Two Guys, a Girl and Chevy Impala: Fic 9: Masters of the Mind Meld (3/?)

[xtremeroswellia]

Series: Two Guys, a Girl and a Chevy Impala
Title: Fic 9: Masters of the Mind Meld
Authors: Clarksmuse and X_tremeroswellian
Rated: R to NC-17
Pairings: Chloe/Dean, Sam/Sarah
Disclaimer: Yeah, we don't own anything. Except our computers. :P Don't sue. Thanks.



The drive to and from the restaurant was a long and slightly tense one, especially since Dean knew they were both thinking about the same thing. So when they got back to the hotel and Sarah immediately headed for his room, Dean knew he'd be better off asking Chloe about this mind-reading ability while he had the chance.

With a bag of food and drinks in his hands, he knocked on the adjoining door and waited for her to answer.

Slowly climbing to her feet, Chloe made her way to the door and offered him a smile as she stepped aside to let him in. "I guess you went with Sarah?"

"I did," he replied, handing over the food with a wry smile. "Can I come in?"

"Of course." She shut the door behind him and moved to sit across from him at the small table.

He was silent for several moments, watching her reach into the bag for the burgers he and Sarah had bought. Where to start, he thought, wondering if Chloe knew what he was thinking. He kept his face carefully blank, as he really wanted to keep his hurt as far removed from this as possible. He knew he'd get over it, but all he wanted to know was why.

"Are we okay?" she asked softly, tucking some hair behind her ear as she looked at him, studied him, reacting to his unusual silence.

He grabbed a burger from her side of the table and opened the wrapping, taking a large bite of it while thinking about how to answer that question. "Sure," he replied after another long moment. "I just didn't know if you were still talking to Sammy." His comment was casual, though his hurt shone through.

Chloe paused mid-bite into the burger and then slowly put it down. Houston, we have a problem, she thought, her heart sinking. "Sam or Sarah?" she asked warily.

"Sarah. Accidentally, I think." He focused on the sandwich in his hand, not hungry in the least but forcing himself to scarf it down.

She looked at the table for a moment, then closed her eyes. "Dean..."

He didn't look at her but continued eating. "Was just wondering when you planned on telling me... if ever." His low, even tone hopefully didn't give away how deeply this was cutting into him.

She winced, reading between those lines. "Yeah. As soon as I figured out why exactly it's happening."

"And I take it this hasn't happened yet." Another bite and swallow. Not looking at her for fear of what she'd see there.

"No," she admitted softly, looking at the table once more.

"Fantastic," he muttered, finishing the burger and wiping his mouth with a napkin. "Well," he said, leaning back in his chair and staring at the ceiling, "I sure as hell don't know what to do because this hurts like hell. Got any suggestions?" His own bluntness surprised him, but at this point, he no longer cared.

"I didn't ask for this, Dean," Chloe said, suddenly feeling drained.

"None of us did," he replied softly, feeling like his world had been shattered and the pieces swept under the rug to hide the shame of it. "I'm sorry, Chloe. I'm sure you had your reasons for keeping this a secret... probably because you thought I'd freak out or something."

She ducked her head a little in acknowledgement of his words. "I didn't want things to get even worse between us," she admitted in a whisper.

He bit his tongue, holding back a sarcastic retort. He stood up, weary suddenly of... well, everything. "I think... I'm gonna get my own room tonight. Mull this over in my head for a bit, provided that Sam doesn't try to read my mind like he did this morning." He looked into her mournful eyes and saw himself in them. He reached down and touched her cheek gently.

She bit her lip. "Are you mad at me?" she asked softly, gazing up at him.

He simply looked at her, unsure how to answer for a moment. Was he mad? Yes. At her... not necessarily. "No, I'm not," he finally said, "but it hurts. Not that I don't deserve it."

"I wasn't trying to hurt you," she said honestly, rising to her feet.

He chuckled a little bitterly. "What was that you said about loving someone and letting them get too close to hurt you?" he asked in a matter-of-fact tone. "Maybe you weren't trying, but you did. It happens. I'll get over it." He tried to shrug it off.

Watching him head toward the door, she swallowed hard, feeling the chasm between them widen that much more. "Goodnight, Dean," she whispered.

Turning around to look at her with a longing in his eyes, he whispered, "Goodnight, Chlo." He hesitated for a second and then disappeared from the room, heading for the office to get a room for himself. Because he needed to think this through. Needed to understand before he confronted his brother again.

Tears stinging her eyes, Chloe looked at her untouched burger on the table then picked it up and discarded it into the trash can in the corner before changing into her pajamas and crawling under the blankets.

With a new key in his hand, Dean seriously debated finding it and drowning himself in a bottle of tequila. Hadn't it been a long, hard, tense ride? Weren't things bad enough that it deserved getting as drunk as possible?

When he saw Sarah leave Sam's room, however, he knew he needed to talk to his brother before sleep would find him. He headed for his brother's room and walked in without an invite. "Sam, we gotta talk," he said, a little surprised at the blank, pained look on his brother's face.

The pain and sadness laced in Chloe's thoughts was almost overwhelming and he tried to ask her what was going on but she wasn't responding. He could hear her but somehow she was blocking him. His eyebrows furrowing a little, he sat up in bed and looked at his brother. "Dean?"

Shutting the door, he stood in front of Sam. "I just saw Sarah leave, so I thought I'd tell you... hell, Sammy, did you intend to tell me you and Chloe have this mental brain connection thing?"

And suddenly Chloe's source of upset had a reason behind it. "What the hell did you say to her, Dean?"

He rolled his eyes. "For once, nothing. I just asked her why you two didn't tell me. Not something I wanted to know, even though..." He shook his head. Nevermind. It didn't matter that he suddenly realized this could be a good thing. Clearly Sam knew what she was thinking, which was more than he'd ever know.

"We didn't say anything because we didn't want you to freak out," Sam informed him, wincing a little as his head throbbed.

"Does it look like I'm freaking out, dude?" he asked carefully, seeing his brother's pain and guarding his thoughts as best he could. "I only hope Chloe can help you, because I sure as hell can't. Not this time." Even as he spoke those words, he felt the floor open up beneath him and try to swallow him whole. "Who would've believed it? I can't help you."

"We're trying to figure out how to shut it off. It's not like either of us wanted this to happen. It doesn't even make sense." His eyebrows furrowed a little. "And I'm fine. I don't need help, Dean."

Running a hand over his face, he looked away. "I hope you find a way to shut it down, because you two have been way too quiet lately. At least now, I know why." He knew he needed more help than his little brother did, but that didn't seem to matter anymore. He turned and headed for the door. "Got my own room for the night. Tomorrow... I guess you guys will work on putting everyone together again."

"Dean, come on man."

"What?" he asked, voice flat and defeated.

"There's another bed in here. You don't have to get your own room."

"Yes I do." He looked down at the other key he still clutched in his hand.

"Why? Are you that pissed at me?" Sam asked, his voice hurt.

He turned to gaze at his brother. "No, dude. I'm not pissed at you or Chloe. I'm just... I'm tired, Sammy. And I can't handle this right now." His eyes glazed over with a weariness he never felt before. "I need... time to think."

His shoulders slumped a little. "I'm sorry we didn't tell you before. We were hoping to somehow get it shut off or at least figure out what the cause was."

He nodded, swallowing hard. "I'm just hurt you two didn't trust me enough to say anything, though, I guess I don't deserve Chloe's trust." He fiddled with the other room key absently.

"Dean, she's really freaked about this," he said quietly, meeting his brother's eyes.

"Funny, she's never told me," he whispered, not looking up. "Then again, I'm not a mind reader." He tried to laugh but couldn't. "Yeah, that was a dumb joke."

A faint, somewhat forced smile touched his lips. "Trust me when I say be happy about that."

He smirked. "Sure, you only say that because you don't love her like I do."

"True...but it's not just Chloe's thoughts I hear," he murmured, moving to sit down on the bed again.

"Yeah," he muttered. "Imagine all the sweet things you can learn." He glanced up and smiled knowingly at Sam.

Sam sighed and looked at his brother. "If I didn't know any better I'd think you never thought with your upstairs brain."

"Never mind about me, Sam. Maybe it's time you started thinking with your downstairs one," Dean smirked, collapsing into a chair and yawning.

"Yeah, maybe someday if I ever figure out what the hell I am," he responded, laying back and staring up at the ceiling.

He sighed. "Or, in an alternate universe, you could spend more time with a woman who already accepts you as you are... freak notwithstanding." He glanced towards the adjoining room.

"I know she does." He was quiet for a moment. "But I don't."

Dean stood up. "Then I think it's time you figured it out. Quickly. Sarah's one of a kind... well, two of a kind." He thought about Chloe and smiled softly. "They're too good for us."

"You got that right," Sam agreed, shutting his eyes.

"Is she... okay?" he asked, knowing Sam was hearing Chloe's thoughts.

"I don't know. She's uh...blocking me."

"I'm going back after her," he said, heading for the door. "Gotta make her understand..." He cast a look back at Sam and wondered how he could possibly help him accept himself, even though the rest of them did, when he refused to even see it.

"It's a good idea," he answered, rubbing his forehead.

"What, talking to Chloe or accepting yourself?" he shot back, shutting the door behind him.

Sam sighed softly. If only the second was as easy as the first.

Dean went next door and pounded, determined to make Chloe understand that he wasn't mad at her. That he was just... totally thrown by everything. Sarah answered the door, looking pale and sad. "Hey, I'm looking for Chloe, but... are you alright?" he asked, frowning.

She shook her head and tried to smile. "Fine, just... fine." She stepped back and let him in.

He found Chloe in bed, the covers pulled around her, eyes closed. "We need to talk."

"About what?" she asked dully.

"Us." He stressed the word by yanking the covers back and picking her up.

"Dean!" Her arms wound around his neck instinctively. "What are you doing?"

"Taking you to my room," he replied, smiling at Sarah as they left the room. He made a left, walking several doors down.

"Isn't this kind of purpose-defeating?" she grumbled, shivering involuntary as the cold night air hit her skin.

Unlocking the door, he opened it enough to kick it in with his foot and tossed her onto the bed. "Haven't you figured it out that I don't give up that easily?" he said, shutting the door behind him and sitting down next to her.

"You're as stubborn as an ass," she responded with a smirk.

He glared at her before bridging his nose with his fingers. "Gee, when you put it that way," he sighed, not looking at her.

"I never said it was a bad thing." Her voice softened and she looked at the floor. "Sarcasm...ever my best defense mechanism."

He sighed and put an arm around her. "That makes two of us, Chloe." He paused, searching for the words to speak what was on his mind. "Can you turn off your mind meld with Sammy?"

"It's been turned off for awhile now," she responded, not looking at him.

"Good, because what I have to say..." He cleared his throat and turned her to look at him. "I love you, okay? I'm not pissed off at whatever the hell's going on with you and my brother... okay, that came out wrong." He looked down, actually embarrassed.

Wincing a little, she folded her hands on her lap. "Dean, I know this is really weird and awkward and--"

"That doesn't even begin to describe it," Dean interrupted, taking her hands in his. "But, Chloe, I'm... just a little..." He bit his lip in frustration. "I'm jealous, okay?"

Chloe closed her eyes. "Yeah, I figured that out."

This was a mistake, he thought miserably. He made no move, but he felt a heaviness fall over him again. "How would you feel, Chloe?" he asked quietly.

She stood up and slowly began to pace the floor. "I'd be upset. Jealous. Maybe even a little angry," she admitted.

He watched her move and couldn't help smirking. "Boy, I'm rubbing off on you," he remarked, stretching out on the bed and taking a moment to enjoy her pace.

"Huh?" She paused, turning to look at him like he'd grown a second head.

He put his arms behind his head and smiled at her unabashedly. "Did you always pace like that before we met?"

Her eyebrows furrowed for a moment and a wry smile touched her lips. "No that was mostly reserved for when Lionel Luthor was trying to have me killed."

He snorted but frowned. "You think this situation is that bad?" He slipped his arms to cross over his chest. He never took his eyes off her, however, intensely watching every move she made.

"No, that...was scary on a whole different level."

"Then how would you define this?"

"Scary on a less dangerous scale, but still borderline terrifying." She didn't look at him.

"Comforting," he whispered, feeling the distance between them again. He sat up and rubbed his eyes. "Have you or Sarah gotten any further with the mental divorce from Sammy?"

"No." She raked a hand through her blonde hair.

He shifted on the bed, a little more than uncomfortable. "Well, awkward," he muttered to himself, finally reaching over and grabbing Chloe's hand, halting her progress.

Letting out a breath, she finally looked at him, her eyes filled with uncertainty.

He frowned. "Hey, it's okay, alright? I can learn to deal with my jealousy, though... I really wish I knew what was going on behind those eyes of yours." He pulled her to sit back on the bed with him.

Swallowing hard, she was silent for a moment. "It doesn't make any sense that I can hear Sam and no one else can."

He wrapped tentative arms around her and pulled her to him. "I don't know, either. Sammy's the psychic wonder... no offense." He kissed the back of her neck gently in an involuntary motion of comfort.

She bit her lower lip and slowly wound her arms around him as well. "I've uh...found some...things in the research that..."

When she didn't continue, he tightened his arms around her. "Can't read your mind, Chlo. You have to say it." No matter what it might be, he thought.

"Sometimes people who are uh...crazy," she whispered. "...are the ones who have psychic abilities." Her voice was barely audible.

He put his chin on her shoulder. "I already know Sam's nuts, mostly because he's my brother, but I don't believe you're crazy. Not for a second... except for the loving me part."

"No, Dean, you don't...understand." She swallowed hard.

He held onto her. "Make me understand," he said, his voice grave with concern.

Chloe slowly pulled away from him, though she slid her fingers through his. "My mom is..." She paused. "She's sick."

His eyes grew dark and serious. "Is she okay?" he asked her, turning her around to look at her.

"No," she whispered.

He pulled her chin up and looked into her troubled eyes. "What's wrong with her?" He was beginning to understand why she hated this situation so much.

Chloe gazed into his eyes. "She's in an institution."

Dean held her gaze and touched her cheek. "Can I ask for what?" He had a sneaking suspicion that her mom was insane, in some way, shape, or form.

"Catatonic schizophrenia," she murmured, dropping her eyes.

He sucked in a breath and pulled Chloe into his arms, burying his face into her neck. He sighed in despair. "Damn," he whispered, "I have no idea what that is, but it sounds bad."

"It's incurable...pretty much untreatable...and hereditary," she said quietly, resting her head against his.

His whole body went numb for a moment. "You mean... you're trying to tell me that... No, I don't believe it." There had to be someway to keep her from getting it, he thought.

"It could be why I can hear Sam and no one else can."

He pulled her away to look into her eyes. "You're not crazy, Chloe. It's something else." His grip on her tightened a little as his eyes burned with determination.

"You hope," she whispered.

"Damn right I hope. You're my girl. I don't want anything to be wrong with you." He leaned in and kissed her gently to emphasize his words.

Closing her eyes, she kissed him back, resting a hand against his cheek. "I love you."

"I love you too, Chlo." He leaned into her touch and smiled a little. "And I'm here." He brushed her blonde hair out of her face and kissed her, lingering over her lips.

"Even if you are freaked out?" she whispered.

"Freaked out, weirded out, and totally jealous," he admitted, pulling her body against his.

"Well that makes two of us. Well...minus the jealous part." She leaned her forehead against his.

He laughed, a little breathless at her presence. "Don't worry, I've got enough envy for both of us," he whispered and closed his eyes. He hesitated a long moment. "Stay with me tonight?"

"If you want me to," she whispered, swallowing hard.

He frowned a little. "Why wouldn't I?" he asked, pulling back and looking at her. He longed to hold her again: it had been much too long since they'd spent any time together. Alone.

"Well the whole weird, freaky thing for one."

He smirked knowingly. "Hey, there's some good things about being a little weird and freaky." His eyes gleamed with need.

Her eyes widened. "Why am I surprised that you're thinking about freaky?"

"Because I only think with my downstairs brain, like Sammy once told me," he smirked, snaking his hands under her nightshirt and stroking her stomach gently.

She bit her lower lip, her body instantly responding to his touch. She pressed her lips against his and slid her arms around his neck.

"Chloe," he moaned, gliding his hands up her back and around her torso, exploring while his mouth moved over hers, asking rather than demanding.

She shifted closer to him, their bodies pressed flushed together intimately. "Hmm?"

"Stay." His mouth trailed down to nip at her earlobe as his hands fumbled at unbuttoning her top.

"Not going anywhere," she murmured, shivering involuntarily as he started to remove her pajamas.

Stripping off her clothes slowly, he felt his lungs bereft of all air. "You're beautiful," he whispered, putting her down on the bed and resting his head against her breasts.

She slid her hand over the back of his neck, closing her eyes. "So are you."

He tweaked a nipple with his finger, smiling at the pleasurable response she gve him. "Not like you are. I'm all scars." Inside and out, he thought briefly. His hands trailed down her body lightly, giving her goose bumps and making him harder by the minute.

"Far from it," she whispered, cupping his face and lifting her head to gaze at him intently.

He held her gaze, and in it he saw something... indefinable. "What are you thinking?" he asked frankly, hoping she'd talk to him.

"About how much I've missed you," she whispered.

He smirked lovingly. "God, tell me about it," he murmured, putting his attention back onto her lush breasts, touching and licking them slowly.

She groaned, swallowing hard as his mouth trailed against her soft flesh. "You...are really good at that."

"Just now figuring that out?" he rasped, his hands reaching into her pajama bottoms to take them off.

"Never said that." She lifted her hips to help him finish undressing her.

Once naked, he pulled her up so that she straddled his lap. She moved her core against his jeans, making him shudder with desire. "My turn," he whispered, kissing her neck, hitting that sensitive spot and sucking a little.

"You are...very overdressed, Mr. Winchester," she whispered, nipping at his earlobe.

He groaned. "What... you gonna... do about it... Ms. Sullivan?" His breath hitched in his throat with every move of her hips against his.

She smirked. "Well if you don't help me undress you you're gonna end up messy for one. "

"Then stop wriggling, woman, and get me outta these things," he demanded, tugging out of his shirt and nearly ripping it in two.

She yanked the shirt over his head and discarded it over her shoulder. Then she pressed her hands to his chest and pushed him down onto the bed, a smile on her face as she moved her hands to the button on his jeans.

Dean stroked her arms as she pushed his jeans and boxers off his body, then moved over him, looking at his thick manhood, her eyes wide. "What's wrong?" he asked, grinning widely.

"What makes you think something's wrong?" she asked with a smirk before lowering her head and taking him in her mouth.

"Shit," he grunted, feeling her tongue slide against his thickness slowly as she gently sucked him. His hips jerked, wanting to be further inside her. He leaned his head back, eyes closed, while his hands reached down and threaded his fingers through her hair.

Chloe rested her hands lightly on his hips as she took him more deeply in her mouth.

He groaned loudly. "Fuck, Chloe, you're killing me." He desperately wanted her to move faster, but she seemed content tasting his pre-cum against her tongue. At the rate she was going, however, he wasn't going to last very long.

She slowly lifted her head to look at him with raised eyebrows. "Well I guess I could stop..."

His eyes intense with love and lust, he dragged her up and positioned her hips over him, his tip touching her wet core. "Don't stop," he whispered, gazing at her hungrily.

She groaned as she slowly lowered herself onto him, feeling his thickness stretch her. She closed her eyes, biting down on her lower lip.

Their collective moans resounded in the room as she rode him, slowly at first, his hands gripping her hips to steady the rhythm she set, his hips rising to meet hers as they moved together. "Faster," he whispered, feeling his climax near.

She rested her hands against his chest, grinding her hips down against his urgently.

Biting his own lip, her fast-paced bucking against him. When she spread her thights wider, taking him in more fully, he watched her climax wash over her, making him come suddenly, too. It hit him so hard he saw stars, and with a final thrust, he emptied himself into her, feeling her body spasm against him.

Exhausted, Chloe slowly laid down with her head on his chest, panting for breath.

Dean wrapped his rubbery arms around her, too tired and breathless to do anything else. They just laid there, breathing heavy, sweat mingling, their bodies still joined.

She shut her eyes, listening to the sound of his heartbeat beneath her ear.

"See?" he whispered, stroking her damp hair away from her face. "Freaky. I love that."

"That was freaky?" she asked, placing a soft kiss to his collarbone.

"What you just did with your mouth?" he asked, cocking an eyebrow at her. "I never knew you could do that."

"I'm a woman of many talents."

Rolling her onto her back, he looked her in the eye. "Something I intend to thoroughly explore as much as possible." He chuckled and kissed her full lips.

"Well, how do you think I got my job at the Daily Planet?" she asked with a straight face.

He made a face. "You slept your way to the top?" he joked, getting a jab in the ribs for his trouble.

"You know, most people would've bought that," she said with a faint smile.
"But not me," he whispered softly, playfully rubbing his ribs.

"No. Not you," she said just as softly, gazing at him.

He tucked a stray hair behind her ear and pulled her head onto his chest. He sighed, hoping he'd be able to keep her to himself at least for the night.

Chloe shut her eyes as she rested her head against his chest. She knew he was thinking about it again and she had no idea how to make it easier for him.

He felt her relax in his arms, though he suddenly felt anything but. Holy shit, he wondered, did Sam hear anything? He stiffened a little in panic, utterly grossed out at the mere contemplation.

"What's wrong, Dean?" she asked, feeling him tense beneath her and lifting her head to look at him.

It was on the tip of his tongue to push off what he was thinking, but something told him not to. "Uh... I just had a really disgusting thought," he whispered into the dark.

Her eyebrows furrowed. "Okay...and that would be...?"

He swallowed hard. "What if..." He hesitated, suddenly wishing she could read his mind. "Fuck, Chloe. I was wondering if... you know..." He pointed to his head, unable to speak the words.

She stared at him for a moment, her eyes widening. "That is disgusting. God."

"Hey, I told you it was gross," he protested, moving away from her and rubbing his face wearily.

It suddenly occurred to her that this whole connection with Sam was going to be a lot more of a problem than she ever realized. Feeling tired and drained all of a sudden, she moved off the bed and quickly pulled her pajamas back on silently.

Without looking at her, he said, "Please don't leave me." He didn't think he could make it through the night without her. "I need you to stay, Chloe."

"I'm not leaving," she said softly.

He nodded. "Good." He stood up and pulled on his boxers and t-shirt before getting into bed again. Only then did he dare look at her. Dean hated himself for his jealousy, his anxiety over something none of them had control over.

"I've got him shut out of my mind," she told him, not looking at him.

He glanced over at her: she was still standing by the bed. "For once, I wasn't thinking about you," he muttered.

"So you were thinking about me being in Sam's head?"

He bowed his head and said nothing for several moments. "Just call me ass, okay? Stray thoughts happen, dammit."

"I'm not reading Sam's mind either. The whole mental barrier cuts off the connection both ways, Dean." She sat down on the edge of the bed, her back toward him.

"Okay," he replied. "Like I said, it was a disgusting thought. I won't mention it again." He rolled over and closed his eyes, hoping she'd come back to bed.

No, she thought painfully. You'll just think about it and wonder until it drives you crazy. Sighing very softly, she crawled under the covers. "Goodnight," she said softly.

"Goodnight," he whispered, not moving. He wondered now if he would ever find sleep, even with Chloe there with him.