Fic: Soul Sacrifice (1/8)
A/N: After thursday's season finalie of Supernatural, and Friday's season finalie (I won't say series finalie. I refuse to believe it.) of Moonlight, I need something to make me happy. So here's the next update in the Special Projects Series.
Fic: Soul Sacrifice (1/8)
Series: Special Projects
Summary: Dean and Chloe just fought their way free of a mesoamerican cult in Texas. Now the Winchester Family and the Justice League are headed to Mexico City to finish the hunt.
Author: pen37
Beta: Strangevisitor7
Fandoms: Smallville/Supernatural
Characters: Chloe, Sam, Dean, Sarah
Pairing:Chloe/Dean Sam/Sarah
Rating: NC-17 for Chlean smut.
This is a part of the Special Projects series. You can find the rest of the series here.
Ch 1, Ch 2, Ch 3, Ch 4, Ch 5, Ch 6, Ch 7, Ch 8
Chloe awoke to the feel of being cocooned in warmth and softness and safety. She knew this feeling. It was how she awoke every morning: cradled next to her husband. Laying like spoons in a drawer. He had taken his usual protective position on the side nearest to the door and almost on-top of her;one hand around her waist, and the other up under his pillow where some weapon was no doubt hidden.
Her last memory had been of being held by the back of the neck by Daniel Mackenzie --someone she'd considered a friend -- while he forced her powers to work against her.
The experience had been painful to say the least. Every muscle in her body had contracted to the utmost limit. The agony had been made so much worse because she couldn't even scream around a jaw that had locked shut.
But she'd either come through things fine, or she was dead. Because the feel of lying in bed next to Dean was the closest to heaven that she could conceive of right now.
She turned over - to find that Dean had been watching her as she slept. Wordlessly, she looked into his hazel eyes. His expression softened into one of tenderness, and he reached up to stroke her blonde hair out of her face. She squinted at him in confusion. There was something different about him. She couldn't quite figure out what, though.
“Morning,” he whispered to her.
“Am I in Heaven?” she whispered back.
“Not yet,” he leaned over and placed a gentle kiss on her lips. “But I can take care of that.”
Her lips slanted under his gentle assault, and when his arm wrapped around her and turned her bodily into him, she slid her palm against his chest. It rested gently over his heart. Just over the inked symbol that permanently safeguarded him against possession. His heartbeat under her hands was a firm reminder that they were safe and alive.
“What happened?” she asked when they both came up for air.
“We survived,” he said between kisses that trailed down her jawline.
“Seems like a good habit to have.” She wanted to know what was going on, but Dean's hands roving over her body seemed to drive every thought from her head. She knew that they'd both come close to dying. Having him touch her this way helped to remind her what living was all about.
When he'd taken her to bed that night, Dean had obviously stripped her down to her underwear. Now he easily divested her of that. His own quickly followed and before long he lay on top of her, limbs entwined with hers, hands touching her everywhere, inflaming her desire.
He rolled away briefly to get his wallet from the nightstand and find a condom and then returned to settle between her thighs. Then she wrapped her legs around him and pulled him inside her.
As she placed kisses against his freckled cheeks, she tasted salt there. She pulled back to look into his face with a concerned expression.
Dean bit his lip, and then pressed his forehead into her temple. “They tried to take you from me,” he whispered to her.
In response, she stroked the prickly side of his stubble-covered face. The hair had lengthened into the beginnings of a soft beard that tickled at her palms and scratched at her cheeks when he kissed her. “But they couldn't,” she whispered back to him. “You stopped them.”
“I didn't,” he said in quiet denial. “It wasn't me.”
“Yes it was,” she pulled back and smiled up at him. “It's always you, Dean. No matter what, you always save me.”
He nodded in simple acknowledgment of her words. Then he began to move within her slowly.
Chloe felt tension and desire coil within her like a slowly-tightening spring. She threw her head back, and automatically Dean leaned forward to suckle a pulse point on her neck.
“I won't let anyone take what's mine,” his breath ghosted over her skin as he whispered a silent vow to her.
“Possessive much?” she lifted her head again to grin at him.
“You know it,” He grinned at her as he moved one sure hand to the base of her spine, and lifted her to grind against him. “You belong to me, Chloe. You promised me that. I protect what's mine.”
His words sent her higher. She arched her back, meeting each thrust halfway until it seemed like her world exploded with the intensity of his touch. He whispered her name like a prayer as she pulled him over the edge with her.
When at last their breathing returned to normal, she reached for his chin, and tilted it up; a motion that forced him to look into her eyes.
“Chloe,” he said reverently.
“Not that I don't appreciate the attention,” she said smiling up at him,”But I need to know what happened.”
He nodded once, and then rolled onto his back. She followed, and rested on his shoulder. “What do you remember?”
She frowned as she recalled the pain - and what led up to it. “Mac did something.”
Anger flashed in Dean's eyes, but was quickly masked. “I'll say. He pushed your powers to the point that you dropped from exhaustion.”
Chloe considered that. Mac's abilities allowed him to manipulate one person's powers and give them to another. “Why would he need to push them so hard?” She asked.
“Whatever he did, you healed everyone in that room.” It was then that Chloe realized what had been bothering her about Dean. Every scar he'd ever had was gone. She sat up, and touched his forehead, his chin, the shoulder that had been repeatedly burned and shot, his side where the kelpie had gotten him. Even the puckered brand that Meg had placed on his forearm was gone.
Chloe touched the tattoo again, and realized that it had faded.
“I'm going to have to get that touched up,” Dean said with a rueful smile.
“Are you still --”
“Still a Dhampier,” Dean nodded in confirmation. “I think your blood changed me about as much as you could when you gave me the transfusion.” Dean said with a dismissive shrug. “I am what I am.”
Chloe responded with a tender smile. “I love you no matter what you are. You're mine, too.”
He pulled her to him and placed another kiss on her lips in response, before getting back to business.
“Anyway, when Mac used you to heal everyone - it killed every demon that came near you.”
Chloe stared at him incredulously. “What?”
Dean nodded. “The one I was fighting - it just collapsed. Like it was having a seizure or something. And then it died. And it took its human host with it.”
“That's not,” Chloe shook her head in mute horror. “That's not possible. My abilities don't work that way. They heal. They don't kill.”
Dean looked up at her in sympathy. As long as he'd known Chloe, she had been uneasy about her powers. It was the consequence of spending too much time in Smallville, where most of the meteor mutants were crazy, dangerous or both. On top of all that, she'd spent a long time knowing that she'd been mutated before she actually showed any powers. During all that time, she'd been afraid of becoming catatonic thanks to her abilities, just like her mother had.
Now, just when it seemed that she was getting over those feelings, they discovered a new and deadly application for the healing abilities.
It was one thing to kill a demon. He wouldn't shed a tear over that. But the fact that the human host died as well would haunt Chloe. Even if she hadn't made the conscious choice to kill them herself.
“You want to know what I think?” Dean asked. Despite his own exhaustion, he'd been awake most of the night, turning the events over in his head. And while he wasn't a great thinker like Sam or Chloe, he finally worked things out to his own satisfaction.
“Always,” Chloe nodded. Her eyes looked serious and haunted. No matter what, Dean wanted to take that burden off her shoulders.
“I think that this may be why the demons were so scared of you. Maybe they were scared of what your powers do.”
“But why?” Chloe said. “Demon's aren't like a virus. Possession isn't like infection.”
“I'm not so sure,” Dean said mildly. “Dad had a theory. You know the Roanoke Colony?”
“Fourth Grade American History,” Chloe said.
“Shot heard round the world, how bills become laws,” Dean nodded in confirmation.
“Isn't that School House Rock?” Chloe asked.
“Whatever,” Dean frowned. “Anyhoo. Dad believed that the colony was wiped out by a demonic virus. We encountered something similar a couple years back in Oregon. I'm thinking that if possession is viral then maybe if a person had a strong healing ability, they could possibly wipe the demon out. Not just send it back to hell, but annihilate it: like what the Colt did. Death for demons.”
“Which might explain why Meg didn't even try to posses me when she grabbed us that one time,” Chloe said. “Would've been nice to know before I tracked down all that information on anti-possession charms.”
“Still keeps you safe from other stuff,” Dean ruffled her hair as he spoke.
She nodded in response. “Witches and ghosts and kryptofreaks, oh my.” Then her eyes dropped. “I killed those people,” She whispered softly.
“No,” Dean forced her to look at him. “Darlin', don't say that.”
“It's true though,” she looked at him in anguish. “They're dead because of me.”
“Chloe, if they could, they'd probably thank you. How do you think they'd feel about knowing what the demons used them to do? Killing children and flaying people's skin off and wearing it? They would have remembered doing all that fucked up shit. You think they'd want to remember being used that way?”
“Not any more than I want to remember what Mac did,” She said bitterly.
“Darlin',” Dean caressed her face. “If anyone deserves blame in all this, it's him. He's the one who delivered us right into that cult's hands. I bet he set this up from the start to take them out.”
Chloe looked unsure, so he pressed his case further. “He's the one who can clone powers. And he's the one who pushed you that far. You were just a weapon in all of this.”
She shut her eyes against the tears that threatened to fall, and nodded at him. “I want to talk to him.”
“Hell no,” Dean said. “I don't want him near you again.”
“Dean,” Chloe opened her misty eyes, and tilted her head to look at him imploringly. “Please. He betrayed us. Used us. I have to be able to reconcile that with the man that I thought was my friend.”
He frowned and slowly nodded. “I understand,” He said quietly. “But I'm coming with you. And if that bastard tries something, I'm going to tear him apart.”
Chloe nodded in agreement. “Okay,” she said quietly.
Fic: Soul Sacrifice (1/8)
Series: Special Projects
Summary: Dean and Chloe just fought their way free of a mesoamerican cult in Texas. Now the Winchester Family and the Justice League are headed to Mexico City to finish the hunt.
Author: pen37
Beta: Strangevisitor7
Fandoms: Smallville/Supernatural
Characters: Chloe, Sam, Dean, Sarah
Pairing:Chloe/Dean Sam/Sarah
Rating: NC-17 for Chlean smut.
This is a part of the Special Projects series. You can find the rest of the series here.
Ch 1, Ch 2, Ch 3, Ch 4, Ch 5, Ch 6, Ch 7, Ch 8
Chloe awoke to the feel of being cocooned in warmth and softness and safety. She knew this feeling. It was how she awoke every morning: cradled next to her husband. Laying like spoons in a drawer. He had taken his usual protective position on the side nearest to the door and almost on-top of her;one hand around her waist, and the other up under his pillow where some weapon was no doubt hidden.
Her last memory had been of being held by the back of the neck by Daniel Mackenzie --someone she'd considered a friend -- while he forced her powers to work against her.
The experience had been painful to say the least. Every muscle in her body had contracted to the utmost limit. The agony had been made so much worse because she couldn't even scream around a jaw that had locked shut.
But she'd either come through things fine, or she was dead. Because the feel of lying in bed next to Dean was the closest to heaven that she could conceive of right now.
She turned over - to find that Dean had been watching her as she slept. Wordlessly, she looked into his hazel eyes. His expression softened into one of tenderness, and he reached up to stroke her blonde hair out of her face. She squinted at him in confusion. There was something different about him. She couldn't quite figure out what, though.
“Morning,” he whispered to her.
“Am I in Heaven?” she whispered back.
“Not yet,” he leaned over and placed a gentle kiss on her lips. “But I can take care of that.”
Her lips slanted under his gentle assault, and when his arm wrapped around her and turned her bodily into him, she slid her palm against his chest. It rested gently over his heart. Just over the inked symbol that permanently safeguarded him against possession. His heartbeat under her hands was a firm reminder that they were safe and alive.
“What happened?” she asked when they both came up for air.
“We survived,” he said between kisses that trailed down her jawline.
“Seems like a good habit to have.” She wanted to know what was going on, but Dean's hands roving over her body seemed to drive every thought from her head. She knew that they'd both come close to dying. Having him touch her this way helped to remind her what living was all about.
When he'd taken her to bed that night, Dean had obviously stripped her down to her underwear. Now he easily divested her of that. His own quickly followed and before long he lay on top of her, limbs entwined with hers, hands touching her everywhere, inflaming her desire.
He rolled away briefly to get his wallet from the nightstand and find a condom and then returned to settle between her thighs. Then she wrapped her legs around him and pulled him inside her.
As she placed kisses against his freckled cheeks, she tasted salt there. She pulled back to look into his face with a concerned expression.
Dean bit his lip, and then pressed his forehead into her temple. “They tried to take you from me,” he whispered to her.
In response, she stroked the prickly side of his stubble-covered face. The hair had lengthened into the beginnings of a soft beard that tickled at her palms and scratched at her cheeks when he kissed her. “But they couldn't,” she whispered back to him. “You stopped them.”
“I didn't,” he said in quiet denial. “It wasn't me.”
“Yes it was,” she pulled back and smiled up at him. “It's always you, Dean. No matter what, you always save me.”
He nodded in simple acknowledgment of her words. Then he began to move within her slowly.
Chloe felt tension and desire coil within her like a slowly-tightening spring. She threw her head back, and automatically Dean leaned forward to suckle a pulse point on her neck.
“I won't let anyone take what's mine,” his breath ghosted over her skin as he whispered a silent vow to her.
“Possessive much?” she lifted her head again to grin at him.
“You know it,” He grinned at her as he moved one sure hand to the base of her spine, and lifted her to grind against him. “You belong to me, Chloe. You promised me that. I protect what's mine.”
His words sent her higher. She arched her back, meeting each thrust halfway until it seemed like her world exploded with the intensity of his touch. He whispered her name like a prayer as she pulled him over the edge with her.
When at last their breathing returned to normal, she reached for his chin, and tilted it up; a motion that forced him to look into her eyes.
“Chloe,” he said reverently.
“Not that I don't appreciate the attention,” she said smiling up at him,”But I need to know what happened.”
He nodded once, and then rolled onto his back. She followed, and rested on his shoulder. “What do you remember?”
She frowned as she recalled the pain - and what led up to it. “Mac did something.”
Anger flashed in Dean's eyes, but was quickly masked. “I'll say. He pushed your powers to the point that you dropped from exhaustion.”
Chloe considered that. Mac's abilities allowed him to manipulate one person's powers and give them to another. “Why would he need to push them so hard?” She asked.
“Whatever he did, you healed everyone in that room.” It was then that Chloe realized what had been bothering her about Dean. Every scar he'd ever had was gone. She sat up, and touched his forehead, his chin, the shoulder that had been repeatedly burned and shot, his side where the kelpie had gotten him. Even the puckered brand that Meg had placed on his forearm was gone.
Chloe touched the tattoo again, and realized that it had faded.
“I'm going to have to get that touched up,” Dean said with a rueful smile.
“Are you still --”
“Still a Dhampier,” Dean nodded in confirmation. “I think your blood changed me about as much as you could when you gave me the transfusion.” Dean said with a dismissive shrug. “I am what I am.”
Chloe responded with a tender smile. “I love you no matter what you are. You're mine, too.”
He pulled her to him and placed another kiss on her lips in response, before getting back to business.
“Anyway, when Mac used you to heal everyone - it killed every demon that came near you.”
Chloe stared at him incredulously. “What?”
Dean nodded. “The one I was fighting - it just collapsed. Like it was having a seizure or something. And then it died. And it took its human host with it.”
“That's not,” Chloe shook her head in mute horror. “That's not possible. My abilities don't work that way. They heal. They don't kill.”
Dean looked up at her in sympathy. As long as he'd known Chloe, she had been uneasy about her powers. It was the consequence of spending too much time in Smallville, where most of the meteor mutants were crazy, dangerous or both. On top of all that, she'd spent a long time knowing that she'd been mutated before she actually showed any powers. During all that time, she'd been afraid of becoming catatonic thanks to her abilities, just like her mother had.
Now, just when it seemed that she was getting over those feelings, they discovered a new and deadly application for the healing abilities.
It was one thing to kill a demon. He wouldn't shed a tear over that. But the fact that the human host died as well would haunt Chloe. Even if she hadn't made the conscious choice to kill them herself.
“You want to know what I think?” Dean asked. Despite his own exhaustion, he'd been awake most of the night, turning the events over in his head. And while he wasn't a great thinker like Sam or Chloe, he finally worked things out to his own satisfaction.
“Always,” Chloe nodded. Her eyes looked serious and haunted. No matter what, Dean wanted to take that burden off her shoulders.
“I think that this may be why the demons were so scared of you. Maybe they were scared of what your powers do.”
“But why?” Chloe said. “Demon's aren't like a virus. Possession isn't like infection.”
“I'm not so sure,” Dean said mildly. “Dad had a theory. You know the Roanoke Colony?”
“Fourth Grade American History,” Chloe said.
“Shot heard round the world, how bills become laws,” Dean nodded in confirmation.
“Isn't that School House Rock?” Chloe asked.
“Whatever,” Dean frowned. “Anyhoo. Dad believed that the colony was wiped out by a demonic virus. We encountered something similar a couple years back in Oregon. I'm thinking that if possession is viral then maybe if a person had a strong healing ability, they could possibly wipe the demon out. Not just send it back to hell, but annihilate it: like what the Colt did. Death for demons.”
“Which might explain why Meg didn't even try to posses me when she grabbed us that one time,” Chloe said. “Would've been nice to know before I tracked down all that information on anti-possession charms.”
“Still keeps you safe from other stuff,” Dean ruffled her hair as he spoke.
She nodded in response. “Witches and ghosts and kryptofreaks, oh my.” Then her eyes dropped. “I killed those people,” She whispered softly.
“No,” Dean forced her to look at him. “Darlin', don't say that.”
“It's true though,” she looked at him in anguish. “They're dead because of me.”
“Chloe, if they could, they'd probably thank you. How do you think they'd feel about knowing what the demons used them to do? Killing children and flaying people's skin off and wearing it? They would have remembered doing all that fucked up shit. You think they'd want to remember being used that way?”
“Not any more than I want to remember what Mac did,” She said bitterly.
“Darlin',” Dean caressed her face. “If anyone deserves blame in all this, it's him. He's the one who delivered us right into that cult's hands. I bet he set this up from the start to take them out.”
Chloe looked unsure, so he pressed his case further. “He's the one who can clone powers. And he's the one who pushed you that far. You were just a weapon in all of this.”
She shut her eyes against the tears that threatened to fall, and nodded at him. “I want to talk to him.”
“Hell no,” Dean said. “I don't want him near you again.”
“Dean,” Chloe opened her misty eyes, and tilted her head to look at him imploringly. “Please. He betrayed us. Used us. I have to be able to reconcile that with the man that I thought was my friend.”
He frowned and slowly nodded. “I understand,” He said quietly. “But I'm coming with you. And if that bastard tries something, I'm going to tear him apart.”
Chloe nodded in agreement. “Okay,” she said quietly.