DA/SPN Fanfic: Ghosts of the Past (3/11)
Title: Ghosts of the Past
Author: poestheblackcat
Rating: PG-13
Crossover: Dark Angel/Supernatural
Characters/Pairings: Max/Alec-ish, Sam, Dean
Warning/Spoilers: Both Seasons of DA, up to Season 3 finale of SPN
Summary: Seattle 2022. Alec runs into Ben's ghost, or is he simply going crazy like his twin? Alec discovers the world of ghost hunting via supernatural hunters Sam and Dean Winchester.
Disclaimer: All recognizable characters belong to their respective owners.
Ghosts of the Past
Chapter 3
Alec didn’t sleep that night. At 6:00 AM he heard the front door creak open and the sound of soft footsteps. Max. Then he heard some shuffling coming from Joshua’s room. Guess he couldn’t sleep either. Alec groaned into his pillow and rolled over. Might as well get up and get the interrogation over with. He could handle it.
Swinging his legs over the side of his bed, he reflected on what good friends he had. This time two years ago he would never have thought that he would ever have such great friends as Max and Joshua. Or even friends altogether, for that matter. Camaraderie was not encouraged at Manticore. Competition was, though. Alec scowled. And just look where competition got him. Top Manticore soldier his ass. Didn’t keep him out of Psy-Ops when he messed up or when his twin did. Ben. He’d thought all night about Brother Ben. Huh. Thoughts about a guy keeping him up all night. Never thought that’d ever happen either.
Gathering the courage to confront his friends, he pulled on a black shirt (never gray; he hated the color) and sweats and padded out into the small kitchen where Max was making coffee and Joshua was sitting munching on Little Debbie cakes.
Two pairs of concerned eyes snapped up as he strode in and grabbed a mug. “Coffee almost ready yet?”
“Good morning to you, too, sunshine,” Max drawled back. “Bags under your eyes a new look? Gotta say, it doesn’t become you.”
Alec glared at her. But before he could think of anything to retort back with, Joshua interfered. “Alec ready to talk now?”
Alec sighed, running a hand through his dark blond hair. It was getting long. He’d need a haircut soon. “No,” he whined, “but there’s no getting away from it, is there?”
Max yanked out a chair. “Nope. Sit. Talk.”
Alec smirked. “Gee, Maxie. You always did have a way with words. I get all tingly when you take control like that.”
“Alec. Stop stalling.” Alec knew that when she had that look, the serious one, he’d better do what she said or face the consequences.
Sighing, he said, “Okay. Coffee first.” He plopped down in a chair.
Max poured out a piping hot mug of the black beverage for Alec and herself and sat down, tucking back a strand of dark hair that had come loose from the low ponytail to its proper place behind her ear. Joshua put down his glass of milk and looked up with interest. “Now talk,” she demanded.
Alec stared at the cracked mug in his hands and kept his eyes there as he talked. “You know I went to get cigars for Mole yesterday? The guys I got them from weren’t happy with our arrangements, so I split…with the cigars, obviously.” He smirked. “Cuban mob guys are twelve-year-old schoolgirls compared to a cranky cigar-less Mole. So I ducked into this abandoned warehouse or factory or whatever to wait it out, try to lose them.” He stopped. He really didn’t want to keep going.
“What next?” came softly from Joshua, who had stopped eating completely concentrate solely on his friend.
Alec took a deep breath and nodded. “I could sense that I was being watched. Didn’t feel like the mob guys, though. Couldn’t see anything or hear anything out of the ordinary. I just felt something, you know?” He shrugged. “So I snuck around a little, saw some movement that turned out to be me in a mirror. And then I saw-” He stopped and frowned.
“What did you see?” Softly from Max. She had a curious look on her face.
Frightened green eyes rose to meet warm brown ones. “I saw…I saw me, only not the me in the mirror. A second me, in different clothes, different hair. Just standing there, real still, except for this flickering thing he was doing. And he was really pale.” Alec saw the confusion in Max’s eyes. “I know, weird, right?”
“Ben? You think it was his ghost or something?” Her voice was incredulous. “Alec, ghosts aren’t real. Maybe you were hallucinating. Are you coming down with something?”
Alec slammed his mug down, brown liquid sloshing out over the sides, but he didn’t care. He burst out, “No! I know it’s crazy. You think I don’t know that? That’s why I think I’m going psycho and freaking out. I mean, seeing my dead schizo twin brother who I’ve never met would qualify as crazy right? Oh yeah, and I forgot to mention that he said he was going to kill me.” He propped his forehead on his fist and groaned in frustration.
“Alec stressed now. Terminal City busy. Lots work. Maybe need rest?” Joshua tried to calm his friend down.
“Yeah, maybe you’re stressed out. I have been piling a lot on you lately,” Max agreed. “Know what? We should go see Dr. Carr. He’ll probably be able to tell us if something’s wrong, right?”
Alec hesitated. Did he really want some guy telling him he was going crazy? Doctors still gave him the creeps, too, but the worried looks Max and Joshua were wearing were enough to make up his mind. “Yeah. Okay. Fine. Call him.”
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“Well, that was conclusive.” Alec ran his hands through his hair again. That was getting to be a habit when he was stressed. He found himself doing it a lot nowadays.
Max scowled, tossing her long hair behind her shoulder and putting her hands in the pockets of the leather jacket. It was a surprisingly chilly night, especially in this alley. She shivered as a cold burst of air blew at them from the street. “Shut up, Alec.” The streetlamp nearby buzzed and flickered.
They were walking home down a dark alley, on their way home from a visit to Dr. Carr. Alec was walking slightly sideways so he could watch Max’s face as they talked. “Come on, Max. The guy basically told us to give him a call if I start hallucinating again. Yeah. Like that was sooooo helpful.”
Max lectured automatically, “It was really nice of him to fit us into his schedule. He could have just gone home, you know, but he stayed after hours to hear you whine and bitch about seeing things.” Not that she’d ever show it, but Max was really worried about Alec. And she agreed with him that Carr’s un-diagnosis had been a disappointment. Not that she’d ever tell Smart-Alec. She shivered again. It was cold.
“Whine and bitch? You’re the one who wanted me to-” Alec choked and stared past her. He had that look again. That panicked look he had last night and this morning when he was telling her and Joshua about what he thought he’d seen. She turned around and gasped.
“Please tell me you can see him, too.” Alec’s voice sounded odd.
Max could see the pale transparent figure. Ben. “I see him.”
She was cut off before she could say anything else by a pressure at her throat that shoved her against the brick wall of the alley, hitting her head so hard she saw stars. Max saw the same happening to Alec before she was aware that the pressure was turning into squeezing, very hard squeezing. She couldn’t breathe and there was nothing to grasp at, no way to tear the cold fingers from her throat.
“Hey Maxie. Long time no see.” Ben’s voice was eerily calm. Turning to his look-alike-his very alive-and-kicking-very-hard-against-the-brick-wall counterpart-the pale specter said, “And as for you, you ran away before we could talk more, and I could finish my mission.”
“Your…mission?” Alec managed to gasp. Shit. He was starting to see black dots and swirly green…
“Hey Casper! Let them go! No? Alright you asked for it!” Then the pressure eased and he slid down. He heard a thud, a shout of “Dean!” and a loud bang. Shotgun, Alec’s foggy mind registered. Sawed off. Manufactured in the 1980s, probably.
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Sam and Dean Winchester had been at a bar to score some more cash and were now in their 1967 Chevy Impala on their way to find another sleazy, run-down motel to spend the night in. And do research, in Sam’s case. Dean had refused to get rid of his gas-guzzling “baby” even after inflation had raised the price of gas to beyond soaring. Think $4.50 a gallon is expensive? $5.00 gas is apocalyptic? Puh-lease. The Pulse (reputed among those in the know to have been caused by a demon-powered gremlin) had really messed things up, making travel and such for work very difficult. But they managed, with a little less traveling, and some help from old friends and some new enemies. (Note to anyone reading this: Siphoning gas from the car of a hit man is not a very bright idea, as Sam frequently likes to remind Dean.)
So as mentioned above, they were on their way to find somewhere to sleep when Sam spotted something strange out of the window. “Dean! Pull over! I think I saw somebody in trouble in that alley over there!”
Dean complied, with some squealing from the tires of his baby as he braked to a stop (“Sorry baby”), and pulling out his .45 ran over to the alley where his brother was already headed.
Sam turned back. “Ghost. We need the salt guns.”
Dean nodded. “We better hurry then.”
After grabbing the salt guns from the trunk, they ran back to the alley where the ghost, a male from the looks of it, had a man and a woman against the wall by their throats. Although they were struggling hard, their movements were starting to look sluggish.
Cocking his shotgun, Dean shouted, “Hey Casper! Let them go!” Seeing the ghost ignore him, he then said, “No? Alright you asked for it!” before the ghost did turn around, letting go of both his victims and moving his arm towards Dean in a sweeping motion. Dean flew through the air and with a grunt, hit the brick wall hard.
“Dean!” Sam shot at the ghost which dispersed before rushing over to his fallen brother. Dean was lying in a crumpled heap at the base of the wall and wasn’t getting up or stirring. Crap. “You know, bro, we’re getting too old for this stuff.” Checking his brother over for bumps and injuries, especially his head, Sam was vaguely conscious of coughing and murmurings coming from the couple they had just saved.
“Okay. So ghosts are real, right? That whole thing was not just in my head?” the male rasped.
“No. That was Ben all right. The tall guy killed him…again.” The girl seemed shaken but the young man seemed a little relieved. And his voice sounded familiar. Sam would think about that later, though, after making sure Dean was okay.
“Maybe we should check to see if they’re all right.” Steps headed in their direction. Then “Holy shit! Not this guy, too?!”
Sam stood and turned around. And came face to face with Dean. A twenty years younger version of Dean.
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Chapter 4