muttered rather loudly.
“Teal’c would you accompany them to the infirmary,” the General ordered as he got to his feet.
The Jaffa nodded his head as he got up from his chair. “Come, Dean and Sam Winchester,” he said formally, stopping near the end of the table.
Dean looked at Sam with a raised eyebrow before following Teal’c from the room. It wasn’t often that Dean was made to feel short but standing between his brother and the Jaffa he could forget for a moment that he was above average in height as well.
---SPN/SG-1---
“I understand. Thank you, Doctor,” Hammond spoke into his phone as Jack stepping into the office.
“General, I’m really beginning to think these kids have a couple of screws loose,” Jack said once the General had hung up the phone.
“I’ll admit I find visions of the future a little hard to swallow,” the General agreed, taking a seat behind his desk. “However he did seem genuinely concerned for this girl’s safety.”
“Or sending us running in a different direction,” Jack groused as he glanced out the window to the briefing room.
“So if this ‘demon’ turned out to be some form of alien, you’d be happier?”
Jack considered the question for a moment. “I know aliens exist; if there is an afterlife this isn’t the one I’d have voted for.” The Colonel shook his head, “Ghosts, demons, next thing they’re going to tell me zombies are real.”
“And if they are?” Hammond asked, clearly content to continue playing devil’s advocate.
“Sir, I face what I can see. Not generally what people tell me they’ve seen,” he replied bluntly.
Hammond rested his right hand on the surface of his desk, looking Jack directly in the eye. “Well, you’ve at least seen one of these demons,” the General pointed out.
“Yeah,” the word was clipped as Jack took a seat on the edge of a chair. “Sir, we had enough to worry about with the Gou’ald before Daniel opened this can of worms.” Jack felt an almost uncontrollable urge to cuff the archeologist across the back of the head next time he saw him.
“What would you suggest?”
“I don’t suppose dropping them in some out of the way corner of the world is an option,” Jack joked, though at times he was sorely tempted.
“No, I don’t think it is,” the General agreed with a rueful shake of his head.
Jack shook his head slowly, feeling a little bemused at the entire situation. “Should this even still be our problem?” he asked, changing the subject slightly. “It’s not like we don’t have enough to deal with already.”
“Who would you pass this off too?” Hammond asked. “The police? We may not be dealing with aliens but the local authorities are no better equipped to handle this than if we were.”
“So continue working with the Winchesters, at least until this demon is dead,” Jack clarified, moving to get up.
General Hammond nodded his head. “At least look into this girl. If she does in fact exist then we have an obligation to try and save her.”
“If she’s even at risk,” Jack couldn’t resist pointing out.
“Right,” Hammond agreed, waving him away.
Walking out of the General’s office, Jack made his way down the spiral stairs to the control room where her found Carter seated at a computer station, her attention divided between two screens. “What’d you got?” he asked, leaning his right arm across the top of one monitor.
Captain Carter glanced up with a tiny smile. “Age, first name, and street.” Sam shook her head, appearing a little frustrated. “It’s going to take me some time to track her down. But I did pull up the police reports on those victims Sam listed.”
“And?” he asked curiously.
“All but two of them are listed as suicides,” she replied, attention returning to the screen. “Of those two, Roger Miller was listed as a freak accident and Ansem Weems as self-defense.”
“None of that proves Sam had visions of the deaths before they happened.”
She nodded in agreement. “There’s no way to even prove he’s having visions of the future.” Captain Carter turned in her seat. “Logically speaking, the chances of that happening--”
Jack held up a hand to cut off Sam’s no doubt detailed explanation. “What’s this?” he asked instead, pointing towards the second monitor where a window was flashing.
“This,” Sam said, turning back to the screen, “ss a list of all the girls named Chloe born in 1983, just in the city of Cold Springs.”
“And if she wasn’t born here?” Jack asked with a crooked grin.
The Captain shuddered. “I did a nationwide search first. You don’t even want to know how many hits I received.” She began working her way though the list of names. “Sir, what are we supposed to do if we find this girl?”
“General Hammond wants us to look into it,” he replied with a shrug.
A sudden smile broke out on Sam’s face. “This could be the girl we’re looking for…” she said, sounding a little excited. “Chloe Lynn Cole, born August 10th,1983. The only child of Tyler and Lynn Cole, who live on 248 West Pine Street.”
“Alright,” Jack said straightening up. “That sounds like our girl.”
Sam nodded once. “This doesn’t prove that Sam Winchester has visions of the future,” she said adamantly.
“Dr. Fraiser’s looking into it but I don’t think she’ll find anything conclusive either,” Jack commented, pulling a hand through his short hair. Janet had already examined both Winchesters when they’d been brought in and hadn’t found anything unusual. “As for the girl, General Hammond wants us to look into it. So long as this creature is out there killing people, it’s our responsibility to stop it.”
“Yes, sir.”
---SPN/SG-1---
“Sam.”
Janet was waiting for them when they arrived, one hand patting the bed she stood beside. “General Hammond called,” she explained with a smile.
Sam moved somewhat reluctantly to take a seat in front of her, letting Janet take his wrist with her right hand. He wasn’t nearly as okay with this as he’d let on back in the briefing room. But he’d wanted to keep Dean from saying anything they’d both regret and if this is what it was going to take to save Chloe’s life he wasn’t going to refuse. Too many people had died in recent months for Sam to take any risks now.
“How’re you feeling?” she asked, reaching for the penlight in her coat pocket.
“Fine,” he replied, casting a quick glance towards Dean who had taken a seat on the opposite bed near where Teal’c quietly stood watching.
She reached up with her left hand to steady his head before swiping the light across his vision. “Can you describe how the vision manifests?”
Sam winced at the brightness but managed to keep his head still. “Sudden severe headache,” he replied with a shrug looking again to Dean. His brother was watching him like a hawk, the offensive sling resting beside him on the bed.
“Can you take off your over shirt?” she requested, slipping the light away before reaching for a blood pressure cuff.
He did as she asked, shrugging aside the button down shirt and allowing her to wrap the cuff around his right arm.
“Does this happen often?” she continued, watching her work.
“Not really,” he drew in a breath, trying to decide how much he actually wanted to say. “They started as vivid dreams.”
“I think you mean nightmares,” Dean corrected.
Sam rolled his eyes in response. “Whatever.”
Dr. Fraiser pulled the stethoscope from her ears and dropped one hand onto her hip. “I’m not sure what to say,” she admitted, after a brief silence. “Your blood pressure’s on the high side of normal but still normal. I took another look at your MRI after we didn’t find the Gou’ald but everything looks normal there too. And your blood tests are all coming back clean,” she shrugged, offering him an encouraging smile. “Far as I can tell you’re completely healthy.”
“Dr. Fraiser,” Teal’c spoke up suddenly. “You have no explanation for Sam Winchester’s visions?”
“There’s just so much about the brain we still haven’t figured out,” she replied somewhat helplessly.
“So you at least believe it’s possible,” Dean said, stating it as fact rather than a question.
Janet smiled. “If there’s one thing I’ve learned in this job, it’s anything’s possible.”
“Don’t suppose you have any way of convincing Jack,” Sam muttered reaching for his shirt.
---SPN/SG-1---
“What exactly do you plan on telling her?” Carter asked curiously.
Jack glanced briefly away from the road to his passenger. “I haven’t thought that far ahead,” he admitted with a sigh.
“Perhaps we should have asked the Winchesters, this would have been their next step,” she said.
“We’re only going there to confirm that Chloe Cole actually still lives there,” he said, turning onto the winding road that was West Pine Street.
Sam leaned her arm against the window. “We should probably ask if she’s ever heard of Sam and Dean Winchester as well. They might not expect us to actually speak to this girl.”
The Colonel nodded in agreement: that would at least be one answer to what had happened today, an answer he’d be much happier swallowing.
“What the hell?” he muttered when a bend in the road revealed a police barricade across the width of the street.
“Could the attack have already happened?” Captain Carter asked dubiously.
Jack shook his head. “The house is about another quarter mile up the road, police wouldn’t block off that much.” He threw the car into park and got out.
Local residence milled about the edge of the parameter, creating a low buzz on confusion. Jack strode up to the roadblock without stopping, Sam following to his left. A young officer stepped away from his control car and came quickly to meet them.
“I’m sorry sir, the road’s closed,” he explained, sounding as though he’d said it far too many times already.
“I’m Colonel Jack O’Neill,” he introduced, extending his hand to the flustered officer. “Can you tell me what’s going on?”
“Officer Jones,” he said in reply. “We believe there’s a gas leak about a quarter mile up the road.”
Jack felt a sinking sensation in his gut, he recognized all to well. “That wouldn’t be 248, would it?” he guessed, sharing a quick glance with Sam.
Jones blinked in surprise. “How’d you know?”
“Call it a lucky guess,” Jack brushed the matter aside quickly. “What about the family?”
The officer looked a little less sure about answering that question, which told Jack something as well.
“Can you at least tell me if Chloe’s alright?” he tried again, adding a good deal of worry to his voice. “She’s my goddaughter.”
The man’s expression became less guarded and he offered Jack a sympathetic smile. “I’m sorry sir, right now she’s missing and possibly our prime suspect.”
Carter took a step closer the officer. “Do you know what alerted them to the gas leak?”
“Yes, ma’am,” he said with an emphatic nod. “I was among the first responders, place reeked of rotten eggs.”
Thanks for reading, I hope you enjoyed!
Go to: Eight | Ten
One | Two | Three | Four | Five | Six | Seven | Eight
Title: The Same Coin
Shows: Supernatural/Stargate SG-1
Beta: i_paint_the_sky
Word Count: 3 848
Rating: PG-13
Genre: Adventure/Hurt/Comfort
Spoilers: None for either show
Disclaimer: I don't own the characters from either Supernatural or Stargate SG-1
Summary: Crossover with Stargate SG-1. Sam and Dean are on the hunt for a demon, what happens when the rash of unexplained deaths attracts the attention of the SGC? -Set during Season 2 of Supernatural-
“What the hell was that?” Jack demanded, standing with his shoulder pressed against the opened door of the elevator.
Dean ignored the question, his full attention on Sam who was struggling to orient himself. He cursed the damn sling holding his left arm tightly against his chest and would have moved to rip it off if his right arm hadn’t been supporting Sam.
Sam groaned, giving his head a slight shake before forcing himself to straighten where he leaned heavily against the wall. Brown eyes flashed towards Dean, looking focused and alert. “I’m alright,” he assured, shrugging Dean’s hand away.
“What did you see?” Dean asked softly.
“I saw someone die,” Sam returned bluntly with an unimpressed look.
Dean rolled his eyes. “I meant specifics.”
Sam appeared to take a moment, drawing in a couple of calming breaths. “I think it was tonight…” he began.
“Excuse me?” Jack asked dubiously. “You ‘saw’ tonight?” he exchanged a long pointed look with Samantha and Daniel.
“Great,” Sam muttered so only Dean could hear. “As if he didn’t already find us hard to believe.”
“Not much we can do about that,” Dean said, motioning Sam to move towards the door. There wasn’t much point in them remaining in the elevator.
“Was that a seizure?” Captain Carter asked, expression showing concern.
“No,” Sam told her quickly, straightening up to his full height. “Can we just forget about it for now?” his tone was more than a little pleading.
Jack didn’t appear like he was ready to drop the subject at all but Carter stepped up beside him, “Sir, the General is waiting.”
“Right,” he drawled, continuing to stare at Sam as though seeing him for the first time.
Dean followed Sam out of the elevator, keeping a careful eye on his brother; it didn’t matter to Dean that this wasn’t Sam’s first vision, nothing was going to make this okay. There was no denying the visions scared the hell out of him. There was no controlling them and that wasn’t even taking into account that the visions meant there was something ‘different’ about Sam. He tried not to consider the implications but Gordon Walker had made it all too clear for him.
Some hunters were going to view his brother as something evil that needed to be hunted.
Dean forced the thought away; he wasn’t going to let that happen. John had given him a job and he intended to do it. He cast a quick glance at Sam’s face, relieved to see some of the color had returned to the younger man’s features.
The General was waiting for them in the briefing room, seated at the head of the table exactly where Dean had seen him only hours before. Teal’c stood off to one side, expression blank, hands clasped behind his back.
“Colonel?” Hammond questioned, as soon as Jack approached. “What can you tell me?”
“Well, General,” O’Neill returned briskly, “there’s been no further signs of the creature on base. Not that we’d be able to fight it, according to Sam,” he thrust in thumb in the younger hunter’s direction.
“Is that so?” the General sounded less than convinced.
“I’m only aware of one weapon that can kill a demon outright and it’s not military issue,” Dean tossed out. He hated to think of the colt and what it cost his family but there was no denying it would have made their lives a lot easier if they could figure out how it worked.
Hammond looked back to Jack. “What else?”
“Daniel seems to think some of what the Winchesters have been saying checks out, isn’t that right?” he asked, looking to the archeologist.
“True,” Daniel agreed, casting a brief glance towards Sam and Dean, his blue eyes lingering on the younger for a second longer. “At the very least they’ve put far too much effort into it if it weren’t.”
The General gestured that everyone should take their seats. “What do we know about the creature?”
“Demon,” Dean said gruffly, putting himself between Sam and the rest of the room as he took a seat across from Daniel. His brother’s expression had been distant since they’d come into the briefing room, no doubt replaying his vision again and again.
“How do we stop it?” Hammond asked; to his credit he was looking directly at Dean. “Will it attack again?”
Dean turned his chair slightly, forcing himself for the moment to stop fussing with the strap of the sling. “I can’t say whether it will attack again or not,” he told them honestly.
“Sir, I believe we’ve discovered the link between all the victims,” Captain Carter spoke up, leaning her folded hands on the tabletop. “And if we’re right the attack on the Winchesters was an anomaly most likely brought on when they attacked the ‘creature’ the other night.”
“And what is it?”
“Well sir,” Samantha continued quickly, “all the victims shared a Native American background whether it was pure, one parent being a direct descendent of a tribe, or far more diluted, as thin a link as one-sixteenth.”
Dean turned to regard his brother who was looking towards the head of the table but didn’t appear to be seeing it. “What did you see?” he asked again, keeping his voice low.
“Two women, running from the demon,” Sam replied just as quietly.
“And you think this is going to happen tonight?” he pressed. The time between Sam’s visions and the actual event was never fixed; the last few had basically happened on top of each other. Dean knew that upset Sam more than having to witness the gruesome deaths. What was the point of it all if he couldn’t at least try and stop it?
Sam’s hands flexed on the surface of the table. “It was dark out.” He closed his eyes for a moment clearly trying to remember. “I saw the street sign.” His eyes flashed open.
“Well why now?” That question had been sounding at the back of Dean’s mind since the vision had started. Nothing they’d seen so far even remotely pointed towards the Yellow Eyed Demon having anything to do with these demonic attacks. And Sam’s visions had never happened without being related to Yellow Eyes. Dean told himself they had to be missing something; he didn’t like the thought that Sam’s powers were branching out.
Sam shook his head. “She spoke to me, Dean.”
“What, the girl?” He had to fight to keep the conversation between them, his surprise almost getting the better of him.
“Her name’s Chloe,” Sam told him pointedly.
“Okay,” he whispered, “what do you mean spoke to you?”
The younger Winchester shrugged his shoulders, appearing at a loss for words. “I got the feeling she knew I was there watching…” he trailed off helplessly. “I think she might be one of the psychic children,” Sam muttered, looking down at his hands.
“I’m sorry,” Daniel spoke up, one finger raised and pointing towards Sam. “Did you just say psychic?”
Dean sighed as the conversation at the other end of the table came to an abrupt halt and all eyes turned to them. “Doubt there’s a way to phrase this that Jack will accept…” he hissed at Sam.
“I think I know who the next victim will be,” Sam said honestly.
“How?” the General asked bluntly.
“Can we skip all that? Just go with a gut feeling?” Dean tried waving away the other question; he knew it was a long shot at best.
Jack wasn’t about to disappoint. “Do I look like someone who subscribes to blind faith?” he asked incredulously.
Dean smirked, completely unimpressed but not in the least bit surprised. “No.”
“So, care to try again?” the Colonel drawled, heavy gaze remaining fixed on the two of them.
“Are we just going to sit here and do nothing?” Sam demanded suddenly, the heat in his voice surprising Dean a little. “She is going to die, unless we stop it! And there’s still time!”
“Son, who’s going to die?” Hammond asked, appearing at a glance to be genuinely concerned.
Sam shook his head, frustration rolling off him. “Her name’s Chloe, she lives in town on Pine Street or something.”
“And you saw this?” Daniel asked, absently adjusting his glasses. “In what? A vision?”
“Would you believe me if I said yes?” Sam demanded bluntly.
“No,” Jack returned lightly.
The younger Winchester slammed his palms against the table pushing his chair back sharply.
“Hey,” Dean said softly, reaching across his body to grip Sam’s arm with his left hand. “There’s still time,” he assured.
“General Hammond,” Teal’c deep resonating voice was something of a surprise to Dean, the Jaffa spoke so rarely. “I believe Sam Winchester speaks the truth.”
All eyes were on Teal’c now; he sat stoically, hands folded calmly in front of him.
“Oh you do?” Jack was the first to speak up skeptically. “You believe he’s psychic?”
Teal’c raised one eyebrow. “I believe Sam Winchester believes it is so.”
“You believe you’re psychic?” Jack demanded, leaning one arm against the table as he swiveled his chair to face Sam. “What number am I thinking of?” he asked, pointing a finger towards his temple.
Sam groaned dropping his head into the palm of his right hand. “I can’t read minds,” he stressed angrily.
“Then in what way are you a psychic?” Daniel asked, sounding more curious than condescending.
Dean turned his full attention to Sam, silently indicating that he was leaving this entirely in his brother’s hands. He’d berated Sam once for confiding in Ellen but, unlike at the Roadhouse where the hunters might view Sam as prey, all they had to face here was Jack’s skepticism.
Sam was silent for several minutes, perhaps weighing his options though Dean didn’t see that they had all that many. “About a year ago, I started getting these…visions,” he swallowed hard. “Of people’s deaths,” he said finally, voice bitter.
“And you believe they’re real?” Captain Carter asked, sounding confused more than anything.
“Saginaw, Michigan,” Sam stated bluntly, his expression becoming guarded but Dean still recognized the hurt his brother was feeling at the memories, “February 7th, 2006: Jim Miller, Roger Miller, Max Miller. Guthrie, Oklahoma, October 27th, 2006: Dr. Jennings, Holly Beckett, Ansem Weems.”
“Sam…” Dean spoke his name quietly, not at all surprised Sam was keeping a running list of the people he’d ‘failed’ to save. He didn’t think either Max or Ansem’s names should have been on that list but wasn’t shocked that Sam thought he was responsible.
“They’re all dead,” Sam ground out bitterly. “After I watched it happen.”
“You saw it happen?” Daniel asked, blue gaze intense. “But you weren’t able to stop it from happening?”
Dean shot the archeologist a glare. “No surprises people don’t like to take advice from strangers.”
“I don’t always get so much warning before the attack is going to happen,” Sam explained pointedly, his attention honing in on General Hammond. “Would it kill you to at least look into it?” he asked and Dean wished his brother didn’t sound so desperate but he understood all too well.
All eyes turned to General Hammond, who was watching Sam intently. “Captain Carter, track down this girl,” he instructed suddenly.
“Sir,” she replied sharply, pushing back her chair.
“She’s twenty-three years old, if that helps any,” Sam was quick to offer.
“General, you’re actually taking this seriously?” Jack scoffed, also pushing his chair away from the table.
“As Sam said, there’s no harm in looking into this,” Hammond answered calmly. “For the moment though I’d like Dr. Fraiser to take a look at you,” he said looking pointedly at Sam.
Dean stiffened in his seat, “What are you expecting to find?” he demanded angrily.
“Dude,” Sam said quietly. “It’s okay, whatever it takes to save Chloe.”
“Fine, but you’re no one’s lab rat,” he muttered rather loudly.
“Teal’c would you accompany them to the infirmary,” the General ordered as he got to his feet.
The Jaffa nodded his head as he got up from his chair. “Come, Dean and Sam Winchester,” he said formally, stopping near the end of the table.
Dean looked at Sam with a raised eyebrow before following Teal’c from the room. It wasn’t often that Dean was made to feel short but standing between his brother and the Jaffa he could forget for a moment that he was above average in height as well.
---SPN/SG-1---
“I understand. Thank you, Doctor,” Hammond spoke into his phone as Jack stepping into the office.
“General, I’m really beginning to think these kids have a couple of screws loose,” Jack said once the General had hung up the phone.
“I’ll admit I find visions of the future a little hard to swallow,” the General agreed, taking a seat behind his desk. “However he did seem genuinely concerned for this girl’s safety.”
“Or sending us running in a different direction,” Jack groused as he glanced out the window to the briefing room.
“So if this ‘demon’ turned out to be some form of alien, you’d be happier?”
Jack considered the question for a moment. “I know aliens exist; if there is an afterlife this isn’t the one I’d have voted for.” The Colonel shook his head, “Ghosts, demons, next thing they’re going to tell me zombies are real.”
“And if they are?” Hammond asked, clearly content to continue playing devil’s advocate.
“Sir, I face what I can see. Not generally what people tell me they’ve seen,” he replied bluntly.
Hammond rested his right hand on the surface of his desk, looking Jack directly in the eye. “Well, you’ve at least seen one of these demons,” the General pointed out.
“Yeah,” the word was clipped as Jack took a seat on the edge of a chair. “Sir, we had enough to worry about with the Gou’ald before Daniel opened this can of worms.” Jack felt an almost uncontrollable urge to cuff the archeologist across the back of the head next time he saw him.
“What would you suggest?”
“I don’t suppose dropping them in some out of the way corner of the world is an option,” Jack joked, though at times he was sorely tempted.
“No, I don’t think it is,” the General agreed with a rueful shake of his head.
Jack shook his head slowly, feeling a little bemused at the entire situation. “Should this even still be our problem?” he asked, changing the subject slightly. “It’s not like we don’t have enough to deal with already.”
“Who would you pass this off too?” Hammond asked. “The police? We may not be dealing with aliens but the local authorities are no better equipped to handle this than if we were.”
“So continue working with the Winchesters, at least until this demon is dead,” Jack clarified, moving to get up.
General Hammond nodded his head. “At least look into this girl. If she does in fact exist then we have an obligation to try and save her.”
“If she’s even at risk,” Jack couldn’t resist pointing out.
“Right,” Hammond agreed, waving him away.
Walking out of the General’s office, Jack made his way down the spiral stairs to the control room where her found Carter seated at a computer station, her attention divided between two screens. “What’d you got?” he asked, leaning his right arm across the top of one monitor.
Captain Carter glanced up with a tiny smile. “Age, first name, and street.” Sam shook her head, appearing a little frustrated. “It’s going to take me some time to track her down. But I did pull up the police reports on those victims Sam listed.”
“And?” he asked curiously.
“All but two of them are listed as suicides,” she replied, attention returning to the screen. “Of those two, Roger Miller was listed as a freak accident and Ansem Weems as self-defense.”
“None of that proves Sam had visions of the deaths before they happened.”
She nodded in agreement. “There’s no way to even prove he’s having visions of the future.” Captain Carter turned in her seat. “Logically speaking, the chances of that happening--”
Jack held up a hand to cut off Sam’s no doubt detailed explanation. “What’s this?” he asked instead, pointing towards the second monitor where a window was flashing.
“This,” Sam said, turning back to the screen, “ss a list of all the girls named Chloe born in 1983, just in the city of Cold Springs.”
“And if she wasn’t born here?” Jack asked with a crooked grin.
The Captain shuddered. “I did a nationwide search first. You don’t even want to know how many hits I received.” She began working her way though the list of names. “Sir, what are we supposed to do if we find this girl?”
“General Hammond wants us to look into it,” he replied with a shrug.
A sudden smile broke out on Sam’s face. “This could be the girl we’re looking for…” she said, sounding a little excited. “Chloe Lynn Cole, born August 10th,1983. The only child of Tyler and Lynn Cole, who live on 248 West Pine Street.”
“Alright,” Jack said straightening up. “That sounds like our girl.”
Sam nodded once. “This doesn’t prove that Sam Winchester has visions of the future,” she said adamantly.
“Dr. Fraiser’s looking into it but I don’t think she’ll find anything conclusive either,” Jack commented, pulling a hand through his short hair. Janet had already examined both Winchesters when they’d been brought in and hadn’t found anything unusual. “As for the girl, General Hammond wants us to look into it. So long as this creature is out there killing people, it’s our responsibility to stop it.”
“Yes, sir.”
---SPN/SG-1---
“Sam.”
Janet was waiting for them when they arrived, one hand patting the bed she stood beside. “General Hammond called,” she explained with a smile.
Sam moved somewhat reluctantly to take a seat in front of her, letting Janet take his wrist with her right hand. He wasn’t nearly as okay with this as he’d let on back in the briefing room. But he’d wanted to keep Dean from saying anything they’d both regret and if this is what it was going to take to save Chloe’s life he wasn’t going to refuse. Too many people had died in recent months for Sam to take any risks now.
“How’re you feeling?” she asked, reaching for the penlight in her coat pocket.
“Fine,” he replied, casting a quick glance towards Dean who had taken a seat on the opposite bed near where Teal’c quietly stood watching.
She reached up with her left hand to steady his head before swiping the light across his vision. “Can you describe how the vision manifests?”
Sam winced at the brightness but managed to keep his head still. “Sudden severe headache,” he replied with a shrug looking again to Dean. His brother was watching him like a hawk, the offensive sling resting beside him on the bed.
“Can you take off your over shirt?” she requested, slipping the light away before reaching for a blood pressure cuff.
He did as she asked, shrugging aside the button down shirt and allowing her to wrap the cuff around his right arm.
“Does this happen often?” she continued, watching her work.
“Not really,” he drew in a breath, trying to decide how much he actually wanted to say. “They started as vivid dreams.”
“I think you mean nightmares,” Dean corrected.
Sam rolled his eyes in response. “Whatever.”
Dr. Fraiser pulled the stethoscope from her ears and dropped one hand onto her hip. “I’m not sure what to say,” she admitted, after a brief silence. “Your blood pressure’s on the high side of normal but still normal. I took another look at your MRI after we didn’t find the Gou’ald but everything looks normal there too. And your blood tests are all coming back clean,” she shrugged, offering him an encouraging smile. “Far as I can tell you’re completely healthy.”
“Dr. Fraiser,” Teal’c spoke up suddenly. “You have no explanation for Sam Winchester’s visions?”
“There’s just so much about the brain we still haven’t figured out,” she replied somewhat helplessly.
“So you at least believe it’s possible,” Dean said, stating it as fact rather than a question.
Janet smiled. “If there’s one thing I’ve learned in this job, it’s anything’s possible.”
“Don’t suppose you have any way of convincing Jack,” Sam muttered reaching for his shirt.
---SPN/SG-1---
“What exactly do you plan on telling her?” Carter asked curiously.
Jack glanced briefly away from the road to his passenger. “I haven’t thought that far ahead,” he admitted with a sigh.
“Perhaps we should have asked the Winchesters, this would have been their next step,” she said.
“We’re only going there to confirm that Chloe Cole actually still lives there,” he said, turning onto the winding road that was West Pine Street.
Sam leaned her arm against the window. “We should probably ask if she’s ever heard of Sam and Dean Winchester as well. They might not expect us to actually speak to this girl.”
The Colonel nodded in agreement: that would at least be one answer to what had happened today, an answer he’d be much happier swallowing.
“What the hell?” he muttered when a bend in the road revealed a police barricade across the width of the street.
“Could the attack have already happened?” Captain Carter asked dubiously.
Jack shook his head. “The house is about another quarter mile up the road, police wouldn’t block off that much.” He threw the car into park and got out.
Local residence milled about the edge of the parameter, creating a low buzz on confusion. Jack strode up to the roadblock without stopping, Sam following to his left. A young officer stepped away from his control car and came quickly to meet them.
“I’m sorry sir, the road’s closed,” he explained, sounding as though he’d said it far too many times already.
“I’m Colonel Jack O’Neill,” he introduced, extending his hand to the flustered officer. “Can you tell me what’s going on?”
“Officer Jones,” he said in reply. “We believe there’s a gas leak about a quarter mile up the road.”
Jack felt a sinking sensation in his gut, he recognized all to well. “That wouldn’t be 248, would it?” he guessed, sharing a quick glance with Sam.
Jones blinked in surprise. “How’d you know?”
“Call it a lucky guess,” Jack brushed the matter aside quickly. “What about the family?”
The officer looked a little less sure about answering that question, which told Jack something as well.
“Can you at least tell me if Chloe’s alright?” he tried again, adding a good deal of worry to his voice. “She’s my goddaughter.”
The man’s expression became less guarded and he offered Jack a sympathetic smile. “I’m sorry sir, right now she’s missing and possibly our prime suspect.”
Carter took a step closer the officer. “Do you know what alerted them to the gas leak?”
“Yes, ma’am,” he said with an emphatic nod. “I was among the first responders, place reeked of rotten eggs.”
Thanks for reading, I hope you enjoyed!
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