Gimmie Shelter
A storm is threatening
My very life today
If I don't get some shelter
Oh yeah, I'm gonna fade away
April 24, 2011
Well over a year ago now, the day after Chloe handed Oliver that earpiece and officially signed on as Watchtower, he decided Chloe needed to be able to handle herself in a fight, even though he never envisioned her being out in the field. So two days a week they had self defense classes that Oliver personally conducted, not necessarily teaching Chloe how to fight, just how to handle herself.
Then Castiel came along and told Oliver that at some point in the not too distant future a horde of angels and demons would likely descend on Metropolis, hungry for Chloe's blood. Add onto that, the routine of everyday disasters that came along with heading the Watchtower and Oliver's team and he increased the training sessions from twice a week to five times a week. He also added weapons training into their routine-crossbows, longbows, bo staffs, and anything else he could think of. What he couldn't teach her himself, he brought someone else in for. He wanted to make sure that she had every skill available at her fingertips, if she ever had a need to call upon them.
So Chloe was no stranger to physical training, she wasn't even a stranger to intensely grueling "I'm so tired and my muscles feel like jelly and I think I'm just going to lay down right here and nap for a while" training. But not even five minutes into her first session with Dean she knew that this was not going to be like sparring with Oliver.
Oliver fought to win.
Dean fought to survive.
Every inch he won meant another second he got to keep breathing-that his heart got to keep beating. It was primal and fearsome and even beautiful in a way. It was the reason Chloe had asked him to teach her.
She thought she was pretty good. She could at least hold her own when the situation arose but six minutes into her first session with Dean she was flat on her back, her breath coming in quick desperate gasps, trying to figure out when exactly she lost the fight. Dean's face swam into view as her vision cleared and the look of determination, of pure survival instinct etched across his features let her know that the fight was over long before it started. Her hip was throbbed from where it slammed into the hard floor (the mats had yet to arrive), her head pounded, her stomach churned and she couldn't seem to catch her breath but still she reached out her hand and set her face with determination.
"Again," she'd said and Dean smiled, pulling her to her feet and they started over.
Now, five months after that first fight, she once again finds herself on her back on the floor of the gym. This isn't the second time and it likely won't be the last. The ground is slightly softer with the presence of the workout mats to cushion her fall and this round she managed to last a good forty-five minutes before Dean bested her as opposed to six. But still she's on the floor.
"Nice try," Dean says panting above her, her shoulders pinned to the mat, his knees locking her hips into place.
"How does me on the floor yet again equal nice try?" Chloe asks him a smile on her face even as sweat soaks into her hair.
"Well, it doesn't, I was just trying to sound encouraging," Dean tells her. "Your fake was obvious, I saw it coming a mile away and you left your right side wide open once again."
"Maybe that was my plan," Chloe tells him. "Did you ever think of that?"
"What kind of plan involves me pinning you to the ground?" Dean asks her and she raises her eyebrows. Chloe slides her right leg out of Dean's embrace, bringing it up to wrap around his hip, pulling him closer to her. "Really?" His voice hitches a bit, her expression throwing him off just enough. Dean swallows audibly and Chloe laughs, pushing herself and Dean up, flipping them both over and pinning him to the mat this time.
"That kind of plan." Chloe laughs as Dean slams his head against the mat in surrender. "So has the student now become the master?"
"Calm down young grasshopper. You've got a ways to go just yet." He opens his mouth to say something else when they hear yelling from outside.
"What's going on?" Chloe turns her head to the windows and Dean makes a move to flip them over, trying to regain the upper hand but Chloe is too quick for him. She leans to the side on her elbow as Dean pushes up and slips her knee under his back, flipping him over onto his stomach. She stabs her knee between his shoulder blades and twists his arm up, pinning him firmly. "What were you saying about having a ways to go?" she whispers in his ear and his comeback is cut off with another round of yelling from outside.
"I swear, I can't leave them alone for ten minutes." Chloe jumps to her feet and looks down at Dean who is rolling onto his back. She holds out her hand and pulls him to his feet. "Stay," she tells the dog, assuming they'll be right back.
They walk out the door to find a crowd has gathered in the area Oliver has designated as the archery range. Chloe pushes ahead of Dean and slips easily through the throng of people to where Victor and Clark seem to be involved in some sort of standoff.
"No way no how." Victor is seething; Chloe's never seen him so upset. "Not gonna happen."
"What's going on?" Chloe asks them confused.
"Ask Boy Scout." Victor grunts and backs up a few steps.
"Clark?" Chloe looks at him properly for the first time and sees that he's not alone.
"You said you needed an army," he tells her sheepishly and looks behind him to the group of Kandorians who are standing patiently at attention. "I brought you an army," he explains.
Chloe tears her attention away from the aliens and gives it back to Clark, unsure. She knows she's the one who helped him set them up with IDs and jobs and a place to live, but she's also the one who stole money from Oliver to build quite a large stock pile of kryptonite weapons should they ever go crazy and try to take over the world. She looks from the group of rigorously trained soldiers who were literally made to fight a war and then behind her at the rag tag group of hunters and civilians that she's managed to gather over the past few months.
"They want to help," Clark says and Chloe walks past him to stand in front of Zod. He looks down at her, his face giving nothing away.
"Why?" Chloe asks Zod, not Clark, because she wants to hear what he has to say.
"We like this planet," Zod says simply. "You helped us to assimilate, to make it our own and we will fight to keep it that way."
Chloe turns around and looks at Dean tilting her head to the side. He looks from her to the group assembled behind her then back again and nods. Oliver steps forward; making a move to protest but Chloe raises a hand quieting him.
His nostrils flare and he glares at her for a second before moving to stand back where he was, acquiescing to her command. Chloe turns her attention back to Zod. "You do this; you do it by my rules. You follow my orders, you and your men. You answer to me."
Zod stares at her for a while as if weighing her before falling to his knees. His head bows in supplication. Almost in unison, the entire Kandorian army follows his lead. "Stand up," Chloe says and they all stand, obeying her order without question. "Jo, find them some place to stay, give them the ten cent tour, explain how things work around here, then pass out assignments." Jo smiles and leads the Kandorians away. "We might need to empty out a few more cabins." Chloe turns her attention to AC and Victor. Despite their very vocal protest minutes ago, they simply nod and head after Jo. "I'm sure the rest of you have some work to do elsewhere," she calls to the crowd in general and it slowly disperses.
Chloe turns her attention back to Zod who has stayed behind. He's flanked by Clark on one side and Alia on the other. In unison Oliver, Bart, Sam, Castiel, and Dean close up their ranks by Chloe's side and Lois stands hesitantly between them, off to one side, unsure where to go. Chloe ignores all of this and instead stares intently at Alia then holds out her hands. "Your sword."
Alia hesitates briefly, casting a glance at Zod who nods for her to comply. She pulls the sword from its sheath and lays it across Chloe's outstretched hands. Alia doesn't flinch but the look of fear in her eyes is unmistakable as Chloe's fingers tighten around the blade and her eyes close.
Dean frowns and steps closer to Oliver. "Those two look like they have a history."
"A future, if you want to get technical," Oliver says, not taking his eyes off Zod or Alia. "In an Alternate Future Timeline, Alia runs Chloe through with that very sword, killing her."
"Right." Dean nods. "Alternate futures, those things can be a bitch." Oliver spares a glance at Dean after that comment and finds that he's actually not joking. He vaguely remembers Chloe telling him something about Dean coming to this camp at some point in the future.
Chloe's hands move from the blade of the weapon to the hilt, gripping the sword with trained ease as her eyes open, boring into Alia. They both know that in a different time they would be on opposite sides of a different war. But things have changed, it's a new world now and this time they must work together.
"How good are you with this?" Chloe asks, feeling the weight. It's solid and heavy in her hands.
"On Krypton, I was the first in my class," Alia answers hesitantly.
Chloe nods, thinking.
::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
"So this is a special knife that can kill demons?" Chloe spins said knife around on the table before picking it up. She looks up at Castiel, Bobby, and Lucas.
"Yes." Castiel nods at her.
"You say you've figured out how it works?" Dean asks them.
"Lucas did." Bobby looks at the boy, the pride in his eyes is unmistakable.
"Can you make other weapons like it?" she asks them, flipping the knife in the air and catching it by the blade. She holds it out to Lucas hilt first.
"What did you have in mind?" He takes the knife from her and slides it in its sheath.
"Arrows," Chloe says thinking of Oliver. "Bullets, anything we can get our hands on."
Lucas looks at Castiel then turns back to Chloe. "I can do that," he assures her and Chloe smiles.
::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
Chloe stares at the blade, she likes the way it feels in her hands, the way she feels holding it. There's something right about it that she just can't put her finger on. She looks up at Alia and smiles, resting the blade on her palms again; she offers it back to the Kandorian. "Teach me."
Alia smiles and puts the sword back in its sheath. "I can do that."
"You can't be serious," Oliver calls out, unable to contain his disapproval any longer.
"Oliver." Chloe turns around, surprised, annoyed, but mainly embarrassed. The crowd that had begun to disperse pauses, lingering a bit in the outskirts of the archery range. She shakes her head, a clear indication that the discussion is over and turns to walk away.
Oliver reaches out and grabs her arm, spinning her around to face him, halting her exit and Dean takes a threatening step closer. Chloe holds up a hand and Dean stops in his place. Oliver doesn't have the energy to process that just yet so he lays it on the back burner.
"Chloe, you can't do this." Oliver moves closer, oblivious to the scene he's causing, or probably more accurately, not caring.
"I'm not having this discussion with you. I've made my decision and that's final," she practically hisses this at him, her voice low and controlled but just barely.
"No, it's not final," Oliver scoffs at her. "A year ago we sat down and made a contingency plan on how to take down Zod and his entire Kandorian army because you said they couldn't be trusted and now you're just handing them the keys to the kingdom? Have you lost your mind?"
Chloe is frozen to the spot. She's so angry she can't even think straight. She looks around at the crowd still gathered and swallows hard. "Don't you all have things you should be doing?"
They don't have to be told twice. They scurry away as fast as they can. They remind Chloe of roaches who scatter when the lights turn on. "You follow me," she spits at Oliver then storms off in the direction of the gym. Oliver and Dean hot on her feet.
When they're in the room and there are no more prying eyes or ears Chloe turns on Oliver, more angry than she can ever remember being in recent history. "You never do that again, do you understand me?" she yells at him. "Never undermine me in front of everyone like that. The decision was made; there was no reason or room for discussion. You were way out of line."
"Out of line?" Oliver steps back and stares at her. "So you make all the decisions now? Just you?"
"Yes Oliver, just me." Chloe sighs in resignation. She knew at some point it was going to come to this. It's been building for a few weeks now.
"And who put you in charge?" Oliver scoffs at her.
"God," Chloe snaps and this seems to surprise them both.
"God?" He stares at her, searching her face to see if she's joking.
This may be the first time that she's actually said it out loud, and it took her a lot of time and lot of denial to get to this point but she truly does believe it. "And everyone else in case you failed to notice," Chloe adds on trying to get away from the awkward moment before.
Oliver thinks about his team, about how they follow Chloe, about how they don't even come to him anymore, how they haven't come to him for a while. Chloe seems to read his mind and softens a bit. "We can't be a team here, we can't have discussions and make pro con lists and call for a vote. This is not a democracy; this isn't even a dictatorship Oliver. This is a war and in a war there's only room for one General."
"And that General is you?" he asks her, wondering how all of this seemed to happen right under his nose while he wasn't watching.
"Yes, that General is me." Chloe nods. "I didn't ask for this. I never wanted this but the fact of the matter is this is my war, and these are my people and I'm doing everything I can right now just to tread water. It would be so much easier if I didn't have to worry about you." Chloe turns her back on him then walks over the mat, dismissing him in a way that leaves no room for interpretation.
"You're okay with this?" Oliver asks Dean.
"She leads I follow?" Dean raises an eyebrow and walks over to join Chloe. "Hell yeah I'm okay with that."
Except Oliver knows that's not really how it goes. Back there, with the Kandorians, it wasn't Chloe making the decisions, it was Chloe and Dean making the decisions and maybe that's his real problem here. A year ago he would have been the one that she turned to, it would have been his advice, his opinion that she sought out before making her decision. But now it's Dean she turns to and Oliver she shushes with the flip of a wrist. "Well I'm not," Oliver says defiantly and Chloe turns around slowly to stare at him.
"You're not what Oliver?" she asks cautiously.
"I'm not okay with it," he tells her. "I'm not okay with you just taking over. This isn't a game Chloe. The decisions made here, now, affect everyone, not just you, not just the people here at this camp but potentially everyone on the planet and I'm not okay with you acting like you're the only one who gets a say in this."
"Is that really what you think?" Chloe's voice is low and hurt now, anger seeping its way into every breath. "You think I don't know how important this is? You think I think this is a game? You think I don't know that every time I open my mouth, every time I say yes instead of no or right instead of left that I don't know that choice could mean the life or death of a member of my team, a member of this camp? How can you possibly…" Dean lays a hand on her arm and it seems to calm her instantly, stopping her rant mid flow and that pisses Oliver off even more.
"I don't know what to think Chloe because you don't talk to me," Oliver practically spits at her.
"This isn't high school, we're not BFFs," she snaps. "I don't have to share everything with you."
"You don't share anything with me," Oliver screams back. "Not anymore," he adds more softly.
"This is the way things are now Oliver. This is the way they're going to be, so if you have a problem with that you can just-" she cuts herself off before she finishes her sentence and Oliver feels his whole body tense.
"What?" he asks her dreading the answer. "I can just what?"
"Leave," Chloe tells him defiantly, almost daring him. No one's a prisoner here, if they don't want to fight anymore or don't want to follow Chloe anymore, they're all free to leave at any time but if you do, don't bother coming back. Chloe always wanted to make sure that everyone understood how serious she was about this whole thing, that there wasn't going to be a lot of coming and going, that this wasn't just something that you did on the weekend or whenever it was convenient for you.
Oliver stares at her, studying her for a second. "OK."
Chloe swallows suddenly remembering something Dean told her one night while trying to teach her to play poker, 'Don't bluff unless you're prepared to lose'. "What?" she asks him.
"If that's what you want I'll leave," Oliver threatens her, pushing her and she hates that he's trying to lay everything off on her so she pushes back.
"Fine." She turns away and grabs the tape, wrapping her knuckles with precision even as her heart pounds in her ears and her hands threaten to shake uncontrollably.
"Okay, then." Oliver turns and walks out. Chloe flinches as she hears the door slam behind him and feels more than hears Dean come up behind her.
"Chloe?" he asks cautiously and she spins around.
"Don't." She shakes her head and Dean backs off, walking onto the mat. "I need to not think for a minute, can we do that?"
"Okay." He motions for her to come after him and she smiles and for a second Dean is scared.
::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
Chloe smiles as she watches Dean walk into the Mess Hall limping slightly the next morning. She looks down at his right knee wondering if the swelling's gone down any and feels only marginally bad about injuring it in the first place. It was sort of his fault; he'd left his right side wide open. She looks back up at Dean's face to find him watching her watching him. She resists the urge to blush under his gaze and simply raises an eyebrow. Dean for his part simply winks at her before shoving Sam aside to grab a cup of coffee.
Chloe is so busy watching Dean she doesn't even notice Lois sliding onto the bench next to her. "Oliver left last night," Lois says her voice barely a whisper.
"I know." Chloe sips her coffee and refuses to look at her cousin.
"I mean left, left," Lois clarified. "Without orders, without permission."
"I know." Chloe feels her teeth grinding together and knows this is the beginning of a daylong headache.
Lois seems shocked at first the regains her ability to speak. "Why did Oliver leave last night?" she asks.
"We had a disagreement." Chloe tears a corner off of her toast and slips it under the table to Malachi.
"You had a fight so he left?" Lois scoots closer. "Well what kind of fight was it?"
"A bad one," Chloe admits closing her eyes. The dog lays his head on her knee and she runs her fingers through its fur.
"Was it about Dean?" Lois frowns and Chloe's eyes shoot open finally turning to look at her cousin.
"What? No. Why would it be about Dean?" Chloe asks, honestly confused.
"Come on, Chloe." Lois offers her cousin a look that says, 'for someone so smart, sometimes you can be so dumb'.
"No, it was about-" Chloe falters for a second then shakes her head, her anger from the day before coming back. "It was about Oliver not being able to grow up and take orders from me."
"You mean take orders from you and Dean." Lois grabs a piece of toast from Chloe's tray and bites into it. "Come on, for years it was you and Oliver teaming up against the world and suddenly with no warning he's pushed aside for Dean." Chloe glares at her cousin.
"It's not like that." Chloe shakes her head desperately. "If we were fighting some Meta freak of the week I'd go to Oliver, but we're not. We're in a war with the forces of hell here Lois. This is what Dean does, this is what he knows, this is what he's lived for the past twenty-eight years of his life. I'm not shoving Oliver aside for Dean; I'm making the best use of my resources."
"Ouch." Lois winces. "That came off slightly clinical. Making best use of your resources?"
"I can't afford to be anything less than clinical right now." Chloe stands up annoyed. "Don't you get that? I can't care that Oliver got his panties in a bunch because I didn't ask his opinion on something, because he's not my go-to guy anymore. I can't worry about the fact that he's having a hard time realizing that I'm the one in charge now. I have over a hundred other people out there, constantly looking to me for answers, for guidance and whether I ask Oliver or Dean, the final decision is on me. I'm the one that sends them out there every day, most likely to their deaths. I'm the one that has to make the choice. I'm the one that has to live with the consequences, so if Oliver wants to run off and have a temper tantrum that's fine with me, one less person that I have to worry about."
Chloe moves to storm off, but Lois puts a halting hand on her arm. She turns back, her breathing heavy to stare at her cousin. "I get that." Lois swallows. "I mean I don't think I really got it until just now. I still don't think I can fully understand what you're going through. But think about what you just said. You said you were using your resources to their best ability? Was Dean really the person to ask about trusting Kandorians? Does Dean have the history with them that you and Oliver have? I don't think there's really any way that I can understand a tenth of what you're going through right now and if having Dean, if trusting in Dean is what helps you get through this then that's great. But there are other people here, people who have knowledge, who have something to contribute and yes, while you make the final decision, and you do, we all accepted that a long time ago, you can't do everything on your own."
Chloe freezes because Lois is right. She hadn't realized until that moment how much she's come to rely on Dean for practically everything, how much she's come to value his opinion over everyone else's and Lois is right, he isn't exactly the authority on Kandorians. "Oh wow." Chloe sits back down. "I'm kind of a bitch."
Lois offers her a lopsided smile. "Yeah." Chloe turns to her and laughs. "But you kind of have to be right now and we get that, we really do but this has been really hard on Oliver, you've got to cut him some slack."
"Why has this been harder on Oliver than anyone else?" Chloe asks confused.
"Oh come on, Chloe." Lois stares at her cousin as if she'd just asked why you need to breathe to live. "The guy's like madly in love with you."
Chloe really has no response for that except to say, "I know" and that makes her sound even more horrible if that's possible. She'd thought with time that it would go away, sort of fade into the background but of course she can't be that lucky. Dean sits down next to Chloe and she turns to him as if he can offer her some sort of opinion or answer or anything.
Her face causes Dean to pause and set his plate down slowly. "What?" He looks to Chloe then Lois and then Sam who sits down across from them. "Do I have something on my face?"
::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
Chloe types something on the keyboard and then stops, taking a deep breath. "Cass." She turns around. "You've been standing there for fifteen minutes, is this another one of your creepy stalker moments or did you need something?"
Castiel pushes himself off the wall and walks further into the room. "Oliver left camp last night."
"Yes, I know." Chloe squeezes the bridge of her nose; she can feel another headache coming on. "We had a fight. He left. Could I have been a bit more sensitive? Yes, but this is not all my fault. He's acting like a child and I truly do not have the time to hold his hand through this whole thing. If you're here to tell me I need to apologize, I know that. I would go out there right now and find him and bring him back but I think the only way to do that would be to choose between him and Dean and you can save your breath because that's not going to happen."
"I was merely going to tell you that if he's not back tonight we'll need to find someone to take over his patrol," Castiel says.
"Oh." Chloe pauses slightly embarrassed. "Uh, Jason can take it." Chloe shakes her head. "Why isn't Jo the one telling me this?"
"She asked me to tell you," Castiel says. "She seemed slightly frightened by the prospect of coming anywhere near you today. I suppose I can understand why now."
"Cass, I really don't want another lecture," Chloe warns him.
"I don't lecture," he says offended by the accusation.
"No, you don't," Chloe corrects herself. "You simply stare at me with that look on your face. That 'I am an angel of the Lord and I know better than you' face. My dad used to have a face just like that. I didn't particularly care for it on him, so you can imagine how I feel about it on you."
"I'm just going to say one thing," Castiel says and Chloe wants to laugh, knowing there was no way he could pass up this opportunity. "I don't think it's about choosing. Oliver knew you before. He's a part of your life, a part of the life you had before all of this and that part of your life is just as important as all the new…parts. He knows you; he knows parts of you that Dean might never really understand because Oliver has been through things with you that Dean hasn't. They both have something different and equally important to offer you and I think you need both of them."
"Well thank you, that was completely unhelpful," she snaps at him, hating herself for the words even as they come out of her mouth. He simply stares at her and she sighs. "Was there something else?"
"You've changed," Castiel says after a minute.
She thinks about the months she's been in this camp, the hunts she's been on, the wild goose chases after the prophecy, the demons she's fought and killed and the people she's lost in those fights. But the hardest thing, the thing that she can never forget, not even for a second, the secret that she's been keeping from everyone for so long. The secret that she's going to kill God. "I've had to," Chloe says turning back to her computer screen.
"I know that," Castiel assures her. "But…"
"What?" Chloe turns to him and she suddenly looks more tired than he's seen her in a very long time.
"I miss you." He shrugs before turning around and walking out.
She knows what it must seem like to everyone else, that she's just turned into this cold hearted bitch and if that's what they need to believe then they're more than welcome to their assumptions. But it's not like that it hurts to thinks about the person she used to be, the person she had been with Castiel, the person she wishes she could be now. It hurts because she knows that she can't be that person anymore and she can't be that person anymore because the person who she was then wouldn't be able to make the decisions she has to make now. Chloe stares at the closed door that Castiel just disappeared through and sighs. "I miss me too," Chloe whispers before taking a deep breath, one day, maybe she can be that person again, but for now, there are more important things to do so she simply gets back to work.
April 30, 2011
Oliver sits on the top of the Clock Tower and stares at the city down below. People are rushing to and from work without a clue that in six months or three months or next week, the world could be over. They have no idea that a war is being fought right now for their souls. Half of their souls are probably not even worth saving.
He thought it would be easy, leaving the camp behind, returning to his normal life, but it's turning out more difficult than he imagined. Being back at the office, the place he has always felt the most comfortable and the most at home suddenly makes him feel awkward and out of place. The uniform he'd adopted at camp which consisted of his favorite ratty jeans and hoodie and a permanent five o'clock stubble makes him stand out like a sore thumb when he steps off the elevator into a sea of tailored suits.
He finally gave in two days ago and pulled one of his old suits out of the closet and slipped it on. It felt strange, it still feels strange and as he sits atop the Clock Tower, he loosens the tie, pulls it over his head and drops it down to the city street below.
Work itself was suddenly a foreign concept to him as well. The past months he's spent in almost non-stop training at the camp, honing his skills and even learning a couple of new ones serve him no purpose out in the real world. During the day it seems trivial, useless to sit in conference rooms all day and well into the night arguing about contract clauses and inventive ways to lower shipping costs for their overseas manufactures. Going out at night as the Green Arrow is done on autopilot, he hardly has to put any effort into at all.
Surprisingly, it's his personal accountant, Jerry, that poses the biggest challenge. He's been hounding Oliver since he got back, wanting to sit down with him for a few hours. According to his many, many e-mails, all he wants is to go over Oliver's most recent, somewhat schizophrenic and slightly extravagant purchases. Attached to the e-mail was a list of all the things Oliver's bought in the last year and scanning over it briefly he can see just why Jerry might have some questions. The problem is at this time, Oliver doesn't have any answers, so he's been using every trick and skill in his repertoire to avoid the man and it has not been easy. There have been one too many close calls; Oliver is starting to suspect that Jerry is actually some sort of secret ninja accountant.
He is determined to rough it out however. He's too proud to admit his wrongdoing and go crawling back to Chloe to ask for forgiveness. But also he's scared that even if he shows up on his hands and knees, Chloe won't take him back. He hears the distinct sound of fabric flapping in the wind but doesn't bother to turn around. "Did Chloe send you after me?"
"No," Castiel says and sits next to Oliver.
Oliver flinches, he's not sure what's more pathetic, that he wanted her to chase after him or that she didn't even bother. "Then what are you doing here?" He turns to face the angel. "I thought you were a good little soldier, always followed orders."
"She didn't tell me not to come after you," Castiel says, confused by Oliver's sarcasm.
"Then why are you here?" Oliver asks turning his attention back to the city.
"Because she needs you." Castiel squints in the sun and Oliver snorts.
"She doesn't need me." He looks around the city. "I really don't think she needs anyone now," he argues then mentally cringes. "Except maybe Dean."
"Yes," Castiel agrees. "Right now, to get through this, she needs Dean. But she needs you too. You're the strongest connection she has to her old life, to the life she had before. She's been doing everything in her power to push that life away, to blur the lines but she can't, you can't let her. Because one day this will be over and when that happens, she's going to need that old life to fall back on. Trust me, I know her and I know that deep down inside the only thing that's keeping her going is the hope that one day she can go back to being the person that she used to be."
"I don't think I'm strong enough," Oliver finally admits out loud. "I don't think I'm strong enough to stand there while she…I can't."
"You have to," Castiel says. "Because she needs you to be strong enough. It's not fair but in the coming months I don't think much is going to be fair anymore. We might as well get used to it."
Castiel is gone before Oliver can even formulate a comeback to that. Oliver might be feeling a little sorry for himself at the moment because it feels lately like no one really needs him anymore. His office is running more smoothly than when he was actually there on a daily basis. His team doesn't come to him anymore; they turn to Chloe for guidance for orders. He's not sure he believes Castiel, not sure he believes Chloe needs him but he knows one thing. He knows that he needs Chloe and he just hopes he's strong enough to be there when she stops needing him.
May 2, 2010
Chloe stares into her coffee cup debating on whether it's better to go hungry than eat what's sitting in the bowl in front of her. "It's not that bad," Lois says, swallowing with only a bit of difficulty. "If you drown it in butter and a little bit of sugar," she adds. "And maybe some ketchup." She thinks suddenly and stands to go in search of something, anything that might make breakfast palatable.
Ellen has declared the newly created dish to be called oatgrits. It's a 60/40 mix of grits and oatmeal. It was made out of necessity when she realized earlier that morning she didn't have nearly enough oatmeal to feed everyone and she'd be damned if she was going to make a second meal. Chloe was determined to suffer through it though, seeing as how it's her fault. Jo had tried to explain something to her about ordering more supplies for the sudden influx of recruits and she'd brushed her off, promising to do it in an hour and ended up burying it in a pile on her desk.
Her mind hasn't been in the best place and she totally blames Oliver. She looks around the Mess Hall and sees everyone else dutifully shoveling the gruel into their mouths as fast as they can so they don't have to taste it. They're doing everything in their power not to look at her because they all know it's her fault and they all think they know why.
The rumors of Oliver's departure from the camp have become greatly exaggerated in the week and a half he's been gone. They started out pretty close to the truth. That Chloe and Oliver had a fight, he got mad and left. The only thing they agree on is that the fight had something to do with Dean. Some are saying that Dean got in between Chloe and Oliver, others that Oliver got in between Chloe and Dean, and still another that even suggests Chloe was the one to come in between Oliver and Dean. She managed to trace that particular rumor back to Bart actually. According to him 90 percent of the females at the camp at some sort of crush on either Dean or Oliver and he was hoping starting the rumor might persuade a few of them to look his way.
Chloe wishes she could see the funny in the situation but it's really just more of an annoyance now because the entire story has ballooned out of control. According to the latest version she overheard this morning, their small shouting match has been turned into a fist fight where Dean ended up kicking Oliver out of the camp, physically. Dean's still slightly perceptible limp only adds fuel to their fire.
Chloe looks two tables over where he is spooning his oatgrits into Sam's bowl while Dinah distracts the younger Winchester with the undeniable power of early morning cleavage. Dean must be able to feel her watching him because he turns to her with a huge smile and winks, bringing a finger to his lips and Chloe nods. She's made it a point to keep her distance from Dean, only spending time around him when she absolutely has to, as not to give verification to any of the rumors, but even that's backfiring, as now they're just claiming Chloe and Dean are in a lover's spat over the fight.
"Okay." Lois sits back down, condiments spilling out of her arms. Chloe spies everything from ketchup to maple syrup to sriracha. "I think we can make this thing edible." Lois looks determined and Chloe laughs. "So what do you think sweet?" Lois asks, holding a bottle of chocolate sauce in her right hand. "Or savory?" She picks up a bottle of soy sauce with her left. Before Chloe can offer an opinion Lois smiles evilly and starts to pour both of them in.
She stirs the bowl energetically and Chloe is glad she hasn't eaten any of her breakfast because looking at Lois' bowl is turning her stomach. Lois loads her spoon takes a deep breath and then takes a big bite. The concoction could only have been on her tongue for a maximum of half a second before she spits it back into her bowl. "That was foul."
"Grits, Oatmeal, butter, sugar, chocolate sauce and soy sauce, how could that have possibly gone wrong?" Chloe snorts.
Lois grabs a napkin and wipes her tongue. "If you had just made the order instead of brooding about Oliver, I'd be having plain old oatmeal right now so you can keep your opinions to yourself," Lois says, then looks up shocked. She's the first one to actually call Chloe on the order mishap and the brooding about Oliver.
Before she can defend herself, she hears the familiar roar of Oliver's Ducati flying around the curves of the lake and coming to a stop in front of the Mess Hall. Chloe closes her eyes, wondering how he got past the front gate and more importantly what she's supposed to do now. She looks up to see every eye in the room on her, all of them wondering the exact same thing.
She stands up, her coffee cup in hand and turns around, heading for the door. As she passes by Dean's table, he nods slightly at her before standing up and following. They walk out in the open grassy area where Oliver is sliding off his bike, pulling off his helmet. He takes a deep breath and sighs in satisfaction before he sees her standing there her coffee held in front of her almost defensively. "Hey," he greets her.
She has no idea what to do here so she just greets him right back, "Hey." She knows he's waiting for her, waiting for her to do something, either forgive or condemn him. A small, petty part of her wants to order him away, remind him that rules are rules and if you leave you can't come back. That he didn't care enough to stay and work it out so he should have just stayed gone. That just because they're old friends doesn't mean he's the exception to the rules. But a bigger part of her, the part of her that she knew would win out in the end just misses her friend.
She can see they've accumulated a crowd now, they're not standing and staring, they're not that bold. They have all slowed their paces quite a bit though and there is a fair amount of rubber necking. She wishes they could do this quietly but it almost has to be done in public if only to keep the rumors to a minimum.
"How did it go?" Chloe asks throwing him a bone, hoping he can think fast enough on his feet to come up with something, anything so the both of them can save face. "Did you find something?" she asks, the taste of the coffee stale and bitter on her tongue.
Oliver's whole body seems to sag with relief and he grabs a hold of the bone. He knows how hard that was for her to do, how easy it would have been to turn her back and send him away. He's starting to think maybe Castiel is a little bit right and maybe she needs him too. "I did find something," Oliver says with a slow smile. "On your prophecy." Chloe's eyes light up when she realizes he's not making something up, he's telling the truth and he really has learned something about the prophecy. Even Dean offers him an amused smile.
"You found the prophecy?" Chloe asks him, excitement coursing through her veins. Vaguely she passes the coffee cup behind her, having no doubt by now that people have trickled out of the Mess Hall. Sure enough, someone grabs the cup from her.
"I found a lead on your prophecy," Oliver corrects her.
"Step into my office." Chloe smiles and heads across the lawn.
Dean steps forward and looks Oliver up and down. "Nice suit," he says with raised eyebrows.
Oliver looks down and seems surprised to find that he's still in his Armani slacks and jacket. "It's the costume for my secret identity," Oliver offers.
"Who are you supposed to be then?" Dean snorts. "Captain Douche bag?" Dean turns and follows Chloe to her cabin and Oliver looks up to see Castiel standing there staring at him.
"So glad I came back." Oliver sighs and follows after Dean, he misses the smile on Castiel' face.
::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
Everyone's gathered together in Chloe's cabin Oliver feels slightly strange as all the attention is turned onto him. This is Chloe's room, it was dubbed the Situation Room by Bart after the computer system was put in and all the screens installed. This is the place where Chloe does her work and gives her orders and it feels weird being the center of attention in this room. "So." Oliver clears his throat and looks at Chloe. "You've been looking for this thing for almost six months now and you haven't found anything about it right? No stories, no sightings nothing?"
"Yes, let's do rub that in as the first thing you do when you get back," Chloe says jokingly except it might be too early because everyone freezes. "Continue," Chloe says hesitantly.
"We've been going on the assumption that if it's not still buried in the Temple under the mountain-"
"Which I can assure you it is not," Castiel interrupts.
"Then a hunter must have it hidden away somewhere safe," Oliver finishes.
"Yeah." Chloe nods. When she first started to look for the prophecy, she remembered a story Dean had told her about his Dad having an old storage unit full of crap. There were tons of things that were too dangerous to keep in reach of the public, too dangerous to let fall into the wrong hands. They'd been going on the assumption that was the fate of the prophecy, sitting alone collecting dust on a shelf somewhere. It was possible the hunter might not even know what they had.
Chloe had been pouring over every entry on the website, every hunter's account searching for something, even if it was a passing mention of a box that couldn't be opened. They'd found a few boxes actually but when retrieved, they turned out to be nothing more than plain boxes. Some contained a cursed object, some of them were empty, and one of them simply housed an impeccably preserved pair of shoes from the 1920's. None of them contained the prophecy.
"It's an ancient mystical object. Who else besides hunters would know about it, would bother looking for it, would even want it?" Dean pipes up to defend Chloe.
Oliver smiles. "Rich people." It's like a massive switch is flipped on and everyone in the room utters a collective 'Oh'. "Rich people collect things, all kind of things. They collect things they think are valuable, things other people think are valuable. They collect things because they have the money to collect things, the stranger, the more obscure, the better."
"Rich people are weird." Dean shakes his head.
"Tell me about it." Oliver smiles at him. "The more I thought about it, the more sense it made. So I put out the word to a couple of acquaintances that I know who love to collect the more obscure items. They put me in touch with a couple of less than reputable guys whose sole job it is to acquire the more obscure items and I actually got a hit. Apparently the last person known to be in possession of a box fitting our description was a high-end fence named Bela Talbot."
Dean, Sam, and Bobby groan practically simultaneously and Chloe turns her attention to them. "You know her?"
"You could say that." Dean runs a hand through his hair. "We've had dealings with her in the past."
"She shot me," Sam grumbles annoyed rubbing his shoulder absentmindedly.
"Right, well do you know how to get in touch with her?" Chloe asks, the prospect of being this close to the actual prophecy making her less sympathetic to Sam's pain than she normally would be.
"She's dead," Dean breaks it to her.
"Awesome." Bart turns to Chloe. "Cause they couldn't have just made one thing easy for us."
"Where's the fun in that?" Chloe smiles. "So what do we do? Surely you have some experience in communicating with the…beyond. Is there a spell or a ritual?"
"You're serious?" Dean asks her. "You want to try and contact a dead woman?"
"This is the first actual lead we've ever gotten on the prophecy," Chloe says. "So if I have to talk to a dead woman, then I'm going to talk to a dead woman." She looks expectantly at Dean.
"Actually." Sam tilts his head. "I have an idea."
::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
Chloe opens the door to one of the Jeeps Oliver bought for the camp and turns back to Sam. "So this Missouri woman, you really think she can help us talk to Bela?"
"It's our best bet." Sam puts his hands in his pockets. "She can sense the dead, no reason to believe she can't also communicate with them."
"And you think she'll help us?" Chloe asks.
"I don't see why not." Sam shrugs.
"Okay then, Dean and I will go get this Missouri woman and hopefully by this time tomorrow we'll know where the Prophecy is." Chloe looks at Dean expectantly.
"Actually." Dean coughs. "I've got a few things to do here. I was going to put the new guys through some drills. And we need to make more demon-ready ammo and you know Bobby and Lucas don't really trust any of the others to do it right."
"Oh, sure." Chloe nods.
"Besides, this whole thing is Oliver's lead. He came up with it, he ran it down, and I really think he should be the one to see it through," Dean offers.
"Thanks." Oliver stands up straighter. "I'd really like that."
"Well." Chloe climbs in the jeep and closes the door. "We should probably head out."
::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
"I need to apologize," Oliver says as Chloe turns off the interstate. They've spent the first three hours of the drive making companionable small talk and purposely avoiding the giant elephant in the car with them.
"You really don't," Chloe says, keeping her eyes dead ahead on the road. "Right or left?"
"Left." Oliver checks the map. "And I really do." Oliver reaches out and grabs her arm. It's reminiscent of when he grabbed her arm a few days ago but this time it's gentler, there's no anger in his voice or in his grip. "I was acting like a sulking teenager. I was throwing a temper tantrum and I was way out of line. I had no right to question you. You're right, you make the decisions, and you give the orders."
"No." Chloe closes her eyes briefly. She supposes the car is as good a place as any to have this conversation, they can't exactly run away and she thinks that this might have been what Dean had in mind when he suggested Oliver go with her. Sneaky bastard. "I mean yes, I make the decisions, and I give the orders. When it comes down to it, it's on me."
"I just can't be like Dean." Oliver sighs. "He never questions you, follows you blindly. I can't do that, not after everything we've been through."
Chloe snorts and turns to him. "Is that what you think?" Oliver frowns confused. "You think Dean just follows my every order, never questions, and never complains?"
"That's what it looks like," Oliver points out.
Chloe laughs again. "Look, there are things that Dean and I don't agree on. He has a very black and white view of everything and you and I both know that there are always shades of grey. We argue a lot. He screams at me and I scream at him."
"When and where does all this screaming take place?" Oliver asks her confused.
"Away from camp. Usually in the clearing beyond the boat house on the other side of the lake." Chloe smiles. "Generally at night."
Oliver annoyingly feels a bit more respect for Dean now that he knows he stands up to Chloe. "There are a lot of calls I'm going to make, I have made, because they need to be made, not because I like them or even agree with them, but because it has to be done. When you don't agree with them fight me on them, just you know not in front of everyone else. I can't have you undermining me, questioning me in front of them, because if you're questioning me, they'll start to question me."
"I understand." Oliver nods.
"Look, I know that even if he doesn't agree with something, Dean will still follow my orders, still do whatever it is he doesn't want to do because he trusts me. What I need from you, what I really need is to know that even if you don't always agree with me, you've got my back."
"Always," Oliver promises her, hurt that she could ever question that. Though he supposes his actions the past few days have put that loyalty into question. "You really value my opinion as much as Dean's?" he asks because as lame as it sounds he needs that reassurance.
"You know me Oliver, you know how I think. We've been through things together, gone down the same holes and dug ourselves back up again. You've been places with me that Dean hasn't, can't ever go. You know how far I can go and still get pulled back. Dean doesn't," Chloe admits to him.
"So what you're saying is you need me to be your moral center?" Oliver scrunches up his nose. "Wow, we're all doomed to hell."
Chloe laughs and things feel like they might be getting back to normal. As normal as it can be anyway. She turns down the next street and slows as she comes to a house on the corner. "I think this is the place." Chloe stops the car and puts it in park.
"What?" Oliver looks out the window confused. "How do you know?"
Chloe gets out of the car and nods at the woman standing on the front steps. The woman who has to be Missouri. "Chloe, Oliver, about damn time you got here." She walks down a few steps and stars at them. "I've been waiting since five o'clock yesterday."
"We got here as fast as we could." Chloe chuckles at her.
Missouri snorts. "Barely drove five miles over the speed limit. It's not like it's the end of the world or anything." Chloe and Oliver exchange a look. "Well, come on in, we don't have all day." Oliver and Chloe look confused. "Boy, I know you were raised better than that, my bags are in the hallway." Oliver seems to come to his senses and nods in understanding. "And Chloe, the bathroom's first door on your left but you have to jiggle the handle or the toilet will keep running."
"Yes ma'am." Chloe doesn't even realize until that moment how badly she has to use the bathroom. She runs past Missouri to into the house.
"Slow down, or you're going to break the vase in the hall," Missouri turns to tell her.
"Huh?" Chloe stops, bumping into the edge of the table and knocking a vase to the floor. "Oh, sorry." She looks up sheepishly.
Missouri sighs and shakes her head. "It's my fault, I knew that was going to happen. I should have just moved it." She turns around to Oliver who is staring at her strangely.
"Did Dean call you and tell you we were coming?" he asks.
"Of course not." Missouri snorts.
"Then how did you know?" Oliver crosses his arms over his chest.
"I'm psychic child." Missouri shakes her head at him. "How do you think I knew?"
"Right." Oliver nods still unsure.
"Don't take that tone with me boy." She glares at him. "Now make yourself useful and go get the broom."
"Yes ma'am." Oliver walks off in the direction of the kitchen.
The ride back to camp is somehow more strained than the ride there because it seems, to Oliver at least, that Missouri is under the impression that he's not good for much and feels the need to tell him this, in various ways, throughout the whole drive. It started with an innocent enough comment, "Glad you finally swallowed your pride and apologized. This poor girl has enough going on right now without having to worry about you and your tantrums." It evolved from there to criticisms on his driving; it was too fast, then too slow. Then she didn't like his taste in music, but when he turned the radio off she got annoyed because it was too quiet. By the time they were pulling up into the camp she was finishing up a tirade on how Queen Industries was contributing to the decimation of the planet.
Oliver barely resists the urge to point out that they are the leaders in the Corporate Green movement, that their projects are more energy efficient and environmentally conscious than any other organization out there, and also that seeing as how the world is likely going to end in a biblical showdown he thinks recycling is really the least of their problems but Chloe simply shakes her head and he bites his tongue.
"Sam!" Missouri smiles climbing out of the car and giving the younger Winchester a big hug. Chloe and Oliver follow her out. "Dean." She nods coldly at the older Winchester and Chloe tries and fails to hide her smile. She slips one arm in Chloe's and the other in Sam's and pulls them away. "Fill me in on everything, then we can get started on this little séance you want me to do."
"Sure." Sam nods. She stops as she notices Oliver and Dean following closely behind them and she gives Oliver a glare.
"What now?" he asks exasperated.
"My bags," she says as if it's obvious. "Bring them to my cabin. I'm sure that Jo's set up my cabin right?" This question is directed at Dean who fumbles for an answer and Missouri snorts. "Can't do anything right."
"We didn't realize you'd be staying." Dean tries to defend himself.
"It's the end of the world, of course I'm staying," she snaps at him. "Where else would I go?"
"Dean, have Jo ready a cabin for Missouri," Chloe says softly trying to defuse the situation.
"Aren't you a sweetheart?" Missouri pats Chloe's arm and Chloe beams.
"Sure thing." Dean nods pulling out his phone to send Jo a text.
"And I'm not sleeping on any bunk bed." She laughs sweetly and yet at the same time glaring menacingly at him.
"We don't have any single cabins." Dean raises his eyebrow.
"I'm sure Jo can come up with something," Chloe says pointedly and Dean sighs and nods as they walk off to Chloe's cabin.
Dean finishes sending his text to Jo, telling her she's going to have to somehow come up with a single cabin and letting her know that if she has any complaints, she can bring it up with Chloe. "So everything went okay then?" Dean asks Oliver.
"She hates me." Oliver grunts pulling the bags out of the trunk.
As if sensing that she's being talked about Missouri turns around. "Be careful with those," she yells at Oliver, narrowing her eyes.
Dean smiles and claps him on the back. "Welcome to the club." Dean grabs the other bag and helps Oliver haul them to the main room until Jo can get the cabin set up. "But I meant-"
"I know what you meant," Oliver says dropping his bag. "We're good." He turns to Dean. "No more breakdowns or storm offs that are better suited to a reality TV show."
"That's good to know," Dean says.
Oliver turns to leave then stops and looks at Dean. "I don't really know her anymore." Oliver finally voices his fears out loud. "Not as well as I used to."
"No," Dean says simply. "You don't."
"I kind of want to blame you for that." Oliver admits to him.
"If you need to." Dean shrugs.
"I need to know that you're-" Oliver pauses unsure how to word it exactly. "Chloe is special."
"I know," Dean tells him.
"I mean even before all this, before angels and demons before the end of the world and strange bone carvings—she's special. She's probably the most truly unique person I've ever met in my life. She'll do anything for anyone. She cares about everyone so much, sometimes even more than she cares for herself. She's so amazing that half the time I can't believe I've ever managed to actually meet someone like her," Oliver tells him.
"I know all this Queen." Dean leans against the door frame. "Anyone who spends more than an hour with Chloe knows all this."
"I know." Oliver runs his hands through his hair. "I know. It's just…to do what she needs to do, she needs me to back off and she needs you to step up and I can't do that unless I know, unless you can promise me…"
"I've got her." Dean nods without Oliver even having to finish the sentiment. "I've got her."
"Okay," Oliver says.
::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
Two hours later, Sam and Chloe have filled Missouri in on everything they know, everything that's happened and they're all gathered back in the Situation Room. "So you want me to contact Bela so she can tell you where this Prophecy is?" Missouri asks Chloe.
"Can you do it?" Chloe asks hopefully.
"I can do it." Missouri says slowly. "I'm just not sure I should."
"What does that mean?" Dean leans forward a bit.
"Nothing." Missouri takes a deep breath and smiles at Chloe. "Have you ever had a séance before?" Chloe shakes her head and Missouri smiles bigger.
She has them all sit around the table in a circle and hold hands. She doesn't bother with lighting candles or incense or pulling out a cheesy crystal ball because as she's told Dean, "I'm not some con artist carnival psychic who pretends to talk to dead through a freaking paper weight. Now make yourself useful and be quiet."
She doesn't say much, she doesn't really say anything at all. There is no 'calling upon the spirits of the underworld' or any of that nonsense. She simply closes her eyes and breathes deeply. She makes a few undecipherable noises but is otherwise completely silent. "When's this going to start?" Dean whispers out of the side of his mouth to Chloe.
Without even opening her eyes Missouri slides her hand out of Deans and uses it to smack him upside the head. "Boy, don't be rude." Dean winces and rubs his head. "I'm having a conversation here."
"You're not even talking." Dean protests and she cracks an eye to glare at him.
"I'm talking to her psychically. I wouldn't expect you to understand." She snorts and closes her eye again. After a few more minutes of silence, Missouri opens both of her eyes. "She knows where it is, but she won't help unless we give her a reprieve."
"A reprieve?" Chloe shakes her head confused.
"She's in hell," Dean speaks up. "She made a deal with a Crossroads Demon. That's how she died, her ten years were up and she had to uphold her part of the bargain. So she's in hell, she's been there for a couple of years now which is like decades down there. If we give her a body, she gets a break, if only for a few minutes. That's all you live for down there, the prospect, the idea that at some point you might actually get a break."
"Is it dangerous?" Chloe asks Missouri.
"Not exactly." She looks at Chloe. "Only if she refuses to leave, but consenting to this is a deal like any other. As long as you make strict specifications, she should adhere to them."
"No way." Dean shakes his head. "No way, no how."
"I need that Prophecy, she wants a body," Chloe says. "I don't see the big deal?"
"That's because you don't know Bela," Dean tells her. "She can't be trusted, every word that comes out of her mouth is a lie and that was before she spent decades in hell."
"She shot me," Sam reiterates.
Dean nods at Sam as if that's all the proof they could need. "She could just be yanking us around and I'm not taking that chance."
"You aren't," Chloe tells him. "I am, and this is the only shot I've got so it's not like I really have a choice in the matter."
"You could just not do it," Dean offers and Chloe shakes her head. "Okay then, I'll do it."
"You can't." Missouri frowns. "She says she'll only talk to you; only tell you what she knows."
Dean curses under his breath and sits back down, all out of options. "Sam?" Chloe turns to him for his opinion.
"Did I mention that she shot me?" Sam offers.
"So I'll make sure I put away my gun," Chloe says. When no one else has anything to say Chloe turns to Oliver. "What do you think?"
Oliver seems surprised at first, glances at Dean who looks like he'll hop over the table and strangle Oliver at one wrong word. "I think this prophecy is about you, I think you're the only one who can say whether or not the risk is worth the reward."
Chloe smiles at him and Dean glares even harder, she turns to Missouri and rubs her hands together. "Okay, what do I need to do?"
"Chloe," Dean calls her name and she ignores him.
"Not now." She brushes him off.
"You need to set a time limit," Missouri tells her.
"What do you think? Ten minutes?" Chloe bites her lip. "Is that too long? Not long enough?"
"Chloe," Dean calls her name again. "I need to talk to you."
"Not now Dean," she snaps this time and the whole room goes eerily quiet.
"Excuse us," Dean says slowly, grabbing Chloe's arm gently and pulling her into the bedroom. He quietly closes the door behind them.
"What the hell was that?" She chuckles slightly as Dean begins to pace.
"You're not doing this," Dean tells her.
"I am doing this actually." Chloe makes a move to walk past him and he grabs her arm more strongly this time. "Dean?" She looks down at his fingers curled around her elbow and then up at his face. "You really want to let go of me."
"Not until you listen." Dean steers her away from the door. "God you are so blinded by this quest of yours, this stupid prophecy that you're rushing into this thing without thinking it through," Dean snaps.
Chloe sets her jaw when she realizes he's serious. "I thought it through and I made my decision, what I don't know is why we're still talking about it."
"We're still talking about it because you're not listening to me," Dean tells her.
Chloe scoffs. "You know, Oliver was just talking about how you don't make waves, about how you follow my lead like a good little…"
"Like a good little soldier?" Dean laughs. "I guess that's how it looks to everyone huh. Like I follow you around like a lap dog, always there with a yes ma'am, never a no ma'am. Just waiting for whatever scraps you want to through my way."
"That's not what I meant." Chloe sinks down into the bed. "And that's not how I see you."
"I know." Dean deflates. "You just…you don't understand what you're agreeing to here."
"I'm loaning out my body for ten maybe fifteen minutes, it's not that big a deal." Chloe softens slightly, realizing that made her sound a bit like a prostitute.
"It is that big a deal." Dean takes a breath and sits on the bed next to her. He obviously feels passionate about this so she can at least give him the benefit of the doubt and hear him through. "When you let her borrow your body, whether it's for ten minutes or two hours, it doesn't matter, she'll be in your head."
"I'm not worried about-" Chloe stands but Dean's not finished.
"More importantly you'll be in hers," Dean says and this makes Chloe pause. "She's been in hell for three years our time, that's centuries down there. The things she's seen, the things she's felt, the things she's done, you'll see it all, and you'll feel it all. Do you get that?"
Chloe sinks back down to the bed, her body suddenly very heavy. "OK."
"OK?" Dean asks. "OK, what?"
"Okay, now I know." Chloe stands and walks to the door and Dean follows her. "And my decision is still the same."
"I don't understand…" Dean slams his hand against the door keeping it closed and Chloe turns around. He's right there, in front of her. They're standing chest to chest, nose to nose and Dean leans his forehead against hers in exhaustion. "I don't understand why you need to go through all this to read something you already know."
Chloe closes her eyes and she thinks maybe she can tell him, maybe she can tell him and he'll understand and she doesn't have to do this alone. "I just…I need to see it." Dean lets out a deep breath and pushes himself away from the door, turning his back on her. "I get that you don't understand and I wish I could explain it to you, but I can't. I just need you to trust me."
"Fine." Dean nods and walks past her, opening the door.
"Dean." Chloe reaches out to grab his arm but he pulls away.
"I said fine," he calls over his shoulder and walks back in the room. "Alright then, let's get this started."
No one dares move or breathe until Chloe follows Dean into the room. "You heard the man, let's do this." She looks over at Missouri. "So what did we decide? Do we need to go up to fifteen minutes?"
"She's agreed to ten." Missouri nods, frowning between her and Dean. "Whenever you're ready."
"I'm ready." Chloe takes a deep breath. "So how will we-" She stops mid-sentence, falling into the chair and closing her eyes.
"Chloe?" Dean asks stepping forward.
Chloe opens her eyes and tilts her head. She smiles at Dean and it's strange, it's not Chloe's smile at all and he steps back. Chloe stands up and stretches her arms into the sky. "You have absolutely no idea how amazing it feels to stretch your arms." Her voice has taken on a slight Estuary English accent. "Or how divine it feels to simply have arms again. It's been ages." She pulls her hands down and studies her fingers.
"Bela," Dean snarls.
She looks at Dean. "I suppose you would actually know how amazing that feels."
"Can we cut the small talk please?" Dean cuts her off. "We've got ten minutes and I'd rather not waste it taking a trip down the memory lane to hell with you."
"Oh I'm sorry," Bela snaps at him. "We can't all be as lucky as you. To have an army of angels lay siege to the denizens of hell just to pull our asses out of the pit."
"Yeah, well it hasn't been all sunshine and roses since I got back," Dean snaps at her.
"I'm sorry; you just took me away from having my very own entrails fed to me." Bela turns to Dean annoyed. "How did you spend your weekend?" Dean has the decency to look ashamed at least.
"There's an apocalypse going on in case you didn't get the memo," Sam interrupts.
"Oh Sam, still bitter I see." Bela puts her hands on her hips.
"You shot me."
"Four years ago for you, and a hell of a lot longer for me," Bela reminds him. "I think I more than got my just desserts." Sam actually has nothing to say to that and Bela offers him a smug smile. "Also, I actually am up to date on current events, though we don't exactly get the news down there…" She tilts her head. "Well except for FOX." Oliver snorts and Bela turns her attention to him. "And who exactly are you?" She smiles and looks him up and down. Oliver frowns, he really doesn't like it, because it's Chloe but at the same time it's so not Chloe. "Come to think of it, who exactly am I?" Bela looks down and studies Chloe's body. "I'm awfully short aren't I?'
"OK, let's get on with this." Dean growls as Bela runs her hands experimentally up and down Chloe's body. "The Solomon Prophecy, what do you know?"
"That it's a lame name for a prophecy." Bela sits back down in the chair and spins it around. Dean leans forward and grabs the back of the seat, stopping her momentum and turning her to face him. "Especially one about the apocalypse. You think they could have come up with something scarier like the Prophecy of Doom, or possibly more apt, like This is the Way the World Ends."
"We know you had it at one point in time." Bela nods noncommittally. "Do you still have it?"
"Think I left it in my other pants." Bela tilts her head. "You want me to pop back down to hell and pick it up."
"Did you sell it?" Dean asks and Bela cuts her eyes to the other people in the room. "Oh come on, I doubt any of them care about your nefarious pre-death dealings."
"They don't but my clients will." Bela laughs. "Most of my more…delicate deals carry a secrecy clause that does not break even in the event of my death. I cannot reveal the details of any of my deals to any other living soul."
"Does this particular deal carry that clause?" Dean sighs as Bela nods. "How were you planning on getting around that?"
"That's where you come in." Bela smiles at her own genius. "I can't tell them to whom I sold the prophecy but I can tell you."
"And what makes him so special?" Oliver asks.
"He's dead," Bela says. "Well not anymore obviously but he was dead, so now he's technically undead, either way he doesn't count as living."
"And that's a thought that's bound to keep me warm at night." Dean rubs a hand over his face. He turns to the others and nods to the door. They all leave the room and Dean sits down in his chair. "Alright, who'd you sell it to?"
"Now Dean we've got…" She looks down at her watch. "Seven more minutes."
"Of course." Dean leans back. "How's it been?" He turns his head to look at her and they both laugh. "Stupid question, huh?"
"Little bit." Bela wipes her eye.
"Did you read it?" Dean asks her suddenly serious. "The prophecy?"
Bela snorts. "No one's read it, not in over two and half thousand years."
"You weren't tempted?" Dean leans forward. "You had the box; you had the blueprint for the end of the world. You can't tell me you weren't even a little bit tempted."
"Oh I was tempted." Bela smiles. "That kind of knowledge, right at my fingertips? I'd kill for it…well long as you promise not to tell anyone, I actually did kill for it." She laughs but this time Dean doesn't join in. "I couldn't get the box open, tried for two years, called in all sorts of favors, used hoodoo, voodoo, black magic, nothing worked so I gave up, sold it as is. Made enough to buy a villa in Spain."
"So you don't know what it says?" Dean asks casually, a little too casually and Bela gets suspicious.
"Why do you want to know what it says?" Bela asks him. "You never struck me as the type to worry about something like prophecies or destiny." She squints at him, studying him and he can't help but squirm a bit. "You don't care, not about the prophecy but about…" Bela smiles pleased with herself and looks down at Chloe's body. "She cares." Bela finally understands. "And you care about her."
"This is not a discussion I'm having with you." Dean gets up and walks around the table.
"Oh Dean." Bela laughs pityingly at him. "She's the one then. The one the prophecy is about."
"That's what they tell me." Dean nods.
"Oh she's so much more than that," Bela says and Dean turns around intrigued. "And you have no idea. No idea who she really is or what she's supposed to do." Bela shakes her head. "I wonder if she does." Bela closes her eyes rifling through Chloe's thoughts. "Oh she is a naughty girl, keeping such a big bad secret from you."
Dean's jaw clenches and he swallows hard. "If she's keeping something from me, she's doing it for a good reason."
"Oh it's a good reason alright." Bela laughs. "I'm almost tempted to tell you myself but I think, I think it's better if you find out on your own."
Dean is really tired of all this. "A minute thirty," he says looking at his watch. "You want to fulfill your part of the bargain now?"
Bela stares at him for a second then grabs a pen off the table. She takes Dean's hand and flips his palm up. Slowly she writes something on it before dropping the pen back to the table and smiling. "That's the guy I sold it to, whether he still has it or not, I have no clue. I've been a bit out of the loop lately."
"Thanks." Dean starts to step back and she tightens her hold on his wrist.
"One more thing, before I go back?" Dean hesitates and she sighs. "I'm going back there for all eternity, give me five more seconds." Her tone is so earnest and her face, Chloe's face, is so desperate that Dean agrees.
"Five seconds," he tells her.
She smiles up at him, brings a hand to his cheek and leans up on her tiptoes to kiss him, softly. When he doesn't reciprocate she presses harder, sliding her tongue against his lips, urging him to open his mouth for her. To her surprise he does, he pushes his fingers into her hair and pulls her closer. She smiles against his lips, chuckling a bit and that brings him back to reality and he shoves her away. She licks her lips and smiles. "I always wanted to do that while I was alive, never got the chance," she says and Dean is glaring at her, his breathing heavy. "I'd tell you to be careful but…considering I don't think it was me you were kissing back there, that warning probably comes a bit too late."
Dean softens slightly. "Bela, if there was anything I could do…"
"I know." She smiles at him. "So noble. I still have it you know." Dean frowns at her not following. "The villa in Spain. It was under a different name, Mina Harker, so she technically stills own it. If you ever wanted to visit Europe, you're more than welcome to use it. Spare keys in planter by the fountain, but then you never were one for using keys."
"Thanks, I'll…thanks." Dean shakes his head, unable to reconcile this Bela with the Bela he knows. She winks at him one last time and then Chloe's body goes limp and collapses against the table.
"Chloe?" Dean asks, rushing forward to support her, to keep her upright.
"Yeah, I'm here. I'm fine." She slowly regains her footing. It takes her a minute to realize that Dean's still holding onto her and even after they understand the compromising position they find themselves in Dean doesn't let go. She trails her hand down his shoulder and grabs his wrist, flipping his hand palm side up. "She told you?"
"Yeah." Dean coughs and looks down at his hand.
"Oracle, run a search on a Benjamin Parker," Chloe calls out. She doesn't drop Dean's hand, she doesn't pull away.
"Do you remember?" Dean asks her. "Could you…"
"No." Chloe shakes her head. "I was too busy trying to not see the stuff in her head…you were right."
"She told me-" Dean sighs. "She said you were keeping something from me, something about the prophecy."
"I have no idea what that's about." Chloe drops his wrist and turns away. "She must have made it up."
"She sounded convinced," Dean presses her. "More worried actually."
"Well then she's mistaken," Chloe snaps at him. "She's been in hell for over a hundred years, the things I saw in just ten minutes…I'm sure that could twist anyone's mind."
"She just didn't seem twisted." Dean shrugs. "Anymore than usual that is."
"Dean, I…" Chloe turns to him as Oracle's search finishes letting out a beep she sighs and turns back around to look at the screen. "He's in New York." Chloe reaches forward and types something quickly. "Oliver was right."
"He's a rich guy?" Dean walks up beside her, letting the previous conversation drop but vowing not to forget about it.
"Central Park West address, total net worth in the billions." Chloe nods. "Get everyone back in here. We've got some work to do."
War,
Children,
It's just a shot away
It's just a shot away
-The Rolling Stones
