Fic: Grey Ghost(7/7)
Fic: Grey Ghost(7/7)
Series: Special Projects
Summary: A drowning in a dry swimming pool draw the crew to Long Beach. Did we mention that the pool was on a haunted cruise ship?
Author: pen37
Beta: Clarksmuse
Fandoms: Smallville/Supernatural
Characters: Chloe, Sam, Dean
Pairing:Chloe/Dean
Rating: pg-13
This is a part of the Special Projects series. You can find the rest of the series here.
A/N: Happy birthday to everyone out there who have had birthdays recently. You know who you are. :)
Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7
People often get the wrong idea about falling into water. When you fall twelve stories into water, it feels almost as painful as if you fell twelve stories into concrete.
And then you sink.
When Dean hit the water, he shook off the stunned lassitude and looked for Chloe. He spotted her, lying on the bottom of the sandy bay. Her body looking frighteningly broken and her hair spread out around her head like a golden halo.
With powerful strokes, he swam to the bottom of the bay, gathered Chloe into his arms, and then propelled himself back toward the surface and the sea wall. He pushed her still body up onto the wall, and then slid after her like a trained seal.
“Come on, Chloe.” he whispered as he rolled her onto her side to clear the water from her lungs. “Come back to me.” Then he turned her onto her back, and began CPR.
The longer Dean worked on Chloe's still body, the more frantic he became. He couldn't lose her. Especially not now that she promised to be his. “Don't you dare leave me, Chloe,” he whispered in between forcing air into her lungs. “Don't you dare, you hear me? You come back to me, or I'm going to march up to heaven and drag your ass back here.”
Suddenly, Chloe's eyes popped open. She leaned over, and began coughing and spitting up seawater.
He pulled her up against him, and ran caressing circles over her back, where the faintest green glow told him that her body was already on the mend.
“How'd we get down here?” she asked when her coughing fit subsided.
“Long story,” he said. “I think maybe the ghost bitch picked you out as the next victim.”
“Why?” Chloe asked. “I'm not an orphan.”
“Maybe it's more that your mom left you,” he said.
Before Chloe could respond, a flash of white in the distance caught his eye. Dean turned his head, and then sat up straighter as a woman in a torn and soaked, forties-era white dress came walking across the breakers toward them.
She looked at them with dead eyes.
“I'm sorry,” the spirit said. Then she reached for them with clawed hands.
Dean wrapped one arm around Chloe to keep her close, and crab crawled backward as the spirit stretched her hands out. Judging by the look on her face, Chloe wasn't the only one she'd come for this time.
But before she could touch them, the welcome sound of a shotgun blast reported out across the bay. The ghost scattered like fine mist in a wind, and Dean looked up to see Sam walking over the sea wall toward them at a ground-devouring pace.
“How'd you know?” Dean asked.
“Saw the two of you go over the side,” Sam said shortly. He tossed the gun to Dean, and then pulled out a book.
“What are you doing?” Chloe asked.
But Sam waved off her question as he started the litany of a ritual. He finished just as the spirit tried to materialize again. By now Dean and Chloe had gotten to their feet, and stood shoulder to shoulder with Sam. Dean sighed down the barrel of the gun. But before he could pull the trigger, the cry of a child drew all their attention.
The ghost seemed to grow paler, if that were possible, and drew back from the cry. But before she could flee, a smaller spirit seemed to crawl up from the ocean, and wrap itself around her.
“What did you do?” Chloe asked .
“She's a woman in white,” Sam said. “I just called to the spirit of her child.”
“I'm sorry,” the spirit whispered again. Then she rent the air with a bloodcurdling screech. The smaller spirit cried again as it wound around her and seemed to crush her into mist. Then the spirits entwined, and dissipated into the night air.
“It's over?” Chloe rasped out.
“Yeah, it's over.” Sam confirmed.
“Then we'd better get out of here,” Dean said. “Before someone comes looking to investigate that gunshot.”
* * *
Sam poured Dean and single-malt whiskey and then one for himself. He passed his brother's glass to him and then the two of them raised their drinks in toast.
“Can't believe you're getting married,” Sam said with a grin. “Back in college, I always thought . . .” he trailed off. His eyes took on a distant, thoughtful look as he sipped from his glass.
“Well, you gotta grow up sometime, Sammy.” Dean said.
Sam's eyes focused back on Dean. “Just hard to imagine you with a wife. Even if it is Chloe.”
Dean looked down, and smiled. “So I been meaning to ask you why you pushed so hard for this.”
Sam shrugged.
“Hey,” he smiled as a look of fond recollection crossed his face. “Remember just before we all went after the demon? How dad wished that you could've had a family?”
Dean cleared his throat. “Yeah?”
“I think he would have been proud of you.”
Dean nodded at that. “I had a dream about him a few times,” he said. “Back in Branson. Just after we were in those comas. “
“Yeah?” Sam said. “What did he say?”
“Same old stuff. Look after Sam. Protect the family,” Dean sat his tumbler down, and rubbed the back of his head. “But he also said that he liked Chloe.”
“He would have,” Sam nodded. “She keeps you on your toes.”
Dean nodded at that. Then he pulled back the sleeve of his tuxedo shirt, and looked at his watch. “How long does it take for one woman to get dressed?” he frowned.
Just then the door opened, and Chloe stepped through. “Keep your shirt on, James Bond. I'm coming.”
Dean turned, and a silly grin crossed his face. She was wearing a long, silky, off white slip dress, and carrying a bouquet of white tulips. Her short hair was threaded through with baby's breath.
“Wow.” he said softly.
“Wow yourself,” she grinned as she looked him up and down in approval.
“Any chance we could skip the ceremony and get straight to the honeymoon?”
“Zero,” Chloe shook her head. “Especially since I went through all the trouble of finding a priest who wasn't going to make us wait three months to take marriage counseling.”
“We could have just gone to a JP and gotten this over with.” Dean crossed his arms.
“Fat chance Dean,” Chloe said. “I may be lapsed, but I'm still going to do this like a good Catholic girl. Just be glad that this is going to be a quick little ceremony, and not one of those days-long things.”
Dean nodded. “So - I didn't get you one of those crown-rings.” He pulled a tiny silver band out of his pocket, and held it out for her to inspect. “Sam insisted that we get ones that matched. He's got mine.”
Chloe took his hands, and looked over the slender silver band, which was worked over with knotwork in a pattern similar to the protection ring that circled her thumb.
“How did you --?”
“I traced out the pattern while you were asleep,” Dean said. “I had to get a little sneaky.”
“It's beautiful,” she grinned up at him.
Dean looked down modestly. His broad smile crinkled the corners of his eyes. “Let's get this show on the road,” he said. “My face is hurting from smiling this much.”
She looked over to Sam. “You ready?”
Sam grinned, and held out his arm to her. “Can't believe I'm giving you away to my own brother.”
“Well, we're a little limited on wedding party. Particularly since we're technically eloping. Think you can handle this, and be the best man and maid of honor?”
“We should have got him a matching dress,” Dean said with a grin as he followed Sam and Chloe from the room.
“You. Shut it.” Chloe turned and pointed at him.
“Yes dear,” he sighed.
* * *
To the manager of the hotel Queen Mary, the three people who stood on the bow of the ship were carrying on like ten-year-olds, rather than a wedding party. The groom was chasing the bride in and out of the lifeboats, while the best man snapped photos of the whole thing with a cheap plastic camera.
While it seemed a little odd for a wedding of only three people, the three of them seemed to have none of the wedding-day nervousness that he saw with most wedding parties.
Then the bride climbed up on the rail of the ship. Her white slip dress billowed out like a sail in the salty breeze.
At first, he was concerned that she was about to take a swan dive into the drink. But then the groom hooked an arm around her middle,and hauled her back against him.
“If you fall in, I'm not diving in to save you this time,” the groom's voice echoed across the teak decking.
“I promised my dad I would do this,” came the bride's strident voice.
“Fine. But this is the corniest thing you've ever done.”
With a laugh, the bride leaned into an imaginary wind, and stuck her arms out like Kate Winslet in Titanic. “I'm flying!” she yelled out.
With an indulgent smile, the manager turned away. Just another happy ending aboard the Queen Mary.
* * *
When Dean finally convinced Chloe to climb down off of the railing of the ship, the three of them headed back toward the Prominade Cafe.
“So how soon can we get out of these monkey suits?” Dean grumbled as he tugged at his collar.
“Let me enjoy seeing you in a tux for just a little longer,” Chloe said as she leaned her head against his shoulder. “I don't know when I'll get the chance to see this again.”
“How about never?” Dean grumbled.
“I think you look like John Steed,” she said. “Minus the bowler hat and umbrella, of course.”
“Really?” Dean quirked an eyebrow at that. Then he grinned at her. “Does that mean you're Emma Peel?”
Sam coughed at that. “You know, I did get you guys your own room for a reason.”
“And we'll get there eventually, Sammy.” Dean said as he ushered her into the diner, where the three of them had arranged for lunch.
Just as they were sliding into the booth, a familiar voice had them all looking up.
“Well, what do we have here?” Ed Zeddmore walked up, camcorder in hand.
“Looks like someone got married, and didn't tell us,” Harry Spengler said.
“Hi guys,” Chloe looked at them and smiled.
“You know, you guys kind of vanished on us after that second person dropped dead,” Zeddmore said.
Dean and Sam looked at each other, and grinned. “Well, we didn't find much,” Dean shrugged. “This one was a real bust.”
“That's okay, my friend.” Spengler said. “We’ve been in talks with our agent, and Twentieth Century Fox. And things are looking promising. If all goes well, we may option the rights to the story.”
“Really?” Sam pursed his lips in an amused smile. “The drownings? The woman in white?”
“All of it,” Zeddmore said. “The whole burrito, my friend. According to my agent, Fox looooved the idea of two ghost-hunting brothers, rolling around the country in an old hot-rod. It's very Jack Kerouac meets Toby Hooper.”
“We may even call the thing, Paranormal.” Spengler held up his hands, as if picturing a marquee. “Rumor is, David Duchovney would love to play the Dean character.”
Sam and Dean winced at each other. Then Dean looked over at Chloe. “What about her? Who's playing Chloe's character?”
Zeddmore and Spengler looked at each other, and then looked apologetically at Chloe. “Fox wasn't so hip on the idea of a female hunter. They're more interested in the story about the brothers.”
Chloe frowned. Then she shrugged it off, and pretended to study her menu. “Oh Really? So I'm not in it at all?” She said in a way that almost had them convinced that she wasn't interested.
The two Hellhounds looked at each other, and then winced again.
“Actually, your character is there. In a way,” Zeddmore said.
“Really?” She raised an eyebrow.
“Yeah,” Zeddmore shrugged. “The boys have a pet monkey named Rosie.”
“A monkey?” The menu slipped from her nerveless fingers.
“More of a chimp,” Zeddmore said.
Spengler looked at Chloe's incredulous face, and then at his menu. “Oh would you look at the time?” he said. Then he hooked an arm around Zeddmore. “We really should be going. Places to do, People to see. Sam, Dean? Love 'ya. Mean it.”
With that, the two Hellhounds rushed from the Promenade cafe.
Sam and Dean turned to look at Chloe's stunned expression.
“Chloe?” Sam asked.
“I'm a monkey.”
“Darlin', it's okay.” Dean patted her shoulder.
“Named Rosie.”
Sam looked up at Dean. “Maybe you should skip lunch.”
“Yeah,” Dean nodded. “Maybe. She looks like she could use a distraction.”
“I eat bananas.”
Dean patted her shoulder. “That's okay Darlin'. If you want, we can go put green slime in their beds.”
“Promise?” She looked at him with hopeful eyes and an evil grin.
“Consider it a wedding gift.”