Mistaken Identities, 2/?
Summary: Dark Angel/Supernatural Crossover. Ames White grinned as he saw the Impala drive past him. He had finally found 494
As always
Pixel_0 rocks
Back to Chapter 1
Chapter 2
For hours they had searched amongst the orchard, Sam, telling himself that he couldn’t leave the job unfinished, and now the tree was burnt, the god vanquished, destroyed, burning in the bark. Smoke rising on a new day, and Emily had gotten on her bus and wished him good luck in finding his brother.
She had already tried to apologise numerous times, for what she wasn’t sure, but Sam wouldn’t let her. Granted after untying her, they had run around in an attempt to avoid the scarecrow and find Dean, but they had only succeeded in finding the townsfolk and their guns. Screams had filled the night as two of the townspeople had then been dragged away by the scarecrow, but still was no sign of Sam’s brother.
None of it mattered. Before, he had been worried before when Dean hadn’t answered his phone for three hours, enough to abandon his previous want to find their father as soon possible, and go with Meg to California. That same worry had led him to the crime of commandeering a vehicle, and his worry had helped him find Dean, who was about to be killed as a sacrifice. Everything had lead him to here, to saving his brother only to have him taken by something else?
His worry had blinded him to the dangers lurking behind him in the orchard, and his worry had ensured Dean was not with him now as he drove far from the towns he passed in search of his older brother. He stopped the car, feeling exhaustion win over, and sighed.
He had entered the police station in the second town over with an air of confidence so untrue. And now as he sat, he grabbed his cell phone, and dialled the familiar number of his father’s phone. The voicemail picked up, and he tried not to focus on the words telling anyone who phoned to contact Dean, he can help.
“Dad, Dean’s missing. Someone took him.” He had to be direct, to the point. “I don’t know who, or why. We got the scarecrow, but in the woods someone took him. People, or at least,” he paused, “they looked like people. They looked official, I don’t know, maybe they were here about St Louis, or something,” he continued, already assuming his father would have heard about that little mix up.
“There were speed cameras, they, they uh got the number plates. Seattle registration, but nothing more, I couldn’t get access to the traffic cams without them getting suspicious. I-” He paused, unsure of how to go on, hating talking to this voicemail and begging for help.
“I don’t know what to do, Dad.” he said, allowing the broken tone to filter through the phone and hoping it might jerk something awake within John Winchester to come to his son’s aid. Sam hung up solemnly, leaving it on that final plea, unable to do anymore, unaware of how John would hear the voicemail, and hear the distinct likeness between the one Sam currently left and the one Dean had left him not too long ago in Kansas.
The car was parked at the side of the road, and he could feel his eyes drooping already. He had driven for hours and lied so many times, getting information, looking for his brother. He was exhausted, and it had been so long since he had even thought about sleeping. He let his head fall back and dozed off slightly, allowing himself rest before he would continue on with the search.
*-*-*
“Hello?” Logan greeted whoever was on the phone with a questioning tone.
“It’s John, John Winchester.” The voice began but quickly cut off any plans of Logan’s to catch up. “You said Eyes Only wanted me to keep a look out, saying White had left Seattle?” John said into the phone, repeating what he had been told a few days ago.
“Yes, that’s right,” Logan said cautiously and cringed at the words that followed.
“I think he has my son.”
“Tell me everything you know, John.”
*-*-*
“Ben, I can’t,” the female said brokenly, as she held the body in her arms.
“Please,” the man begged, hurt and lying on the grass, the man she was talking to, the man called Ben. “You know what they’ll do to me; they’ll put me down there with them, the nomlies, please.” He was speaking in hushed tones with his eyes casting looks all across the woodland. The leaves were illuminated in the sunlight streaming down on them.
She looked away, whispering, “Tell me about the good place.” Changing the subject indefinitely and sighing, biting back tears as he spoke to her in reply.
“Where no one ever gets punished,” he continued, cryptically, though the words made perfect sense to her. Reminding her of a childish dream she had once believed, and he spoke in such a way as though he had done so before, and he had done so before, as children, and in his mind.
“And no one gets yelled at.” The words were innocent and naïve, and Ben continued once more.
“And nobody disappears, and when you wake up in the morning you can stay in bed as long as you-”
The crack rang through the air, filtered with the sobs of the woman as her dark hair fell forward, and she cradled the lifeless form of her dear brother.
“No!” Sam screamed as he awoke from the gruesome nightmare. My brother, not hers
He was panting, searching for air, looking around him with wild eyes, before calming as he saw dawn breaking around him. An early morning start. He gripped the wheel beneath his fingers, taking more deep breaths, when his phone rang, the tone making it slide across the interior of the Impala seat as it sat on the passenger side where Dean should be.
No, where I should be, and Dean driving...
And for the second time in so many days, Sam had woken up, had answered the phone, and heard his father’s gruff voice on the other end.
“What’s going on Sammy?” the older man asked, his body pressed into the same Sacramento phone booth as before, clutching the telephone tightly in his grip.
“You got my message?”
“Yes. You said they were Seattle plates?”
“Yeah,” Sam nodded, running a hand through his hair. “I said I’d been chasing a car in the area, but they started getting all cagey when I asked about traffic cams further down the road.”
“Look, Sam, I’ve got some friends in Seattle, and I sent them the pictures from the traffic cams-”
“You got them? D-did you see what took him? Who took him?”
“Yes, Sam, but I don’t think it’s because of St Louis. I think it’s something else, something much worse.”
“What, Dad? What’s going on?”
“Sam, just listen to me, you have to get to Seattle, there’s a man there, Logan Cale, he’s a friend of mine, and he can help, find your brother, Sam.”
“Dad-” Sam stopped himself, surprised that his father now wanted him to enter the war zone that was present day, Seattle. He didn’t want the man to hang up, he wanted-needed-help. “I saw Dean die, Dad.”
Only silence met him on the other end, and Sam continued, “In my dreams, he-he died.” And Sam ignored the relief when the older man didn’t start the same speech Dean had, about everybody having weird dreams, and the like.
“You saw Dean die?” John asked, confused. Sam nodded and mumbled in response, and more silence met him as John tried to comprehend what he heard, while recalling warnings of Sam’s power from Missouri.
“I have to find him,” Sam said, with more confidence than before, as if coming to the conclusion himself.
“What killed him, Sam?”
“A girl, she, she snapped his neck.”
“A girl?” Sam wasn’t sure if his father’s disbelief spawned from being sexist, or human-ist, if such a thing existed...
“He asked her to, he was afraid of something, someone was after them and he-he was hurt, he couldn’t get away, he made her do it.”
“Dean wouldn’t do that,” John said simply, with a confidence that made Sam’s blood boil.
“I saw it, Dad,” he growled, leaving no room for argument. “Now are you going to help me or not?”
“Find Logan, Sam, and find your brother. Get to Seattle.”
*-*-*
“You rang?” Max called as she entered the penthouse, holding up her pager with the code 911 flashing on it; its meaning was clear.
“Hey, in here,” Logan replied from the other room, and Max made her way to the Eyes Only base of operations, otherwise known as Logan’s desk covered in IT equipment that allowed the man to hack into the television networks without being traced. Logan was saying the repeated Logan-Slogan tagline into the webcam.
“Do not attempt to adjust your set. This is a streaming freedom video bulletin. It cannot be traced, it cannot be stopped and it is the only free voice left in the city.”
Max leaned against the doorframe, watching as the man she had fallen in love with typed away at his computer, his glasses slanted slightly, his hair a mess and a pen in his mouth, as his fingers danced across the keys.
“Something going down?” she asked casually, unsure of why she was there.
“Yeah,” he said, finishing his typing and spinning in his chair to face her, leaning back slightly to let her see the screen should the need arise. “I got a call from a friend of mine, he’s helped Eyes Only out in the past, ex-Marine, his son’s gone missing.”
“I didn’t know Eyes Only did missing persons,” she said, in the same casual tone.
“And normally, my friend probably would never have contacted me, but he found some surveillance footage from the kidnappers.” He turned back to his screen and pulled up the black and white slideshow he had ready. Max stepped forward, looking closely as Logan flicked through them. Each page showed an unmarked car getting closer and closer until it passed by the camera. She saw the amount of pictures left dwindling, she saw one and wondered if the person was familiar to her. Then she saw the next and knew.
Ames White had his gun pulled out, aiming at the camera, and the next photo, the last one, held nothing but static. Clearly the agent had assumed that would take care of any evidence, but the police station had already received the pictures when the camera had been shot.
“Ames,” Max said in a whisper. “Are you sure that’s the right car?”
“I thought maybe it was a coincidence, but I checked, Max, that’s the only car that passed through there at the time, except for the brother’s, no one else left town.”
“Brother’s?”
“Yeah, the next morning the brother drove past, in pursuit.”
“What does Ames want with some kid?”
“He’s twenty-seven,” he said, getting another picture ready. But before he hit the button, “Now, I asked the father, John Winchester, to send over a picture, so we’d know what we were looking for.”
He opened up the email, and as the jpeg loaded, Max read the words beneath. This was taken a few years ago. Dean’s on the left, Sammy’s on the right, I’m sending him to Seattle to help find Dean. The words were simple, but Max couldn’t help but wonder how the man had felt writing them. How he had felt attaching such a precious document to the email.
The tallest, the man on the right, this Sammy, had long hair just beginning to fall over his forehead. The other’s hair was lighter and spiked somewhat. Sam wore a dark thin jacket, with a light shirt underneath, while the brother wore a thicker black jacket over a red shirt and dark tee. A pendant, unique and gold, hung from his neck, but Max couldn’t stop looking at his face. His lips curved into a harmless grin that made her sure he was anything but.
Max was speechless, and she looked at Logan, confused.
“I haven’t been able to get in contact with the other son, so he’s gonna be pretty surprised if he sees Alec. It might be a good idea if you could try and catch up with him, let him in on some of this, in case this Sammy-kid meets him first.”
“What is this, though? This guy, Dean... he’s not transgenic?”
“Nope, one-hundred-percent ordinary.”
“So White has him because he thinks he’s Alec?”
“It must be. I’m trying to get some information on him now, just in case, but this man, John, he would have told me if he knew anything, and he honestly didn’t. The only reason he knows about Ames is because I told pretty much everyone Eyes Only has contacts with to keep an eye out ever since White left Seattle a few days ago.”
Max nodded, still trying to get her head around the situation, and though Logan understood it was difficult and had more time to digest all of this, he still needed them to act fast. Who knew how angry White would be once he realised Dean Winchester was no transgenic.
“Alec said something about delivering a few important packages, despite my earlier warnings,” Logan explained, hiding a grin, and Max caught on immediately, unbelieving that her fellow soldier could be such an idiot sometimes.
*-*-*
The drive to Seattle was one down in record time, with Sam-the-scared-little-brother taking over the wheel more than Sam-the-careful-cautious-driver did.
The dilapidated city had more than surprised him. He couldn’t believe his own eyes, he knew of the tragedy surrounding the Seattle city, and immediate areas, and he knew of the response, or lack of, from the nearby states regarding cleaning up the mess this terrorist attack had caused. He remembered the sparked outrage across the world with the refusal to clean up the problems in a post-pulse world. The place had practically been in lock-down ever since, cordoned off, effectively creating a third-world country in the centre of America.
He realised he would have to be a lot more sneaky than usual to get around with checkpoints littering the place. He parked the car and hid in the shadows for the most part, until reaching the bustling streets and feeling more at ease to walk down them, down the rubble of sidewalks with the steam from the drains lifting high into the air.
He walked around cautiously, keeping his eyes open for anything suspicious, though it was hard in this Havana like city. Everywhere he looked something was happening, something shady was going down, and he couldn’t discern from what he needed to see and what he didn’t.
Then, Sam saw him disappearing down an alleyway, and at first he blamed it on his desire to find his brother, and if he should cross the distance, he would see that they were indeed very different. But they weren’t, and deep down, Sam knew it, and yet, though he was searching for Dean, a part of him nagged at him and told him quite clearly, that though this man also worse leather and held his brother’s face, if not a little younger, it was not him. He could see that so far no one had dared go into that particular alleyway, and many crossed the road to avoid it, which was never a good sign.
He then saw that he wasn’t alone in following this young man’s movements. There was a girl in the crowd, tall, clad in black, with brown straight hair , wheeling a bike next to her and making her way to the alleyway. Her jaw was set in mild anger and annoyance.
Sam made his way closer now, overly curious and incredibly confused. After all, doppelganger or not, this could prove to be quite interesting.
TBC
On to Chapter 3
As always
Pixel_0 rocks
Back to Chapter 1
Chapter 2
For hours they had searched amongst the orchard, Sam, telling himself that he couldn’t leave the job unfinished, and now the tree was burnt, the god vanquished, destroyed, burning in the bark. Smoke rising on a new day, and Emily had gotten on her bus and wished him good luck in finding his brother.
She had already tried to apologise numerous times, for what she wasn’t sure, but Sam wouldn’t let her. Granted after untying her, they had run around in an attempt to avoid the scarecrow and find Dean, but they had only succeeded in finding the townsfolk and their guns. Screams had filled the night as two of the townspeople had then been dragged away by the scarecrow, but still was no sign of Sam’s brother.
None of it mattered. Before, he had been worried before when Dean hadn’t answered his phone for three hours, enough to abandon his previous want to find their father as soon possible, and go with Meg to California. That same worry had led him to the crime of commandeering a vehicle, and his worry had helped him find Dean, who was about to be killed as a sacrifice. Everything had lead him to here, to saving his brother only to have him taken by something else?
His worry had blinded him to the dangers lurking behind him in the orchard, and his worry had ensured Dean was not with him now as he drove far from the towns he passed in search of his older brother. He stopped the car, feeling exhaustion win over, and sighed.
He had entered the police station in the second town over with an air of confidence so untrue. And now as he sat, he grabbed his cell phone, and dialled the familiar number of his father’s phone. The voicemail picked up, and he tried not to focus on the words telling anyone who phoned to contact Dean, he can help.
“Dad, Dean’s missing. Someone took him.” He had to be direct, to the point. “I don’t know who, or why. We got the scarecrow, but in the woods someone took him. People, or at least,” he paused, “they looked like people. They looked official, I don’t know, maybe they were here about St Louis, or something,” he continued, already assuming his father would have heard about that little mix up.
“There were speed cameras, they, they uh got the number plates. Seattle registration, but nothing more, I couldn’t get access to the traffic cams without them getting suspicious. I-” He paused, unsure of how to go on, hating talking to this voicemail and begging for help.
“I don’t know what to do, Dad.” he said, allowing the broken tone to filter through the phone and hoping it might jerk something awake within John Winchester to come to his son’s aid. Sam hung up solemnly, leaving it on that final plea, unable to do anymore, unaware of how John would hear the voicemail, and hear the distinct likeness between the one Sam currently left and the one Dean had left him not too long ago in Kansas.
The car was parked at the side of the road, and he could feel his eyes drooping already. He had driven for hours and lied so many times, getting information, looking for his brother. He was exhausted, and it had been so long since he had even thought about sleeping. He let his head fall back and dozed off slightly, allowing himself rest before he would continue on with the search.
*-*-*
“Hello?” Logan greeted whoever was on the phone with a questioning tone.
“It’s John, John Winchester.” The voice began but quickly cut off any plans of Logan’s to catch up. “You said Eyes Only wanted me to keep a look out, saying White had left Seattle?” John said into the phone, repeating what he had been told a few days ago.
“Yes, that’s right,” Logan said cautiously and cringed at the words that followed.
“I think he has my son.”
“Tell me everything you know, John.”
*-*-*
“Ben, I can’t,” the female said brokenly, as she held the body in her arms.
“Please,” the man begged, hurt and lying on the grass, the man she was talking to, the man called Ben. “You know what they’ll do to me; they’ll put me down there with them, the nomlies, please.” He was speaking in hushed tones with his eyes casting looks all across the woodland. The leaves were illuminated in the sunlight streaming down on them.
She looked away, whispering, “Tell me about the good place.” Changing the subject indefinitely and sighing, biting back tears as he spoke to her in reply.
“Where no one ever gets punished,” he continued, cryptically, though the words made perfect sense to her. Reminding her of a childish dream she had once believed, and he spoke in such a way as though he had done so before, and he had done so before, as children, and in his mind.
“And no one gets yelled at.” The words were innocent and naïve, and Ben continued once more.
“And nobody disappears, and when you wake up in the morning you can stay in bed as long as you-”
The crack rang through the air, filtered with the sobs of the woman as her dark hair fell forward, and she cradled the lifeless form of her dear brother.
“No!” Sam screamed as he awoke from the gruesome nightmare. My brother, not hers
He was panting, searching for air, looking around him with wild eyes, before calming as he saw dawn breaking around him. An early morning start. He gripped the wheel beneath his fingers, taking more deep breaths, when his phone rang, the tone making it slide across the interior of the Impala seat as it sat on the passenger side where Dean should be.
No, where I should be, and Dean driving...
And for the second time in so many days, Sam had woken up, had answered the phone, and heard his father’s gruff voice on the other end.
“What’s going on Sammy?” the older man asked, his body pressed into the same Sacramento phone booth as before, clutching the telephone tightly in his grip.
“You got my message?”
“Yes. You said they were Seattle plates?”
“Yeah,” Sam nodded, running a hand through his hair. “I said I’d been chasing a car in the area, but they started getting all cagey when I asked about traffic cams further down the road.”
“Look, Sam, I’ve got some friends in Seattle, and I sent them the pictures from the traffic cams-”
“You got them? D-did you see what took him? Who took him?”
“Yes, Sam, but I don’t think it’s because of St Louis. I think it’s something else, something much worse.”
“What, Dad? What’s going on?”
“Sam, just listen to me, you have to get to Seattle, there’s a man there, Logan Cale, he’s a friend of mine, and he can help, find your brother, Sam.”
“Dad-” Sam stopped himself, surprised that his father now wanted him to enter the war zone that was present day, Seattle. He didn’t want the man to hang up, he wanted-needed-help. “I saw Dean die, Dad.”
Only silence met him on the other end, and Sam continued, “In my dreams, he-he died.” And Sam ignored the relief when the older man didn’t start the same speech Dean had, about everybody having weird dreams, and the like.
“You saw Dean die?” John asked, confused. Sam nodded and mumbled in response, and more silence met him as John tried to comprehend what he heard, while recalling warnings of Sam’s power from Missouri.
“I have to find him,” Sam said, with more confidence than before, as if coming to the conclusion himself.
“What killed him, Sam?”
“A girl, she, she snapped his neck.”
“A girl?” Sam wasn’t sure if his father’s disbelief spawned from being sexist, or human-ist, if such a thing existed...
“He asked her to, he was afraid of something, someone was after them and he-he was hurt, he couldn’t get away, he made her do it.”
“Dean wouldn’t do that,” John said simply, with a confidence that made Sam’s blood boil.
“I saw it, Dad,” he growled, leaving no room for argument. “Now are you going to help me or not?”
“Find Logan, Sam, and find your brother. Get to Seattle.”
*-*-*
“You rang?” Max called as she entered the penthouse, holding up her pager with the code 911 flashing on it; its meaning was clear.
“Hey, in here,” Logan replied from the other room, and Max made her way to the Eyes Only base of operations, otherwise known as Logan’s desk covered in IT equipment that allowed the man to hack into the television networks without being traced. Logan was saying the repeated Logan-Slogan tagline into the webcam.
“Do not attempt to adjust your set. This is a streaming freedom video bulletin. It cannot be traced, it cannot be stopped and it is the only free voice left in the city.”
Max leaned against the doorframe, watching as the man she had fallen in love with typed away at his computer, his glasses slanted slightly, his hair a mess and a pen in his mouth, as his fingers danced across the keys.
“Something going down?” she asked casually, unsure of why she was there.
“Yeah,” he said, finishing his typing and spinning in his chair to face her, leaning back slightly to let her see the screen should the need arise. “I got a call from a friend of mine, he’s helped Eyes Only out in the past, ex-Marine, his son’s gone missing.”
“I didn’t know Eyes Only did missing persons,” she said, in the same casual tone.
“And normally, my friend probably would never have contacted me, but he found some surveillance footage from the kidnappers.” He turned back to his screen and pulled up the black and white slideshow he had ready. Max stepped forward, looking closely as Logan flicked through them. Each page showed an unmarked car getting closer and closer until it passed by the camera. She saw the amount of pictures left dwindling, she saw one and wondered if the person was familiar to her. Then she saw the next and knew.
Ames White had his gun pulled out, aiming at the camera, and the next photo, the last one, held nothing but static. Clearly the agent had assumed that would take care of any evidence, but the police station had already received the pictures when the camera had been shot.
“Ames,” Max said in a whisper. “Are you sure that’s the right car?”
“I thought maybe it was a coincidence, but I checked, Max, that’s the only car that passed through there at the time, except for the brother’s, no one else left town.”
“Brother’s?”
“Yeah, the next morning the brother drove past, in pursuit.”
“What does Ames want with some kid?”
“He’s twenty-seven,” he said, getting another picture ready. But before he hit the button, “Now, I asked the father, John Winchester, to send over a picture, so we’d know what we were looking for.”
He opened up the email, and as the jpeg loaded, Max read the words beneath. This was taken a few years ago. Dean’s on the left, Sammy’s on the right, I’m sending him to Seattle to help find Dean. The words were simple, but Max couldn’t help but wonder how the man had felt writing them. How he had felt attaching such a precious document to the email.
The tallest, the man on the right, this Sammy, had long hair just beginning to fall over his forehead. The other’s hair was lighter and spiked somewhat. Sam wore a dark thin jacket, with a light shirt underneath, while the brother wore a thicker black jacket over a red shirt and dark tee. A pendant, unique and gold, hung from his neck, but Max couldn’t stop looking at his face. His lips curved into a harmless grin that made her sure he was anything but.
Max was speechless, and she looked at Logan, confused.
“I haven’t been able to get in contact with the other son, so he’s gonna be pretty surprised if he sees Alec. It might be a good idea if you could try and catch up with him, let him in on some of this, in case this Sammy-kid meets him first.”
“What is this, though? This guy, Dean... he’s not transgenic?”
“Nope, one-hundred-percent ordinary.”
“So White has him because he thinks he’s Alec?”
“It must be. I’m trying to get some information on him now, just in case, but this man, John, he would have told me if he knew anything, and he honestly didn’t. The only reason he knows about Ames is because I told pretty much everyone Eyes Only has contacts with to keep an eye out ever since White left Seattle a few days ago.”
Max nodded, still trying to get her head around the situation, and though Logan understood it was difficult and had more time to digest all of this, he still needed them to act fast. Who knew how angry White would be once he realised Dean Winchester was no transgenic.
“Alec said something about delivering a few important packages, despite my earlier warnings,” Logan explained, hiding a grin, and Max caught on immediately, unbelieving that her fellow soldier could be such an idiot sometimes.
*-*-*
The drive to Seattle was one down in record time, with Sam-the-scared-little-brother taking over the wheel more than Sam-the-careful-cautious-driver did.
The dilapidated city had more than surprised him. He couldn’t believe his own eyes, he knew of the tragedy surrounding the Seattle city, and immediate areas, and he knew of the response, or lack of, from the nearby states regarding cleaning up the mess this terrorist attack had caused. He remembered the sparked outrage across the world with the refusal to clean up the problems in a post-pulse world. The place had practically been in lock-down ever since, cordoned off, effectively creating a third-world country in the centre of America.
He realised he would have to be a lot more sneaky than usual to get around with checkpoints littering the place. He parked the car and hid in the shadows for the most part, until reaching the bustling streets and feeling more at ease to walk down them, down the rubble of sidewalks with the steam from the drains lifting high into the air.
He walked around cautiously, keeping his eyes open for anything suspicious, though it was hard in this Havana like city. Everywhere he looked something was happening, something shady was going down, and he couldn’t discern from what he needed to see and what he didn’t.
Then, Sam saw him disappearing down an alleyway, and at first he blamed it on his desire to find his brother, and if he should cross the distance, he would see that they were indeed very different. But they weren’t, and deep down, Sam knew it, and yet, though he was searching for Dean, a part of him nagged at him and told him quite clearly, that though this man also worse leather and held his brother’s face, if not a little younger, it was not him. He could see that so far no one had dared go into that particular alleyway, and many crossed the road to avoid it, which was never a good sign.
He then saw that he wasn’t alone in following this young man’s movements. There was a girl in the crowd, tall, clad in black, with brown straight hair , wheeling a bike next to her and making her way to the alleyway. Her jaw was set in mild anger and annoyance.
Sam made his way closer now, overly curious and incredibly confused. After all, doppelganger or not, this could prove to be quite interesting.
TBC
On to Chapter 3