Mistaken Identities, DA/SPN, 4/?
lovely day...sunny and everything :D
Summary: Dark Angel/Supernatural Crossover. Ames White grinned as he saw the Impala drive past him. He had finally found 494
Beta-d by the awesome pixel -- thank you hun!
Back to Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Considering how many times Logan had walked back and forth between the printer, computer, desk and bookshelf with his notes straying across tables and floors, the penthouse was fairly clean compared to the rest of the city’s crumbling housing. He was still making notes, typing every now and again, while attempting to listen to his blonde-haired guest trying to get his attention.
Asha was perched on Logan’s desk. Her short hair hanging behind her ears, she was calling Logan for the millionth time.
“Hey, are you listening?” Forcing Logan to nod distractedly, mumbling in return, before Asha finally asked what was going on.
Logan turned to look up at her, now standing.
“You know Ames White?” He queried finally, not wanting to repeat details not needed.
“The agent after the transgenics?” she asked for confirmation, remembering him being mentioned previously.
“He’s kidnapped the son of a friend of mine. Case of mistaken identity, but White doesn’t know that, and we’ve got to get him back.” He sighed once more, and Asha realised that maybe now wasn’t the best time to be asking favours.
“I’m sorry to have just sprung this on you Logan, but-”
“It’s okay, Asha, really.” He cut off her apology, seeing no real reason for it; he couldn’t put everything on hold, the world didn’t stop turning, and Asha still needed the broadcast information. She smiled gratefully, gathering up her things, while Logan still stared at the screen in front of him.
When she saw him run a hand down his face, palm stretching skin, rubbing his eyes, curiosity got the best of her, and she went to look at the information displayed.
“Dean Winchester,” she muttered, reading aloud. “Born 1979, died, woah--” She looked back at Logan. “This is the guy you’re looking for?”
He nodded.
“The died thing, I can almost understand, the pulse and all, information getting scattered, but prime suspect in multiple homicide investigations? Are you sure you want to find this guy?”
Logan ignored the comment, sighing instead. Again.
“What’s worse is John didn’t even mention this to me.”
“John?”
“Winchester, the father.”
“Well, if he thought he was just missing--”
“No, he is missing, his brother saw him kidnapped.” He sighed, shaking his head. “Besides, if he isn’t dead, who’s to say he had anything to do with the homicides?”
“And yet the dad calls you, not the police.”
“Because they’re so helpful,” he said, deadpan, and Asha felt a blush rise in her cheeks. After all, she herself had gone to Eyes Only rather than the corrupt police force several times.
“So why does White have him--mistaken identity somehow?”
“He looks like Alec.”
“Alec? As in our Alec?” Asha blurted, almost incredulous.
“He could be his twin, only not.” Logan said, frowning at his own words.
“Are you sure he isn’t?”
“He’s human.” Logan explained simply.
“You’re sure?”
“Definitely. I mean, John doesn’t even know that much about the transgenics--”
“So it makes sense that he wouldn’t know if his own son was one,” Asha cut him off, pointing out the idea’s plausibility.
“No, the twinned embryos are twins. Dean’s older than Alec, not by much, but it’s there.”
“How else can you explain it, if he’s not Manticore...?”
“Coincidence?”
“Pretty big one.”
“There’s always the theory that somewhere out there there’s doubles for all of us.”
“Yeah, but how many of them are made in a lab?”
“Not the point.”
Asha smiled, glad to see that Logan was grinning too as a result of their quick banter.
“Well,” she excused herself, “things to get done--” But as she turned to leave, the door swung open, and Max walked in with a very tall stranger.
*-*-*
He wasn’t drowning. Drowning was slower, darker. Rivers dragging down, crushing waves, pushing and pressing against lungs starved of air. He wasn’t drowning; he was choking.
Fingers were pressed tightly onto his neck, bruising the skin, and marking it as his head was thrust back into the basin. The freezing cold water jumped down his throat, his eyes burning with the cold, and skin prickling, stinging like a slap in the face. A cold, wet, icy slap. His head throbbed at the lack of air, and with his hands held back behind him, legs pinned in the same fashion, his struggles proved futile.
Brought up from the water and thrown back to the floor, Dean spluttered and coughed, ice cold water burning his sinuses as he took gulps of air greedily.
Just then White’s foot was planted directly on his chest, the heel digging in below his breast bone, the strength behind it keeping him still, while White continued to sneer.
“Where is 452?”
“I don’t know!” Dean bit out, surprisingly loud, and White dug his foot in harder, the sole pressing deep into Dean’s chest.
“I’m not in the mood for games.”
“You’re not in the mood?” Dean asked incredulously and somewhat recklessly as White fumed. “I’m the one who’s being held hostage!”
Another slap, and it was enough to silence any further rebuttal, as the sheer force sent Dean head cracking to the side, his cheek hitting the concrete floor beneath him hard enough to knock him out, cold.
*-*-*
“It’s just some bruising, you’ll be fine,” the young blonde said, as she prodded at his now bandaged torso and told him everything he already knew. Sam had tried to hide the slight wince as he had gotten onto Max’s bike, and he had managed to hide it quite well until they reached the penthouse, where the young woman, Asha, had seen the favouring of the ribs almost instantly.
She hadn’t even given him a chance to introduce himself before leading him into the other room and sitting him down to let her get a better look. In truth, he didn’t want to show an impolite attitude to her ministrations especially if this man his father had lead him to, and his friends were going to help Sam find Dean. And he was fairly sure the man, Logan Cale, wanted to speak with Max and Alec-his brother’s twin and a fiery young woman with inhuman strength-in private.
As Max’s bike had sped down the road, she had shouted back in explanation that she was helping Logan to find Sam’s brother. Sam had wanted to ask about Alec, who had been ordered to walk over to Logan’s penthouse. He wanted, no, needed to know so many things, but the rushing wind pelting them as they continued weaving back and forth between traffic was too distracting for him to bother.
Now that it had been confirmed that his ribs weren’t broken, Sam smiled politely and got to his feet, stretching his shoulders back to relieve his ribs of any pressure. He pulled his shirt on quickly and stepped out of the kitchen and into the corner where Logan sat at his desk. Max was perched on the arm of the chair, and Sam was surprised that this woman, one leg bent towards her with the other swinging against the couch, was going to be the one to help. He looked back at Logan, the stereotypical geek, with his glasses and his position so close to his computers and gadgets. Asha, he assumed, had simply been there at the time, and now she was leaving, her bag in hand, calling over to Logan,
“So you’ll talk to Eyes Only?” she asked, obviously repeating something they had spoken of previously, and Cale nodded with a smile.
When she opened the door, she jumped back and saw Alec about to come in himself, they smiled awkwardly at each other, and one wormed in, while the other wormed out. Sam found himself staring again. It was unbelievable that this person looked so much like Dean. Sure, he had seen the shape shifter, but there had only been one instance where the creature had pretended to indeed be a normal person, and shortly afterwards Sam had then woken up tied to something or other in the sewers.
Even then, in St Louis, Sam had known deep down that the shape shifter wasn’t his brother. He had sensed the evil beneath, whereas now, with Alec...
He didn’t even give Sam the creeps; if anything, he made him feel more confident in finding Dean. As though he had found someone he could truly trust with his brother’s face...
He couldn’t be a Doppelganger; despite the Winchester’s lack of experience in that field, it still held true to the evil-twin phenomena. One was good, the other was not. He had only known Alec for less than an hour, but if he was helping, then how could he be evil? And that would mean his brother was the evil one.
Definitely not a Doppelganger and the subtle difference in looks that made Alec appear younger ruled out any possibilities of being a biological twin.
And how could his father have kept that from them?
Which left...nothing. Sam didn’t have a clue what was going on, and while he was waiting for an explanation, Alec was too.
*-*-*
Twilight is dawning; the crisp evergreen leaves are spread out across the faded blue sky, stemming from the trees’ skeleton branches reaching out. The breeze bristles across the brambles, and in the distance, the last light of the sun is fading into a light yellow, scarcely seen. The buildings of the city are silhouettes in the growing dark. There’s a single white trail of a cloud left behind by the plane making its way across the air. Puffed out smoke from its tail end, fading away into space.
Suddenly it’s blown away, the trail gone, the twilight frozen, the branches stilled, and the breeze gone. The yellow brightens, and the silhouettes of skyscrapers and clock towers turn into blotched ink splatters across a ruined canvas. They loom forward, tower over him. They speak, they have mouths, they are not buildings at all, and you come awake with a start.
“For a transgenic, you sure do take a while to wake up,” White sneered, no longer an ink splatter in front of a brightening sunset, but the villain of the story, moving in and out of the bright light on the ceiling. Dean’s head rolled against his chest, and White grabbed his chin, pulling it forward looking at Dean distastefully.
“...Don’t know what you’re talking about,” Dean mumbled, and White continued to stare. There was something different about 494, he’d admit, or was the lab-made man just getting better at lying? The barcode was gone, but laser surgery might have removed it for a time, and he had been spotted in a few select police stations throughout the back roads of America’s highway towns.
“Well, you’re in luck, because there are tests to determine that much.”
*-*-*
“I don’t have time to answer questions. I have to find Dean--”
“And we’ll help,” Logan said calmly. “But we can’t do that if we don’t know all of the facts, Sam. Like why is Dean Winchester deceased according to the police records?”
To his credit, Sam didn’t even flinch. He had expected this man to have looked his brother up, especially if he was a friend of their father’s.
“He’s dead?” Alec asked, confused.
Sam turned to him, marvelling at the tone, but snapping himself out of it with a mantra that told him this was not Dean.
“We were in St Louis, a friend of mine was being accused of murder, but he hadn’t done it, he wasn’t even there. But security footage said otherwise.”
“He was lying?” Alec voiced.
“No,” Sam said firmly.
“Evil twin?” Max asked carefully, pointedly avoiding Alec’s eyes.
“No, a shape-shifter.”
“A what?” Max echoed.
“It sheds its skin, like a snake, and the new skin is mimicking someone else.”
“These things exist? I mean, even Manticore hasn’t gone that far.”
“Manticore?” Sam asked, “You mean--”
But Logan intercepted quickly, “He mimicked your brother?”
“Yes, but Dean shot it, killed it. Stopped it.”
“Are you sure it was the shape-shifter killed?” Alec asked carefully, almost wearily.
Sam nodded. The thought had crossed his mind several times after the incident. His dreams had morphed horribly from those of a dying girlfriend to the evil what if’s circling his brain. He would smile weakly as his brother helped him up off of the floor away from Becky’s arms, while Dean, his real brother, gasped and gurgled as he bled to death on the living room floor.
“I know my brother. The shape-shifter’s gone, and he’s buried in St Louis.”
“But if they see your brother, he’ll be wanted for murder again?” Max asked, to ensure she’d gotten the gist of the conversation.
“Who isn’t nowadays, huh Maxie?” Alec asked, trying to lighten the situation.
“It’s Max,” she growled, and Sam snorted at the familiarity.
“This is getting ridiculous,” Alec commented, realizing how many of “him,” there were in the world. Technically.
“I know; one of you is bad enough.”
“Oh that hurts, Maxie, it really does.”
“Damn it, Alec!”
“Your father could have mentioned this,” Logan muttered, and Sam’s head shot up.
“You’ve seen him?”
“No, he phoned, that’s how I know about this whole thing.”
“How much did he tell you, exactly?”
Logan stared back at Sam, aware that the younger man was referring to what their family did for a living. “Enough,” he said cryptically, making Max frown behind him.
“Okay, someone wanna clue us in?” Max butted in to the staring stand-off between Logan and Sam, gesturing to herself and Alec. Sam sighed, took a breath and began best he could. There was a lot to cover after all.
*-*-*
His hands were cuffed in front of him, secured to the small pole, and the agents around him ensuredthat the spaces between the vertebrae were as wide as possible. As soon as Dean began to jerk in anticipation of whatever they had planned, three men stepped forward and held him down.
The nurse held the needle in front of Dean, his eye line catching it easily, and as she moved away, he began to pull against the cuffs and away from the men’s arms.
“Hold him still,” she said sternly, well aware that this would earn her pay for the month.
Though, she had expected more from the captive, after White had explained to her all about the transgenics, preferring to tell one medical personnel member rather than an entire staff, and she had expected more of a fight.
She let the needle sink in deep. No anesthetic, no numbing of the area, nothing but the pain, and as Dean’s cry was loud enough to be heard clearly throughout the warehouse of White’s headquarters, Ames made his decision.
“Gag him,” White said coldly, as he heard yet another whimper from his captive. He smiled as the dirty cloth was shoved in the prisoner’s open mouth again and clamped down with the hand of an operative.
*-*-*
“Demons?” Max finally asked, cutting through the silence with a somewhat sceptical view. “Ghosts? What the hell?”
“Look, I explained all of this to you, so feel free to return the favour.”
“Who wants to tell him about White?” Alec asked, moving around the room, somewhat restlessly, but when no one replied, Sam let his impatience get the better of him.
“Who the hell is White?” he asked, anger increasing. “What the hell does he want?”
“Other than every transgenic’s head on a stick you mean?” Max replied coyly.
“What does he want with my brother?” Sam asked through gritted teeth.
“Not your brother,” Alec replied quietly, when no one else would, and feeling the guilt that all of this was his fault, weighing him down. He looked up at Sam, his eyes proving his pain and said, confirming what Sam already suspected, “Me.”
“Maybe we should call your father,” Logan said suddenly, at Sam’s somewhat blank face, after their attempt to explain all that the Winchester didn’t know.
“He won’t come,” Sam said, never raising his head from staring at his hands
“Don’t be so sure, once he knows how much danger your brother’s in--”
“How much danger is Dean in, exactly? This guy--”
“White.”
“Right, he’s the guy in charge of killing all of you...”
“Trangenics.”
“Why?” he asked, desperately.
“People don’t like what they can’t understand,” Max said with a shrug.
“Or control,” Alec added, grimly.
Sam stared at him for a moment. “How enhanced are you? Are you immortal? I mean--is it more than that?” he asked, recalling his own “ability.” “How does Dean fit into all of this? Is he transgenic?”
“No,” Logan cut in. “There’s no barcode, and he was born. The transgenics were created in labs at Manticore.”
“Who picked the company name? ‘Cause in my line of work it’s a beast with the face of a man.”
Max snorted behind him, but kept her silence, allowing Logan to continue his explanation.
“Honestly, I have no idea, about the name, or how this happened. Your brother’s older than Alec, and even though they look the same, they can’t have identical DNA. It’s impossible.”
“And how long until this White guy finds that out?”
“Dean’s been missing what, two days? He could already know.”
“Well, that’s comforting,” Alec quipped miserably.
“Sam, what about your dad?”
“No, not until I know more.”
Logan nodded, though not pleased by the revelation, and turned to Alec and Max.
“Any ideas?” Max asked him, as though waiting for orders.
“Actually, yes. That factory you went to, to rescue the X-5 last week--”
“You think White will still be there?” Alec asked, cynically, clearly showing he doubted the fact.
“Not in the same place, no, but he might be holding up in the same area. It’s worth a look.”
“What are you going to do?” Max asked curiously, following Alec out of the door.
“I’ll check in with Matt Sung, see if anything suspicious has popped up. We can meet back here in the morning,” Logan replied, indicating the dark descending outside. Meanwhile, Sam was standing, waiting for his own orders, but Logan had none.
“What do you mean stay here?” he asked, incredulous at Logan’s notion that he sit-tight.
“White saw you, Sam. It’s better if you stay here. Call your father,” he repeated, though knowing the younger man never would. Sam huffed, crossing his arms, trying to calm himself down at being treated like a child. It was his brother, goddamn it, surely he deserved a say in the matter? Or at least, something to do, a way to help.
He thought back to Max, and how easily she had fought those steelheads, showcasing her strength and agility. He certainly didn’t want to get on the wrong side of her temper, but this was Dean, his brother.
He spotted the computer, now left alone as Logan got up, and followed Max and Alec to the door.
He needed more information, and he’d just found the perfect way to get it.
TBC
Summary: Dark Angel/Supernatural Crossover. Ames White grinned as he saw the Impala drive past him. He had finally found 494
Beta-d by the awesome pixel -- thank you hun!
Back to Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Considering how many times Logan had walked back and forth between the printer, computer, desk and bookshelf with his notes straying across tables and floors, the penthouse was fairly clean compared to the rest of the city’s crumbling housing. He was still making notes, typing every now and again, while attempting to listen to his blonde-haired guest trying to get his attention.
Asha was perched on Logan’s desk. Her short hair hanging behind her ears, she was calling Logan for the millionth time.
“Hey, are you listening?” Forcing Logan to nod distractedly, mumbling in return, before Asha finally asked what was going on.
Logan turned to look up at her, now standing.
“You know Ames White?” He queried finally, not wanting to repeat details not needed.
“The agent after the transgenics?” she asked for confirmation, remembering him being mentioned previously.
“He’s kidnapped the son of a friend of mine. Case of mistaken identity, but White doesn’t know that, and we’ve got to get him back.” He sighed once more, and Asha realised that maybe now wasn’t the best time to be asking favours.
“I’m sorry to have just sprung this on you Logan, but-”
“It’s okay, Asha, really.” He cut off her apology, seeing no real reason for it; he couldn’t put everything on hold, the world didn’t stop turning, and Asha still needed the broadcast information. She smiled gratefully, gathering up her things, while Logan still stared at the screen in front of him.
When she saw him run a hand down his face, palm stretching skin, rubbing his eyes, curiosity got the best of her, and she went to look at the information displayed.
“Dean Winchester,” she muttered, reading aloud. “Born 1979, died, woah--” She looked back at Logan. “This is the guy you’re looking for?”
He nodded.
“The died thing, I can almost understand, the pulse and all, information getting scattered, but prime suspect in multiple homicide investigations? Are you sure you want to find this guy?”
Logan ignored the comment, sighing instead. Again.
“What’s worse is John didn’t even mention this to me.”
“John?”
“Winchester, the father.”
“Well, if he thought he was just missing--”
“No, he is missing, his brother saw him kidnapped.” He sighed, shaking his head. “Besides, if he isn’t dead, who’s to say he had anything to do with the homicides?”
“And yet the dad calls you, not the police.”
“Because they’re so helpful,” he said, deadpan, and Asha felt a blush rise in her cheeks. After all, she herself had gone to Eyes Only rather than the corrupt police force several times.
“So why does White have him--mistaken identity somehow?”
“He looks like Alec.”
“Alec? As in our Alec?” Asha blurted, almost incredulous.
“He could be his twin, only not.” Logan said, frowning at his own words.
“Are you sure he isn’t?”
“He’s human.” Logan explained simply.
“You’re sure?”
“Definitely. I mean, John doesn’t even know that much about the transgenics--”
“So it makes sense that he wouldn’t know if his own son was one,” Asha cut him off, pointing out the idea’s plausibility.
“No, the twinned embryos are twins. Dean’s older than Alec, not by much, but it’s there.”
“How else can you explain it, if he’s not Manticore...?”
“Coincidence?”
“Pretty big one.”
“There’s always the theory that somewhere out there there’s doubles for all of us.”
“Yeah, but how many of them are made in a lab?”
“Not the point.”
Asha smiled, glad to see that Logan was grinning too as a result of their quick banter.
“Well,” she excused herself, “things to get done--” But as she turned to leave, the door swung open, and Max walked in with a very tall stranger.
*-*-*
He wasn’t drowning. Drowning was slower, darker. Rivers dragging down, crushing waves, pushing and pressing against lungs starved of air. He wasn’t drowning; he was choking.
Fingers were pressed tightly onto his neck, bruising the skin, and marking it as his head was thrust back into the basin. The freezing cold water jumped down his throat, his eyes burning with the cold, and skin prickling, stinging like a slap in the face. A cold, wet, icy slap. His head throbbed at the lack of air, and with his hands held back behind him, legs pinned in the same fashion, his struggles proved futile.
Brought up from the water and thrown back to the floor, Dean spluttered and coughed, ice cold water burning his sinuses as he took gulps of air greedily.
Just then White’s foot was planted directly on his chest, the heel digging in below his breast bone, the strength behind it keeping him still, while White continued to sneer.
“Where is 452?”
“I don’t know!” Dean bit out, surprisingly loud, and White dug his foot in harder, the sole pressing deep into Dean’s chest.
“I’m not in the mood for games.”
“You’re not in the mood?” Dean asked incredulously and somewhat recklessly as White fumed. “I’m the one who’s being held hostage!”
Another slap, and it was enough to silence any further rebuttal, as the sheer force sent Dean head cracking to the side, his cheek hitting the concrete floor beneath him hard enough to knock him out, cold.
*-*-*
“It’s just some bruising, you’ll be fine,” the young blonde said, as she prodded at his now bandaged torso and told him everything he already knew. Sam had tried to hide the slight wince as he had gotten onto Max’s bike, and he had managed to hide it quite well until they reached the penthouse, where the young woman, Asha, had seen the favouring of the ribs almost instantly.
She hadn’t even given him a chance to introduce himself before leading him into the other room and sitting him down to let her get a better look. In truth, he didn’t want to show an impolite attitude to her ministrations especially if this man his father had lead him to, and his friends were going to help Sam find Dean. And he was fairly sure the man, Logan Cale, wanted to speak with Max and Alec-his brother’s twin and a fiery young woman with inhuman strength-in private.
As Max’s bike had sped down the road, she had shouted back in explanation that she was helping Logan to find Sam’s brother. Sam had wanted to ask about Alec, who had been ordered to walk over to Logan’s penthouse. He wanted, no, needed to know so many things, but the rushing wind pelting them as they continued weaving back and forth between traffic was too distracting for him to bother.
Now that it had been confirmed that his ribs weren’t broken, Sam smiled politely and got to his feet, stretching his shoulders back to relieve his ribs of any pressure. He pulled his shirt on quickly and stepped out of the kitchen and into the corner where Logan sat at his desk. Max was perched on the arm of the chair, and Sam was surprised that this woman, one leg bent towards her with the other swinging against the couch, was going to be the one to help. He looked back at Logan, the stereotypical geek, with his glasses and his position so close to his computers and gadgets. Asha, he assumed, had simply been there at the time, and now she was leaving, her bag in hand, calling over to Logan,
“So you’ll talk to Eyes Only?” she asked, obviously repeating something they had spoken of previously, and Cale nodded with a smile.
When she opened the door, she jumped back and saw Alec about to come in himself, they smiled awkwardly at each other, and one wormed in, while the other wormed out. Sam found himself staring again. It was unbelievable that this person looked so much like Dean. Sure, he had seen the shape shifter, but there had only been one instance where the creature had pretended to indeed be a normal person, and shortly afterwards Sam had then woken up tied to something or other in the sewers.
Even then, in St Louis, Sam had known deep down that the shape shifter wasn’t his brother. He had sensed the evil beneath, whereas now, with Alec...
He didn’t even give Sam the creeps; if anything, he made him feel more confident in finding Dean. As though he had found someone he could truly trust with his brother’s face...
He couldn’t be a Doppelganger; despite the Winchester’s lack of experience in that field, it still held true to the evil-twin phenomena. One was good, the other was not. He had only known Alec for less than an hour, but if he was helping, then how could he be evil? And that would mean his brother was the evil one.
Definitely not a Doppelganger and the subtle difference in looks that made Alec appear younger ruled out any possibilities of being a biological twin.
And how could his father have kept that from them?
Which left...nothing. Sam didn’t have a clue what was going on, and while he was waiting for an explanation, Alec was too.
*-*-*
Twilight is dawning; the crisp evergreen leaves are spread out across the faded blue sky, stemming from the trees’ skeleton branches reaching out. The breeze bristles across the brambles, and in the distance, the last light of the sun is fading into a light yellow, scarcely seen. The buildings of the city are silhouettes in the growing dark. There’s a single white trail of a cloud left behind by the plane making its way across the air. Puffed out smoke from its tail end, fading away into space.
Suddenly it’s blown away, the trail gone, the twilight frozen, the branches stilled, and the breeze gone. The yellow brightens, and the silhouettes of skyscrapers and clock towers turn into blotched ink splatters across a ruined canvas. They loom forward, tower over him. They speak, they have mouths, they are not buildings at all, and you come awake with a start.
“For a transgenic, you sure do take a while to wake up,” White sneered, no longer an ink splatter in front of a brightening sunset, but the villain of the story, moving in and out of the bright light on the ceiling. Dean’s head rolled against his chest, and White grabbed his chin, pulling it forward looking at Dean distastefully.
“...Don’t know what you’re talking about,” Dean mumbled, and White continued to stare. There was something different about 494, he’d admit, or was the lab-made man just getting better at lying? The barcode was gone, but laser surgery might have removed it for a time, and he had been spotted in a few select police stations throughout the back roads of America’s highway towns.
“Well, you’re in luck, because there are tests to determine that much.”
*-*-*
“I don’t have time to answer questions. I have to find Dean--”
“And we’ll help,” Logan said calmly. “But we can’t do that if we don’t know all of the facts, Sam. Like why is Dean Winchester deceased according to the police records?”
To his credit, Sam didn’t even flinch. He had expected this man to have looked his brother up, especially if he was a friend of their father’s.
“He’s dead?” Alec asked, confused.
Sam turned to him, marvelling at the tone, but snapping himself out of it with a mantra that told him this was not Dean.
“We were in St Louis, a friend of mine was being accused of murder, but he hadn’t done it, he wasn’t even there. But security footage said otherwise.”
“He was lying?” Alec voiced.
“No,” Sam said firmly.
“Evil twin?” Max asked carefully, pointedly avoiding Alec’s eyes.
“No, a shape-shifter.”
“A what?” Max echoed.
“It sheds its skin, like a snake, and the new skin is mimicking someone else.”
“These things exist? I mean, even Manticore hasn’t gone that far.”
“Manticore?” Sam asked, “You mean--”
But Logan intercepted quickly, “He mimicked your brother?”
“Yes, but Dean shot it, killed it. Stopped it.”
“Are you sure it was the shape-shifter killed?” Alec asked carefully, almost wearily.
Sam nodded. The thought had crossed his mind several times after the incident. His dreams had morphed horribly from those of a dying girlfriend to the evil what if’s circling his brain. He would smile weakly as his brother helped him up off of the floor away from Becky’s arms, while Dean, his real brother, gasped and gurgled as he bled to death on the living room floor.
“I know my brother. The shape-shifter’s gone, and he’s buried in St Louis.”
“But if they see your brother, he’ll be wanted for murder again?” Max asked, to ensure she’d gotten the gist of the conversation.
“Who isn’t nowadays, huh Maxie?” Alec asked, trying to lighten the situation.
“It’s Max,” she growled, and Sam snorted at the familiarity.
“This is getting ridiculous,” Alec commented, realizing how many of “him,” there were in the world. Technically.
“I know; one of you is bad enough.”
“Oh that hurts, Maxie, it really does.”
“Damn it, Alec!”
“Your father could have mentioned this,” Logan muttered, and Sam’s head shot up.
“You’ve seen him?”
“No, he phoned, that’s how I know about this whole thing.”
“How much did he tell you, exactly?”
Logan stared back at Sam, aware that the younger man was referring to what their family did for a living. “Enough,” he said cryptically, making Max frown behind him.
“Okay, someone wanna clue us in?” Max butted in to the staring stand-off between Logan and Sam, gesturing to herself and Alec. Sam sighed, took a breath and began best he could. There was a lot to cover after all.
*-*-*
His hands were cuffed in front of him, secured to the small pole, and the agents around him ensuredthat the spaces between the vertebrae were as wide as possible. As soon as Dean began to jerk in anticipation of whatever they had planned, three men stepped forward and held him down.
The nurse held the needle in front of Dean, his eye line catching it easily, and as she moved away, he began to pull against the cuffs and away from the men’s arms.
“Hold him still,” she said sternly, well aware that this would earn her pay for the month.
Though, she had expected more from the captive, after White had explained to her all about the transgenics, preferring to tell one medical personnel member rather than an entire staff, and she had expected more of a fight.
She let the needle sink in deep. No anesthetic, no numbing of the area, nothing but the pain, and as Dean’s cry was loud enough to be heard clearly throughout the warehouse of White’s headquarters, Ames made his decision.
“Gag him,” White said coldly, as he heard yet another whimper from his captive. He smiled as the dirty cloth was shoved in the prisoner’s open mouth again and clamped down with the hand of an operative.
*-*-*
“Demons?” Max finally asked, cutting through the silence with a somewhat sceptical view. “Ghosts? What the hell?”
“Look, I explained all of this to you, so feel free to return the favour.”
“Who wants to tell him about White?” Alec asked, moving around the room, somewhat restlessly, but when no one replied, Sam let his impatience get the better of him.
“Who the hell is White?” he asked, anger increasing. “What the hell does he want?”
“Other than every transgenic’s head on a stick you mean?” Max replied coyly.
“What does he want with my brother?” Sam asked through gritted teeth.
“Not your brother,” Alec replied quietly, when no one else would, and feeling the guilt that all of this was his fault, weighing him down. He looked up at Sam, his eyes proving his pain and said, confirming what Sam already suspected, “Me.”
“Maybe we should call your father,” Logan said suddenly, at Sam’s somewhat blank face, after their attempt to explain all that the Winchester didn’t know.
“He won’t come,” Sam said, never raising his head from staring at his hands
“Don’t be so sure, once he knows how much danger your brother’s in--”
“How much danger is Dean in, exactly? This guy--”
“White.”
“Right, he’s the guy in charge of killing all of you...”
“Trangenics.”
“Why?” he asked, desperately.
“People don’t like what they can’t understand,” Max said with a shrug.
“Or control,” Alec added, grimly.
Sam stared at him for a moment. “How enhanced are you? Are you immortal? I mean--is it more than that?” he asked, recalling his own “ability.” “How does Dean fit into all of this? Is he transgenic?”
“No,” Logan cut in. “There’s no barcode, and he was born. The transgenics were created in labs at Manticore.”
“Who picked the company name? ‘Cause in my line of work it’s a beast with the face of a man.”
Max snorted behind him, but kept her silence, allowing Logan to continue his explanation.
“Honestly, I have no idea, about the name, or how this happened. Your brother’s older than Alec, and even though they look the same, they can’t have identical DNA. It’s impossible.”
“And how long until this White guy finds that out?”
“Dean’s been missing what, two days? He could already know.”
“Well, that’s comforting,” Alec quipped miserably.
“Sam, what about your dad?”
“No, not until I know more.”
Logan nodded, though not pleased by the revelation, and turned to Alec and Max.
“Any ideas?” Max asked him, as though waiting for orders.
“Actually, yes. That factory you went to, to rescue the X-5 last week--”
“You think White will still be there?” Alec asked, cynically, clearly showing he doubted the fact.
“Not in the same place, no, but he might be holding up in the same area. It’s worth a look.”
“What are you going to do?” Max asked curiously, following Alec out of the door.
“I’ll check in with Matt Sung, see if anything suspicious has popped up. We can meet back here in the morning,” Logan replied, indicating the dark descending outside. Meanwhile, Sam was standing, waiting for his own orders, but Logan had none.
“What do you mean stay here?” he asked, incredulous at Logan’s notion that he sit-tight.
“White saw you, Sam. It’s better if you stay here. Call your father,” he repeated, though knowing the younger man never would. Sam huffed, crossing his arms, trying to calm himself down at being treated like a child. It was his brother, goddamn it, surely he deserved a say in the matter? Or at least, something to do, a way to help.
He thought back to Max, and how easily she had fought those steelheads, showcasing her strength and agility. He certainly didn’t want to get on the wrong side of her temper, but this was Dean, his brother.
He spotted the computer, now left alone as Logan got up, and followed Max and Alec to the door.
He needed more information, and he’d just found the perfect way to get it.
TBC