Two Guys, a Girl and a Chevy Impala: The Demons We Hide: Chapter Two
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.
Two
It took nearly everything Sam had to knock on the connecting door to Chloe's room. The second he'd gotten back from his walk, Dean had demanded that he talk to Chloe. All because she'd wanted to talk to him.
Sam wondered at the insanity that was his brother, Dean Winchester. Especially with this girl. Sam still didn't entirely trust her, but he supposed it was fair to hear her out. Besides, he had a small supply of salt to line the connecting door with in case she turned out to be a demon. Knocking loudly, he glanced at Dean, who was watching television, and waited for Chloe to answer.
A moment later, Chloe opened the door, looking worn out but yet still very much awake. "Hey, Sam," she said softly. "Come on in."
Hesitating for a moment, he stepped across the divide into her room. "Hey," he said, not looking at her. "Dean said you wanted to talk?"
She nodded slightly, shutting the door and leaning against it. "I'm not sure what happened earlier with you guys, but...I sorta feel like it was...partially because of me."
Rubbing his nose with two fingers, Sam sighed in frustration. "I hope our screaming and me knocking Dean on his ass didn't upset you too much. Happens all the time." He glanced up at her warily, not sure what to make of this really short, blonde chick that his brother seemed attracted to.
"Well that's reassuring." She offered him a faint smile. She was quiet for a moment. "I understand why you don't want me to come along."
Frowning, Sam replied, "It's not you, Chloe. I swear. I... I mean... it's just that... enough people have gotten hurt in our paths. I didn't want to add to the body count." He thought fleetingly of his lost Jessica, though only his eyes showed his dark thoughts.
Her eyes were almost as dark with sadness as his. "It's okay. I know it's not personal."
Her small, hurt voice made him regret everything he'd said to Dean. Well, almost, anyway. "Hunting is... dangerous, Chloe. Deadly. It's not all research and stuff; more times than not, one of us ends up with something broken or bloody." He looked up and stared at her, his eyes intense with the memories of everything they've fought and killed.
She held up a hand. "Trust me when I say I understand." There was a grimness in her voice that spoke volumes. She tucked some hair behind her ear and headed toward the closet.
Sam was clearly confused. Watching her with steady eyes, he asked, "You wanna elaborate on that? You don't look like the type to get down and dirty in demon goo."
As she pulled her bags from the closet and moved over to the desk where her computer was set up, she glanced at him sideways. "Let's just say there's plenty of danger where I've been living the past few years."
His curiosity got the better of him. "Where are you from?" he asked. "Aside from just Kansas?"
"Originally from Metropolis," she told him. "But...in more recent years, a little town called Smallville."
"Oh yeah, I've heard lots of... interesting things about Smallville," Sam said, stifling a laugh. He knew too much about that place to stay away from it unless... He grimaced as he thought about his father. As if he needed to go there. Again. "I... imagine you've seen some weird stuff," he said, trying to keep his tone light.
"Seen weird stuff, been possessed by weird stuff, had weird stuff try to murder me. The usual." She shrugged, not looking at him as she slid her laptop into her bag.
Sam smiled this time. Her matter-of-fact tone told him she wasn't the kind of person who was afraid of the things he and Dean hunted on a regular basis. And he guessed that based on the wear and tear on her laptop, Chloe used it. A lot. "I take it you like surfing the web?" he asked.
She chuckled. "That's one way to put it." She finally turned to look at him once more. "I'm a reporter. Sort of." Chloe shrugged. "I do a lot of research."
"Really?" he asked, sounding a little surprised. She didn't look old enough to be a reporter. "Where did you work?"
Something in her expression darkened. "The Daily Planet. I was interning there. But it wasn't the first time." She turned away once more, zipping up her bag, her hands shaking slightly.
Awareness dawned on him. "I bet you worked on your high school paper, too, didn't you?" he asked, sensing the change in her mood but unsure how to broach the subject.
"I did," she confirmed. "The Torch."
Sam just nodded, taking a couple steps to get out of her way. "It'll be nice to have someone to help me researching our hunts. Dean thinks Google is something you do to women." He smirked.
She almost dropped her bag, but she wasn't sure which startled her more: the fact that he was now seeming to accept the idea of her tagging along, or the fact someone on the planet didn't know what Google was.
Sam laughed at her reaction. "It's okay, Chloe. Dean's good at other things I don't have a clue about." His laughter died and he became serious again. "You're okay, you know that? I just... don't want you to get hurt because you happen to be tagging along with us."
She smiled faintly. "I appreciate that. But I figure...if I managed to survive all these years of meteor freak attacks...well." Chloe shrugged a little.
Nodding, Sam replied, "I'm going to hold you to that, because if you're gonna stay with us, things might get hairy... and I'm not just talking about Dean's sense of humor, either."
She smirked. "You're talking about yours, too?" she teased.
Holding up his hands in mock surrender, he said, "Hey, not talking about me, here." He grinned at her, though, accepting that they had a third traveling buddy. And it was going to be fun watching she and Dean verbally spar with each other, he thought.
Chloe offered him a real smile. "We should probably get some sleep." As if, she thought.
"We should... though I doubt I'm gonna sleep." Sam yawned, nevertheless. He started for the connecting door, then stopped. Pulling his small bag of salt out, he threw it to her. "Here, take this and pour is behind the front door of your room."
She lifted an eyebrow. "Are you expecting some kind of ghost to show up tonight?"
Grinning, Sam replied, "No, but you never know when a demon might try to break in. The salt line keeps them from entering the room. Trust me; it's always handy to keep some on you."
"Good to know." She smiled and glanced down at the bag as after he headed into his own room. Shaking her head a little, she moved to the door and poured the line of salt across the entrance. Then almost chuckled. She wondered if it kept out big dumb aliens, too.
&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&
Dean drove the Impala hard the next day, trying to make up for the time lost in driving away from their job in Topeka, Kansas. And though the dust seemed to have settled between Chloe and Sam, the ride had been, nevertheless, very quiet and a little intense. The closer they got to the Kansas state line, the more worried Chloe became. Dean had been staring at her through the rearview mirror all day, his look becoming dark.
"Dude, will you just drive the car and... stop?" Sam asked, giving Dean a knowing look.
Clearing his throat, Dean looked again at Chloe. "You okay back there?"
Blinking slowly she turned to meet his gaze in the rearview. "Fine," she murmured before looking back out the window once more and falling silent again.
"Yeah, you said that the LAST time I asked you," he pointed out.
Shaking his head, Sam shifted his body so that he could look at Chloe from the front seat. "Don't mind my brother. He gets cranky when he hasn't had his morning cup of coffee."
A faint smile touched her lips. "Can't say I blame him. God knows I need a couple lattes before I'm fully awake."
"A latte, huh?" Dean asked, grinning faintly. "Give me plain, straight up, black coffee any day. None of that fancy girlie stuff." He grunted, wishing they were ten miles closer to the nearest quick stop for that much needed cup of coffee.
"That girlie stuff got me outta bed and kept me awake from 3 in the morning til midnights when I needed it to," she informed him.
Dean snorted. "Of course it did. Look at all the sugar, caffeine, carbs --"
"Yeah, this coming from the guy who can wolf down a triple cheeseburger in exactly one minute," Sam interrupted him, throwing Dean a warning look.
"What? I'm just saying," Dean protested.
Chloe smirked, momentarily pulled from her dark mood by the snarking. "You drink coffee, Sam?"
Sam smiled. "Only when I have to. Late night study sessions, cramming for finals... well, during college, anyways." He looked down and was quiet for a moment.
Her own face fell a little and she looked back out the window. "Yeah," she murmured.
"And the awkwardness comes back," Dean muttered under his breath as he reached for the radio to turn it on.
"How close are we to Topeka?" Sam asked, trying to find something to talk about.
"Oh, probably another 400 miles," Dean replied, taking another quick look at Chloe in the rearview mirror, his face serious.
"Great," she murmured inaudibly, swallowing hard.
Sam watched Chloe fall back into herself and looked over at Dean. His serious look said pull over ASAP.
Nodding, Dean sped towards the gas station just over the horizon. Once they came to a screeching halt, Sam got out of the car. "I'll gas up. Chloe, need anything?"
"Coffee," she said softly, climbing out of the backseat.
"Okay," Sam said, going to the back of the car to pump the gas.
"Hang on a sec, Chloe," Dean replied, hoping she'd stay in the car with him.
She glanced back at him. "Yeah?"
"I've noticed you've been really, REALLY quiet the last couple hundred miles," Dean said, just getting to the point. "What gives?" He couldn't go into a job worrying about whether she was okay or not.
She shrugged. "Just haven't felt like talking."
Crossing his arms, he leaned back and looked at her pale face. "Uh huh," he said, clearly not believing her. Whatever it was that made her bolt was in Kansas. But he wanted to hear her say that.
She simply gazed back at him with an emotionless expression on her face.
"Not going to tell me?" he asked, a note of resignation in his voice. "Okay, but if you try to jump out the window at the state line, I'm not going to try to stop you." He opened the door and started to get out.
"I'm not suicidal," she told him, turning and heading for the station to get herself some coffee.
"Could've fooled me," he mumbled, watching her walk away. He moved to Sam, who was still pumping the gas and frowned. "Dude, you able to get anything from her about why she's on the run last night?"
He let out a breath, glancing at his brother and then watching her disappear into the station. "Not really. Just that she's originally from Metropolis, been living in Smallville for awhile...and she's a reporter." He paused.
"Reporter, huh?" Dean replied, his eyes still on the gas station door. "You think she's on the run because of some news story or something? Like she was interviewing the Mafia and it got too hot for her?"
Sam made a face. "I don't think so. But she does seem to know a lot about some weird stuff...which goes with the territory of living in Smallville, I guess. Said she's seen, been possessed and almost murdered by numerous 'meteor freaks.'"
"Huh." Dean had heard of these so-called mutant people who had been changed somehow by the events of the two meteor showers that had hit Smallville, but he still couldn't imagine Chloe being involved in all of that.
"Pretty sure she was telling the truth. The look on her face..." He shook his head.
"You mean the deer in headlights look she gets every time one of us mentions where she's from, what she's going... what she's running from?" he asked thoughtfully, puzzled more by her behavior than by the job they needed to focus on.
"That would be the one," Sam confirmed, gazing at his brother.
"Got any ideas about how to get her to... talk?" Dean asked. "Open up, chit-chat... whatever it is that makes women feel better when they've got something on their minds?" He smiled ruefully. He couldn't believe he was asking his little brother advice on women.
Sam almost laughed. "Somehow I don't think she's gonna open up as easily as some would," he admitted.
"Wonderful," he replied sarcastically. "Guess I might have to beat it out of her, then, because... her silence is as fun as nails on a chalkboard." He scratched his head, absolutely befuddled.
"Or maybe you just...relax and let her tell us when she's ready. It's not like we've been overly sharing with her," Sam pointed out.
"I hate it when you're right," he grumbled, watching Chloe come out of the gas station, large cup of coffee in hand, her eyes down and lost in thought.
"I'll go pay and get some coffee myself," he said to Sam, walking around the other side of the gas pumps so Chloe wouldn't be forced to talk to him again.
Sighing, Sam watched his brother go, and shook his head.
Chloe offered Sam a faint smile before climbing back into the car once more, slowly sipping the coffee she'd gotten. It was pretty much horrid, but it'd have to do.
"How's the coffee?" Sam asked, peeking his head in to look at Chloe.
"About like you'd expect coffee from a gas station to taste," she said with a grim smile.
"Oh good. That'll put Dean in a rare mood," he replied, straightening up and walking into the gas station for a cup himself, since it was his turn to drive.
It didn't take Dean long to pay for the gas and a cup of their stagnant yet strong cup of coffee and pile into the passenger seat to wait for Sam. He didn't dare look at Chloe, though he couldn't stop thinking about why she was with them instead of being the reporter she'd claimed to be. Still, it was a better train of thought than thinking about how much he hated Dad for dying on them, he thought to himself.
"This is the worst coffee ever," she said, her voice light. She wanted to let him know in a nonchalant way that she wasn't upset with him, she just wasn't ready to talk yet.
Taking a long sip and watching Sam make his way back to the Impala, Dean replied, "Yeah, puts hair on your chest." He turned his head and threw her a small, flirtatious smile.
She almost choked on her drink. "Well in that case you should probably take my share."
Dean's smile widened. "Why? Maybe I like my women hairy." He turned around as Sam got into the car.
Chloe made a face and momentarily considered dumping the rest of the coffee on his head. Too bad she liked the car.
Taking one look at Chloe's face, Sam slid into the driver's seat and looked at his brother. "Dude, you're about to get coffee on your head. What'd you do now?"
Dean looked at Sam innocently. "What'd I do?" he asked with a small smirk on his face.
&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&
Chloe sat in the booth across from the brothers, reading over the articles they'd given her. "So we're looking for the people who've mysteriously vanished?"
"Yep," Dean replied, throwing her a flirtatious smile as he watched her read. It was nice to stretch out and face her for a change.
Rolling his eyes at his brother's casual attitude, Sam continued. "Apparently the disappearances have all occurred within three weeks of each other." Getting out the laptop, he booted it up and hit Google to search for patterns in the seemingly random vanishings.
"Hmm." She reread each of the articles twice more before laying them out on the table, not noticing the grin on Dean's face. "So other than the fact they live in Topeka...there's nothing connecting them at all?" She raised her eyebrows and looked at Sam for confirmation.
Sam frowned at the information he found online. "Doesn't seem to be," he replied with an even tone. "The victim's addresses are scattered throughout the city, although..." He whirled the laptop around and shoved it in Chloe's direction. "Notice where the victim's addresses are kinda close?"
She nodded slightly. "We should see if we can find anything at their houses that the cops may have missed."
"Definitely," Sam replied, smiling at her slightly as he look back the laptop and closed it.
"Can't go yet," Dean said, listening to everything they'd been saying, though he dug into the burger still sitting on his plate. "I'm not done eating yet. Besides, the disappearing act could just be that: an act."
"Perpetrated by five different victims." She gave him a look.
Dean returned that look with one of his own. "It's not unlike that shape shifter that went on that killing spree back in St. Louis. You remember it, Sam." He nudged his brother, but Sam merely looked at him and shook his head.
"Well, you're the one who insisted we come back to Kansas, so I'm assuming you think something's up," she replied, folding her arms on the table.
"Because that's what we do. We go where the jobs are," he replied, casually wiping his mouth. "But a man can't work on an empty stomach, so it was wait five minutes."
Shaking his head, Sam whispered, "Sure got your priorities straight, haven't ya?" Grabbing the laptop, he stood up.
Chloe watched Sam head out of the diner and walk toward the Impala. She looked back at Dean with raised eyebrows. "Nice job," she said with a faint smirk.
Eating the last of his burger, he looked at her, his eyes darkening with some emotion he didn't want to acknowledge. "Yep, I sure try," he smirked, pulling out his wallet and putting the money for the bill on the table. There used to be a time when Sam wouldn't take his snarky remarks so personally, but that was before...
He shook his head lightly, forcing those thoughts back as he stood up.
"Are we done here now?" she asked, a hint of mocking in her tone, a smirk on her face.
"It's never done," he told her cryptically, the dark look remaining. "But yeah, why else would I be standing, waiting for you?" Though his last comment was made with a lazy grin, his eyes remained untouched with brightness.
Chloe noticed, but said nothing of it. "Then let's go."
By the time Dean had followed Chloe out of the diner, Sam was in the driver's seat, his laptop open, his hands furiously clicking over the keys. His brow was furrowed in an intense stare. "Dude, get out of the driver's seat. I'm driving," Dean muttered, opening the door and motioning for Sam to scoot over.
Without looking at him, Sam moved out of the way. "Make sure Chloe gets in behind you," he said matter-of-factly.
Though he could have gone somewhere crass with that comment, Dean let it slide as he let Chloe get into the back before getting in himself.
"Which house we heading to first?" she asked, glancing at Sam as she fastened her seatbelt.
"1525 Roseland Avenue," he replied, staring at the map on the laptop. "It's where the first disappearance occurred."
Dean immediately started the Impala and sped out of the diner parking lot. "Roseland... isn't that near the downtown area?" he asked while they drove.
Sam nodded wordlessly, still a little irritated with his brother. How he could remain so nonchalant about everything at this time, he never could figure out.
Chloe's gaze remained on Sam for a moment, sensing something wasn't quite right, but not able to put her finger on it for the time being. "That was Dana Richards, right?" she asked, recalling the woman's name from the first article.
"Yeah. 28 years old. Single female, lived alone."
Dean chuckled a little. "You make it sound like she's looking for a date."
Sam turned and glared at his brother. "No, dude, I'm trying to give you the information necessary to find HER. You know that. Why are you being such an ass about this?" His voice was hard and distant.
Dean's cheek tensed with anger, but he remained silent. Trust Sam to bring up his best defense mechanism.
"Guys. This isn't helping." Chloe's voice was soft. "All right. The other victims ranged in ages from 18 to 32...two more women, and two men. All white, single. The 18 year old still lived at home, though."
"Aside from him, the others had something in common," Dean replied, his tone not betraying his anger and ignoring Chloe's remark. "They're all young, single, living alone. Except the kid, of course."
"You think maybe this is a cult of some kind?" Sam asked out loud, the idea coming to him in a flash. Literally. He suddenly slumped over in pain as images began shooting through his mind.
Noticing the change in Sam, Dean immediately pulled over. "Dude, what is it?" he asked in a worried tone.
"Sam?" There was worry in Chloe's voice and she reached out and placed a hand on his shoulder. "What's happening?" she asked Dean.
"He's having a vision," Dean replied, not taking his eyes off Sam, who was convulsing.
As the pain subsided, Sam squinted with the massive headache he felt. "Oh God," he whispered, his face filled with pain.
"A vision," she murmured inaudibly. She kept her hand on his shoulder, not sure of what to do.
"It's a -- nevermind, I'll tell you later," Dean replied with a hiss, leaning over to Sam. "Sammy, what'd you see? You okay?"
"I would be if you give me a second to recover," Sam retorted, sitting up and breathing in deeply. "I saw... a woman..."
Chloe remained silent, feeling out of place as she bit down on her lower lip, waiting for Sam to continue.
Pinching his nose with two fingers, he said, "She's... there's something wrong with her."
"What?" Dean prompted softly.
"She's running from her apartment... something's after her..." Sam tried to get a good look at who or what was after the woman, but he couldn't. "Dammit," he sighed softly. "I think it's in the same apartment complex as Dana Richards."
Chloe leaned back in the seat, her mind turning over his words. Sam Winchester...was some kind of psychic.
The look on Chloe's face didn't escape Dean's notice, but he couldn't deal with that. Not right now. "Dude, you get an idea on her apartment number?"
"Uh... it was on the first floor," Sam replied. "She didn't go down any steps." He straightened up, his headache subsiding, his gaze deliberately avoiding Chloe's.
"That's good," Dean said, straightening himself and putting the car into drive. "Hopefully we'll get there in time to warn her. Maybe get some answers."
Remaining silent for the rest of the drive, Chloe climbed out of the backseat quietly when Dean stopped the Impala. Looking up at the apartment building, she let out a breath, feeling uneasy.
"Is this it?" Dean asked, looking sideways at Sam.
He nodded in response. "Look, you and Chloe go look for Dana Richard's apartment, and I'll try to find the girl in my... vision." He didn't dare look at Chloe since he didn't want to see the look on his face.
Throwing him a look, Dean said, "Looks like it's you and me, Chloe." He got out of the Impala to let her out.
She glanced at him sideways, then watched Sam head away. "He okay?" she asked, soft concern in her voice.
What a loaded question, Dean said to himself as he watched her get out of the car. "Yeah, he's fine," he simply said, then took off towards the front entrance. "What apartment did this chick Dana live in?"
Letting it go for now, Chloe glanced up. "Apartment 22 B."
Nodding, Dean led her into the front and managed to sneak past the guard on duty, an oversized cop who was taking his afternoon nap, Dean surmised. Taking the flight of stairs, they soon stood at 22 B, where Dean knelt down and started picking the lock.
She glanced down at him with a raised eyebrow, then shook her head a little as she pulled a small object from her purse. "Here. Try this instead," she said, handing him a paperclip.
Taking it from her, he looked at her uncertainly. "You telling me you can pick locks?"
"There's a whole lot I can do you don't know about," she informed him.
"Remind me to ask you about that sometime," he mumbled, using the paperclip to successfully pick the apartment door. Standing, he grabbed the doorknob and opened it.
She glanced around then quickly ducked inside behind him, flipping on the light and locking the door. The place certainly didn't give off any kind of bad vibes. Heading toward the kitchen, she watched as Dean went in the opposite direction.
The first place Dean went to was the bedroom. Stands to reason that if this chick disappeared on her own, she would have taken luggage with her. However, after a thorough perusal of the room, Dean found nothing unusual. Everything seemed to be in its place: no hangers strewn around or drawers pulled out. Even the suitcases were in the closet. Frowning, Dean left that room, heading for the living room.
Chloe found a stack of mail lying on the kitchen table, unopened. Phone bill, rent bill, cable bill, unopened church newsletter. Her eyebrows furrowing as she shifted through it, she took note of the date. Exactly two weeks ago on each. The same day she'd reportedly disappeared. Interesting.
Finding nothing in the living room that seemed out of place, Dean headed into the kitchen, where he saw Chloe standing with a curious look on her face. Not unlike Sam's when he thinks he's onto something. "You've found something," he remarked.
"She brought her mail in the day she disappeared."
Dean frowned as she showed him the postmarked dates on the bills. "So she was in here." He turned and looked around the room. "No sign of a break-in or struggle. Everything's... perfect." And that bothered him to no end.
"Maybe she just left." Her voice was quiet and she didn't meet his gaze as it occurred to her she'd done the very same thing.
"No, I don't think so," he replied, staring at her, though she wouldn't look at him. "Clothes are all hung in her closet, suitcases are in there as well. And look." He walked over to the edge of the kitchen and grabbed the set of keys off the key rack. "Looks like this is her apartment keys, car keys."
"So what's your theory?" Her eyebrows furrowed a little. "I mean, it doesn't seem like a kidnapping, either."
"No, it doesn't," he replied solemnly, looking around the room and starting to pace a little. "At this point, I have no theory. It could be anything from possession to a cult thing, like Sam had mentioned in the car."
Scratching his head, he looked perplexed and started wondering where his brother was.
"Maybe we should go find Sam."
"Okay, you have GOT to stop doing that," Dean replied, stopping and turning to look at her. "It's getting creepy."
Her eyebrows furrowed. "I'm sorry?"
"The whole 'speak what Dean's thinking' thing," he replied, feeling more than a little creeped out at the moment. "That's not the first time you've done that, you know."
"It's...not?" Chloe looked at him with a raised eyebrow.
Sighing and turning away from her, he replied, "Never mind. We really should go and find Sam." He turned and headed for the hallway.
Watching him go, she sighed very softly and then followed, locking and closing the door behind her.
Dean felt that something was wrong with her. And it probably had to do with either him or Sam, he wasn't sure which. Pausing at the stairwell door, he turned suddenly and said, "What's your theory?"
"Not sure I have one yet," she admitted. "There wasn't a lot to go on. We should check out the other victims' homes."
Nodding, Dean turned back and started to twist the handle. Then turned back to her again. "Sam's got powers, okay?"
"I figured that out already," Chloe said softly, meeting his gaze.
"Don't be too worried about him, okay?" he said softly. "He gets intense about certain hunts, that's all." He opened the stairwell door and let her pass. The faint scent of Chloe's shampoo filled his nostrils, and he was briefly distracted by that smell.
She turned to look at him as she moved past. "But he's all right? That...vision looked...painful."
"Huh?" he said, her voice breaking through his reverie. "They're not all like that. Though...." He hesitated as she walked through the door and he followed, shutting it behind him.
"They've gotten worse since he started having them?" she guessed.
Dean said nothing, just nodded silently as they made their way downstairs. "It's actually a long story, Sammy's visions." And not one he wanted to tell her about at that time. His dark eyes pierced hers, boring holes into her head. And again, those green eyes threatened to overcome him.
"I'm sure it is," Chloe said softly, holding his gaze. Not sure why, she reached out and touched his arm lightly. "We should...find him."
Her touch nearly made him jump; the electricity of her fingers on his arm almost scared him. "Yeah," he said, turning his head quickly and stepping away so she couldn't see the look in his eyes. He started down the stairs to the first floor.
Her green eyes dark, she slowly followed him, sensing something was off with him, but knowing he wasn't going to share anytime soon. Not that she could blame him. It wasn't like she'd been very forthcoming with information on her own life. They barely knew each other. As they reached the first floor, she spotted Sam down the hallway.
Sam stood out in the middle of the hallway, near the end of the hall, his face downtrodden and worried. That look alone told Dean that not only had he found the apartment from his vision, but the girl in question was, in fact, gone. "Sam," he said quietly as he walked up to him.
"She's gone," Sam replied, not looking up at Dean. "By the time I found the place... she was..." His face drew inward, so he couldn't finish his words.
"Is the apartment...normal?" Chloe asked after a moment's hesitation, feeling like she was intruding on something that was none of her business. "Or did it look like it's been ransacked?"
Sam looked up at Chloe, a little startled. "No, it looked normal," he said quietly.
"It was the same with Dana Richard's apartment," Dean said quietly, sneaking a look at Chloe.
"So someone's chasing these people out of their apartments," Sam concluded, thinking about the flashes he'd had in the car. "Why?"
"Let's check out this other girl's apartment," she suggested softly, heading toward the door he'd come away from.
Sam looked at her curiously. "Why? What did you find in the other apartment?" He indicated the girl's apartment, 14A, with his hand.
"Nothing, really," she admitted. "We probably won't find anything, but..." She shrugged a little, kneeling down and quickly picking the lock with the same paperclip she'd let Dean use earlier.
Sam watched with some amusement that Chloe could pick a lock better than his brother could. He leaned in to Dean. "Did you know she could do that?"
Dean, staring in near wonder, replied, "Hell no, I didn't know. Should have thought about it, considering I used THAT to pick the lock." He pointed at the paperclip she put back into her purse as she opened the door.
Bemused, the Winchester boys entered the apartment behind Chloe, wondering what other illegal activities she knew about.
She flipped the light on, not expecting to find much of anything that would help them out. Moving into the apartment, she paused as she saw a stack of mail on the kitchen table. An eerie sense of deja vu washed over her as she picked up the unopened envelopes and began to flip through them, unaware of the guys.
"What'd you find?" Dean asked, feeling like he'd done all this before. In the other apartment. The stack of mail on the table, he realized quickly.
"Huh." Chloe leaned against the table, removing one piece of mail and setting the rest back down. "This is the same church newsletter that was in Dana's apartment." Not hesitating, she broke the seal and opened it.
Seeing her drop the envelope onto the table, Sam picked it up and read the return address. "Woodsboro Baptist Church. Huh. Maybe they both went to the same church?" He asked, puzzled but suddenly nervous.
"Something about this place..." She read over the first page of the newsletter. "God, I'm an idiot." She rolled her eyes in disgust, her fingers tightening around the newsletter slightly in annoyance.
"What is it?" Dean asked again, trying to take the paper from her hands. Unfortunately, her grip was so tight that he nearly rendered the thing in two. "Chloe..."
"Woodsboro Baptist Church. You guys heard of it?" There was anger in her eyes as she turned to look at them.
"Woodsboro Ba-" Dean began, then stopping as he realized what they were dealing with. Humans, acting like morons. "Dammit," he whispered, looking over at Sam.
"I was right, wasn't I?" Sam asked slowly. "They're a cult."
Her jaw was tense. "They go around and they protest at funerals of dead soldiers," she said angrily, recalling how they'd done just that at Whitney's funeral a few years ago.
Sam shook his head in disbelief. "Why would anyone want to do that?" he asked quietly, wondering whether these people who were missing had, in fact, just taken it upon themselves to leave because this... "church"... told them to. But it didn't explain the thing he saw in his vision...
"I'm thinking you've had a run-in with them," Dean said slowly, looking at Chloe's angry face and wondering if she had known a soldier.
"Unfortunately." She couldn't keep the bitterness out of her tone. "The sick part is it's within their legal rights to protest." She looked at Sam. "Apparently it's all because in the United States we allow homosexual people to have basic human rights instead of stringing them up and having them killed for being who they are."
"And these people believe we as a country are probably going to hell because of that," Sam replied, looking at her, seeing the unrest in her eyes. "So if we're dealing with... well, should I say people?... then what was that thing I saw chasing the girl out of her apartment?"
"You know these cultist groups," Dean replied, his face grave. "For all we know, they've used their message as an excuse to raise some spirit to help them exact revenge." His eyes darkened at Chloe's barely contained rage. This was quickly becoming personal for her, and that could prove a liability if she wasn't careful. "Let's get outta here and find a place to hunker down."
Tucking the newsletter into her purse, she headed out the door without waiting for either of them, her mind on the day of Whitney's burial.
Dean and Sam left the apartment, shutting the door behind them quietly, so as not to arouse suspicion. They were both silent as they followed Chloe to the car. Once they got in, Dean started the Impala and said, "There's a hotel about a mile from here."
"Sounds fine to me," Sam replied, staring out the window, lost in thought.
Chloe didn't reply, her entire body tense and her breathing slightly uneven as she stared out the window, as well. She wasn't sure exactly how they were accomplishing it, but this so-called church was behind the disappearances of these individuals. She could feel it in every bone in her body. She just had to find a way to prove it.
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.
Two
It took nearly everything Sam had to knock on the connecting door to Chloe's room. The second he'd gotten back from his walk, Dean had demanded that he talk to Chloe. All because she'd wanted to talk to him.
Sam wondered at the insanity that was his brother, Dean Winchester. Especially with this girl. Sam still didn't entirely trust her, but he supposed it was fair to hear her out. Besides, he had a small supply of salt to line the connecting door with in case she turned out to be a demon. Knocking loudly, he glanced at Dean, who was watching television, and waited for Chloe to answer.
A moment later, Chloe opened the door, looking worn out but yet still very much awake. "Hey, Sam," she said softly. "Come on in."
Hesitating for a moment, he stepped across the divide into her room. "Hey," he said, not looking at her. "Dean said you wanted to talk?"
She nodded slightly, shutting the door and leaning against it. "I'm not sure what happened earlier with you guys, but...I sorta feel like it was...partially because of me."
Rubbing his nose with two fingers, Sam sighed in frustration. "I hope our screaming and me knocking Dean on his ass didn't upset you too much. Happens all the time." He glanced up at her warily, not sure what to make of this really short, blonde chick that his brother seemed attracted to.
"Well that's reassuring." She offered him a faint smile. She was quiet for a moment. "I understand why you don't want me to come along."
Frowning, Sam replied, "It's not you, Chloe. I swear. I... I mean... it's just that... enough people have gotten hurt in our paths. I didn't want to add to the body count." He thought fleetingly of his lost Jessica, though only his eyes showed his dark thoughts.
Her eyes were almost as dark with sadness as his. "It's okay. I know it's not personal."
Her small, hurt voice made him regret everything he'd said to Dean. Well, almost, anyway. "Hunting is... dangerous, Chloe. Deadly. It's not all research and stuff; more times than not, one of us ends up with something broken or bloody." He looked up and stared at her, his eyes intense with the memories of everything they've fought and killed.
She held up a hand. "Trust me when I say I understand." There was a grimness in her voice that spoke volumes. She tucked some hair behind her ear and headed toward the closet.
Sam was clearly confused. Watching her with steady eyes, he asked, "You wanna elaborate on that? You don't look like the type to get down and dirty in demon goo."
As she pulled her bags from the closet and moved over to the desk where her computer was set up, she glanced at him sideways. "Let's just say there's plenty of danger where I've been living the past few years."
His curiosity got the better of him. "Where are you from?" he asked. "Aside from just Kansas?"
"Originally from Metropolis," she told him. "But...in more recent years, a little town called Smallville."
"Oh yeah, I've heard lots of... interesting things about Smallville," Sam said, stifling a laugh. He knew too much about that place to stay away from it unless... He grimaced as he thought about his father. As if he needed to go there. Again. "I... imagine you've seen some weird stuff," he said, trying to keep his tone light.
"Seen weird stuff, been possessed by weird stuff, had weird stuff try to murder me. The usual." She shrugged, not looking at him as she slid her laptop into her bag.
Sam smiled this time. Her matter-of-fact tone told him she wasn't the kind of person who was afraid of the things he and Dean hunted on a regular basis. And he guessed that based on the wear and tear on her laptop, Chloe used it. A lot. "I take it you like surfing the web?" he asked.
She chuckled. "That's one way to put it." She finally turned to look at him once more. "I'm a reporter. Sort of." Chloe shrugged. "I do a lot of research."
"Really?" he asked, sounding a little surprised. She didn't look old enough to be a reporter. "Where did you work?"
Something in her expression darkened. "The Daily Planet. I was interning there. But it wasn't the first time." She turned away once more, zipping up her bag, her hands shaking slightly.
Awareness dawned on him. "I bet you worked on your high school paper, too, didn't you?" he asked, sensing the change in her mood but unsure how to broach the subject.
"I did," she confirmed. "The Torch."
Sam just nodded, taking a couple steps to get out of her way. "It'll be nice to have someone to help me researching our hunts. Dean thinks Google is something you do to women." He smirked.
She almost dropped her bag, but she wasn't sure which startled her more: the fact that he was now seeming to accept the idea of her tagging along, or the fact someone on the planet didn't know what Google was.
Sam laughed at her reaction. "It's okay, Chloe. Dean's good at other things I don't have a clue about." His laughter died and he became serious again. "You're okay, you know that? I just... don't want you to get hurt because you happen to be tagging along with us."
She smiled faintly. "I appreciate that. But I figure...if I managed to survive all these years of meteor freak attacks...well." Chloe shrugged a little.
Nodding, Sam replied, "I'm going to hold you to that, because if you're gonna stay with us, things might get hairy... and I'm not just talking about Dean's sense of humor, either."
She smirked. "You're talking about yours, too?" she teased.
Holding up his hands in mock surrender, he said, "Hey, not talking about me, here." He grinned at her, though, accepting that they had a third traveling buddy. And it was going to be fun watching she and Dean verbally spar with each other, he thought.
Chloe offered him a real smile. "We should probably get some sleep." As if, she thought.
"We should... though I doubt I'm gonna sleep." Sam yawned, nevertheless. He started for the connecting door, then stopped. Pulling his small bag of salt out, he threw it to her. "Here, take this and pour is behind the front door of your room."
She lifted an eyebrow. "Are you expecting some kind of ghost to show up tonight?"
Grinning, Sam replied, "No, but you never know when a demon might try to break in. The salt line keeps them from entering the room. Trust me; it's always handy to keep some on you."
"Good to know." She smiled and glanced down at the bag as after he headed into his own room. Shaking her head a little, she moved to the door and poured the line of salt across the entrance. Then almost chuckled. She wondered if it kept out big dumb aliens, too.
&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&
Dean drove the Impala hard the next day, trying to make up for the time lost in driving away from their job in Topeka, Kansas. And though the dust seemed to have settled between Chloe and Sam, the ride had been, nevertheless, very quiet and a little intense. The closer they got to the Kansas state line, the more worried Chloe became. Dean had been staring at her through the rearview mirror all day, his look becoming dark.
"Dude, will you just drive the car and... stop?" Sam asked, giving Dean a knowing look.
Clearing his throat, Dean looked again at Chloe. "You okay back there?"
Blinking slowly she turned to meet his gaze in the rearview. "Fine," she murmured before looking back out the window once more and falling silent again.
"Yeah, you said that the LAST time I asked you," he pointed out.
Shaking his head, Sam shifted his body so that he could look at Chloe from the front seat. "Don't mind my brother. He gets cranky when he hasn't had his morning cup of coffee."
A faint smile touched her lips. "Can't say I blame him. God knows I need a couple lattes before I'm fully awake."
"A latte, huh?" Dean asked, grinning faintly. "Give me plain, straight up, black coffee any day. None of that fancy girlie stuff." He grunted, wishing they were ten miles closer to the nearest quick stop for that much needed cup of coffee.
"That girlie stuff got me outta bed and kept me awake from 3 in the morning til midnights when I needed it to," she informed him.
Dean snorted. "Of course it did. Look at all the sugar, caffeine, carbs --"
"Yeah, this coming from the guy who can wolf down a triple cheeseburger in exactly one minute," Sam interrupted him, throwing Dean a warning look.
"What? I'm just saying," Dean protested.
Chloe smirked, momentarily pulled from her dark mood by the snarking. "You drink coffee, Sam?"
Sam smiled. "Only when I have to. Late night study sessions, cramming for finals... well, during college, anyways." He looked down and was quiet for a moment.
Her own face fell a little and she looked back out the window. "Yeah," she murmured.
"And the awkwardness comes back," Dean muttered under his breath as he reached for the radio to turn it on.
"How close are we to Topeka?" Sam asked, trying to find something to talk about.
"Oh, probably another 400 miles," Dean replied, taking another quick look at Chloe in the rearview mirror, his face serious.
"Great," she murmured inaudibly, swallowing hard.
Sam watched Chloe fall back into herself and looked over at Dean. His serious look said pull over ASAP.
Nodding, Dean sped towards the gas station just over the horizon. Once they came to a screeching halt, Sam got out of the car. "I'll gas up. Chloe, need anything?"
"Coffee," she said softly, climbing out of the backseat.
"Okay," Sam said, going to the back of the car to pump the gas.
"Hang on a sec, Chloe," Dean replied, hoping she'd stay in the car with him.
She glanced back at him. "Yeah?"
"I've noticed you've been really, REALLY quiet the last couple hundred miles," Dean said, just getting to the point. "What gives?" He couldn't go into a job worrying about whether she was okay or not.
She shrugged. "Just haven't felt like talking."
Crossing his arms, he leaned back and looked at her pale face. "Uh huh," he said, clearly not believing her. Whatever it was that made her bolt was in Kansas. But he wanted to hear her say that.
She simply gazed back at him with an emotionless expression on her face.
"Not going to tell me?" he asked, a note of resignation in his voice. "Okay, but if you try to jump out the window at the state line, I'm not going to try to stop you." He opened the door and started to get out.
"I'm not suicidal," she told him, turning and heading for the station to get herself some coffee.
"Could've fooled me," he mumbled, watching her walk away. He moved to Sam, who was still pumping the gas and frowned. "Dude, you able to get anything from her about why she's on the run last night?"
He let out a breath, glancing at his brother and then watching her disappear into the station. "Not really. Just that she's originally from Metropolis, been living in Smallville for awhile...and she's a reporter." He paused.
"Reporter, huh?" Dean replied, his eyes still on the gas station door. "You think she's on the run because of some news story or something? Like she was interviewing the Mafia and it got too hot for her?"
Sam made a face. "I don't think so. But she does seem to know a lot about some weird stuff...which goes with the territory of living in Smallville, I guess. Said she's seen, been possessed and almost murdered by numerous 'meteor freaks.'"
"Huh." Dean had heard of these so-called mutant people who had been changed somehow by the events of the two meteor showers that had hit Smallville, but he still couldn't imagine Chloe being involved in all of that.
"Pretty sure she was telling the truth. The look on her face..." He shook his head.
"You mean the deer in headlights look she gets every time one of us mentions where she's from, what she's going... what she's running from?" he asked thoughtfully, puzzled more by her behavior than by the job they needed to focus on.
"That would be the one," Sam confirmed, gazing at his brother.
"Got any ideas about how to get her to... talk?" Dean asked. "Open up, chit-chat... whatever it is that makes women feel better when they've got something on their minds?" He smiled ruefully. He couldn't believe he was asking his little brother advice on women.
Sam almost laughed. "Somehow I don't think she's gonna open up as easily as some would," he admitted.
"Wonderful," he replied sarcastically. "Guess I might have to beat it out of her, then, because... her silence is as fun as nails on a chalkboard." He scratched his head, absolutely befuddled.
"Or maybe you just...relax and let her tell us when she's ready. It's not like we've been overly sharing with her," Sam pointed out.
"I hate it when you're right," he grumbled, watching Chloe come out of the gas station, large cup of coffee in hand, her eyes down and lost in thought.
"I'll go pay and get some coffee myself," he said to Sam, walking around the other side of the gas pumps so Chloe wouldn't be forced to talk to him again.
Sighing, Sam watched his brother go, and shook his head.
Chloe offered Sam a faint smile before climbing back into the car once more, slowly sipping the coffee she'd gotten. It was pretty much horrid, but it'd have to do.
"How's the coffee?" Sam asked, peeking his head in to look at Chloe.
"About like you'd expect coffee from a gas station to taste," she said with a grim smile.
"Oh good. That'll put Dean in a rare mood," he replied, straightening up and walking into the gas station for a cup himself, since it was his turn to drive.
It didn't take Dean long to pay for the gas and a cup of their stagnant yet strong cup of coffee and pile into the passenger seat to wait for Sam. He didn't dare look at Chloe, though he couldn't stop thinking about why she was with them instead of being the reporter she'd claimed to be. Still, it was a better train of thought than thinking about how much he hated Dad for dying on them, he thought to himself.
"This is the worst coffee ever," she said, her voice light. She wanted to let him know in a nonchalant way that she wasn't upset with him, she just wasn't ready to talk yet.
Taking a long sip and watching Sam make his way back to the Impala, Dean replied, "Yeah, puts hair on your chest." He turned his head and threw her a small, flirtatious smile.
She almost choked on her drink. "Well in that case you should probably take my share."
Dean's smile widened. "Why? Maybe I like my women hairy." He turned around as Sam got into the car.
Chloe made a face and momentarily considered dumping the rest of the coffee on his head. Too bad she liked the car.
Taking one look at Chloe's face, Sam slid into the driver's seat and looked at his brother. "Dude, you're about to get coffee on your head. What'd you do now?"
Dean looked at Sam innocently. "What'd I do?" he asked with a small smirk on his face.
&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&
Chloe sat in the booth across from the brothers, reading over the articles they'd given her. "So we're looking for the people who've mysteriously vanished?"
"Yep," Dean replied, throwing her a flirtatious smile as he watched her read. It was nice to stretch out and face her for a change.
Rolling his eyes at his brother's casual attitude, Sam continued. "Apparently the disappearances have all occurred within three weeks of each other." Getting out the laptop, he booted it up and hit Google to search for patterns in the seemingly random vanishings.
"Hmm." She reread each of the articles twice more before laying them out on the table, not noticing the grin on Dean's face. "So other than the fact they live in Topeka...there's nothing connecting them at all?" She raised her eyebrows and looked at Sam for confirmation.
Sam frowned at the information he found online. "Doesn't seem to be," he replied with an even tone. "The victim's addresses are scattered throughout the city, although..." He whirled the laptop around and shoved it in Chloe's direction. "Notice where the victim's addresses are kinda close?"
She nodded slightly. "We should see if we can find anything at their houses that the cops may have missed."
"Definitely," Sam replied, smiling at her slightly as he look back the laptop and closed it.
"Can't go yet," Dean said, listening to everything they'd been saying, though he dug into the burger still sitting on his plate. "I'm not done eating yet. Besides, the disappearing act could just be that: an act."
"Perpetrated by five different victims." She gave him a look.
Dean returned that look with one of his own. "It's not unlike that shape shifter that went on that killing spree back in St. Louis. You remember it, Sam." He nudged his brother, but Sam merely looked at him and shook his head.
"Well, you're the one who insisted we come back to Kansas, so I'm assuming you think something's up," she replied, folding her arms on the table.
"Because that's what we do. We go where the jobs are," he replied, casually wiping his mouth. "But a man can't work on an empty stomach, so it was wait five minutes."
Shaking his head, Sam whispered, "Sure got your priorities straight, haven't ya?" Grabbing the laptop, he stood up.
Chloe watched Sam head out of the diner and walk toward the Impala. She looked back at Dean with raised eyebrows. "Nice job," she said with a faint smirk.
Eating the last of his burger, he looked at her, his eyes darkening with some emotion he didn't want to acknowledge. "Yep, I sure try," he smirked, pulling out his wallet and putting the money for the bill on the table. There used to be a time when Sam wouldn't take his snarky remarks so personally, but that was before...
He shook his head lightly, forcing those thoughts back as he stood up.
"Are we done here now?" she asked, a hint of mocking in her tone, a smirk on her face.
"It's never done," he told her cryptically, the dark look remaining. "But yeah, why else would I be standing, waiting for you?" Though his last comment was made with a lazy grin, his eyes remained untouched with brightness.
Chloe noticed, but said nothing of it. "Then let's go."
By the time Dean had followed Chloe out of the diner, Sam was in the driver's seat, his laptop open, his hands furiously clicking over the keys. His brow was furrowed in an intense stare. "Dude, get out of the driver's seat. I'm driving," Dean muttered, opening the door and motioning for Sam to scoot over.
Without looking at him, Sam moved out of the way. "Make sure Chloe gets in behind you," he said matter-of-factly.
Though he could have gone somewhere crass with that comment, Dean let it slide as he let Chloe get into the back before getting in himself.
"Which house we heading to first?" she asked, glancing at Sam as she fastened her seatbelt.
"1525 Roseland Avenue," he replied, staring at the map on the laptop. "It's where the first disappearance occurred."
Dean immediately started the Impala and sped out of the diner parking lot. "Roseland... isn't that near the downtown area?" he asked while they drove.
Sam nodded wordlessly, still a little irritated with his brother. How he could remain so nonchalant about everything at this time, he never could figure out.
Chloe's gaze remained on Sam for a moment, sensing something wasn't quite right, but not able to put her finger on it for the time being. "That was Dana Richards, right?" she asked, recalling the woman's name from the first article.
"Yeah. 28 years old. Single female, lived alone."
Dean chuckled a little. "You make it sound like she's looking for a date."
Sam turned and glared at his brother. "No, dude, I'm trying to give you the information necessary to find HER. You know that. Why are you being such an ass about this?" His voice was hard and distant.
Dean's cheek tensed with anger, but he remained silent. Trust Sam to bring up his best defense mechanism.
"Guys. This isn't helping." Chloe's voice was soft. "All right. The other victims ranged in ages from 18 to 32...two more women, and two men. All white, single. The 18 year old still lived at home, though."
"Aside from him, the others had something in common," Dean replied, his tone not betraying his anger and ignoring Chloe's remark. "They're all young, single, living alone. Except the kid, of course."
"You think maybe this is a cult of some kind?" Sam asked out loud, the idea coming to him in a flash. Literally. He suddenly slumped over in pain as images began shooting through his mind.
Noticing the change in Sam, Dean immediately pulled over. "Dude, what is it?" he asked in a worried tone.
"Sam?" There was worry in Chloe's voice and she reached out and placed a hand on his shoulder. "What's happening?" she asked Dean.
"He's having a vision," Dean replied, not taking his eyes off Sam, who was convulsing.
As the pain subsided, Sam squinted with the massive headache he felt. "Oh God," he whispered, his face filled with pain.
"A vision," she murmured inaudibly. She kept her hand on his shoulder, not sure of what to do.
"It's a -- nevermind, I'll tell you later," Dean replied with a hiss, leaning over to Sam. "Sammy, what'd you see? You okay?"
"I would be if you give me a second to recover," Sam retorted, sitting up and breathing in deeply. "I saw... a woman..."
Chloe remained silent, feeling out of place as she bit down on her lower lip, waiting for Sam to continue.
Pinching his nose with two fingers, he said, "She's... there's something wrong with her."
"What?" Dean prompted softly.
"She's running from her apartment... something's after her..." Sam tried to get a good look at who or what was after the woman, but he couldn't. "Dammit," he sighed softly. "I think it's in the same apartment complex as Dana Richards."
Chloe leaned back in the seat, her mind turning over his words. Sam Winchester...was some kind of psychic.
The look on Chloe's face didn't escape Dean's notice, but he couldn't deal with that. Not right now. "Dude, you get an idea on her apartment number?"
"Uh... it was on the first floor," Sam replied. "She didn't go down any steps." He straightened up, his headache subsiding, his gaze deliberately avoiding Chloe's.
"That's good," Dean said, straightening himself and putting the car into drive. "Hopefully we'll get there in time to warn her. Maybe get some answers."
Remaining silent for the rest of the drive, Chloe climbed out of the backseat quietly when Dean stopped the Impala. Looking up at the apartment building, she let out a breath, feeling uneasy.
"Is this it?" Dean asked, looking sideways at Sam.
He nodded in response. "Look, you and Chloe go look for Dana Richard's apartment, and I'll try to find the girl in my... vision." He didn't dare look at Chloe since he didn't want to see the look on his face.
Throwing him a look, Dean said, "Looks like it's you and me, Chloe." He got out of the Impala to let her out.
She glanced at him sideways, then watched Sam head away. "He okay?" she asked, soft concern in her voice.
What a loaded question, Dean said to himself as he watched her get out of the car. "Yeah, he's fine," he simply said, then took off towards the front entrance. "What apartment did this chick Dana live in?"
Letting it go for now, Chloe glanced up. "Apartment 22 B."
Nodding, Dean led her into the front and managed to sneak past the guard on duty, an oversized cop who was taking his afternoon nap, Dean surmised. Taking the flight of stairs, they soon stood at 22 B, where Dean knelt down and started picking the lock.
She glanced down at him with a raised eyebrow, then shook her head a little as she pulled a small object from her purse. "Here. Try this instead," she said, handing him a paperclip.
Taking it from her, he looked at her uncertainly. "You telling me you can pick locks?"
"There's a whole lot I can do you don't know about," she informed him.
"Remind me to ask you about that sometime," he mumbled, using the paperclip to successfully pick the apartment door. Standing, he grabbed the doorknob and opened it.
She glanced around then quickly ducked inside behind him, flipping on the light and locking the door. The place certainly didn't give off any kind of bad vibes. Heading toward the kitchen, she watched as Dean went in the opposite direction.
The first place Dean went to was the bedroom. Stands to reason that if this chick disappeared on her own, she would have taken luggage with her. However, after a thorough perusal of the room, Dean found nothing unusual. Everything seemed to be in its place: no hangers strewn around or drawers pulled out. Even the suitcases were in the closet. Frowning, Dean left that room, heading for the living room.
Chloe found a stack of mail lying on the kitchen table, unopened. Phone bill, rent bill, cable bill, unopened church newsletter. Her eyebrows furrowing as she shifted through it, she took note of the date. Exactly two weeks ago on each. The same day she'd reportedly disappeared. Interesting.
Finding nothing in the living room that seemed out of place, Dean headed into the kitchen, where he saw Chloe standing with a curious look on her face. Not unlike Sam's when he thinks he's onto something. "You've found something," he remarked.
"She brought her mail in the day she disappeared."
Dean frowned as she showed him the postmarked dates on the bills. "So she was in here." He turned and looked around the room. "No sign of a break-in or struggle. Everything's... perfect." And that bothered him to no end.
"Maybe she just left." Her voice was quiet and she didn't meet his gaze as it occurred to her she'd done the very same thing.
"No, I don't think so," he replied, staring at her, though she wouldn't look at him. "Clothes are all hung in her closet, suitcases are in there as well. And look." He walked over to the edge of the kitchen and grabbed the set of keys off the key rack. "Looks like this is her apartment keys, car keys."
"So what's your theory?" Her eyebrows furrowed a little. "I mean, it doesn't seem like a kidnapping, either."
"No, it doesn't," he replied solemnly, looking around the room and starting to pace a little. "At this point, I have no theory. It could be anything from possession to a cult thing, like Sam had mentioned in the car."
Scratching his head, he looked perplexed and started wondering where his brother was.
"Maybe we should go find Sam."
"Okay, you have GOT to stop doing that," Dean replied, stopping and turning to look at her. "It's getting creepy."
Her eyebrows furrowed. "I'm sorry?"
"The whole 'speak what Dean's thinking' thing," he replied, feeling more than a little creeped out at the moment. "That's not the first time you've done that, you know."
"It's...not?" Chloe looked at him with a raised eyebrow.
Sighing and turning away from her, he replied, "Never mind. We really should go and find Sam." He turned and headed for the hallway.
Watching him go, she sighed very softly and then followed, locking and closing the door behind her.
Dean felt that something was wrong with her. And it probably had to do with either him or Sam, he wasn't sure which. Pausing at the stairwell door, he turned suddenly and said, "What's your theory?"
"Not sure I have one yet," she admitted. "There wasn't a lot to go on. We should check out the other victims' homes."
Nodding, Dean turned back and started to twist the handle. Then turned back to her again. "Sam's got powers, okay?"
"I figured that out already," Chloe said softly, meeting his gaze.
"Don't be too worried about him, okay?" he said softly. "He gets intense about certain hunts, that's all." He opened the stairwell door and let her pass. The faint scent of Chloe's shampoo filled his nostrils, and he was briefly distracted by that smell.
She turned to look at him as she moved past. "But he's all right? That...vision looked...painful."
"Huh?" he said, her voice breaking through his reverie. "They're not all like that. Though...." He hesitated as she walked through the door and he followed, shutting it behind him.
"They've gotten worse since he started having them?" she guessed.
Dean said nothing, just nodded silently as they made their way downstairs. "It's actually a long story, Sammy's visions." And not one he wanted to tell her about at that time. His dark eyes pierced hers, boring holes into her head. And again, those green eyes threatened to overcome him.
"I'm sure it is," Chloe said softly, holding his gaze. Not sure why, she reached out and touched his arm lightly. "We should...find him."
Her touch nearly made him jump; the electricity of her fingers on his arm almost scared him. "Yeah," he said, turning his head quickly and stepping away so she couldn't see the look in his eyes. He started down the stairs to the first floor.
Her green eyes dark, she slowly followed him, sensing something was off with him, but knowing he wasn't going to share anytime soon. Not that she could blame him. It wasn't like she'd been very forthcoming with information on her own life. They barely knew each other. As they reached the first floor, she spotted Sam down the hallway.
Sam stood out in the middle of the hallway, near the end of the hall, his face downtrodden and worried. That look alone told Dean that not only had he found the apartment from his vision, but the girl in question was, in fact, gone. "Sam," he said quietly as he walked up to him.
"She's gone," Sam replied, not looking up at Dean. "By the time I found the place... she was..." His face drew inward, so he couldn't finish his words.
"Is the apartment...normal?" Chloe asked after a moment's hesitation, feeling like she was intruding on something that was none of her business. "Or did it look like it's been ransacked?"
Sam looked up at Chloe, a little startled. "No, it looked normal," he said quietly.
"It was the same with Dana Richard's apartment," Dean said quietly, sneaking a look at Chloe.
"So someone's chasing these people out of their apartments," Sam concluded, thinking about the flashes he'd had in the car. "Why?"
"Let's check out this other girl's apartment," she suggested softly, heading toward the door he'd come away from.
Sam looked at her curiously. "Why? What did you find in the other apartment?" He indicated the girl's apartment, 14A, with his hand.
"Nothing, really," she admitted. "We probably won't find anything, but..." She shrugged a little, kneeling down and quickly picking the lock with the same paperclip she'd let Dean use earlier.
Sam watched with some amusement that Chloe could pick a lock better than his brother could. He leaned in to Dean. "Did you know she could do that?"
Dean, staring in near wonder, replied, "Hell no, I didn't know. Should have thought about it, considering I used THAT to pick the lock." He pointed at the paperclip she put back into her purse as she opened the door.
Bemused, the Winchester boys entered the apartment behind Chloe, wondering what other illegal activities she knew about.
She flipped the light on, not expecting to find much of anything that would help them out. Moving into the apartment, she paused as she saw a stack of mail on the kitchen table. An eerie sense of deja vu washed over her as she picked up the unopened envelopes and began to flip through them, unaware of the guys.
"What'd you find?" Dean asked, feeling like he'd done all this before. In the other apartment. The stack of mail on the table, he realized quickly.
"Huh." Chloe leaned against the table, removing one piece of mail and setting the rest back down. "This is the same church newsletter that was in Dana's apartment." Not hesitating, she broke the seal and opened it.
Seeing her drop the envelope onto the table, Sam picked it up and read the return address. "Woodsboro Baptist Church. Huh. Maybe they both went to the same church?" He asked, puzzled but suddenly nervous.
"Something about this place..." She read over the first page of the newsletter. "God, I'm an idiot." She rolled her eyes in disgust, her fingers tightening around the newsletter slightly in annoyance.
"What is it?" Dean asked again, trying to take the paper from her hands. Unfortunately, her grip was so tight that he nearly rendered the thing in two. "Chloe..."
"Woodsboro Baptist Church. You guys heard of it?" There was anger in her eyes as she turned to look at them.
"Woodsboro Ba-" Dean began, then stopping as he realized what they were dealing with. Humans, acting like morons. "Dammit," he whispered, looking over at Sam.
"I was right, wasn't I?" Sam asked slowly. "They're a cult."
Her jaw was tense. "They go around and they protest at funerals of dead soldiers," she said angrily, recalling how they'd done just that at Whitney's funeral a few years ago.
Sam shook his head in disbelief. "Why would anyone want to do that?" he asked quietly, wondering whether these people who were missing had, in fact, just taken it upon themselves to leave because this... "church"... told them to. But it didn't explain the thing he saw in his vision...
"I'm thinking you've had a run-in with them," Dean said slowly, looking at Chloe's angry face and wondering if she had known a soldier.
"Unfortunately." She couldn't keep the bitterness out of her tone. "The sick part is it's within their legal rights to protest." She looked at Sam. "Apparently it's all because in the United States we allow homosexual people to have basic human rights instead of stringing them up and having them killed for being who they are."
"And these people believe we as a country are probably going to hell because of that," Sam replied, looking at her, seeing the unrest in her eyes. "So if we're dealing with... well, should I say people?... then what was that thing I saw chasing the girl out of her apartment?"
"You know these cultist groups," Dean replied, his face grave. "For all we know, they've used their message as an excuse to raise some spirit to help them exact revenge." His eyes darkened at Chloe's barely contained rage. This was quickly becoming personal for her, and that could prove a liability if she wasn't careful. "Let's get outta here and find a place to hunker down."
Tucking the newsletter into her purse, she headed out the door without waiting for either of them, her mind on the day of Whitney's burial.
Dean and Sam left the apartment, shutting the door behind them quietly, so as not to arouse suspicion. They were both silent as they followed Chloe to the car. Once they got in, Dean started the Impala and said, "There's a hotel about a mile from here."
"Sounds fine to me," Sam replied, staring out the window, lost in thought.
Chloe didn't reply, her entire body tense and her breathing slightly uneven as she stared out the window, as well. She wasn't sure exactly how they were accomplishing it, but this so-called church was behind the disappearances of these individuals. She could feel it in every bone in her body. She just had to find a way to prove it.