Fic: Getting Up (4/?)
Fic: Getting Up (4/12)
Authors: muses-circle and Pen37
Series: Slayer!Chloe
Beta: Clarksmuse
Fandoms: Supernatural, Smallville, Buffy/Angel Verse
Pairing: Chloe/Dean
Rating: Pg-13
Wordcount: 1,559
Summary: Chloe has left the relative safety of the Winchester's company. But she may regret it when she's stalked by a former Slayer who is now of the fanged persuasion.
Ch. 1, Ch. 2, Ch. 3, Ch. 4, Ch. 5, Ch. 6, Ch. 7, Ch.8, Ch. 9, Ch. 10, Ch. 11, Ch. 12 ,
A couple hours later and a thorough search of downtown Lawrence did nothing to allay Dean’s mood. If anything, it had gotten worse. The simmering anger had turned into a full-on bout of angry pessimism. They had looked everywhere: the coffee shops and the park, every store along the downtown strip in search of her. Every blonde head Dean saw gave him a glimmer of hope that was quickly replaced by a moment of hopelessness. Chloe wasn’t anywhere to be found.
“This is ridiculous,” he muttered as he met Sam back at the Impala and ignored his brother’s silent plea for the keys. He got into the driver’s side, turned on the ignition, and waited for Sam to get in. When that didn’t happen, he leaned over and glared at Sam. “Dude, you getting in or what?”
“I would if you’d unlock the damn door,” Sam replied in a calm, angry voice.
Dean snapped the lock up and moved back to his position behind the wheel. He’d been so focused on finding Chloe, on wondering where she would have gone, that he’d forgotten small things. He didn’t like that one bit, either. If she’d stop being a pain and go back to the hotel, he thought and felt the car move under Sam’s weight.
Glancing behind him for oncoming traffic, Dean scooted into the street and impatiently suffered the slow midday downtown drivers.
“I really think we’re looking in the wrong places,” Sam said after a moment. “I don’t think Chloe’d come downtown.”
“Why not?” he demanded and shut off the part of him that grieved her loss. “Isn’t that what all chicks like to do? Go shop when they’re pissed off at their boyfriends?”
“One,” Sam said, “I didn’t realize you two were exclusive. Two, Chloe’s not your ordinary girl. Three, she strikes me as the ‘run as fast as you can’ type and not the ‘shop until you drop’ kind.” He ticked off his small list with his fingers, which only exacerbated Dean’s need to shut his little brother up as efficiently as possible.
He knew Chloe wasn’t an ordinary girl. For starters, she seemed to like him at one point. Even confessed to loving him, though that wasn’t likely anymore. Not when he and Sam had clearly done everything possible to drive Chloe away for good. Didn’t matter that beneath the anger and betrayal lay his broken heart, which was figuratively bleeding out. As much as he wanted to ignore that part of him, Dean couldn’t. But he’d deal with it, like he always did. By himself, without any help.
Sam would never know. And in the meantime, if they couldn't find her, they’d move on. Find Dad. Get on with their lives as hunters. Leave this slayer girl behind and firmly planted as a memory. Nothing more.
“Well, if you hadn’t been investigating her like some kind of - ”
“Freak? Yeah, right. I’m the one with painful headachy daymares, Dean. I’m the freak. She’s just the Slayer.”
“So not the point, Sam.”
“And what is the point, Dean? Tit for tat? She got us, so now we got her and she takes off? Haven’t you gotten that she’s wanted to split for awhile now?”
Dean wove through traffic and tried not to punch his brother in the face. Sure, he’d noticed it. It wasn’t every day that Dean got involved with a woman. Much less one that wouldn't let him take care of her.
So he’d expected Chloe to distance herself, especially after their argument in Cleveland. He was surprised she agreed to go with them to begin with. And a part of him still questioned why Chloe wanted to be with him in the first place. After all, wasn’t he little more than a homeless drifter, traveling from town to town in search of a father who didn’t want to be found? Wasn’t Sam the only other person in his life who would put up with his bravado and see through it? He thought maybe one day, Chloe would . . .
Shut up, Dean, he thought. Now’s not the time for hugs and puppies. “Whatever. Point is, I have to make sure she’s okay,” he said to Sam.
“And I’m telling you, we need to be smart about this. If she doesn’t want to be found, then we're not going to spot her in a crosswalk.” Sam replied, clearly irritated.
They drove around a corner and came to the university campus. Dean sped around another car but Sam made a noise of protest. “What now, princess?” Dean asked. “Panties in a wad?”
“Dude, go on campus.”
Dean made a face. “Why, so you can remember all those dorky good times you had at Stanford?”
“No, because it’s possible Chloe would’ve gone here.”
“How would you know, Sam?”
“Because wasn’t Chloe in college and a journalist? If I were going to ground. My first stop would be someplace that made me feel safe. My guess would be she’d either be at the library trying to blend in or sitting at a cyber café, contacting Spike.”
Spike. The last dude in the world Dean wanted to think about. “Okay, psychic boy,” he grumbled and turned onto the main campus drag. “Use your freaky mind powers to find her.”
“I don’t think it works that way, dude,” Sam replied, and Dean could hear the eyeroll in his brother’s voice.
They drove along the two-lane road at a snail’s pace. Students scurried like ants across the street, which meant stopping every five seconds to avoid hitting them. Dean set his jaw and ground his teeth with frustration with the agonizingly slowness and thanked whatever God there was that he didn’t live this kind of life. The kids wielding backpacks the size of Texas - loaded with books and other college material - didn’t look remotely interesting.
He sideglanced at Sam, though, who looked entranced as he gazed longingly at the same people. Dean thought about how maybe his brother missed the college life, especially since Sam had cut all contact from the friends he left behind in Palo Alto. A surge of envy flared up before Dean could stuff it back into its compartment: knowing Sam could have a normal life, while he lived like a freak was just as bad as realizing the people he cared about most up and left him.
A glaring neon sign caught Dean’s attention, however, as he stopped the Impala to let a stream of pedestrians across the street. Gaslight Tavern, it read. The place looked like the kind of joint Sam would’ve frequented if he’d gone to school here. Which meant Chloe might be inside. “Hey,” he said and smacked Sam on the arm, “what about that joint?”
“Sure,” Sam agreed after a moment. “It’s as good a place to look as any.”
Dean felt Sam’s hesitation but pulled the car into the nearest parking space and looked over at him. “What?” he asked.
Sam shrugged, but Dean could tell there was something on his mind. “Nothing, dude.”
Huffing slightly, Dean rolled his eyes. “Fine. Whatever.” He got out of the car and didn’t bother waiting for Sam to catch up.
The tavern was a coffeehouse slash bar, a cheery façade coupled with a few dimly lit back booths for people who wanted privacy. The perfect place to hide if necessary. Dean spotted the waitress, a slim brunette, and walked over to her.
The woman smiled brightly. “Can I help you with something?”
Dean felt her checking him out, eyes moving over his body, but ignored the obvious come-on. “I’m looking for someone,” he said. “A woman. About twenty. Short and blonde?” At her blank look, he sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. “She would’ve come in wearing this fugly purple jacket.”
The woman’s face lit up with familiarity. “Oh yeah, I remember her,” she said. “Came in her a few hours ago and ordered a mocha.”
“And?”
“And . . . nothing. She asked for a pen, paper, and envelope. Left about 20 minutes later.”
“Dean.” He turned to see Sam holding something behind his back, a look of sympathetic defeat in his eyes.
Nodding his thanks to the waitress, he turned around to his brother. “What? You look like your favorite puppy just died.”
Sam pulled Chloe’s purple jacket from behind him and shook his head. “No, but I think our lead just did. She’s gone, dude.”
If the floor could have fallen out from beneath his feet, Dean wouldn’t have noticed. His entire being was wrapped up in that ugly purple jacket. The one thing he hated to see on Chloe. The one thing he wished more than ever was wrapped around her, because that meant she’d be there with them.
Chloe wasn’t gone, he thought. Just needed to go incognito for awhile. To think or something. Dean yanked the jacket out of Sam’s grasp and pretended not to notice the puppy-dog look his brother got when he was about to hug somebody. “Come on, let’s go,” he said. “We’ve got a slayer to find.”
Dean twisted the jacket in his hands as he strode out the café door and studied the people around him. He was going to find her. No matter what. She wouldn’t take off into the darkness without him . . . right?