Fic: Birdwatching (1/1)
Fic: Birdwatching (1/1)
Summary: Dean found Chloe. Now what?
Author: Pen37
Beta: None. Mistakes are all mine, folks!
Fandoms: Smallville/Supernatural
Characters: Dean, Sam
Rating: pg
A/N:Written for chleanthursday.
Dean wasn’t sure what his next move should be. He found Chloe Sullivan. But since she hadn’t admitted to having saved him, he couldn’t exactly thank her.
If he tried, she would probably look at him like he was crazy.
He felt like there should be a connection there. But she hadn’t recognized him. Or if she had, she wasn’t inclined to let him know.
Of course, if she was mixed up with Superman, she wouldn’t let him know that she had saved him. That would probably be tantamount to admitting that she knew Superman. The more Dean thought about it, the more he felt like there was this massive, invisible wall around her that he wouldn’t ever be able to get around.
He’d sat in the parking lot across from the Daily Planet, and watched her to her car a couple of times while trying to get up the courage to go over there and talk to her. But when his nerve failed him, and she reached her car and drove away, he made no move to follow her home. That would be just too much like a crazy stalker.
So here he was: on duty at the firestation, polishing the chrome on one of the fenders of the trucks while he tried to plan his next move.
“Hey Winchester! Your brother is here.” The Chief called out to him.
Dean looked up as Sammy walked through the door with a notebook computer under one arm. He dropped to the floor next to Dean. “Found out some more on your angel.”
Dean dropped the rag and looked at Sam expectantly.
“She’s probably a meta,” Sam said as he popped the lid up on his notebook and spun it so that Dean could see.
“The Wall of Weird?” Dean looked at Sam for confirmation.
“Before she went respectable and joined The Daily Planet, your little blonde had quite a taste for tabloid news. Sam said. “Except that not long after she stopped updating this website, word about metahumans started getting aound. So maybe she wasn’t making stuff up after all.”
“So why stop writing about it?” Dean asked.
Sam shifted on the concrete floor. “Maybe she found a reason to want to protect the Smallville specials.”
Dean tilted his head in acknowledgement. He skimmed through the articles, half listening to Sam.
“She’s been through some stuff,” Sam said. “Movie of the week melodrama stuff. The girl attracts trouble.”
Dean felt compelled to defend her. “Yeah, but from the look of things, she’s a good person. “
“Who almost got blown up for testifying against a billionaire,” Sam said. “I think maybe you shouldn’t get too fixated on her.”
Dean sighed. “I’ve been telling myself that. It’s not working.”
“I didn’t think it would,” Sam said with a sad smile. “I should apologize in advance.”
Dean narrowed his eyes.
“If she is a meta, she’s not going to want to have anything to do with you. And that might be my fault.” Sam said.
Dean gave him a long, searching look. “What did you do, Sammy?”
Sam sprawled across the bay, long legs stretching out impossibly. “You know I’m in the FBI, right? Well, a few months back, the Luthorcorp foundation compiled some statistics in opposition of Martha Kent’s metahuman rights act. The stats showed that about eighty percent of all metas that come out of Smallville were either dangerous, crazy or both. That’s better than three out of four. So The FBI started looking for guys to fill our Metropolis branch.”
“That’s why you moved back?” Dean looked at Sam incredulously. “So you could hunt metas?”
“Not a hunter,” Sam said quickly. “More like a police officer. Metas who aren’t endangering the community don’t have anything to worry about.”
“Who decides?” Dean muttered.
“It’s not a perfect system, but it works.” Sam said.
“And I thought you moved back to be closer to the family,” Dean shook his head.
“I’ve got my reasons for doing this,” Sam said.
“What are they?” Dean asked.
“Not important,” Sam looked away. “If she knows you’re my brother, she probably won’t have anything to do with you.”
Dean’s jaw worked as he looked away. Finally he looked back at Sam and shook his head.
“Dude? As far as I’m concerned, you’re not ever allowed to complain about me stealing your prom date again,” Dean said. With another sigh, he rolled to his feet and threw his polishing rag into a tool box mounted against the wall. “The game is on. You coming?”
Sam looked startled. “I didn’t think I was invited.”
“You’re my brother, ain’t ya?. Just don’t be a girl about this around the guys upstairs”
Sam grinned as he gathered his notebook together and followed Dean out of the garage.