My Immortal (3/?)
Prologue | One | Two | Three | Four
My Immortal (Part Three)
“Okay, so explain something to me.” Chloe sat across from the two of them in a booth at Monical’s Pizza in a back corner of the restaurant.
“Shoot,” Sam responded with a small smile, no hesitation before he answered.
Dean glanced at him sideways, wondering if he should be concerned by how open Sam was being with the pretty blond from Smallville. Sure, he knew there was something different about her and felt an unexplained connection to her, but he didn’t know why, and they didn’t really know anything about her. That didn’t seem to be concerning his little brother though. He hadn’t seen Sam be this open with anyone before--ever.
“Why me?” Her voice was quiet, but inquisitive. “Out of all the people this Meg chick could have chosen, why me?” She shook her head.
“Probably cause you’re from Kansas.” Dean shrugged.
“I don’t think so. She knew me by name. Said that she was waiting for me specifically. But that doesn’t make any sense--I don’t know either of you, or your father or her.”
Sam was silent for a moment. “She’s right. Meg coulda picked anyone, but she singled out Chloe.”
Dean shifted uneasily, taking a drink of his beer and leaning back in the booth. “Well, that’s just great.”
“We need to figure out why.” Sam glanced at her, then at his brother.
“Yeah, how do we go about that exactly? Call Meg up on the phone and say ‘hey, guess we didn’t kill you after all. By the way, why drag some innocent girl into this whole mess?’”
Chloe rolled her eyes at his sarcasm, and shook her head a little. “Let’s figure out what we do know.” She pulled the small notebook from her pocket and looked at Sam. “Got a pen?”
He nodded and passed it over to her.
“We’re all from Kansas. We all have backgrounds dealing with weirdness that most people are afraid to think about, let alone deal with.” She jotted these things down on the paper. “What else?”
Sam and Dean exchanged a look, but she didn’t seem to notice, too absorbed in her own thoughts.
“What do we know about Meg? We know she can read minds. And that’s she’s evil and completely nuts. Did you say she was from Massachusetts?” She glanced at Sam, who nodded, and she jotted that down on another page. “And she’s very strong, and smart.” A wave of tiredness washed over her and she closed her eyes.
“Chloe? You okay?” Sam asked worriedly, studying her.
“Yeah, fine. Just tired,” she admitted.
“Well why don’t we head back to the hotel? We could probably all use the sleep.”
Dean nodded his agreement and pulled some money out, standing up.
Chloe did the same. “I have money,” she said, reaching into her pocket.
He touched her arm, shaking his head. “I got it.”
Chloe gazed at him. His eyes were so intense. There was something slightly unsettling about them--and not in a bad way. “Okay,” she murmured.
Dean offered her a small smile and paid their bill, leading the way out of the restaurant and toward the hotel.
* * *
Long after both of the brothers had fallen asleep, Chloe sat up, wide awake, unable to shut her mind off. In the bed across the room Dean slept with one arm slung over the side. Sam lay curled up in the small chair, a blanket over him as he rested in one of the most uncomfortable positions Chloe could fathom sleeping in. He hadn’t hesitated offering to let her have the bed--in fact, he’d insisted. She’d reluctantly agreed only because she sensed he wasn’t going to take no for an answer.
It was weird sharing a motel room with two guys she barely knew, but somehow she knew with certainty she wasn’t in any danger from either of them. On the contrary--she felt quite safe around them both, and she didn’t understand why. She chalked it up to just being another part of the whole odd experience. Casting a glance at both of them, she reached out and picked up her cell phone off the nightstand.
Sliding quietly out of bed, she headed into the small bathroom and dialed Clark’s cell number, hoping he’d answer.
A moment later, she heard his worried voice. “Chloe?”
“Clark, it’s me.”
“Chloe, where are you? Are you all right? We’ve been looking everywhere for you!”
“I’m fine,” she said, keeping her voice low so she didn’t disturb her roommates. “Long story short, I was kidnapped, but I’m not anymore.”
There was a pause. “What?”
She quickly filled him in on Meg, and the two strangers who’d saved her life.
“And you’re sharing a motel room with these guys?” he asked, stunned.
“Not like that,” she said wryly, rolling her eyes. “You know me better than that, Clark. Look, they know about this particular brand of weirdness, so I’m helping them out and trying to figure out what’s going on.”
“Are you sure you’re all right? Where are you? I’ll be right there to help.”
“Actually, I think we’re okay for now. But if you can somehow locate my car, I’d be grateful,” she said lightly.
“I’ll do what I can. Are you sure you don’t need me?”
She paused. “I’m okay, Clark. Really. I promise.” She heard him sigh softly into the phone.
“All right. Keep me updated and if you get into any trouble, call me, okay?”
Chloe smiled a bit. “Will do. Bye, Clark.”
“Bye, Chloe.”
She hung up her phone and quietly slipped out of the bathroom once more, just in time to see Sam’s head tossing back and forth as if in the midst of a horrible nightmare.
Chloe didn’t hesitate moving to his side and resting a hand on his arm. “Sam?” she whispered worriedly.
He awoke with a start, breathing heavily and looking frightened.
“Hey, are you all right?” she asked, a wave of protectiveness she couldn’t comprehend washing over her.
Sam swallowed hard and sat up, moving the blanket off of him and shuddering involuntarily. “Nightmare.”
She kept her hand on his arm. “You know, sometimes it helps to talk about it,” she said gently.
He slowly turned his head to gaze at her. “I have them a lot,” he admitted.
Chloe nodded slightly. “Yeah, I’m sure, considering what you guys do. It must be really hard to get a goodnight’s sleep.”
At that moment, Dean’s snoring got a little louder and Sam smirked. “For some of us.”
She chuckled softly, then grew serious once more. “So these dreams you have…are they about anything specific?” Her tone was gentle, not intrusive at all.
He closed his eyes, resting his head in his hands. “My girlfriend…my…she was my girlfriend.” There was sorrow in his voice.
“Oh, Sam,” she whispered, sitting down on the arm of the chair. “I’m so sorry.” She rested a hand on his back.
“Her name was Jessica. Jessica Moore. We’d…been dating for two years.” He paused. “On Halloween…Dean came to get me because our dad was missing. When I got back, I went upstairs…I thought Jess was in the shower. But when I laid down…”
Chloe swallowed hard, dread washing over her in anticipation of what he was about to tell her.
“Chloe, it was horrible,” he whispered, his voice strained. “She was pinned to the ceiling. And then…there was fire everywhere...”
All the air left her lungs. “Oh, God,” she whispered, pulling him into her arms. He cried softly, leaning against her as she rubbed his back in an attempt to comfort him, kissing his forehead without thinking about it. “It’s okay,” she whispered. “It’s all right.”
Neither of them were aware that from across the room, Dean was watching them intently.
* * *
“We need to talk.”
Chloe looked up from where she was writing in her notebook to see Dean standing over her, his expression neutral. Her eyebrows furrowed a little and she looked over at where Sam lay sleeping peacefully in her vacated bed. She nodded a little and stood up, following him out of the room and out to the Impala, where he sat down on the hood, gazing at her.
“So…what’s up?” she asked uneasily.
“That’s what I’d like to know.” He folded his arms across his chest, studying her. “I woke up last night to hear Sam telling you all about Jessica and our family.”
“Oh.” Her voice was quiet and she hesitantly sat down beside him. “I guess he just needed to talk.”
“See, that’s the thing. My brother doesn’t talk to anyone--not even me.”
“Sometimes it’s easier to talk to a stranger about what’s going on that it is to talk to the people close to you,” Chloe said softly.
“That’s the problem, Chloe.” He glanced at her sideways. “You don’t seem like a stranger to me. Or to Sam. Who are you?”
She frowned and looked at him. “Chloe Sullivan, Met U journalism student. Just like I told you.”
Dean sighed and looked away. “And we’ve never met before. So why the hell do you seem so damn familiar?”
Chloe was silent for a moment. “I don’t know, but…I feel it too,” she admitted almost inaudibly.
He turned to look at her once more, gazing at her intently. She slowly met his gaze. Then his eyes dropped to her lips and she felt her heart skip a beat. Slowly, he reached out and touched her cheek with one hand. Her eyes drifted shut as she leaned into his touch. And then she felt his lips brush over hers lightly.
Unable to stop herself, she slid her arms around his neck and returned the pressure, deepening the kiss as he pulled her closer. After a moment he leaned his forehead against hers. “I been wanting to do that since yesterday.”
A faint smile touched her lips. “Me too.”