Never Still in Darkness Part 2
Title: Never Still in Darkness (Part 2/?)
Rating: R
Genre: AU, horror, (dark) fantasy, sci-fi
Notes: Crossover with Supernatural. Part 2 finally~~! ^_^ Starting to get some answers in this one, though I'm sure some more questions are raised as well. And we also finally have our first "on-screen" run-in with the monster~~ :D (Also, I absolutely HATE the section with Sam and Min's talk. Tried to revise it about a million times, and this is still the best I can get it. *sighs* Don't judge me too harshly... OTL)
IMPORTANT!: I have revised Part 1, tweaked a few things, added some extra description in places. You can skim it over again if you want, but nothing changed plot-wise. All you really have to know is that I've switched to referring to Jae and Min almost exclusively by their adopted English names (Jae and Max). So don't let that throw you off in this part if you don't reread that one. ^^
Word Count: 3,943
Summary: Changmin and Jaejoong are good hunters, and there aren't many things they can't kill one way or another. When they run into one of the rare exceptions to that rule, they're forced to seek help from an outside source. The Winchesters aren't sure how much help they'll be, but they're always up for an interesting challenge. And this case is nothing if not interesting.
Warnings: some scenes of torture, platonic!JaeMin
Previous: Part 1
Part 2
Jae scowls as he flips through yet another dusty, old book. While the other three had initially thrown themselves into the research, true geeks that they are, both Jae and Dean had finally found common ground in that neither of them really enjoys this part of the job. Add in the fact that Jae has trouble understanding some of the more antiquated or overly-academic English, and it's just been a miserable three days since they'd arrived at the salvage yard. Even Sam, Max, and Bobby seem to be getting weary of the constant reading while being no closer to an answer.
Busy typing another word into his phone's translator - it's not perfect, but at least it gives him a general idea for the most part - Jae starts slightly when Max slams his book shut with a huff. "This is getting us nowhere," the youngest growls out, waving away the dust plume that had erupted when he'd closed the book. "Even when we do manage to come across anything that even remotely resembles the yuryeong, it only tells us what we already know about it. Traditional lore isn't gonna help us here."
"You got any better ideas then?" Bobby half snaps at him. Only half, because as much as he doesn't want to cede defeat, the kid has a point. His generally trusty books aren't gaining them any ground on this thing.
Max sighs, resting against the back of his chair and tilting his head back to stare up at the ceiling. "We need to just use what we know about creatures in general and brainstorm how this thing was changed. Maybe from there, we can figure out something that will work against it."
"You have a theory already," Jae states, studying Max's profile. It's not hard to see Max has something big on his mind to someone who knows the younger man as well as Jae does.
Max nods with a grimace, pinching the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger. "Something obviously messed with this monster somehow, morphed it into something beyond the traditional yuryeong. And when you consider the people it's been targeting..."
Jae suddenly understands exactly where Max is leading with this, and a heavy weight settles in the pit of his stomach. "Shit. You think the Centre is behind this somehow?"
The other three perk up at that, latching onto the unfamiliar reference. Neither Jae nor Max pauses to explain further, though, as Max replies to the question. "It makes sense, doesn't it? A creature from Korea all the way in the U.S., changed in a way that would take some massive supernatural know-how, specifically hunting down psychics. I'm assuming Phillips has this thing on a leash somehow."
Jae scowls at the name, eyes burning with rage, and Dean finally loses what little patience he'd managed to scrape up. "Will one of you please share with the class? What the hell is the Centre, and who the hell is this Phillips person?"
Finally lowering his head to look at them again, Max contemplates his answer for a long minute before starting. "The Centre is an organization based in Seoul for paranormal research. They have different departments: psychic powers, supernatural creatures, and paranormal phenomena among others. I was a... student, if you want to call it that, of the psy powers division. When I mentioned my last memory of my parents was them driving away? That's where they left me. I lived there for a little over 13 years, from the time I was five until just before my 18th birthday. Phillips, the sadistic bastard, was the doctor in charge of my training."
"And you think he's behind this? Why?" Bobby questions.
"Because I'm a very valuable commodity," Max replies with a wry smirk. "You have to understand, psychic powers are hell on the body physically. Most people, they have one or two powers max and they suffer nosebleeds, crippling migraines, exhaustion. Eventually their bodies just burn out completely. We don't have the life expectancy of a normal person. For someone like me, with as many powers as I have at the strength they are... I wasn't expected to even make it to puberty. It flies in the face of all their research, and so I became their little pet guinea pig. I'm too important for them to just let me go. Phillips would have both the motive and the necessary resources to bind this thing to him and let it start hunting down psychics to find me."
Jae fights off the urge to punch something as he listens to Max's explanation, to the flat tone in his voice that covers up all the raging emotions Max struggles with. "Which means Phillips has figured out we're in the U.S. And considering how close we were to where the yuryeong started its attacks, he probably even knows our general location."
When Max meets Jae's eyes, Jae can make out the barely-restrained fear simmering under Max's carefully controlled facade. Jae itches to reassure him, to promise him that Phillips will never hurt him again, that they won't let anything happen to him. He can't, though. He promised a long time ago to never lie to Max, and making promises he isn't sure he can keep definitely falls under the banner of lying.
~*~~*~
Not exactly a chatterbox even before the big revelation, Max falls virtually silent in the aftermath. He takes to wandering around the salvage yard, long walks at any hour of the day or night, mostly only speaking during their marathon sessions of theorizing and planning.
Sam knows there's more to his story, more they haven't been told, but as much as he'd like answers to his many questions, he doesn't want to upset Max any further. He's developed a bit of a soft spot for the younger hunter in the few days Jae and Max had been staying with them, and he's starting to figure out what Dean means when he rags on Sam for his puppy-dog looks. Max's big eyes would definitely fit into the 'kicked puppy' category, dark and expressive.
When he's out on his own meandering walk a couple days later and spots Max sitting cross-legged under a shade tree in a corner of the yard, Sam hesitates only a moment before striding over and taking a seat next to him. Max spares him a quick glance from the corner of his eyes before continuing to stare into the distance. "You wanna talk about it?" he asks lightly.
Max gives him a one-shouldered shrug and bites his lip. "It's... complicated," he replies quietly without looking at Sam. "Or maybe not, really. I guess it's actually pretty simple. Phillips terrifies me. I don't think I've ever been as scared of anything as I am of that man. The fact that he knows where I am, that he has this personalized monster out on a quest to find me... People are dying because of it, but the thought of facing him... God, I don't even know."
And Sam thinks he can relate in a way, just a bit, because isn't he in the same kind of situation with the YED? Though the fact that Max's bigger fear is the human, not the monster, is rather telling. It definitely falls under Dean's saying about dealing with monsters versus people.
Sam looks at Max for a long time, wondering just how far he can go to satisfy some of his inherent curiosity. He doesn't want to upset the kid, (And how weird is it that he can call another hunter that for once?) but he has so many questions running around in his head. Finally, he decides to just go for it. "What... did he do to you? While you were at that place, that 'Centre'."
Max scoffs, a bitter smirk on his lips, as he continues to stare out in the distance. "The better question would be what didn't he do to me?" Pausing, he eventually turns to looks at Sam, studying and scrutinizing, and Sam gets the feeling it's some kind of test. Satisfied by whatever he finds, Max continues, "It wasn't too terrible at first. Like I said earlier, I wasn't meant to live past puberty, so they really didn't pay any extra attention to me. But then I did. Not only did I live, but I actually got stronger as I got older. They started making demands when I hit about 13. I always said no so they hurt me for it. I managed to escape just a couple days before I turned 18, and that's when I met Jae."
Hearing the other man's name reminds Sam of another thing he'd been meaning to ask them about. "Jae... You call him something else sometimes; I'm assuming it's a Korean word. A nickname or something?"
Back on neutral ground, some of the tension drains from Max's posture, and he turns to face Sam again. "Yeah, 'hyung'. It's... not really a nickname. It translates to 'big brother' basically, but it's not only used for family relationships. It's kind of an honorific term, used from younger guys to older that they're close to."
"Only between guys, though?" Sam questions.
Max makes a small hum of agreement. "'Hyung' specifically is only between guys. There are other terms for a guy to call a girl or for younger girls to call older guys or girls. It's kind of complicated, I guess, but it's so ingrained growing up in Korea that we really don't even think about it."
Sam nods. "That makes sense. I'm sure there's plenty about American culture and language that's the same way. Stuff that we do or say because we just know it, but it'd be really difficult to explain to someone who didn't grow up with it."
"Gee, geeking out over culture lessons together?" a voice teases from behind them. Sam recognize the familiar drawl of his brother's voice instantly, but Max whirls around to watch the older hunter approach. "Who'da thunk it, really?"
Sam scowls, silently warning Dean not to scare Max off. While there's no tension between them like with Dean and Jae, Max has never really been able to fully relax in Dean's presence. "Shut up, jerk," is all he says out loud as Dean gets closer.
"Bitch," his brother shoots back with a bright grin, message obviously received. Max watches them with a small smile on his face, and Dean takes a moment to study him. Dean prides himself on his ability to read people, but even after nearly a week, Max is still very much a mystery. He trusts, for the most part, that the kid's no danger to them, but Max is holding far too many secrets for Dean to let his guard down completely the way Sam already has. Shaking himself from his observations, Dean reminds himself of why he'd come out in the first place. "Get a move on, dorks. Bobby's calling a group meeting."
~*~~*~
"What's up, Bobby?" Sam asks when they're all settled in various spots around the living room. Bobby sits behind his desk, a not-quite-large cardboard box sitting open in front of him. Sam and Dean take up the couch, Jae sits on a chair next to Bobby's desk, and Changmin contents himself with folding himself cross-legged on the floor next to Jae's chair. When he'd first sat down, Dean had stared at him for a long moment, contemplating how a guy that tall with limbs that long can sit on the ground so gracefully. (And does it make him racist to think it might be cultural?)
"Couple things," Bobby replies, resting a hand on top of the box. "Just got these in, some books that should actually be able to give us some answers. Problem is that a lot of them are in Korean, so we'll need a translator."
Jae shrugs. "Not really so much of a problem with me and Min here," he counters. "So what's the other thing?"
"We've got a hunt. I'd normally pass it on to someone else, but the body count's rising, and the next closest hunter is over a day's drive away," Bobby explains.
"So what're we lookin' at exactly?" Dean asks.
Bobby shrugs. "Not quite sure yet. Possible black dog maybe. Four bodies in the last five days found in the woods, mauled beyond recognition and partially eaten. Entirely possible the 'partially eaten' part could have been done by local scavengers, though, so even that's not giving us much extra info."
"Oooh, you should take Min along then. Black dogs are kind of a specialty for him," Jae announces, a note of bragging clear in his tone.
The other three blink at him for a second before turning their gazes on Max. "How in the world can black dogs be a 'specialty'?" Bobby questions.
Max ducks his head bashfully and offers a half-shrug. "They're pretty easy, really," he declares. "Pin 'em down and light 'em up, and you're good to go. Really, that first part is the hardest with them."
"Alright. Well then," Dean starts, recovering from Max's matter-of-fact statements, "if Max goes on the hunt, guess that leaves Jae here to help with the translating. Sammy? Assuming you're gonna want to stay here and geek out on the new books?"
Sam looks back at his brother and grins. "If at all possible, yeah."
Dean gives him a little nod then turn back to look at Max again. "Looks like it's me and you then, kid."
"I do hope you don't plan on making that a habit," Max replies simply. Dean's only answer is a broad, mischievous grin, and Max heaves a long-suffering sigh. Sometimes, a lot of times, he really hates being the youngest.
~*~~*~
The location had been about a four hour drive from Bobby's house, though Max was pretty sure it should have taken at least another hour over that. Not that it worries him much. For all their animosity towards each other, Dean and Jae are remarkably alike in a lot of ways - driving habits no exception.
After checking into a motel in close proximity to the forest they'd be scouting, they'd then made quick work of examining the bodies and talking to any witnesses. All said and done, both had been comfortable with calling this a black dog and hiking into the woods.
"That's not a black dog," Max whispers as they listen to the creature moving through the trees just outside of their visual range. The fact twists his stomach as all of his muscles tense up; they are so not prepared for this. "We need to leave. Now."
Dean glances at him, eyes wide. "What? Why? How do you know?"
"Because I can't get it pinned down," Max replies, voice miraculously steady despite the shaky fluttering in his chest. "Whatever it is is either resistant to me or able to throw me off. I've only known two things able to do that, only one of which can move that fast, and Sam and Jae are still researching how to fight it back at Bobby's."
Before Dean can formulate a reply, the creature enters the opposite side of the clearing and just stands there. Watching them. Dean takes the chance to get a good look at the beast. The thing seems to be right around their height, maybe 6 feet or so, gray-white hair tied up in some kind of Asian topknot. Black veins run through skin lightly shaded bluish-gray, and the long hands that hang at its sides taper off into long claws.
Take away the claws and the coloring, though, and the monster's features are disturbingly human. Dean pictures it with Max's skin color and black hair and realizes the creature could pass as any college-aged Asian kid. Before he can really pursue that train of thought, though, the thing is out of sight again.
Max grabs his arm and starts pulling, and Dean turns to nod at him. "Yeah, I know. Let's get out of here."
They turn around to retrace their steps out of the forest, only to come face-to-face with the creature Dean had just finished studying. Moonlight glances off the sharp claws as the thing swipes a hand at Max. Dean pulls the kid back, attempting to keep him clear, but he still hears a small grunt of pain as the hand comes down.
Raising his shotgun, Dean quickly unloads a shot in the creature's chest. It staggers back, blue-black blood appearing in a few spots, but it's not nearly enough damage to take the thing down. Max flicks his wrist, though, and the monster is suddenly surrounded by a circle of fire. "I can't use my powers on it directly," Max explains as they edge around the flames and onto the path they'd walked up on, "but I can at least keep it contained long enough for us to get back to the car."
They maintain a steadily rushed pace back out of the forest, not wanting to take any chances that the creature could escape before they're clear. Max keeps a hand pressed to his side, but his step never falters. And if Dean had held on to any doubts about Max being tougher than he appears, those quickly dissolve during their hasty retreat.
~*~~*~
Max hisses as he moves into the motel room, the long gashes wrapping around his torso pulling and stretching as he gingerly slips out of his t-shirt. It's such an instinctual move, routine from working with Jae for the last few years, that he doesn't even think twice about it. Until he hears the complete lack of movement from behind him and it hits him. Jae isn't here. He spins around to face Dean, who raises his eyes from where he'd obviously been studying Max's exposed back.
"Those aren't hunting scars," Dean states. He's well acquainted with hunting scars: bullets and claws and knives. The designs and patterns covering the kid's back match none of those. "What are they?" His tone is controlled, even and quiet.
Max hesitates for just a moment, eyes shifting side to side as if searching for a way out of this conversation. "Brands," he finally says, just as quietly. "Some from hot brands but most from liquid nitrogen freeze burns. The star symbols in particular mark me as property of the Centre."
The air sticks in Dean's chest at the soft, resigned statement. It's pretty much exactly as he'd assumed when he first saw the smooth scars but somehow so much worse at the same time. Branded. Like property. Like cattle. "How old were you?"
Sinking carefully onto his bed, Max offers a one-shouldered shrug. "I'm not sure exactly," he replies. "Kinda lost track of time after a while. It happened a few times until I got out, but my best guess for the first time I was... I dunno, maybe 16 or so."
Dean had had his fair share of - sometimes serious - injuries at 16 from hunting with his father. These weren't injuries, though. This was torture, plain and simple, inflicted on a kid who had refused to say yes to the bad guys. Sam would probably know what to say in this situation, something sympathetic and intelligent, but hell if Dean could come up with anything himself. So, instead, he oh-so-subtly shifts the conversation. "Need any help with those scratches?"
Max offers him a half-smile at the subject change. On Sam, the expression would have more than likely pissed him off since Sam's half-smiles in situations like this tend to be full of "I know what you're doing, and I'm sorry you can't deal with emotional moments." The little bitch. Max's half-smile, though, is some mix of grateful and exhausted, and Dean's starting to see where Jae's crazy protective streak (and coming from him, that's saying something) comes from.
"It looks worse than it is," Max replies, raising his arm to examine the wounds snaking around his side again. "Think my jacket absorbed a lot of the impact. They've all mostly stopped bleeding so I think I really just need to clean them out and cover them."
Dean crosses the room to get a look at the wounds himself, not entirely trusting the kid to come clean (mostly due to the fact that both he and Sam have the bad habit of downplaying their own injuries) and not willing to risk Jae's wrath should Max bleed out or develop an infection overnight. He seems to be telling the truth, though; all of the gashes have, for the most part, stopped bleeding and shouldn't require any stitches. "Need any help?"
Max takes a second to look at the slashes again, as much as he can see anyway. They start low on the right side of his chest and follow his ribs around under his arm to his back. "Yeah, probably," he admits. "I'd be able to do most of it, but I can't see where they end to make sure they're cleaned properly in the back."
Nodding, Dean claps a hand to Max's shoulder. "Why don't you head to the bathroom, start washing 'em out? I'll get the first aid kit and meet you in there." He turns away without waiting for Max's answer, already heading for his duffle in the corner, but he hears the movement as the kid stands and follows his directions.
Max has the blood and dirt cleaned from his front and side by the time Dean gets into the bathroom with the kit, and Dean takes the rag to finish the job. It has to sting like a bitch, but Max hardly makes a sound as Dean clears away the rest of the mess then starts to smear antibiotic cream over each slice. "It's kinda nice," Dean observes, only half talking to the younger hunter, "not having to fight to get an injury taken care of. Sam always insists he's fine or, barring that, that he can take care of it himself."
Another half-smile, and Dean wonders if Max ever outright grins. Laughs even. "I used to do that," Max replies quietly. Everything about him is quiet, really. "It used to drive Jae crazy. I guess... I was just so used to taking care of myself, y'know? When I first started living with him, it never even occurred to me that he would want to help, let alone that maybe I should ask him to sometimes. It took him a long time and constant nagging to break me of that. Now it's just habit to be honest. Plus, well, have you ever seen him handle his knives? I'd kind of like to stay on his good side."
Dean snorts at the statement, in total agreement. As good as Jae is with a gun (proven on the make-shift shooting range in Bobby's backyard), the guy's downright scary with a blade in his hands. Finally finishing with the cream, Dean pulls out a roll of gauze and starts wrapping Max's chest. When he's satisfied that he has all the wounds covered, he cuts the gauze off the remaining roll and tapes down the end. "Alright, kid, think you're done."
Max scowls as he turns to face Dean. "I'm not a kid," he retorts with a glare, arms crossed over his chest, and Dean can see so easily the petulant smartass the kid could have been in a different life.
The expression and the tone are so reminiscent of his brother's "Don't call me Sammy" that Dean can't help his bright smile in the face of it. "Uh-huh. Whatever you say, kid."
Rating: R
Genre: AU, horror, (dark) fantasy, sci-fi
Notes: Crossover with Supernatural. Part 2 finally~~! ^_^ Starting to get some answers in this one, though I'm sure some more questions are raised as well. And we also finally have our first "on-screen" run-in with the monster~~ :D (Also, I absolutely HATE the section with Sam and Min's talk. Tried to revise it about a million times, and this is still the best I can get it. *sighs* Don't judge me too harshly... OTL)
IMPORTANT!: I have revised Part 1, tweaked a few things, added some extra description in places. You can skim it over again if you want, but nothing changed plot-wise. All you really have to know is that I've switched to referring to Jae and Min almost exclusively by their adopted English names (Jae and Max). So don't let that throw you off in this part if you don't reread that one. ^^
Word Count: 3,943
Summary: Changmin and Jaejoong are good hunters, and there aren't many things they can't kill one way or another. When they run into one of the rare exceptions to that rule, they're forced to seek help from an outside source. The Winchesters aren't sure how much help they'll be, but they're always up for an interesting challenge. And this case is nothing if not interesting.
Warnings: some scenes of torture, platonic!JaeMin
Previous: Part 1
Part 2
Jae scowls as he flips through yet another dusty, old book. While the other three had initially thrown themselves into the research, true geeks that they are, both Jae and Dean had finally found common ground in that neither of them really enjoys this part of the job. Add in the fact that Jae has trouble understanding some of the more antiquated or overly-academic English, and it's just been a miserable three days since they'd arrived at the salvage yard. Even Sam, Max, and Bobby seem to be getting weary of the constant reading while being no closer to an answer.
Busy typing another word into his phone's translator - it's not perfect, but at least it gives him a general idea for the most part - Jae starts slightly when Max slams his book shut with a huff. "This is getting us nowhere," the youngest growls out, waving away the dust plume that had erupted when he'd closed the book. "Even when we do manage to come across anything that even remotely resembles the yuryeong, it only tells us what we already know about it. Traditional lore isn't gonna help us here."
"You got any better ideas then?" Bobby half snaps at him. Only half, because as much as he doesn't want to cede defeat, the kid has a point. His generally trusty books aren't gaining them any ground on this thing.
Max sighs, resting against the back of his chair and tilting his head back to stare up at the ceiling. "We need to just use what we know about creatures in general and brainstorm how this thing was changed. Maybe from there, we can figure out something that will work against it."
"You have a theory already," Jae states, studying Max's profile. It's not hard to see Max has something big on his mind to someone who knows the younger man as well as Jae does.
Max nods with a grimace, pinching the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger. "Something obviously messed with this monster somehow, morphed it into something beyond the traditional yuryeong. And when you consider the people it's been targeting..."
Jae suddenly understands exactly where Max is leading with this, and a heavy weight settles in the pit of his stomach. "Shit. You think the Centre is behind this somehow?"
The other three perk up at that, latching onto the unfamiliar reference. Neither Jae nor Max pauses to explain further, though, as Max replies to the question. "It makes sense, doesn't it? A creature from Korea all the way in the U.S., changed in a way that would take some massive supernatural know-how, specifically hunting down psychics. I'm assuming Phillips has this thing on a leash somehow."
Jae scowls at the name, eyes burning with rage, and Dean finally loses what little patience he'd managed to scrape up. "Will one of you please share with the class? What the hell is the Centre, and who the hell is this Phillips person?"
Finally lowering his head to look at them again, Max contemplates his answer for a long minute before starting. "The Centre is an organization based in Seoul for paranormal research. They have different departments: psychic powers, supernatural creatures, and paranormal phenomena among others. I was a... student, if you want to call it that, of the psy powers division. When I mentioned my last memory of my parents was them driving away? That's where they left me. I lived there for a little over 13 years, from the time I was five until just before my 18th birthday. Phillips, the sadistic bastard, was the doctor in charge of my training."
"And you think he's behind this? Why?" Bobby questions.
"Because I'm a very valuable commodity," Max replies with a wry smirk. "You have to understand, psychic powers are hell on the body physically. Most people, they have one or two powers max and they suffer nosebleeds, crippling migraines, exhaustion. Eventually their bodies just burn out completely. We don't have the life expectancy of a normal person. For someone like me, with as many powers as I have at the strength they are... I wasn't expected to even make it to puberty. It flies in the face of all their research, and so I became their little pet guinea pig. I'm too important for them to just let me go. Phillips would have both the motive and the necessary resources to bind this thing to him and let it start hunting down psychics to find me."
Jae fights off the urge to punch something as he listens to Max's explanation, to the flat tone in his voice that covers up all the raging emotions Max struggles with. "Which means Phillips has figured out we're in the U.S. And considering how close we were to where the yuryeong started its attacks, he probably even knows our general location."
When Max meets Jae's eyes, Jae can make out the barely-restrained fear simmering under Max's carefully controlled facade. Jae itches to reassure him, to promise him that Phillips will never hurt him again, that they won't let anything happen to him. He can't, though. He promised a long time ago to never lie to Max, and making promises he isn't sure he can keep definitely falls under the banner of lying.
~*~~*~
Not exactly a chatterbox even before the big revelation, Max falls virtually silent in the aftermath. He takes to wandering around the salvage yard, long walks at any hour of the day or night, mostly only speaking during their marathon sessions of theorizing and planning.
Sam knows there's more to his story, more they haven't been told, but as much as he'd like answers to his many questions, he doesn't want to upset Max any further. He's developed a bit of a soft spot for the younger hunter in the few days Jae and Max had been staying with them, and he's starting to figure out what Dean means when he rags on Sam for his puppy-dog looks. Max's big eyes would definitely fit into the 'kicked puppy' category, dark and expressive.
When he's out on his own meandering walk a couple days later and spots Max sitting cross-legged under a shade tree in a corner of the yard, Sam hesitates only a moment before striding over and taking a seat next to him. Max spares him a quick glance from the corner of his eyes before continuing to stare into the distance. "You wanna talk about it?" he asks lightly.
Max gives him a one-shouldered shrug and bites his lip. "It's... complicated," he replies quietly without looking at Sam. "Or maybe not, really. I guess it's actually pretty simple. Phillips terrifies me. I don't think I've ever been as scared of anything as I am of that man. The fact that he knows where I am, that he has this personalized monster out on a quest to find me... People are dying because of it, but the thought of facing him... God, I don't even know."
And Sam thinks he can relate in a way, just a bit, because isn't he in the same kind of situation with the YED? Though the fact that Max's bigger fear is the human, not the monster, is rather telling. It definitely falls under Dean's saying about dealing with monsters versus people.
Sam looks at Max for a long time, wondering just how far he can go to satisfy some of his inherent curiosity. He doesn't want to upset the kid, (And how weird is it that he can call another hunter that for once?) but he has so many questions running around in his head. Finally, he decides to just go for it. "What... did he do to you? While you were at that place, that 'Centre'."
Max scoffs, a bitter smirk on his lips, as he continues to stare out in the distance. "The better question would be what didn't he do to me?" Pausing, he eventually turns to looks at Sam, studying and scrutinizing, and Sam gets the feeling it's some kind of test. Satisfied by whatever he finds, Max continues, "It wasn't too terrible at first. Like I said earlier, I wasn't meant to live past puberty, so they really didn't pay any extra attention to me. But then I did. Not only did I live, but I actually got stronger as I got older. They started making demands when I hit about 13. I always said no so they hurt me for it. I managed to escape just a couple days before I turned 18, and that's when I met Jae."
Hearing the other man's name reminds Sam of another thing he'd been meaning to ask them about. "Jae... You call him something else sometimes; I'm assuming it's a Korean word. A nickname or something?"
Back on neutral ground, some of the tension drains from Max's posture, and he turns to face Sam again. "Yeah, 'hyung'. It's... not really a nickname. It translates to 'big brother' basically, but it's not only used for family relationships. It's kind of an honorific term, used from younger guys to older that they're close to."
"Only between guys, though?" Sam questions.
Max makes a small hum of agreement. "'Hyung' specifically is only between guys. There are other terms for a guy to call a girl or for younger girls to call older guys or girls. It's kind of complicated, I guess, but it's so ingrained growing up in Korea that we really don't even think about it."
Sam nods. "That makes sense. I'm sure there's plenty about American culture and language that's the same way. Stuff that we do or say because we just know it, but it'd be really difficult to explain to someone who didn't grow up with it."
"Gee, geeking out over culture lessons together?" a voice teases from behind them. Sam recognize the familiar drawl of his brother's voice instantly, but Max whirls around to watch the older hunter approach. "Who'da thunk it, really?"
Sam scowls, silently warning Dean not to scare Max off. While there's no tension between them like with Dean and Jae, Max has never really been able to fully relax in Dean's presence. "Shut up, jerk," is all he says out loud as Dean gets closer.
"Bitch," his brother shoots back with a bright grin, message obviously received. Max watches them with a small smile on his face, and Dean takes a moment to study him. Dean prides himself on his ability to read people, but even after nearly a week, Max is still very much a mystery. He trusts, for the most part, that the kid's no danger to them, but Max is holding far too many secrets for Dean to let his guard down completely the way Sam already has. Shaking himself from his observations, Dean reminds himself of why he'd come out in the first place. "Get a move on, dorks. Bobby's calling a group meeting."
~*~~*~
"What's up, Bobby?" Sam asks when they're all settled in various spots around the living room. Bobby sits behind his desk, a not-quite-large cardboard box sitting open in front of him. Sam and Dean take up the couch, Jae sits on a chair next to Bobby's desk, and Changmin contents himself with folding himself cross-legged on the floor next to Jae's chair. When he'd first sat down, Dean had stared at him for a long moment, contemplating how a guy that tall with limbs that long can sit on the ground so gracefully. (And does it make him racist to think it might be cultural?)
"Couple things," Bobby replies, resting a hand on top of the box. "Just got these in, some books that should actually be able to give us some answers. Problem is that a lot of them are in Korean, so we'll need a translator."
Jae shrugs. "Not really so much of a problem with me and Min here," he counters. "So what's the other thing?"
"We've got a hunt. I'd normally pass it on to someone else, but the body count's rising, and the next closest hunter is over a day's drive away," Bobby explains.
"So what're we lookin' at exactly?" Dean asks.
Bobby shrugs. "Not quite sure yet. Possible black dog maybe. Four bodies in the last five days found in the woods, mauled beyond recognition and partially eaten. Entirely possible the 'partially eaten' part could have been done by local scavengers, though, so even that's not giving us much extra info."
"Oooh, you should take Min along then. Black dogs are kind of a specialty for him," Jae announces, a note of bragging clear in his tone.
The other three blink at him for a second before turning their gazes on Max. "How in the world can black dogs be a 'specialty'?" Bobby questions.
Max ducks his head bashfully and offers a half-shrug. "They're pretty easy, really," he declares. "Pin 'em down and light 'em up, and you're good to go. Really, that first part is the hardest with them."
"Alright. Well then," Dean starts, recovering from Max's matter-of-fact statements, "if Max goes on the hunt, guess that leaves Jae here to help with the translating. Sammy? Assuming you're gonna want to stay here and geek out on the new books?"
Sam looks back at his brother and grins. "If at all possible, yeah."
Dean gives him a little nod then turn back to look at Max again. "Looks like it's me and you then, kid."
"I do hope you don't plan on making that a habit," Max replies simply. Dean's only answer is a broad, mischievous grin, and Max heaves a long-suffering sigh. Sometimes, a lot of times, he really hates being the youngest.
~*~~*~
The location had been about a four hour drive from Bobby's house, though Max was pretty sure it should have taken at least another hour over that. Not that it worries him much. For all their animosity towards each other, Dean and Jae are remarkably alike in a lot of ways - driving habits no exception.
After checking into a motel in close proximity to the forest they'd be scouting, they'd then made quick work of examining the bodies and talking to any witnesses. All said and done, both had been comfortable with calling this a black dog and hiking into the woods.
"That's not a black dog," Max whispers as they listen to the creature moving through the trees just outside of their visual range. The fact twists his stomach as all of his muscles tense up; they are so not prepared for this. "We need to leave. Now."
Dean glances at him, eyes wide. "What? Why? How do you know?"
"Because I can't get it pinned down," Max replies, voice miraculously steady despite the shaky fluttering in his chest. "Whatever it is is either resistant to me or able to throw me off. I've only known two things able to do that, only one of which can move that fast, and Sam and Jae are still researching how to fight it back at Bobby's."
Before Dean can formulate a reply, the creature enters the opposite side of the clearing and just stands there. Watching them. Dean takes the chance to get a good look at the beast. The thing seems to be right around their height, maybe 6 feet or so, gray-white hair tied up in some kind of Asian topknot. Black veins run through skin lightly shaded bluish-gray, and the long hands that hang at its sides taper off into long claws.
Take away the claws and the coloring, though, and the monster's features are disturbingly human. Dean pictures it with Max's skin color and black hair and realizes the creature could pass as any college-aged Asian kid. Before he can really pursue that train of thought, though, the thing is out of sight again.
Max grabs his arm and starts pulling, and Dean turns to nod at him. "Yeah, I know. Let's get out of here."
They turn around to retrace their steps out of the forest, only to come face-to-face with the creature Dean had just finished studying. Moonlight glances off the sharp claws as the thing swipes a hand at Max. Dean pulls the kid back, attempting to keep him clear, but he still hears a small grunt of pain as the hand comes down.
Raising his shotgun, Dean quickly unloads a shot in the creature's chest. It staggers back, blue-black blood appearing in a few spots, but it's not nearly enough damage to take the thing down. Max flicks his wrist, though, and the monster is suddenly surrounded by a circle of fire. "I can't use my powers on it directly," Max explains as they edge around the flames and onto the path they'd walked up on, "but I can at least keep it contained long enough for us to get back to the car."
They maintain a steadily rushed pace back out of the forest, not wanting to take any chances that the creature could escape before they're clear. Max keeps a hand pressed to his side, but his step never falters. And if Dean had held on to any doubts about Max being tougher than he appears, those quickly dissolve during their hasty retreat.
~*~~*~
Max hisses as he moves into the motel room, the long gashes wrapping around his torso pulling and stretching as he gingerly slips out of his t-shirt. It's such an instinctual move, routine from working with Jae for the last few years, that he doesn't even think twice about it. Until he hears the complete lack of movement from behind him and it hits him. Jae isn't here. He spins around to face Dean, who raises his eyes from where he'd obviously been studying Max's exposed back.
"Those aren't hunting scars," Dean states. He's well acquainted with hunting scars: bullets and claws and knives. The designs and patterns covering the kid's back match none of those. "What are they?" His tone is controlled, even and quiet.
Max hesitates for just a moment, eyes shifting side to side as if searching for a way out of this conversation. "Brands," he finally says, just as quietly. "Some from hot brands but most from liquid nitrogen freeze burns. The star symbols in particular mark me as property of the Centre."
The air sticks in Dean's chest at the soft, resigned statement. It's pretty much exactly as he'd assumed when he first saw the smooth scars but somehow so much worse at the same time. Branded. Like property. Like cattle. "How old were you?"
Sinking carefully onto his bed, Max offers a one-shouldered shrug. "I'm not sure exactly," he replies. "Kinda lost track of time after a while. It happened a few times until I got out, but my best guess for the first time I was... I dunno, maybe 16 or so."
Dean had had his fair share of - sometimes serious - injuries at 16 from hunting with his father. These weren't injuries, though. This was torture, plain and simple, inflicted on a kid who had refused to say yes to the bad guys. Sam would probably know what to say in this situation, something sympathetic and intelligent, but hell if Dean could come up with anything himself. So, instead, he oh-so-subtly shifts the conversation. "Need any help with those scratches?"
Max offers him a half-smile at the subject change. On Sam, the expression would have more than likely pissed him off since Sam's half-smiles in situations like this tend to be full of "I know what you're doing, and I'm sorry you can't deal with emotional moments." The little bitch. Max's half-smile, though, is some mix of grateful and exhausted, and Dean's starting to see where Jae's crazy protective streak (and coming from him, that's saying something) comes from.
"It looks worse than it is," Max replies, raising his arm to examine the wounds snaking around his side again. "Think my jacket absorbed a lot of the impact. They've all mostly stopped bleeding so I think I really just need to clean them out and cover them."
Dean crosses the room to get a look at the wounds himself, not entirely trusting the kid to come clean (mostly due to the fact that both he and Sam have the bad habit of downplaying their own injuries) and not willing to risk Jae's wrath should Max bleed out or develop an infection overnight. He seems to be telling the truth, though; all of the gashes have, for the most part, stopped bleeding and shouldn't require any stitches. "Need any help?"
Max takes a second to look at the slashes again, as much as he can see anyway. They start low on the right side of his chest and follow his ribs around under his arm to his back. "Yeah, probably," he admits. "I'd be able to do most of it, but I can't see where they end to make sure they're cleaned properly in the back."
Nodding, Dean claps a hand to Max's shoulder. "Why don't you head to the bathroom, start washing 'em out? I'll get the first aid kit and meet you in there." He turns away without waiting for Max's answer, already heading for his duffle in the corner, but he hears the movement as the kid stands and follows his directions.
Max has the blood and dirt cleaned from his front and side by the time Dean gets into the bathroom with the kit, and Dean takes the rag to finish the job. It has to sting like a bitch, but Max hardly makes a sound as Dean clears away the rest of the mess then starts to smear antibiotic cream over each slice. "It's kinda nice," Dean observes, only half talking to the younger hunter, "not having to fight to get an injury taken care of. Sam always insists he's fine or, barring that, that he can take care of it himself."
Another half-smile, and Dean wonders if Max ever outright grins. Laughs even. "I used to do that," Max replies quietly. Everything about him is quiet, really. "It used to drive Jae crazy. I guess... I was just so used to taking care of myself, y'know? When I first started living with him, it never even occurred to me that he would want to help, let alone that maybe I should ask him to sometimes. It took him a long time and constant nagging to break me of that. Now it's just habit to be honest. Plus, well, have you ever seen him handle his knives? I'd kind of like to stay on his good side."
Dean snorts at the statement, in total agreement. As good as Jae is with a gun (proven on the make-shift shooting range in Bobby's backyard), the guy's downright scary with a blade in his hands. Finally finishing with the cream, Dean pulls out a roll of gauze and starts wrapping Max's chest. When he's satisfied that he has all the wounds covered, he cuts the gauze off the remaining roll and tapes down the end. "Alright, kid, think you're done."
Max scowls as he turns to face Dean. "I'm not a kid," he retorts with a glare, arms crossed over his chest, and Dean can see so easily the petulant smartass the kid could have been in a different life.
The expression and the tone are so reminiscent of his brother's "Don't call me Sammy" that Dean can't help his bright smile in the face of it. "Uh-huh. Whatever you say, kid."