SpnxDarkAngel xover: Tiny Faces part 2
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Title: Tiny Faces
Author: alessandra_c
Summary: "Alec didn't know what he was expecting when he opened the motel door with a key he pulled from a dead man's pocket, but it wasn't a shotgun pointed at his chest by a pint sized midget wearing his face." Alec finds himself back in time. Reversing the idea of Dean raising his clones. Supernatural Dark Angel crossover time travel
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They stayed in Missouri till the beginning of summer, with Dean, curiously sitting through sixth grade (never having been in the same class for that long before) and Sammy causing Alec headaches whenever his teachers called the older man in to discus 'special' placement for his 'bright nephew'.
The transgenic decided that he hated parent teacher meetings. At least the ones with Dean's teachers were more interesting (usually them complaining how the young boy managed to acquire all his classmate's allowances on a weekly basis).
Alec used the months to develop his 'researching' skills (after Singer flat out refused to spoon feed him cases any more). He still couldn't work a computer past opening a search bar, but managed to find and put down a handful of hauntings and what turned out to be a possessed tree all by himself.
But alas, all good things must come to an end.
After determining that all supernatural activity within a three days drive of their little Missouri town was put down, Alec decided that it was time to move to greener hunting grounds.
A CEO in Florida went missing, and his body was found seven miles away with its feet worn out from walking. Alec hadn't dealt with witches before, and thought it was time to expand his repertoire to curses.
Sammy cried while saying goodbye to Joshua, but Alec made sure that the dog had a good home with an old couple he saved, so he tried not to let it get to him.
Dean just watched their home for the last few months vanish out the window.
"You ok?" Alec asked, trying to drown out the quiet sniffing of Sammy in the back. The older boy looked at him, unblinkingly.
"Are we going to stay this long in the next place?" he asked.
Alec shrugged. "If I can find a hunt."
Dean nodded in acceptance (a gesture Alec had begun to associate with Dean comparing his 'uncle' to his father). "Ok. It was nice, though."
The knife of guilt dug a little deeper and twisted.
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It took a surprisingly short time for Alec to set up a base and make sure his charges were settled in. He resigned himself to letting these activities become habit, and tried not to think about how many more times he would need to repeat the process before the kids were old enough to take care of themselves.
There were fruit trees behind the small apartment, and Alec spent the afternoon after they were done unpacking showing the boys all the edible plants. All were still in bloom and not ready to bare fruit, but Sammy delighted in imagining what the exotic treats would taste like once they were ripe and ready to be harvested.
Alec kept his answers on how long they were staying deliberately vague so those sparkling eyes wouldn't dim just yet.
Luckily it was now summer vacation so he didn't need to worry about signing the boys up for school till the fall. Thank goodness for small favors.
The next morning, after setting the boys up with money and instructions for the day, Alec picked up a fake reported ID and walked to the scene of the strange crime.
Office big shot walks himself to death, sounded like witch craft and curses. So if a witch was out to get revenge on a man, the witch must know him personally. What better place was there to create a grudge than against your boss at work?
He waltzed up to the sprawling building, taking a moment to survey the reflective glass windows towering seven floors above his head. The receptionist inside, a man with sandy blonde hair and a name tag that said 'Arnie Smythe' snapped his pink bubblegum at Alec.
"Newspaper hu? Ol' Young never was this popular before his little breakdown."
"Oh?" Alec said pleasantly.
"Yep," the man grinned wickedly. "No one in the office liked him, he liked to fire floor staff if his coffee was cold. I'm just glad I run coffee for the other side of the building."
"What a jerk!" Alec agreed. "Who did he fire recently?"
The receptionist tapped his cheek thoughtfully. "I can't name names off the top of my head, but if you need it for your article I can print something up."
"That would be great! I could turn it into a character piece on the morality of office life."
Arnie chuckled as his fingers flew across the keyboard. "Sounds fun."
"Think I could stop by later to chat some more?" Alec asked as he gratefully too the printout handed to him. "You know to double check my facts."
The secretary shrugged. "Sure, doesn't bother me at all."
With a wave he departed the building.
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"So, what can you tell me about the incident involving Mr. Young?" Alec asked, pen poised over his imaginary reporter's notepad.
The woman he was interviewing (second from the bottom on the list) rubbed her hands together distractedly. "Well, and I'm sure I'm not the first to tell you this, but that man had it coming."
"You're not," Alec assured. "Many of your former colleagues share your sentiments."
Mrs. Hubbly sniffed. "He was an ass. Never struck me as the kind to have a nervous breakdown, but neither did that guy at the coffee shop, so I guess you just never know."
Alec's scribblings slowed. "Coffee shop?"
"Oh, that's right you're not from around here. Yes, the man who owned the coffee shop on Main Street claimed that green eyes monsters were chasing him. Next thing anyone knows he's catatonic in the hospital."
"Wow, that's crazy. Can you tell me anything else about it?"
She shrugged. "I was never a coffee runner, so I never went there."
Alec gave his most charming smile. "Well thank you ma'am, you've been really helpful!"
One quick stroll later, and Alec was talking with the new manager of 'Brew Lala', sipping on a vanilla latte.
"Mr. Johnson?" the young man asked. "Yeah, he was a real jerk. Always commenting on how nice everyone's things were compared to his own. It wasn't even like he couldn't afford that kind of stuff either, he was just too cheep to do it."
"And you say he started hallucinating?"
"Yep," he huffed. "You know, like what parents tell kids 'bout the 'Green Eyed Monster'. We all thought it was funny, until he apparently scared himself to death. His son owns the place now, so at least I still have a job."
Alec made a note on his paper. "This is going to sound random, but do you think this incident has anything to do with the 'nervous breakdown' of a Mr. Young? For example, were he and Mr. Johnson friends?"
The manager rubbed his chin. "Friends? No, but that guy's secretary always brought his a double espresso every morning. Nice guy, but he'll rot his teeth out one of these days."
"Hm. Thanks, you've been really helpful. I'll be sure to quote you if I use this in my article."
Folding up his legal pad, Alec shakes the man's hand and returns to the motel, brain itching as he went.
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Muffled mewling, like a kitten in a cardboard box, pulled Alec out of his subconscious' delectable image of the various uses for chocolate syrup. Rough fabric scraped against his cheek as he listened, wondering if it was just the creaky building making noises in the night or something more sinister.
The cry stifled itself again, and Alec looked over to the twin lumps one bed over.
"Dean?" he whispered. The whimpering stopped, as though a fist had been clamped down tightly over tiny lips. Alec sat up, wincing at the loud creak of springs. "Hey, you ok kiddo?"
"Sorry sir," the pre-teen's quiet voice said at last. "I didn't want to wake Sammy up."
Alec ran a hand over his eyes, not bothering to turn on the light. "Do you want to come over here and talk about it?"
The silence lasted long enough that Alec thought Dean had fallen back asleep, but the other mattress creaked and soft feet fell on the threadbare carpet. Wearing a too big t-shirt that reached his knees, the eldest Winchester boy cautiously settled himself on the edge Alec's bed. The kids arms twisted around his body in what might have been an attempt to keep himself warm, if the creeping heat of summer didn't fill the room.
"Want to talk about it?" Alec offered again, tempted to lay a hand on his mini-maker's shoulder. Dean shook his head (he would need a haircut soon the older man noted). "Ok." They sat in silence.
"Do," Dean's voice cracked, "do you remember what my mom was like?" The question was like a whispered prayer.
Alec thought fast. The file at Manticore remained disturbingly vague about the Winchester matron, only including a yellowing photo obviously taken from some school records. "We were cousins," he fell back on his cover story, "but we weren't very close."
"Oh." The syllable made the transgenic's heart throb.
"She was very beautiful," he shot out. "Mary had the prettiest blond hair I've ever seen. She had these laugh lines around her eyes, because she smiled so much, but you could tell she was also tough."
He could feel Dean's eyes on him as he held that picture of the young Mary Winchester firmly in his mind, trying to glean as much information as possible from the image. The boy shifted on the bed, leaning in closer, as if each word was a balm against a burning wound.
"I know she loved her family very much. I know she loved you very much." After all, what mother didn't? This might have been the wrong thing to say, because salty tears began to fall down the boy's already wet face.
Alec moved to wrap an arm around his thin shoulders. The boy stiffened, and for a moment he thought he had done the wrong thing again. Strong thin fingers wrapped themselves into his shirt, banishing such doubt.
"She," Dean gasped, "she used to say that angels were watching over me."
Alec rubbed small circles on his back, the way he remembered seeing a mother do once.
"Then the f-fire ha-happened and-," tremors wracked the little body in Alec's arms and he tightened the hug reflexively.
"Is that what woke you up?" he asked softly. "Remembering?"
A nod pressed itself into his ribs. "Sammy was only a baby and Dad told me to run and take him outside. I can he-hear her screaming in my head, even though Dad said she was d-dead before the fire. The smoke's in my eyes, but I can still-I can still see it get her. Then it gets D-dad. Then it starts to reach for S-sammy, and I can't- I can't- s-stop it." The rest of the sentence vanished into silent sobs, and Alec feels completely out of his depth.
"Shh, there there," he tries. "Look, Sammy's ok. He's over there sleeping. I won't let anything get you guys."
A tear streaked face turned to him. "B-but it got Dad. Dad was-" the boy's breath hitched.
Alec held him close. "Your father didn't have anyone watching his back and got caught by surprise. He didn't have a unit to hunt with."
"Weren't you there with him?"
Damn. "I was a step behind. He left me behind and by the time I caught up, the thing had already gotten him." The shaking intensified. "He got the monster though. Went down like a true soldier."
Dean clung to his 'uncle's' chest. "You go out alone."
"I'm just taking easy assignments until you can come help me with the hard ones when you're older."
"Oh." Darkness pressed against the pair, lukewarm air billowing through the window. Alec dozed against the headboard of the bed, still holding his charge.
"I won't let anything happen to you," the childish promise whispered.
Alec smiled. "Me neither kid."
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Alec sighed as he fished in his pocket for the hotel keys. Another day and he was no closer to solving this case that when he started. In fact he was even further away.
Two more cases like the 'Green Eyed Monster' and the compulsive road walking had turned up in his interviewing. A dry cleaner with a tendency to stealing cloths gets his wardrobe eaten out by moths, and a mailman with a penchant for stealing checks out of the mail ends up trapped in a blue mail box on the corner.
Alec couldn't find any connecting feature between the cases, other than the fact that all the locations were frequented by employes of Mr. Young's company.
The lock to the room clicked and he pushed the door open with a shoulder.
"I'm back," he called, stepping neatly over the salt line on the floor.
There was no reply. The hairs on the back of Alec's neck stood up.
"Dean? Sammy?" In two steps he passed the counter (no note) and beds (shotgun barrel still poking out under the mattress) and opened the bathroom door (sink was dry, they've been gone for a few hours at least).
Adrenalin spiked through his blood, sharpening his focus as he combed the room. Salt lines were in place still, so it couldn't be a spirit. Unless a human knew to step over them they wold have been broken by someone carelessly walking through the door, so Alec lessened his suspicion of a human kidnapper, though he did not dismiss the possibility.
It was times like these he wished his cocktail included some kind of (gag- dare he say it?) tracking dog. Joshua (the transgenic, not the dog left behind in Missouri) would have been able to find the kids even if they were across town.
Alec traced his fingers over the door frame, and paused over one of the delicately scratched protective symbols. It was an obscure Indian symbol from the worshipers of Kali, meant to ward off and reveal trickery and disguises. It was currently scratched out, as though something had forced the circle past its breaking point.
Alec had found it in a book of mythology next to a little believed story of Kali taking a lover, some kind of raksha of mischief. After some kind of falling out, so the tale went, she banished him from her home with this symbol.
Alec had added it after that tangle with the trickster god in the forest. Looks like it paid off.
"Got you," he snarled.
Looks like Coyote wasn't as dead as Alec would have liked. No matter; that was easily amendable.
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Arnie Smythe jingled his keys in the pocket of his faded blazer as he crossed the parking lot, fresh piece of bubblegum chomped between his teeth. Reaching his car, the keys dropped and he knelt down to get them. He heard a click behind his head.
"Get up slowly, and keep your hands where I can see them," the man standing behind him growled. Arnie did as the voice ordered, raising himself to his feet and turning to face his attacker.
"Listen man," he said, a tremor shaking his words, "I don't have any cash on me-"
Alec thrust the gun into the receptionist's face, silencing him. "Where are they?"
Coyote's human face grinned with to many teeth like the mask Alec first met him in. A bright pink bubble popped between them. "What gave me away?"
The safety clicked off. "You were the only one present at each crime scene. Now tell me where they are."
"Hold your horses tiger, your brats are safe. Relatively. They're asleep in their little beds back at that hovel you're living in. The littlest one might have issues with clowns in the future, but he'll live."
"Why should I believe you? Lying's in your job description."
The trickster nodded. "True enough, but it wasn't them I was trying to teach a lesson to. I don't hurt kids."
The transgenic bared his teeth. "You're trying to get to me by kidnaping children? Why? You not man enough to come at me yourself?"
"I'm here now aren't I? Besides this 'face to face' thing isn't nearly as fun. There's no poetry in it." It snapped its gum again. "Like Mr. Young upstairs: he thought it was fun to tell the people working the office floor to hit the road, so I thought he might like to do it himself. Literally." The trickster chuckled.
"Kidnaping is poetic?"
Golden eyes flashed and the grin flickered. "It is when I'm taking your prize for murder."
"I haven't killed any one," Alec growled. Recently, he mentally added.
"What about those kiddies' Daddy? He looks pretty dead to me."
"I didn't kill him."
"You distracted him at a crucial moment, letting big bad and hairy rip out his jugular."
"It was an accident."
"Then you snatch up his kids instead of leaving them with someone who is actually qualified to look after children."
"It's my responsibility to look after them."
"Because You're afraid of erasing your future?"
"What?"
"I've been around the block a few times kiddo, and you stink of time traveler." The trickster's golden eyes flashed in merriment. "Well, today's your lucky day Mr. Smart Alec! You don't have to look after those munchkins any more!"
"What?" he lowered his gun slightly, but kept it trained on the being before him.
"You're worried about destroying your future- and don't ask how I know: you smell like sparkles and tomorrow, so let's just leave it at that. I've been playing with the space time continuum since before your species was born, kid, so I can tell you from personal experience that nothing you do here will change the you that is standing in front of me. Think less Back to the Future paradoxes, and more Time Cop parallel dimensions."
Grinning Coyote spread out his hands. "So long story short, you're free to do whatever you want, without any strings or children attached."
Alec blinked. "Why are you telling me this?"
Sharp teeth clacked against a conjured hard candy. "I like you kid. Your spunk reminds me a bit of myself."
The transgenic tightened his hands on the trigger as he thought.
There was the chance that he was being lied to, but... Alec thought back to the instances which should have disrupted the entire time stream (killing John Winchester for one), yet left him immaculately whole and untampered with.
With no threat of non-existence hanging over his head, his whole reason for taking care of Dean and Sammy... just didn't exist.
The trickster was right, he was free to do whatever he wanted. No more parent teacher meetings, no more passing by that babe in the bar because there were two kids at home, no more questions he didn't have answers to, no more whining in the back seat, no more morning drills, no more prank wars... no more bedtime stories for Sammy (with Dean pretending not to listen on the other side of the bed). Never again seeing that hesitant grin on his mini-maker's face when Alec praised him for his spectacular aim, or that cross eyed look Sammy acquired when Alec flicked his nose.
All that, left as a memory if Alec cut his ties like the lone cat he wanted to be.
But...
There was something he wanted more than that now.
The realization struck Alec at needle point, then spread through his mind and body like hot smoke, making his stomach feel light.
He snarled and fired a warning shot past the Trickster's ear. "Those are my kids you're talking about, so can it before I give you a third eye."
The trickster's grin, if anything, widened. It sighed. "And here I am trying to do you a favor. There goes my good deed for the millennium!"
Alec fired a shot at it's head, but with a snap of fingers the trickster vanished.
He checked the apartment the trickster had been renting, and the office building it had been working at, but no one seemed to recall 'Arnie Smythe' or a man with golden eyes at all.
Even the trickster's surviving victims seemed ignorant of what exactly happened to them, though they remained emotionally and psychologically altered.
Finally facing defeat, Alec climbed into the Impala, and set his sight to the small apartment where two little boys waited for their uncle to come home.
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"Hey Singer, got another monster for me to kill?"
A gravely chuckle rumbled down the line. "Not this time, ya idjit. You told me to call if I could find out anything about what John Winchester was hunting before he died."
Alec hit mute on the TV. "What can you tell me?"
"You know what happened to his wife right? She was your cousin."
"I've heard accounts."
"Well John was hunting the thing that did it." Alec filed that bit of information away for further investigation. "I put in some calls to people he might have been in contact with."
"And?"
"And from what I've gathered, I think he was after a demon."
"A demon?"
"Yep. And that's not all: there's good evidence that it might have been following him and those two boys around the country."
Alec ran a hand over his face. "Trying to finish the job?"
"Looks like."
"Damn. Any way to ward it off?"
Pages rustled on the other line. "Salt, devil's trap- speaking the Lord's name will make it flinch."
"So I should pretend to be very religious?"
"If it helps."
He sighed. "Great."
Alec quietly shut the phone and leaned back into the overstuffed motel pillows. Slow breathing permeated the air with its peaceful rhythm, reminding Alec of the two kid shaped responsibilities sharing the opposite bed.
But, no, they weren't just that. Somewhere along the line they stopped being a self appointed body guard mission, and became something more, something important. It reminded Alec of the days before his unit was taken away from him.
He didn't care about Manticore any more; didn't care about whether or not they ever found Dean and created him. What really mattered to him right now was...
Alec pulled his knees to his chest till his bowed head rested gently against them. Max was right: the only good thing Manticore ever taught them was to take care of your unit.
Alec knew that without a conscious thought now.
He would keep those boys safe, no matter what it took.
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end-ies!
...
..
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Epilogue
Sam faced off against his brother in his small Stanford apartment.
Streetlight reflected off Dean's eyes, giving his dark visage a supernatural bearing. "Uncle Alec's missing."
Sam pulled his shirt straight, from where it went askew after his tussle on the floor thanks to his brother's unannounced visit to his Stanford apartment. "So?"
"So, I need your help going to find him. You're always stronger with your unit."
"I'm not your 'unit' Dean, I'm your brother. I hate it when you talk like we're in the military. Besides, he probably left you a note somewhere. He always does when an assignment takes too long."
"What makes you think he told me where he went?"
"He always liked you more than me."
Dean shrugged noncommittally. "Well, I checked all the usual places: nothing."
"You weren't hunting together?"
"I've been taking my own assignments for a while now," his brother said with pride."Look, I tracked his last hunt to a place up north. I can't do this one alone."
Sam thought of the last Winchester to go missing on a hunt, and how it brought an unexpected uncle into their lives. He sighed.
"Alright, where are we going?"
Dean smirked.
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..
.
Thus the Supernatural world turns. Sammy still has issues with authority, Dean had a bad case of hero worship, and family does the stupidest things with the best intentions. :P
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Title: Tiny Faces
Author: alessandra_c
Summary: "Alec didn't know what he was expecting when he opened the motel door with a key he pulled from a dead man's pocket, but it wasn't a shotgun pointed at his chest by a pint sized midget wearing his face." Alec finds himself back in time. Reversing the idea of Dean raising his clones. Supernatural Dark Angel crossover time travel
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They stayed in Missouri till the beginning of summer, with Dean, curiously sitting through sixth grade (never having been in the same class for that long before) and Sammy causing Alec headaches whenever his teachers called the older man in to discus 'special' placement for his 'bright nephew'.
The transgenic decided that he hated parent teacher meetings. At least the ones with Dean's teachers were more interesting (usually them complaining how the young boy managed to acquire all his classmate's allowances on a weekly basis).
Alec used the months to develop his 'researching' skills (after Singer flat out refused to spoon feed him cases any more). He still couldn't work a computer past opening a search bar, but managed to find and put down a handful of hauntings and what turned out to be a possessed tree all by himself.
But alas, all good things must come to an end.
After determining that all supernatural activity within a three days drive of their little Missouri town was put down, Alec decided that it was time to move to greener hunting grounds.
A CEO in Florida went missing, and his body was found seven miles away with its feet worn out from walking. Alec hadn't dealt with witches before, and thought it was time to expand his repertoire to curses.
Sammy cried while saying goodbye to Joshua, but Alec made sure that the dog had a good home with an old couple he saved, so he tried not to let it get to him.
Dean just watched their home for the last few months vanish out the window.
"You ok?" Alec asked, trying to drown out the quiet sniffing of Sammy in the back. The older boy looked at him, unblinkingly.
"Are we going to stay this long in the next place?" he asked.
Alec shrugged. "If I can find a hunt."
Dean nodded in acceptance (a gesture Alec had begun to associate with Dean comparing his 'uncle' to his father). "Ok. It was nice, though."
The knife of guilt dug a little deeper and twisted.
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It took a surprisingly short time for Alec to set up a base and make sure his charges were settled in. He resigned himself to letting these activities become habit, and tried not to think about how many more times he would need to repeat the process before the kids were old enough to take care of themselves.
There were fruit trees behind the small apartment, and Alec spent the afternoon after they were done unpacking showing the boys all the edible plants. All were still in bloom and not ready to bare fruit, but Sammy delighted in imagining what the exotic treats would taste like once they were ripe and ready to be harvested.
Alec kept his answers on how long they were staying deliberately vague so those sparkling eyes wouldn't dim just yet.
Luckily it was now summer vacation so he didn't need to worry about signing the boys up for school till the fall. Thank goodness for small favors.
The next morning, after setting the boys up with money and instructions for the day, Alec picked up a fake reported ID and walked to the scene of the strange crime.
Office big shot walks himself to death, sounded like witch craft and curses. So if a witch was out to get revenge on a man, the witch must know him personally. What better place was there to create a grudge than against your boss at work?
He waltzed up to the sprawling building, taking a moment to survey the reflective glass windows towering seven floors above his head. The receptionist inside, a man with sandy blonde hair and a name tag that said 'Arnie Smythe' snapped his pink bubblegum at Alec.
"Newspaper hu? Ol' Young never was this popular before his little breakdown."
"Oh?" Alec said pleasantly.
"Yep," the man grinned wickedly. "No one in the office liked him, he liked to fire floor staff if his coffee was cold. I'm just glad I run coffee for the other side of the building."
"What a jerk!" Alec agreed. "Who did he fire recently?"
The receptionist tapped his cheek thoughtfully. "I can't name names off the top of my head, but if you need it for your article I can print something up."
"That would be great! I could turn it into a character piece on the morality of office life."
Arnie chuckled as his fingers flew across the keyboard. "Sounds fun."
"Think I could stop by later to chat some more?" Alec asked as he gratefully too the printout handed to him. "You know to double check my facts."
The secretary shrugged. "Sure, doesn't bother me at all."
With a wave he departed the building.
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"So, what can you tell me about the incident involving Mr. Young?" Alec asked, pen poised over his imaginary reporter's notepad.
The woman he was interviewing (second from the bottom on the list) rubbed her hands together distractedly. "Well, and I'm sure I'm not the first to tell you this, but that man had it coming."
"You're not," Alec assured. "Many of your former colleagues share your sentiments."
Mrs. Hubbly sniffed. "He was an ass. Never struck me as the kind to have a nervous breakdown, but neither did that guy at the coffee shop, so I guess you just never know."
Alec's scribblings slowed. "Coffee shop?"
"Oh, that's right you're not from around here. Yes, the man who owned the coffee shop on Main Street claimed that green eyes monsters were chasing him. Next thing anyone knows he's catatonic in the hospital."
"Wow, that's crazy. Can you tell me anything else about it?"
She shrugged. "I was never a coffee runner, so I never went there."
Alec gave his most charming smile. "Well thank you ma'am, you've been really helpful!"
One quick stroll later, and Alec was talking with the new manager of 'Brew Lala', sipping on a vanilla latte.
"Mr. Johnson?" the young man asked. "Yeah, he was a real jerk. Always commenting on how nice everyone's things were compared to his own. It wasn't even like he couldn't afford that kind of stuff either, he was just too cheep to do it."
"And you say he started hallucinating?"
"Yep," he huffed. "You know, like what parents tell kids 'bout the 'Green Eyed Monster'. We all thought it was funny, until he apparently scared himself to death. His son owns the place now, so at least I still have a job."
Alec made a note on his paper. "This is going to sound random, but do you think this incident has anything to do with the 'nervous breakdown' of a Mr. Young? For example, were he and Mr. Johnson friends?"
The manager rubbed his chin. "Friends? No, but that guy's secretary always brought his a double espresso every morning. Nice guy, but he'll rot his teeth out one of these days."
"Hm. Thanks, you've been really helpful. I'll be sure to quote you if I use this in my article."
Folding up his legal pad, Alec shakes the man's hand and returns to the motel, brain itching as he went.
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Muffled mewling, like a kitten in a cardboard box, pulled Alec out of his subconscious' delectable image of the various uses for chocolate syrup. Rough fabric scraped against his cheek as he listened, wondering if it was just the creaky building making noises in the night or something more sinister.
The cry stifled itself again, and Alec looked over to the twin lumps one bed over.
"Dean?" he whispered. The whimpering stopped, as though a fist had been clamped down tightly over tiny lips. Alec sat up, wincing at the loud creak of springs. "Hey, you ok kiddo?"
"Sorry sir," the pre-teen's quiet voice said at last. "I didn't want to wake Sammy up."
Alec ran a hand over his eyes, not bothering to turn on the light. "Do you want to come over here and talk about it?"
The silence lasted long enough that Alec thought Dean had fallen back asleep, but the other mattress creaked and soft feet fell on the threadbare carpet. Wearing a too big t-shirt that reached his knees, the eldest Winchester boy cautiously settled himself on the edge Alec's bed. The kids arms twisted around his body in what might have been an attempt to keep himself warm, if the creeping heat of summer didn't fill the room.
"Want to talk about it?" Alec offered again, tempted to lay a hand on his mini-maker's shoulder. Dean shook his head (he would need a haircut soon the older man noted). "Ok." They sat in silence.
"Do," Dean's voice cracked, "do you remember what my mom was like?" The question was like a whispered prayer.
Alec thought fast. The file at Manticore remained disturbingly vague about the Winchester matron, only including a yellowing photo obviously taken from some school records. "We were cousins," he fell back on his cover story, "but we weren't very close."
"Oh." The syllable made the transgenic's heart throb.
"She was very beautiful," he shot out. "Mary had the prettiest blond hair I've ever seen. She had these laugh lines around her eyes, because she smiled so much, but you could tell she was also tough."
He could feel Dean's eyes on him as he held that picture of the young Mary Winchester firmly in his mind, trying to glean as much information as possible from the image. The boy shifted on the bed, leaning in closer, as if each word was a balm against a burning wound.
"I know she loved her family very much. I know she loved you very much." After all, what mother didn't? This might have been the wrong thing to say, because salty tears began to fall down the boy's already wet face.
Alec moved to wrap an arm around his thin shoulders. The boy stiffened, and for a moment he thought he had done the wrong thing again. Strong thin fingers wrapped themselves into his shirt, banishing such doubt.
"She," Dean gasped, "she used to say that angels were watching over me."
Alec rubbed small circles on his back, the way he remembered seeing a mother do once.
"Then the f-fire ha-happened and-," tremors wracked the little body in Alec's arms and he tightened the hug reflexively.
"Is that what woke you up?" he asked softly. "Remembering?"
A nod pressed itself into his ribs. "Sammy was only a baby and Dad told me to run and take him outside. I can he-hear her screaming in my head, even though Dad said she was d-dead before the fire. The smoke's in my eyes, but I can still-I can still see it get her. Then it gets D-dad. Then it starts to reach for S-sammy, and I can't- I can't- s-stop it." The rest of the sentence vanished into silent sobs, and Alec feels completely out of his depth.
"Shh, there there," he tries. "Look, Sammy's ok. He's over there sleeping. I won't let anything get you guys."
A tear streaked face turned to him. "B-but it got Dad. Dad was-" the boy's breath hitched.
Alec held him close. "Your father didn't have anyone watching his back and got caught by surprise. He didn't have a unit to hunt with."
"Weren't you there with him?"
Damn. "I was a step behind. He left me behind and by the time I caught up, the thing had already gotten him." The shaking intensified. "He got the monster though. Went down like a true soldier."
Dean clung to his 'uncle's' chest. "You go out alone."
"I'm just taking easy assignments until you can come help me with the hard ones when you're older."
"Oh." Darkness pressed against the pair, lukewarm air billowing through the window. Alec dozed against the headboard of the bed, still holding his charge.
"I won't let anything happen to you," the childish promise whispered.
Alec smiled. "Me neither kid."
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Alec sighed as he fished in his pocket for the hotel keys. Another day and he was no closer to solving this case that when he started. In fact he was even further away.
Two more cases like the 'Green Eyed Monster' and the compulsive road walking had turned up in his interviewing. A dry cleaner with a tendency to stealing cloths gets his wardrobe eaten out by moths, and a mailman with a penchant for stealing checks out of the mail ends up trapped in a blue mail box on the corner.
Alec couldn't find any connecting feature between the cases, other than the fact that all the locations were frequented by employes of Mr. Young's company.
The lock to the room clicked and he pushed the door open with a shoulder.
"I'm back," he called, stepping neatly over the salt line on the floor.
There was no reply. The hairs on the back of Alec's neck stood up.
"Dean? Sammy?" In two steps he passed the counter (no note) and beds (shotgun barrel still poking out under the mattress) and opened the bathroom door (sink was dry, they've been gone for a few hours at least).
Adrenalin spiked through his blood, sharpening his focus as he combed the room. Salt lines were in place still, so it couldn't be a spirit. Unless a human knew to step over them they wold have been broken by someone carelessly walking through the door, so Alec lessened his suspicion of a human kidnapper, though he did not dismiss the possibility.
It was times like these he wished his cocktail included some kind of (gag- dare he say it?) tracking dog. Joshua (the transgenic, not the dog left behind in Missouri) would have been able to find the kids even if they were across town.
Alec traced his fingers over the door frame, and paused over one of the delicately scratched protective symbols. It was an obscure Indian symbol from the worshipers of Kali, meant to ward off and reveal trickery and disguises. It was currently scratched out, as though something had forced the circle past its breaking point.
Alec had found it in a book of mythology next to a little believed story of Kali taking a lover, some kind of raksha of mischief. After some kind of falling out, so the tale went, she banished him from her home with this symbol.
Alec had added it after that tangle with the trickster god in the forest. Looks like it paid off.
"Got you," he snarled.
Looks like Coyote wasn't as dead as Alec would have liked. No matter; that was easily amendable.
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Arnie Smythe jingled his keys in the pocket of his faded blazer as he crossed the parking lot, fresh piece of bubblegum chomped between his teeth. Reaching his car, the keys dropped and he knelt down to get them. He heard a click behind his head.
"Get up slowly, and keep your hands where I can see them," the man standing behind him growled. Arnie did as the voice ordered, raising himself to his feet and turning to face his attacker.
"Listen man," he said, a tremor shaking his words, "I don't have any cash on me-"
Alec thrust the gun into the receptionist's face, silencing him. "Where are they?"
Coyote's human face grinned with to many teeth like the mask Alec first met him in. A bright pink bubble popped between them. "What gave me away?"
The safety clicked off. "You were the only one present at each crime scene. Now tell me where they are."
"Hold your horses tiger, your brats are safe. Relatively. They're asleep in their little beds back at that hovel you're living in. The littlest one might have issues with clowns in the future, but he'll live."
"Why should I believe you? Lying's in your job description."
The trickster nodded. "True enough, but it wasn't them I was trying to teach a lesson to. I don't hurt kids."
The transgenic bared his teeth. "You're trying to get to me by kidnaping children? Why? You not man enough to come at me yourself?"
"I'm here now aren't I? Besides this 'face to face' thing isn't nearly as fun. There's no poetry in it." It snapped its gum again. "Like Mr. Young upstairs: he thought it was fun to tell the people working the office floor to hit the road, so I thought he might like to do it himself. Literally." The trickster chuckled.
"Kidnaping is poetic?"
Golden eyes flashed and the grin flickered. "It is when I'm taking your prize for murder."
"I haven't killed any one," Alec growled. Recently, he mentally added.
"What about those kiddies' Daddy? He looks pretty dead to me."
"I didn't kill him."
"You distracted him at a crucial moment, letting big bad and hairy rip out his jugular."
"It was an accident."
"Then you snatch up his kids instead of leaving them with someone who is actually qualified to look after children."
"It's my responsibility to look after them."
"Because You're afraid of erasing your future?"
"What?"
"I've been around the block a few times kiddo, and you stink of time traveler." The trickster's golden eyes flashed in merriment. "Well, today's your lucky day Mr. Smart Alec! You don't have to look after those munchkins any more!"
"What?" he lowered his gun slightly, but kept it trained on the being before him.
"You're worried about destroying your future- and don't ask how I know: you smell like sparkles and tomorrow, so let's just leave it at that. I've been playing with the space time continuum since before your species was born, kid, so I can tell you from personal experience that nothing you do here will change the you that is standing in front of me. Think less Back to the Future paradoxes, and more Time Cop parallel dimensions."
Grinning Coyote spread out his hands. "So long story short, you're free to do whatever you want, without any strings or children attached."
Alec blinked. "Why are you telling me this?"
Sharp teeth clacked against a conjured hard candy. "I like you kid. Your spunk reminds me a bit of myself."
The transgenic tightened his hands on the trigger as he thought.
There was the chance that he was being lied to, but... Alec thought back to the instances which should have disrupted the entire time stream (killing John Winchester for one), yet left him immaculately whole and untampered with.
With no threat of non-existence hanging over his head, his whole reason for taking care of Dean and Sammy... just didn't exist.
The trickster was right, he was free to do whatever he wanted. No more parent teacher meetings, no more passing by that babe in the bar because there were two kids at home, no more questions he didn't have answers to, no more whining in the back seat, no more morning drills, no more prank wars... no more bedtime stories for Sammy (with Dean pretending not to listen on the other side of the bed). Never again seeing that hesitant grin on his mini-maker's face when Alec praised him for his spectacular aim, or that cross eyed look Sammy acquired when Alec flicked his nose.
All that, left as a memory if Alec cut his ties like the lone cat he wanted to be.
But...
There was something he wanted more than that now.
The realization struck Alec at needle point, then spread through his mind and body like hot smoke, making his stomach feel light.
He snarled and fired a warning shot past the Trickster's ear. "Those are my kids you're talking about, so can it before I give you a third eye."
The trickster's grin, if anything, widened. It sighed. "And here I am trying to do you a favor. There goes my good deed for the millennium!"
Alec fired a shot at it's head, but with a snap of fingers the trickster vanished.
He checked the apartment the trickster had been renting, and the office building it had been working at, but no one seemed to recall 'Arnie Smythe' or a man with golden eyes at all.
Even the trickster's surviving victims seemed ignorant of what exactly happened to them, though they remained emotionally and psychologically altered.
Finally facing defeat, Alec climbed into the Impala, and set his sight to the small apartment where two little boys waited for their uncle to come home.
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"Hey Singer, got another monster for me to kill?"
A gravely chuckle rumbled down the line. "Not this time, ya idjit. You told me to call if I could find out anything about what John Winchester was hunting before he died."
Alec hit mute on the TV. "What can you tell me?"
"You know what happened to his wife right? She was your cousin."
"I've heard accounts."
"Well John was hunting the thing that did it." Alec filed that bit of information away for further investigation. "I put in some calls to people he might have been in contact with."
"And?"
"And from what I've gathered, I think he was after a demon."
"A demon?"
"Yep. And that's not all: there's good evidence that it might have been following him and those two boys around the country."
Alec ran a hand over his face. "Trying to finish the job?"
"Looks like."
"Damn. Any way to ward it off?"
Pages rustled on the other line. "Salt, devil's trap- speaking the Lord's name will make it flinch."
"So I should pretend to be very religious?"
"If it helps."
He sighed. "Great."
Alec quietly shut the phone and leaned back into the overstuffed motel pillows. Slow breathing permeated the air with its peaceful rhythm, reminding Alec of the two kid shaped responsibilities sharing the opposite bed.
But, no, they weren't just that. Somewhere along the line they stopped being a self appointed body guard mission, and became something more, something important. It reminded Alec of the days before his unit was taken away from him.
He didn't care about Manticore any more; didn't care about whether or not they ever found Dean and created him. What really mattered to him right now was...
Alec pulled his knees to his chest till his bowed head rested gently against them. Max was right: the only good thing Manticore ever taught them was to take care of your unit.
Alec knew that without a conscious thought now.
He would keep those boys safe, no matter what it took.
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end-ies!
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Epilogue
Sam faced off against his brother in his small Stanford apartment.
Streetlight reflected off Dean's eyes, giving his dark visage a supernatural bearing. "Uncle Alec's missing."
Sam pulled his shirt straight, from where it went askew after his tussle on the floor thanks to his brother's unannounced visit to his Stanford apartment. "So?"
"So, I need your help going to find him. You're always stronger with your unit."
"I'm not your 'unit' Dean, I'm your brother. I hate it when you talk like we're in the military. Besides, he probably left you a note somewhere. He always does when an assignment takes too long."
"What makes you think he told me where he went?"
"He always liked you more than me."
Dean shrugged noncommittally. "Well, I checked all the usual places: nothing."
"You weren't hunting together?"
"I've been taking my own assignments for a while now," his brother said with pride."Look, I tracked his last hunt to a place up north. I can't do this one alone."
Sam thought of the last Winchester to go missing on a hunt, and how it brought an unexpected uncle into their lives. He sighed.
"Alright, where are we going?"
Dean smirked.
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Thus the Supernatural world turns. Sammy still has issues with authority, Dean had a bad case of hero worship, and family does the stupidest things with the best intentions. :P
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