SPN/SV Fic: Fix Me (1/1)
Title: Fix Me
Author: X_tremeroswellian
Rated: PG-13
Pairing: Dean/Chloe
Prompt: I’m Drunk in the un_love_you community.
Word Count: 313
By the time he arrives in Smallville, she is three sheets to the wind with no thought of slowing down. She drinks one tequila shot after another, her eyes red and glassy when he taps her shoulder.
“I’m drunk,” Chloe says needlessly.
“I see that.” He wonders what she’s running from this time. If she’s turned to alcohol, he thinks, it must be pretty big. Because drinking himself stupid is something he’s far more likely to do than someone as smart as Chloe Sullivan.
She smiles at him, but it is a smile devoid of any semblance of happiness. “Wanna go back to my place?”
He draws in a breath as he realizes it’s going to be a long night. “Yeah, let’s get you home.” He reaches out and helps her work her arms into her too-large jacket. Then she winds her arms around his waist and when she buries her face against his neck, he shuts his eyes for a moment.
“Missed you,” she whispers against his skin.
Dean’s arms slide around her, one of his hands resting on the back of her head, tangling in soft blond hair. “Ditto. Come on, Chlo.” He guides her out of the bar and to the Impala, hoping she can hold her liquor and not barf all over his beloved car.
He tucks her into the seat, stretches the seatbelt across her body, and pauses as she reaches up to touch his face. Her eyes are still glassy and clearly inebriated but he can see the deep ocean of pain beneath that.
“It’s gonna be okay,” he says, though he knows it may not be true, and so does she.
“No, it won’t, but thanks for saying it,” she says faintly as she leans back in the seat and shuts her eyes.
Dean presses a kiss to her forehead and hopes he can fix her.
Author: X_tremeroswellian
Rated: PG-13
Pairing: Dean/Chloe
Prompt: I’m Drunk in the un_love_you community.
Word Count: 313
By the time he arrives in Smallville, she is three sheets to the wind with no thought of slowing down. She drinks one tequila shot after another, her eyes red and glassy when he taps her shoulder.
“I’m drunk,” Chloe says needlessly.
“I see that.” He wonders what she’s running from this time. If she’s turned to alcohol, he thinks, it must be pretty big. Because drinking himself stupid is something he’s far more likely to do than someone as smart as Chloe Sullivan.
She smiles at him, but it is a smile devoid of any semblance of happiness. “Wanna go back to my place?”
He draws in a breath as he realizes it’s going to be a long night. “Yeah, let’s get you home.” He reaches out and helps her work her arms into her too-large jacket. Then she winds her arms around his waist and when she buries her face against his neck, he shuts his eyes for a moment.
“Missed you,” she whispers against his skin.
Dean’s arms slide around her, one of his hands resting on the back of her head, tangling in soft blond hair. “Ditto. Come on, Chlo.” He guides her out of the bar and to the Impala, hoping she can hold her liquor and not barf all over his beloved car.
He tucks her into the seat, stretches the seatbelt across her body, and pauses as she reaches up to touch his face. Her eyes are still glassy and clearly inebriated but he can see the deep ocean of pain beneath that.
“It’s gonna be okay,” he says, though he knows it may not be true, and so does she.
“No, it won’t, but thanks for saying it,” she says faintly as she leans back in the seat and shuts her eyes.
Dean presses a kiss to her forehead and hopes he can fix her.