Two Guys, a Girl and a Chevy Impala: The Demons We Hide: Chapter Four
Series: Two Guys, a Girl and a Chevy Impala
Story One: “The Demons We Hide”
Authors: Clarksmuse and X_tremeroswellian
Rated: R
Genre: Smallville/Supernatural crossover
Pairings: Eventual Chloe/Dean, of course
Spoilers: Spoiler speculation for Smallville; up through "No Exit" of Supernatural.
Feedback: Rocks our socks and you guys are awesome with it so thank you!!
Chloe didn't dare even venture a glance at Sam as she moved to sit in one of the middle pews in the fairly large church. There weren't very many people despite the size of the church--there was maybe fifty by the time the sermon was starting. Glancing around to try and see if any of the missing people were there, she didn't recognize anyone, but several people regarded her with a hint of suspicion. She simply smiled and ducked her head, pretending to be shy.
Sam had never been in such a stuffy place in all his life. He tugged briefly at his tie as he quickly scanned the mostly empty church, trying very hard to drown out the screaming preacher at the podium, ranting and raving about the evils of the United States and how every single bad thing that had happened in the last several years was because of disobedience.
Aside from a few glances from the congregation, Sam didn't recognize anyone. Except Chloe, that was. He couldn't help but notice how shy she acted, her game face hiding her fear of something else. Something that had undoubtedly happened between her and Dean, he figured. Sighing slightly, he forced himself to look up at the preacher and pretend to listen intently, even though he felt his ears might bleed at any moment.
Forcing thoughts of Dean and Clark and Jimmy and Lois from her mind, Chloe focused best she could, nodding slightly in pretend agreement with the preacher, whose gaze focused on her after a few moments. She felt her blood run cold.
Sam watched the preacher's eyes zero in on Chloe and almost physically shudder. As it was, he felt all the color drain from his face as he wondered what part the preacher might have had in all these disappearances. Suddenly, as if on queue, the preacher turned his cold, pasty blue eyes on Sam, boring mental holes into his head.
Chloe watched the preacher's gaze shift and knew without turning to look he was now staring hard at Sam. Probably sizing him up, as well. Determining if he would make a good addition to his sick little cult.
Sam stared at the preacher, trying to look humble but deep down inside knowing he was being sized up. He pasted a small, timid smile on his face as if to complete agree with what the preacher was saying. Still, several moments passed before the preacher looked away from him.
And focused back on Chloe, moving off the pulpit and down the aisle to stand only a few feet away from her, seeming to speak directly to her and her alone as he spoke of sinners and burning in hell.
For a second, Sam honestly thought their cover had been blown, that somehow, the preacher had seen right through either Chloe or himself. Fortunately, the man continued his path up the aisle, though he lingered by the row Chloe sat in. It took everything in him not to get up and punch the guy.
Chloe looked up at him with something between a frightened and admiring look, feeling sick to her stomach as he remained standing so close.
Sam kept his eyes on the preacher as he stared at Chloe before moving away... and heading towards him. The old man's cold, emotionless blue eyes settled back on him, making him inwardly cringe. It was a good thing Dean wasn't here, he thought, frowning inwardly. His brother didn't have the poker face for something this intense.
All the while the preacher kept his eyes on Sam, he droned on about sinners and disobedience. About how God punishes all sinners. Sam honestly believed he was speaking to him at the moment.
Chloe shuddered involuntarily as the man moved away from her. There was something about him that was downright frightening. And not much scared Chloe Sullivan.
The sermon couldn't end soon enough, Sam realized. The preacher's incessant droning was starting to make him angry. And the way he kept his eyes on Chloe bothered him even more. As the congregation began to disperse, he couldn't wait to get outside to breathe in the free air again.
As the sermon finally ended, Chloe remained sitting in her seat, knowing Sam was going to get upset when he realized there was more to her plan than simply sitting through the service.
Sam slipped out of his seat, trying hard not to look at Chloe. He did notice she was still sitting there and briefly wondered why she was still there, but when a few greeters approached him to play twenty questions, he was forced to put all thoughts of Chloe behind as he put on his game face to speak with them.
Chloe felt the preacher moving back toward her since she didn't turn around to see him. I can do this, she told herself. She'd dealt with much more frightening things in her short life.
With a cold, polite smile on his face, Pastor Frank greeted the female he had seen in the congregation. Pretty little thing, he thought, watching her turn around. "My name is Pastor Frank Jones. Welcome to our humble congregation."
"Hello, Pastor," she said in a very soft voice, a cold chill running down her spine. "I'm Chloe."
Nodding to her condescendingly, he replied smoothly, "So nice to meet you, Chloe. I hope that our message has reached you and has cleansed you of all your sins."
"How do I know for sure?" Chloe asked with a worried expression.
"There's only one way to know for sure," he replied, taking a step closer to her. "You must accept obedience through the Lord our God, who is the ONLY one to obey. Once that happens, you'll be filled with the love that the Lord can provide."
The closer the man got the sicker with dread Chloe felt. She suddenly wasn't so sure she could do this after all. Swallowing hard, she nodded slightly, her heart rate picking up a bit.
"Will we be seeing you at the service this evening?" Pastor Frank said with a casual smile. "We always have a dinner beforehand to plan the various meetings and protests we have around the country."
"I'd love to come back," she said before she could stop herself. "I'm new in town, and...I don't really know anyone here. I don't really have any family or friends..." What the hell was she doing? That was way too much information.
Taking her hand, he smiled gently at her. "WE can be your family, Chloe. We are such a tightly woven group of people, completely devoted to the Lord Our God, keeping ourselves as removed from the rest of this evil-ridden world as possible. We'd be happy to have you in the fold."
For some reason she suddenly felt like crying. Tears welled in her eyes as she gazed up at him.
"There, there, my child," the pastor crooned, trying to hug her. "All will be well. Come back tonight and you shall see."
It was about that time that Sam happened to look away from the small crowd and saw the preacher moving physically close to Chloe. He wanted to punch through the group and grab her, but he refrained, knowing she could handle herself.
"Thank you," she murmured, feeling confused and sick. "I'll be back tonight."
"I sincerely hope so," he replied, briefly noticing the young man he'd noticed during the service looking their way. Ignoring that, he smiled and moved away.
She watched him go, swallowing hard and then slowly turning to head toward the door, feeling overwhelmed.
Sam tried very hard not to pay attention to Chloe as she quickly left the church and wished to heaven he could go with her. However, he was forced to wait until she had already gotten into her taxi and left. In the meantime, he had to listen to the endless droning of how sinners are going to hell. It was nearly thirty minutes before Sam found himself standing outside their hotel room again.
By that time, Chloe had already locked herself in her motel room, and curled up in bed beneath the covers, shivering involuntarily.
Rather than going into his room, Sam knocked on Chloe's door, hoping she'd answer.
Closing her eyes, she willed him to just go away.
"Chloe," he said through the door. "Please let me in."
"I don't really wanna talk right now, Sam."
"Chloe, if you don't let me in, I'm going to have to deal with Dean. And I promise you he's going to break in the door after what I saw."
Forcing herself to sit up, she let out a sigh of frustration and moved toward the door, yanking it open.
Sam walked inside without invitation, turning as she shut the door. "Can I just ask what you were doing, talking to that guy?" he asked softly, not wanting to alert Dean to the fact that they were back yet.
"Just sitting there listening to that crap isn't gonna get us very far," she told him, not meeting his gaze.
Running a hand through his hair, he said, "You could've warned me before you decided to talk to that... guy." If it really WAS a guy, Sam thought with a rueful smile.
"I knew you'd protest."
"Because I knew that guy was genuinely creepy," he snapped back. Crossing his arms, he said, "What'd you find out?"
"I'm going back tonight," she admitted quietly.
Sam stared, startled and surprised. "Alone?" he whispered. Oh, Dean's going to have an aneurism, he thought.
"He invited me back." Chloe finally lifted her gaze to meet his. "Which is good. That was the plan," she said softly. "Maybe I can get some answers."
"Yes, that was the plan," he agreed. "But you're not supposed to go alone." He crossed his arms, knowing deep down inside that her going alone was a truly bad idea. Even if Chloe COULD take care of herself.
"Did you get an invite back?" she asked quietly, gazing at him.
"As it happens... yes, I did," he replied with a shudder. "By a rather large woman who kept looking at me like she wanted to marry me off to her daughter." He made a face.
A short chuckle escaped her involuntarily.
"Very funny," he replied with a smirk, though the smile on Chloe's face did not reflect in her eyes. "That guy really got to you, didn't he?" he asked suddenly.
"There was something about him," she admitted softly, sitting down on the bed. "Charismatic."
"If that's another word for creepy, then, yeah, he has loads of it," he replied, looking at her carefully. This guy had touched something very personal in Chloe, he realized with a start. That scared him deeply.
Chloe let out a slow breath, reaching up and rubbing the back of her neck.
"What is it, Chloe?" he asked quietly, more concerned for her by the minute because of the lost, hopeless look in her eyes.
"I'm just tired," she whispered, closing her eyes. "I think I need to get a few hours sleep before tonight."
"I think it's more complicated than that," he replied, "but you're right. Get some sleep. I'll be there myself tonight." Even though he knew that Dean would most likely chew his ear off for most of the day.
Nodding wordlessly, she watched him head for the door before crawling under the covers once more, squeezing her eyes shut tightly.
&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&
Sam was quiet as he headed into the room he and Dean were sharing. Not looking at his brother, he undid the tie around his neck and tossed it on the bed before sitting down, looking weary and worried.
Watching his brother shrug out of his suit jacket, Dean knew the morning had not gone well. Of course it hadn't, he thought. Look at what they were dealing with. People, who made no sense to him whatsoever. Standing up, he said, "Do I need to ask how it went?"
He looked up at his brother. "Dude. Those people are completely off their rockers."
"I could've told you that," he replied, standing up. "I checked out that website they had. Pretty messed up, if you ask me." He glanced at the connecting door. "How is she?"
Sam hesitated a moment. "She's sleeping."
Oh boy, he thought, standing up and crossing over to the connecting door. Leaning his forehead against it, he couldn't help but think about the kiss they'd shared for the hundredth time that day... and her reaction afterwards. Going to this church couldn't have helped. "Okay," he whispered, wanting to see her face but resisting that urge. Turning back around, he looked at Sam. "What'd you guys find out, aside from the insanity, I mean?"
Here we go, Sam thought warily. "We both got invited back for dinner and services tonight," he told his brother. "Me by some random lady whom I'm pretty sure wants me to marry her daughter."
Dean cocked an eyebrow, slightly amused. "The women are after you already, huh?"
"Hey, you're not the only good looking one in this family," Sam grumbled.
"I am SO not touching that one," he retorted, smiling for a moment before it left his face. "Is Chloe going, too?"
Sam avoided his eyes. "Yeah."
Dean's eyes turned dark and stormy. "How'd she get the invite, Sammy?" he demanded.
He drew in a breath. "From the preacher."
His stomach felt like it had been sucker-punched. "What?" he demanded softly. "That sick son of a bitch spoke to her?"
If that upset his brother as much as he knew it did, he'd hate to see Dean's reaction if he found out how closely he'd stood by the pretty blonde through part of the sermon, seeming to preach right at her.
An emotion flicked through Sam's face, something that bothered Dean to no end. "What is it?" he asked harshly, taking a step closer to Sam. "Now is NOT the time to hold anything back. Not when it comes to Chloe." Why he felt this need to protect her, he didn't know.
Sam rose to his feet, rubbing the back of his neck. "I don't know what he said to her, but...whatever it was...it got to her, man. And...not in a good way."
Taking another few steps away from the connecting door, he saw red flashes before his eyes. Almost like he was seeing Hell itself rise up in him, creating a riot of emotions that he couldn't handle or deal with. "She didn't tell you?" he whispered dangerously.
"No," he said quietly. He let out a breath.
Quietly, without any emotion flickering across his face, Dean walked to the other side of the room and punched a hole in the wall.
"Dean!" Sam stared at him.
He leaned his head against the wall, pulling his arm out of the hole he'd just made. His arms dropped to his side, and he just stood there.
"What the hell is going on with you?" He stared in disbelief. "What are you, in love with this girl?"
Was he in love with her? he asked himself, not moving a muscle. "That's insane, Sammy, and you know it." Of course, why would he run his hand through a wall over a woman? It had never happened before. Was it everything... else? he wondered. All he knew is he wanted to see Chloe. Now. And not being able to was torture.
"Yeah, it is. We've only known for like, four days."
"What's your point, little brother?" he asked, turning around to look at him. "Who said this is just about her?"
"Then what is it about?" Sam gazed at him with worried eyes.
Shaking his head, he looked out the window. "Everything, Sammy... just... everything." He took a few steps towards the window. "And I guess you could say I... feel something for... her." It was hard getting the words out, but at least he knew Sam wouldn't completely ridicule him for saying them.
He sighed softly, looking at the floor. "I like her too," he admitted.
"That preacher didn't...hurt her, did he?" he asked darkly. *
"Like I said...I don't know what he said to her." Sam's voice was quiet. "But it upset her."
He thought for several moments. Whatever it was this dude said to her had to be connected to her past, he thought. "It's got to do with what she's running from," he voiced out loud. "Surely she could have handled this guy better if not for..." Okay, well, there was the kiss they'd shared, he mused with a frown.
"What?" His eyebrows furrowed and he looked at his brother, knowing Dean had another thought on whatever he was saying.
He shook his head. "Nothing, just... nothing." He stared out the window, standing on the spot where he'd kissed her several hours before. That one single moment branded in his head forever. The look on her face, the way she felt against him. The way she ran away.
"Right." He sighed softly.
"Shut up," Dean murmured. "Don't you have another session with Hell to attend?"
"Not for another..." Sam looked at his watch. "Five hours."
"Five hours?" he repeated, walking away from the window and moving back to the connecting door. "Think she'll let me see her before you go again?" he asked, his heart despairing at the thought of not looking at her.
"I don't know, Dean."
Sighing, he grabbed his jacket. "I'm going out," he said suddenly, heading for the door.
"Dean?"
"Yeah?" he said, not looking at Sam.
"Don't do anything stupid, okay?"
A faint smile crossed his lips. "Can't promise anything, but I'll try. I'll be back before you guys leave again," he promised, turning and shutting the door quietly behind him. Once outside, his face turned stony, a wall to keep the outside world away from what he was feeling inside.
&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&
Dean had done his best to keep himself occupied while Sam and Chloe were at their nighttime brainwashing seminar. As much as he had hoped to get to the bottom of things with just the one visit, he realized they might have to remain undercover for a bit. And that worried him more than anything else. Especially where Chloe was concerned.
He hadn't seen her nor heard from her since... He grimaced, shaking his head as he cleaned out his gun. He refused to think about that anymore. Focusing all his energy on his task, he was barely conscious of the face that there was a small knock on his door.
Sam stood outside the room, feeling drained as he rested his forehead against the door, waiting for his brother to answer.
Standing up, Dean walked to the door and opened it, surprised to find Sam on the other side. Looking like the life had literally been beaten out of him. "Dude, where's your key?" he asked slowly.
"I don't know," he murmured, moving past his brother into the room and dropping onto the bed, shutting his eyes.
He had never seen Sam like this before, and his anger and frustration leapt thirty fold. "What happened?" he asked, shutting the door and immediately glancing at the connecting door. "Chloe back yet?"
"I'm all right. Go see her. She's in there." He pressed an arm over his eyes.
Dean doubted that Sam was alright, but he didn't press the issue. Wondering how he would find Chloe, he knocked on the connecting door and waited for her to answer.
Chloe lay motionless in bed, curled up in a ball, her arms wrapped around herself as she tried to stop herself from shaking. "Come in," she whispered, her voice barely audible.
Opening the door, he found her wrapped up in a ball on her bed. He shut the door and immediately went to her, kneeling down beside her. She looked pale and fragile, which made him hate this preacher guy. "Chloe," he whispered, not knowing what else to say. He sure as hell wasn't going to grill her on what she'd been through, because clearly, it had been hell.
She shut her eyes. "I'm okay," she murmured, still shivering.
"You're not okay," he protested softly, pulling back the comforter on the bed and pulling it up around her. He gently touched her face, which was cold and clammy. If he didn't know any better, he'd say she was sick. "Talk to me."
"I'm freezing," she whispered almost inaudibly.
Silently, Dean pulled her to him. He wrapped the bedspread around her, then sat back onto the headboard, holding her close to him. "Let's get you warm," he whispered, rubbing her back with his hands while he cradled her.
She lay in his arms motionless, a couple of tears leaking from her eyes without her even being aware of it.
Having noticed her tears, he gently wiped them away with his thumbs. Something was seriously wrong with her, and for the life of him, he didn't know how to ask that question. Finally he asked, "What are the tears for, Chloe?"
"Everything," she whispered, closing her eyes in exhaustion.
"Can you give me an example?" he asked patiently, still holding her and trying to warm her up. She felt good in his arms, he realized. He'd wanted her there all day.
"Everything's screwed up. I don't belong anywhere," she whispered, her voice strained. "I never have."
"Funny," he said, the words spilling from his mouth, "I was just thinking how much you belong here. With me. Right now."
She didn't respond, her breathing beginning to even out as her body slowly began to relax.
He was confused by her lack of response and tried hard not to take it as rejection. He sighed softly, feeling her body gradually stop shaking, which had to be a good thing.
"You're a good guy," she whispered.
That was the last thing he'd expected her to say, but he let her words flow through his body, warming him in places he thought was dead. "You're a strong woman," he murmured in return.
"No, I'm not," she whispered, another tear trickling down her cheek.
Pulling her closer to him, he dropped a small kiss on the top of her head. "What makes you say that?"
"Strong women don't run."
Shrugging a little, he replied, "Sure they do. Who hasn't run when things get too much to handle?"
Chloe relaxed a little more as his hand settled lightly on her shoulder blades. "Thanks for picking me up off the side of the road."
She sounded so sad, like she was little more than an abandoned dog left on the side of that road. "Don't do that," he whispered, his voice ragged.
"Do what?" she almost whimpered.
"Make yourself out to be like a puppy we picked up," he whispered. "You're much more than that."
"You only think that because you don't know me."
"I know that, deep down, you have a good heart. Much more than I do." He didn't know how he knew that, but he did. Maybe it what he usually saw shining in her eyes.
"I wouldn't say that," she whispered softly.
Dean disagreed with her, but he remained silent. There was nothing he would do to interfere with this moment. Especially not a heated argument. "Maybe... holding you makes me a better man," he said almost inaudibly.
Chloe shivered and then relaxed when his arms tightened around her a little more. "You should check on Sam," she whispered as she began to drift off to sleep.
"No," he whispered. "I need to make sure you're okay. You're still shivering." He dropped another kiss onto her hear.
She didn't have the energy or the desire to protest. She fell asleep minutes later, her head resting against his chest, feeling safe and warm.
Dean stayed with her for a couple hours, watching her body slowly relax into a deeper sleep. He debated over whether he should stay there all night, but he had a feeling she wouldn't appreciate that. Funny, however, that when he tried to move her over and get off the bed, Chloe's hands gripped tighter onto his shirt, as if she didn't want to let him go.
After a few tries, however, he was able to curl her up into her bed, pulling the covers over her and kissing her lips softly before crossing into the room he shared with Sam. Opening the connecting door, he found his brother wide awake, staring at the ceiling with dead, sightless eyes.
"How's she doing?" Sam asked dully, not looking over at him.
"She's sleeping," he replied, looking at Sam with the same concern he'd had with Chloe. "She was a mess, though."
"Yeah, I figured as much." He shut his eyes and draped his arm over them, exhaling slowly.
Sitting down, he looked at his brother for several minutes before speaking. What could have affected them so... intensely? he wondered. This preacher must be a demon, because the last time he saw Sam this messed up was over... Dad. He looked down and sighed. "What happened?"
Sam was silent for a moment. Then he uncovered his eyes to look at his brother. "I'm not sure I can explain it...but these people..." He let out a breath. "Have this amazing way of making you feel like everything bad is your fault."
That comment took Dean aback. He shifted in his seat uneasily, not knowing what to say. "What.... do they tell you?" he asked quietly.
His eyebrows furrowed a little. "You know...I'm not sure," he whispered, feeling confused.
"What do you mean?" he asked, frowning. "You can't remember, or...?"
Sam slowly sat up, rubbing his forehead. "It's kinda fuzzy," he murmured.
Leaning forward, Dean asked, "What can you recall?" Something crept into his heart that he barely recalled experiencing before: fear.
He closed his eyes. "Mostly just...guilt," he admitted in a whisper. "But also...a strange sense of belonging."
"... belonging?" he said slowly. "Sammy, what the hell are you talking about? These freaks are..." He waved his hand in the air. "... well, freaks!"
"I know, Dean," he said with a hint of irritation in his voice. "Like I said, it's hard to explain."
Standing up, Dean began his habitual pacing, trying to keep a lid on his anger over how messed up this situation had quickly become. "Dude, look, you're brainwashed or something. You and Chloe. I need to know what happened."
"I think you're right," he murmured, feeling tired once more. "I think they're using some form of mind control."
Dean saw Sam struggling to keep awake and moved over to him. Grabbing him by the shoulders, he yelled, "You need to stay awake, Sammy! Snap out of it!"
"Stop yelling, man... my head's killin' me."
Dean threatened in a low voice, "Want me to make your arm hurt along with that head? Help me out, dammit."
Before Sam had a chance to respond, real, intense pain blasted through his head and he clutched at it with one hand, scattered images flashing through his mind.
Dean managed to grab Sam before he hit the floor, hopelessly watching his brother writhe in pain. His cheek muscle worked as he knew there was nothing he could do when Sam was having a vision. All he could do was keep him still while it passed.
Pressing one hand to his forehead as it ended, Sam lay back against the bed in pain. "Aspirin," he whispered.
Wordlessly, Dean got up and ran to the bathroom, fumbling for the aspirin and a glass of water. Returning back to his brother, he reached down and handed both to him. He stayed silent as he waited for Sam to take the pills and compose himself once more.
Sam downed the aspirin quickly, wincing a little as he set the glass down. "I saw...some kind of...underground...place," he said, closing his eyes. "People were there..."
"People?" Dean repeated. "People you recognize?"
"No," he murmured, shaking his head a little. "But...there were several."
Shaking his head, Dean continued. "What does this underground place look like?" Anything to help them figure out where to go, he thought. But he knew for damn sure Sam and Chloe weren't going to get near that place again.
"I'm not sure, but...I think it's...somewhere beneath the church." An alarmed look settled on his face. "I think that's where they're taking these people...to program them."
"To brainwash them," Dean said flatly. He looked at Sam, whose eyes were dull with pain. "Dude, you okay?"
"Yeah." He winced again, resting his head on one hand. "The visions are getting more painful." His voice was quiet.
"I know," he replied in a low voice. "And they seem to happen more frequently." He pinched his nose with his fingers.
"It doesn't make any sense," he murmured, leaning back against the bed.
Moving to the wall, Dean leaned against it. "No, it really doesn't," he muttered. "So... this things' underneath the church. I wonder how I can sneak in and find out more about the place?"
"No." Sam shook his head. "You can't."
"Why the hell not, Sammy? I'm not letting you two back in there!" Dean raised his voice a little, just to emphasize his resolve.
"Because I don't think you can make it down there and come back," he said darkly, wincing as his head throbbed. "The place...it's heavily guarded."
"What? We talking semi-automatics and bouncer wannabees?" he replied lazily.
"More like a big demon with a lot of teeth and claws," he said grimly.
Straightening up, he said, "I *knew* there had to be something. I betcha we can kill the hell outta this thing... once we know what it is." He glanced over at Sam, who was watching him dubiously.
"That's not gonna solve the problem, Dean."
"Got any ideas, then, college boy?" he replied with a hard tone. "I don't think I can handle watching you and Chloe have a meltdown."
"Yeah, we can kill the demon, but they're just gonna conjure another one. We have to figure out a way to stop them." He sighed in frustration.
He knew Sam was right, though he was at a loss as to how they were going to do that. As much as he hated it, Sam and Chloe would probably have to investigate it more... without him. His shoulders slumped visibly and he leaned against the wall again, this time looking at his feet.
"We may need more help," he whispered.
"Got anyone in mind?"
"Yeah. But you're not gonna like it."
Grimacing, Dean knew what Sam was thinking and looked up, his eyes glittering with frustration. "Dude, you'd better now be talking about what I think you're thinking of doing."
"Dean, we need help. If this was a couple of people, hell even ten...we might be able to handle without outside influences, but we can't do this on our own. Not against this many people."
"How do you think it's gonna go over calling Ash or Ellen after... the last time we were there?" he asked in a low voice. That was one place he didn't want to go. Not when he knew their own father had led to Ellen's husband's death.
"Dude, I know how you feel. I do." Sam looked at him. "But this is...not like anything we've ever dealt with before."
Sighing in utter frustration, he replied, "I don't know if they'd even help."
"We don't have anything to lose by asking," he said quietly.
"Fine. You're gonna make the call, though." 'Ellen doesn't want to talk to me, that I know,' he thought to himself.
"All right," Sam agreed softly. "I'll call first thing in the morning."
"Fine," he said again, not looking at his brother. He scratched his head, wondering how things got so bad. How everything had fallen apart after Dad's death, Ellen blaming them for her husband's death... meeting Chloe and his feelings for her. It was too much for him to deal with. He needed to go out and hunt something. Now.
"Chloe okay?" he asked, shutting his eyes.
Frowning, Dean didn't look up. "I don't know, Sam. Not like she was really open or... coherent at this point."
He let out a breath. "We'll talk to her in the morning too," he murmured.
"Yeah." Without another word, he grabbed his jacket. "Get some sleep. I'll be back before dawn."
"Where you goin' man?"
"Out," he said cryptically. He shrugged into his jacket, making sure his gun was inside. He intended to get out of there and check out this church site. And nothing was going to stop him.
Story One: “The Demons We Hide”
Authors: Clarksmuse and X_tremeroswellian
Rated: R
Genre: Smallville/Supernatural crossover
Pairings: Eventual Chloe/Dean, of course
Spoilers: Spoiler speculation for Smallville; up through "No Exit" of Supernatural.
Feedback: Rocks our socks and you guys are awesome with it so thank you!!
Chloe didn't dare even venture a glance at Sam as she moved to sit in one of the middle pews in the fairly large church. There weren't very many people despite the size of the church--there was maybe fifty by the time the sermon was starting. Glancing around to try and see if any of the missing people were there, she didn't recognize anyone, but several people regarded her with a hint of suspicion. She simply smiled and ducked her head, pretending to be shy.
Sam had never been in such a stuffy place in all his life. He tugged briefly at his tie as he quickly scanned the mostly empty church, trying very hard to drown out the screaming preacher at the podium, ranting and raving about the evils of the United States and how every single bad thing that had happened in the last several years was because of disobedience.
Aside from a few glances from the congregation, Sam didn't recognize anyone. Except Chloe, that was. He couldn't help but notice how shy she acted, her game face hiding her fear of something else. Something that had undoubtedly happened between her and Dean, he figured. Sighing slightly, he forced himself to look up at the preacher and pretend to listen intently, even though he felt his ears might bleed at any moment.
Forcing thoughts of Dean and Clark and Jimmy and Lois from her mind, Chloe focused best she could, nodding slightly in pretend agreement with the preacher, whose gaze focused on her after a few moments. She felt her blood run cold.
Sam watched the preacher's eyes zero in on Chloe and almost physically shudder. As it was, he felt all the color drain from his face as he wondered what part the preacher might have had in all these disappearances. Suddenly, as if on queue, the preacher turned his cold, pasty blue eyes on Sam, boring mental holes into his head.
Chloe watched the preacher's gaze shift and knew without turning to look he was now staring hard at Sam. Probably sizing him up, as well. Determining if he would make a good addition to his sick little cult.
Sam stared at the preacher, trying to look humble but deep down inside knowing he was being sized up. He pasted a small, timid smile on his face as if to complete agree with what the preacher was saying. Still, several moments passed before the preacher looked away from him.
And focused back on Chloe, moving off the pulpit and down the aisle to stand only a few feet away from her, seeming to speak directly to her and her alone as he spoke of sinners and burning in hell.
For a second, Sam honestly thought their cover had been blown, that somehow, the preacher had seen right through either Chloe or himself. Fortunately, the man continued his path up the aisle, though he lingered by the row Chloe sat in. It took everything in him not to get up and punch the guy.
Chloe looked up at him with something between a frightened and admiring look, feeling sick to her stomach as he remained standing so close.
Sam kept his eyes on the preacher as he stared at Chloe before moving away... and heading towards him. The old man's cold, emotionless blue eyes settled back on him, making him inwardly cringe. It was a good thing Dean wasn't here, he thought, frowning inwardly. His brother didn't have the poker face for something this intense.
All the while the preacher kept his eyes on Sam, he droned on about sinners and disobedience. About how God punishes all sinners. Sam honestly believed he was speaking to him at the moment.
Chloe shuddered involuntarily as the man moved away from her. There was something about him that was downright frightening. And not much scared Chloe Sullivan.
The sermon couldn't end soon enough, Sam realized. The preacher's incessant droning was starting to make him angry. And the way he kept his eyes on Chloe bothered him even more. As the congregation began to disperse, he couldn't wait to get outside to breathe in the free air again.
As the sermon finally ended, Chloe remained sitting in her seat, knowing Sam was going to get upset when he realized there was more to her plan than simply sitting through the service.
Sam slipped out of his seat, trying hard not to look at Chloe. He did notice she was still sitting there and briefly wondered why she was still there, but when a few greeters approached him to play twenty questions, he was forced to put all thoughts of Chloe behind as he put on his game face to speak with them.
Chloe felt the preacher moving back toward her since she didn't turn around to see him. I can do this, she told herself. She'd dealt with much more frightening things in her short life.
With a cold, polite smile on his face, Pastor Frank greeted the female he had seen in the congregation. Pretty little thing, he thought, watching her turn around. "My name is Pastor Frank Jones. Welcome to our humble congregation."
"Hello, Pastor," she said in a very soft voice, a cold chill running down her spine. "I'm Chloe."
Nodding to her condescendingly, he replied smoothly, "So nice to meet you, Chloe. I hope that our message has reached you and has cleansed you of all your sins."
"How do I know for sure?" Chloe asked with a worried expression.
"There's only one way to know for sure," he replied, taking a step closer to her. "You must accept obedience through the Lord our God, who is the ONLY one to obey. Once that happens, you'll be filled with the love that the Lord can provide."
The closer the man got the sicker with dread Chloe felt. She suddenly wasn't so sure she could do this after all. Swallowing hard, she nodded slightly, her heart rate picking up a bit.
"Will we be seeing you at the service this evening?" Pastor Frank said with a casual smile. "We always have a dinner beforehand to plan the various meetings and protests we have around the country."
"I'd love to come back," she said before she could stop herself. "I'm new in town, and...I don't really know anyone here. I don't really have any family or friends..." What the hell was she doing? That was way too much information.
Taking her hand, he smiled gently at her. "WE can be your family, Chloe. We are such a tightly woven group of people, completely devoted to the Lord Our God, keeping ourselves as removed from the rest of this evil-ridden world as possible. We'd be happy to have you in the fold."
For some reason she suddenly felt like crying. Tears welled in her eyes as she gazed up at him.
"There, there, my child," the pastor crooned, trying to hug her. "All will be well. Come back tonight and you shall see."
It was about that time that Sam happened to look away from the small crowd and saw the preacher moving physically close to Chloe. He wanted to punch through the group and grab her, but he refrained, knowing she could handle herself.
"Thank you," she murmured, feeling confused and sick. "I'll be back tonight."
"I sincerely hope so," he replied, briefly noticing the young man he'd noticed during the service looking their way. Ignoring that, he smiled and moved away.
She watched him go, swallowing hard and then slowly turning to head toward the door, feeling overwhelmed.
Sam tried very hard not to pay attention to Chloe as she quickly left the church and wished to heaven he could go with her. However, he was forced to wait until she had already gotten into her taxi and left. In the meantime, he had to listen to the endless droning of how sinners are going to hell. It was nearly thirty minutes before Sam found himself standing outside their hotel room again.
By that time, Chloe had already locked herself in her motel room, and curled up in bed beneath the covers, shivering involuntarily.
Rather than going into his room, Sam knocked on Chloe's door, hoping she'd answer.
Closing her eyes, she willed him to just go away.
"Chloe," he said through the door. "Please let me in."
"I don't really wanna talk right now, Sam."
"Chloe, if you don't let me in, I'm going to have to deal with Dean. And I promise you he's going to break in the door after what I saw."
Forcing herself to sit up, she let out a sigh of frustration and moved toward the door, yanking it open.
Sam walked inside without invitation, turning as she shut the door. "Can I just ask what you were doing, talking to that guy?" he asked softly, not wanting to alert Dean to the fact that they were back yet.
"Just sitting there listening to that crap isn't gonna get us very far," she told him, not meeting his gaze.
Running a hand through his hair, he said, "You could've warned me before you decided to talk to that... guy." If it really WAS a guy, Sam thought with a rueful smile.
"I knew you'd protest."
"Because I knew that guy was genuinely creepy," he snapped back. Crossing his arms, he said, "What'd you find out?"
"I'm going back tonight," she admitted quietly.
Sam stared, startled and surprised. "Alone?" he whispered. Oh, Dean's going to have an aneurism, he thought.
"He invited me back." Chloe finally lifted her gaze to meet his. "Which is good. That was the plan," she said softly. "Maybe I can get some answers."
"Yes, that was the plan," he agreed. "But you're not supposed to go alone." He crossed his arms, knowing deep down inside that her going alone was a truly bad idea. Even if Chloe COULD take care of herself.
"Did you get an invite back?" she asked quietly, gazing at him.
"As it happens... yes, I did," he replied with a shudder. "By a rather large woman who kept looking at me like she wanted to marry me off to her daughter." He made a face.
A short chuckle escaped her involuntarily.
"Very funny," he replied with a smirk, though the smile on Chloe's face did not reflect in her eyes. "That guy really got to you, didn't he?" he asked suddenly.
"There was something about him," she admitted softly, sitting down on the bed. "Charismatic."
"If that's another word for creepy, then, yeah, he has loads of it," he replied, looking at her carefully. This guy had touched something very personal in Chloe, he realized with a start. That scared him deeply.
Chloe let out a slow breath, reaching up and rubbing the back of her neck.
"What is it, Chloe?" he asked quietly, more concerned for her by the minute because of the lost, hopeless look in her eyes.
"I'm just tired," she whispered, closing her eyes. "I think I need to get a few hours sleep before tonight."
"I think it's more complicated than that," he replied, "but you're right. Get some sleep. I'll be there myself tonight." Even though he knew that Dean would most likely chew his ear off for most of the day.
Nodding wordlessly, she watched him head for the door before crawling under the covers once more, squeezing her eyes shut tightly.
&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&
Sam was quiet as he headed into the room he and Dean were sharing. Not looking at his brother, he undid the tie around his neck and tossed it on the bed before sitting down, looking weary and worried.
Watching his brother shrug out of his suit jacket, Dean knew the morning had not gone well. Of course it hadn't, he thought. Look at what they were dealing with. People, who made no sense to him whatsoever. Standing up, he said, "Do I need to ask how it went?"
He looked up at his brother. "Dude. Those people are completely off their rockers."
"I could've told you that," he replied, standing up. "I checked out that website they had. Pretty messed up, if you ask me." He glanced at the connecting door. "How is she?"
Sam hesitated a moment. "She's sleeping."
Oh boy, he thought, standing up and crossing over to the connecting door. Leaning his forehead against it, he couldn't help but think about the kiss they'd shared for the hundredth time that day... and her reaction afterwards. Going to this church couldn't have helped. "Okay," he whispered, wanting to see her face but resisting that urge. Turning back around, he looked at Sam. "What'd you guys find out, aside from the insanity, I mean?"
Here we go, Sam thought warily. "We both got invited back for dinner and services tonight," he told his brother. "Me by some random lady whom I'm pretty sure wants me to marry her daughter."
Dean cocked an eyebrow, slightly amused. "The women are after you already, huh?"
"Hey, you're not the only good looking one in this family," Sam grumbled.
"I am SO not touching that one," he retorted, smiling for a moment before it left his face. "Is Chloe going, too?"
Sam avoided his eyes. "Yeah."
Dean's eyes turned dark and stormy. "How'd she get the invite, Sammy?" he demanded.
He drew in a breath. "From the preacher."
His stomach felt like it had been sucker-punched. "What?" he demanded softly. "That sick son of a bitch spoke to her?"
If that upset his brother as much as he knew it did, he'd hate to see Dean's reaction if he found out how closely he'd stood by the pretty blonde through part of the sermon, seeming to preach right at her.
An emotion flicked through Sam's face, something that bothered Dean to no end. "What is it?" he asked harshly, taking a step closer to Sam. "Now is NOT the time to hold anything back. Not when it comes to Chloe." Why he felt this need to protect her, he didn't know.
Sam rose to his feet, rubbing the back of his neck. "I don't know what he said to her, but...whatever it was...it got to her, man. And...not in a good way."
Taking another few steps away from the connecting door, he saw red flashes before his eyes. Almost like he was seeing Hell itself rise up in him, creating a riot of emotions that he couldn't handle or deal with. "She didn't tell you?" he whispered dangerously.
"No," he said quietly. He let out a breath.
Quietly, without any emotion flickering across his face, Dean walked to the other side of the room and punched a hole in the wall.
"Dean!" Sam stared at him.
He leaned his head against the wall, pulling his arm out of the hole he'd just made. His arms dropped to his side, and he just stood there.
"What the hell is going on with you?" He stared in disbelief. "What are you, in love with this girl?"
Was he in love with her? he asked himself, not moving a muscle. "That's insane, Sammy, and you know it." Of course, why would he run his hand through a wall over a woman? It had never happened before. Was it everything... else? he wondered. All he knew is he wanted to see Chloe. Now. And not being able to was torture.
"Yeah, it is. We've only known for like, four days."
"What's your point, little brother?" he asked, turning around to look at him. "Who said this is just about her?"
"Then what is it about?" Sam gazed at him with worried eyes.
Shaking his head, he looked out the window. "Everything, Sammy... just... everything." He took a few steps towards the window. "And I guess you could say I... feel something for... her." It was hard getting the words out, but at least he knew Sam wouldn't completely ridicule him for saying them.
He sighed softly, looking at the floor. "I like her too," he admitted.
"That preacher didn't...hurt her, did he?" he asked darkly. *
"Like I said...I don't know what he said to her." Sam's voice was quiet. "But it upset her."
He thought for several moments. Whatever it was this dude said to her had to be connected to her past, he thought. "It's got to do with what she's running from," he voiced out loud. "Surely she could have handled this guy better if not for..." Okay, well, there was the kiss they'd shared, he mused with a frown.
"What?" His eyebrows furrowed and he looked at his brother, knowing Dean had another thought on whatever he was saying.
He shook his head. "Nothing, just... nothing." He stared out the window, standing on the spot where he'd kissed her several hours before. That one single moment branded in his head forever. The look on her face, the way she felt against him. The way she ran away.
"Right." He sighed softly.
"Shut up," Dean murmured. "Don't you have another session with Hell to attend?"
"Not for another..." Sam looked at his watch. "Five hours."
"Five hours?" he repeated, walking away from the window and moving back to the connecting door. "Think she'll let me see her before you go again?" he asked, his heart despairing at the thought of not looking at her.
"I don't know, Dean."
Sighing, he grabbed his jacket. "I'm going out," he said suddenly, heading for the door.
"Dean?"
"Yeah?" he said, not looking at Sam.
"Don't do anything stupid, okay?"
A faint smile crossed his lips. "Can't promise anything, but I'll try. I'll be back before you guys leave again," he promised, turning and shutting the door quietly behind him. Once outside, his face turned stony, a wall to keep the outside world away from what he was feeling inside.
&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&
Dean had done his best to keep himself occupied while Sam and Chloe were at their nighttime brainwashing seminar. As much as he had hoped to get to the bottom of things with just the one visit, he realized they might have to remain undercover for a bit. And that worried him more than anything else. Especially where Chloe was concerned.
He hadn't seen her nor heard from her since... He grimaced, shaking his head as he cleaned out his gun. He refused to think about that anymore. Focusing all his energy on his task, he was barely conscious of the face that there was a small knock on his door.
Sam stood outside the room, feeling drained as he rested his forehead against the door, waiting for his brother to answer.
Standing up, Dean walked to the door and opened it, surprised to find Sam on the other side. Looking like the life had literally been beaten out of him. "Dude, where's your key?" he asked slowly.
"I don't know," he murmured, moving past his brother into the room and dropping onto the bed, shutting his eyes.
He had never seen Sam like this before, and his anger and frustration leapt thirty fold. "What happened?" he asked, shutting the door and immediately glancing at the connecting door. "Chloe back yet?"
"I'm all right. Go see her. She's in there." He pressed an arm over his eyes.
Dean doubted that Sam was alright, but he didn't press the issue. Wondering how he would find Chloe, he knocked on the connecting door and waited for her to answer.
Chloe lay motionless in bed, curled up in a ball, her arms wrapped around herself as she tried to stop herself from shaking. "Come in," she whispered, her voice barely audible.
Opening the door, he found her wrapped up in a ball on her bed. He shut the door and immediately went to her, kneeling down beside her. She looked pale and fragile, which made him hate this preacher guy. "Chloe," he whispered, not knowing what else to say. He sure as hell wasn't going to grill her on what she'd been through, because clearly, it had been hell.
She shut her eyes. "I'm okay," she murmured, still shivering.
"You're not okay," he protested softly, pulling back the comforter on the bed and pulling it up around her. He gently touched her face, which was cold and clammy. If he didn't know any better, he'd say she was sick. "Talk to me."
"I'm freezing," she whispered almost inaudibly.
Silently, Dean pulled her to him. He wrapped the bedspread around her, then sat back onto the headboard, holding her close to him. "Let's get you warm," he whispered, rubbing her back with his hands while he cradled her.
She lay in his arms motionless, a couple of tears leaking from her eyes without her even being aware of it.
Having noticed her tears, he gently wiped them away with his thumbs. Something was seriously wrong with her, and for the life of him, he didn't know how to ask that question. Finally he asked, "What are the tears for, Chloe?"
"Everything," she whispered, closing her eyes in exhaustion.
"Can you give me an example?" he asked patiently, still holding her and trying to warm her up. She felt good in his arms, he realized. He'd wanted her there all day.
"Everything's screwed up. I don't belong anywhere," she whispered, her voice strained. "I never have."
"Funny," he said, the words spilling from his mouth, "I was just thinking how much you belong here. With me. Right now."
She didn't respond, her breathing beginning to even out as her body slowly began to relax.
He was confused by her lack of response and tried hard not to take it as rejection. He sighed softly, feeling her body gradually stop shaking, which had to be a good thing.
"You're a good guy," she whispered.
That was the last thing he'd expected her to say, but he let her words flow through his body, warming him in places he thought was dead. "You're a strong woman," he murmured in return.
"No, I'm not," she whispered, another tear trickling down her cheek.
Pulling her closer to him, he dropped a small kiss on the top of her head. "What makes you say that?"
"Strong women don't run."
Shrugging a little, he replied, "Sure they do. Who hasn't run when things get too much to handle?"
Chloe relaxed a little more as his hand settled lightly on her shoulder blades. "Thanks for picking me up off the side of the road."
She sounded so sad, like she was little more than an abandoned dog left on the side of that road. "Don't do that," he whispered, his voice ragged.
"Do what?" she almost whimpered.
"Make yourself out to be like a puppy we picked up," he whispered. "You're much more than that."
"You only think that because you don't know me."
"I know that, deep down, you have a good heart. Much more than I do." He didn't know how he knew that, but he did. Maybe it what he usually saw shining in her eyes.
"I wouldn't say that," she whispered softly.
Dean disagreed with her, but he remained silent. There was nothing he would do to interfere with this moment. Especially not a heated argument. "Maybe... holding you makes me a better man," he said almost inaudibly.
Chloe shivered and then relaxed when his arms tightened around her a little more. "You should check on Sam," she whispered as she began to drift off to sleep.
"No," he whispered. "I need to make sure you're okay. You're still shivering." He dropped another kiss onto her hear.
She didn't have the energy or the desire to protest. She fell asleep minutes later, her head resting against his chest, feeling safe and warm.
Dean stayed with her for a couple hours, watching her body slowly relax into a deeper sleep. He debated over whether he should stay there all night, but he had a feeling she wouldn't appreciate that. Funny, however, that when he tried to move her over and get off the bed, Chloe's hands gripped tighter onto his shirt, as if she didn't want to let him go.
After a few tries, however, he was able to curl her up into her bed, pulling the covers over her and kissing her lips softly before crossing into the room he shared with Sam. Opening the connecting door, he found his brother wide awake, staring at the ceiling with dead, sightless eyes.
"How's she doing?" Sam asked dully, not looking over at him.
"She's sleeping," he replied, looking at Sam with the same concern he'd had with Chloe. "She was a mess, though."
"Yeah, I figured as much." He shut his eyes and draped his arm over them, exhaling slowly.
Sitting down, he looked at his brother for several minutes before speaking. What could have affected them so... intensely? he wondered. This preacher must be a demon, because the last time he saw Sam this messed up was over... Dad. He looked down and sighed. "What happened?"
Sam was silent for a moment. Then he uncovered his eyes to look at his brother. "I'm not sure I can explain it...but these people..." He let out a breath. "Have this amazing way of making you feel like everything bad is your fault."
That comment took Dean aback. He shifted in his seat uneasily, not knowing what to say. "What.... do they tell you?" he asked quietly.
His eyebrows furrowed a little. "You know...I'm not sure," he whispered, feeling confused.
"What do you mean?" he asked, frowning. "You can't remember, or...?"
Sam slowly sat up, rubbing his forehead. "It's kinda fuzzy," he murmured.
Leaning forward, Dean asked, "What can you recall?" Something crept into his heart that he barely recalled experiencing before: fear.
He closed his eyes. "Mostly just...guilt," he admitted in a whisper. "But also...a strange sense of belonging."
"... belonging?" he said slowly. "Sammy, what the hell are you talking about? These freaks are..." He waved his hand in the air. "... well, freaks!"
"I know, Dean," he said with a hint of irritation in his voice. "Like I said, it's hard to explain."
Standing up, Dean began his habitual pacing, trying to keep a lid on his anger over how messed up this situation had quickly become. "Dude, look, you're brainwashed or something. You and Chloe. I need to know what happened."
"I think you're right," he murmured, feeling tired once more. "I think they're using some form of mind control."
Dean saw Sam struggling to keep awake and moved over to him. Grabbing him by the shoulders, he yelled, "You need to stay awake, Sammy! Snap out of it!"
"Stop yelling, man... my head's killin' me."
Dean threatened in a low voice, "Want me to make your arm hurt along with that head? Help me out, dammit."
Before Sam had a chance to respond, real, intense pain blasted through his head and he clutched at it with one hand, scattered images flashing through his mind.
Dean managed to grab Sam before he hit the floor, hopelessly watching his brother writhe in pain. His cheek muscle worked as he knew there was nothing he could do when Sam was having a vision. All he could do was keep him still while it passed.
Pressing one hand to his forehead as it ended, Sam lay back against the bed in pain. "Aspirin," he whispered.
Wordlessly, Dean got up and ran to the bathroom, fumbling for the aspirin and a glass of water. Returning back to his brother, he reached down and handed both to him. He stayed silent as he waited for Sam to take the pills and compose himself once more.
Sam downed the aspirin quickly, wincing a little as he set the glass down. "I saw...some kind of...underground...place," he said, closing his eyes. "People were there..."
"People?" Dean repeated. "People you recognize?"
"No," he murmured, shaking his head a little. "But...there were several."
Shaking his head, Dean continued. "What does this underground place look like?" Anything to help them figure out where to go, he thought. But he knew for damn sure Sam and Chloe weren't going to get near that place again.
"I'm not sure, but...I think it's...somewhere beneath the church." An alarmed look settled on his face. "I think that's where they're taking these people...to program them."
"To brainwash them," Dean said flatly. He looked at Sam, whose eyes were dull with pain. "Dude, you okay?"
"Yeah." He winced again, resting his head on one hand. "The visions are getting more painful." His voice was quiet.
"I know," he replied in a low voice. "And they seem to happen more frequently." He pinched his nose with his fingers.
"It doesn't make any sense," he murmured, leaning back against the bed.
Moving to the wall, Dean leaned against it. "No, it really doesn't," he muttered. "So... this things' underneath the church. I wonder how I can sneak in and find out more about the place?"
"No." Sam shook his head. "You can't."
"Why the hell not, Sammy? I'm not letting you two back in there!" Dean raised his voice a little, just to emphasize his resolve.
"Because I don't think you can make it down there and come back," he said darkly, wincing as his head throbbed. "The place...it's heavily guarded."
"What? We talking semi-automatics and bouncer wannabees?" he replied lazily.
"More like a big demon with a lot of teeth and claws," he said grimly.
Straightening up, he said, "I *knew* there had to be something. I betcha we can kill the hell outta this thing... once we know what it is." He glanced over at Sam, who was watching him dubiously.
"That's not gonna solve the problem, Dean."
"Got any ideas, then, college boy?" he replied with a hard tone. "I don't think I can handle watching you and Chloe have a meltdown."
"Yeah, we can kill the demon, but they're just gonna conjure another one. We have to figure out a way to stop them." He sighed in frustration.
He knew Sam was right, though he was at a loss as to how they were going to do that. As much as he hated it, Sam and Chloe would probably have to investigate it more... without him. His shoulders slumped visibly and he leaned against the wall again, this time looking at his feet.
"We may need more help," he whispered.
"Got anyone in mind?"
"Yeah. But you're not gonna like it."
Grimacing, Dean knew what Sam was thinking and looked up, his eyes glittering with frustration. "Dude, you'd better now be talking about what I think you're thinking of doing."
"Dean, we need help. If this was a couple of people, hell even ten...we might be able to handle without outside influences, but we can't do this on our own. Not against this many people."
"How do you think it's gonna go over calling Ash or Ellen after... the last time we were there?" he asked in a low voice. That was one place he didn't want to go. Not when he knew their own father had led to Ellen's husband's death.
"Dude, I know how you feel. I do." Sam looked at him. "But this is...not like anything we've ever dealt with before."
Sighing in utter frustration, he replied, "I don't know if they'd even help."
"We don't have anything to lose by asking," he said quietly.
"Fine. You're gonna make the call, though." 'Ellen doesn't want to talk to me, that I know,' he thought to himself.
"All right," Sam agreed softly. "I'll call first thing in the morning."
"Fine," he said again, not looking at his brother. He scratched his head, wondering how things got so bad. How everything had fallen apart after Dad's death, Ellen blaming them for her husband's death... meeting Chloe and his feelings for her. It was too much for him to deal with. He needed to go out and hunt something. Now.
"Chloe okay?" he asked, shutting his eyes.
Frowning, Dean didn't look up. "I don't know, Sam. Not like she was really open or... coherent at this point."
He let out a breath. "We'll talk to her in the morning too," he murmured.
"Yeah." Without another word, he grabbed his jacket. "Get some sleep. I'll be back before dawn."
"Where you goin' man?"
"Out," he said cryptically. He shrugged into his jacket, making sure his gun was inside. He intended to get out of there and check out this church site. And nothing was going to stop him.