Fic: Two to Tango (Part 3)
Title: Two To Tango (3/?)
Fandoms: Supernatural/Dollhouse
Rating: PG-13
Characters: Dean Winchester (Tango), Sam Winchester, Castiel, Boyd Langton, OCs
Disclaimer: Eric Kripke and Joss Whedon own the rights, I own nothing.
Summary: Sequel to Obliviate and Tango. Nothing stays buried. It always claws its way back up to bite you in the ass.
Previous parts here
Tom Petty sang about not backing down as Sam drove east alone. Ruby was back at the hotel, sleeping the sleep of the blissfully drugged. Once it might have troubled Sam how good he was getting at that, but tonight he had bigger things to worry about. Ruby would find him, she always did, and he had to make it to Bobby’s before that. Bobby would yell at him, call him ten kinds of idiot, but he would still help Sam figure this out. Not fix things, nothing needed fixing, but Bobby would help him find Dean. He just needed to see his brother. Ruby had said Dean was safe, but Sam wasn’t sure he could take her word for it anymore.
Twenty miles out of Flandreau, AC/DC dissolved into static in the middle of Highway to Hell. Looking right, Sam was almost relieved that it was an angel in the passenger’s seat. “You’re looking for your brother,” Castiel said. It was kind of hard to tell, but there might have been a hint of approval there.
Sam frowned. He didn’t need the angel’s approval. He wasn’t doing this for him. “Why do you even care?” he demanded.
Castiel regarded him unblinkingly for a moment before turning his gaze to the road. “He is needed.”
“Needed? To what? Kill Lilith?” Sam asked with an incredulous laugh. Dean hadn’t had what it took to kill Lilith even before he’d been to hell and back. Maybe with the Colt he would have had a chance, but without it? No, Ruby was right. It had to be Sam. Lilith couldn’t kill him before and he had only gotten stronger.
“Dean began this, it is his to end,” the angel intoned dramatically and Sam resisted the urge to punch him. That wasn’t an answer; it was melodrama. Dean hadn’t been kidding when he said angels were allergic to straight answers.
“Began this? Dean didn’t start this,” Sam reminded the angel, “Lilith did.” Castiel said nothing, just gazed out at the night beyond the windshield and Sam’s hands tightened on the steering wheel. He’d spent enough years dealing with Dad’s need-to-know bullshit, he wasn’t going to take it from some angel. “Look,” he growled, “just cut the cryptic and TELL ME.” He took a deep breath and loosened his grip. “How did Dean begin this? What can you possibly think he did?”
The angel slowly turned to face him as if to emphasize how little he cared about Sam’s anger. “He broke the First Seal,” he said
The words hit Sam like a punch to the gut as his foot slammed on the breaks. The tires skid on the empty road and Castiel practically faceplanted in the dashboard, but Sam didn’t notice. “No,” he whispered, staring blankly ahead. “No,” he shouted, rounding on the angel. “Dean would never...” He knew his brother had broken in hell, who wouldn’t after thirty years of continuous torture. Dean may have tortured the souls of the damned, but he would never have help Lilith. He wouldn’t knowingly betray Sam, betray the whole world, like that. “He would never do that.”
“It was not intentional,” Castiel offered, his face strangely blank yet compassionate. “He was the seal. It broke when he did.”
Anger bubbled in the pit of Sam’s stomach. If that was true, then they had to have known what was going on. Sam had given up everything that mattered in this fight and they could have stopped it before it even got started. They could have gotten off their asses and saved his brother. “You knew,” Sam said, his voice trembling with rage. “You knew what was going on and you just let it happen. You left my brother there and you let her use him to start the god damn apocalypse,” he yelled.
The angel looked away. “We laid siege to hell when we realized what was happening. We battled for years to reach him.” He turned back, eyes level and serious. “We were too late.”
Sam stared searchingly into Castiel’s eyes before guiding the car to the shoulder and turning the engine off. It was too big to wrap his mind around. Somehow Dean had damned the world and now he was supposed to save it? How could they even begin to demand that? Didn’t they understand the man they’d brought back? How broken he was? “You brought him back to end this. How is he supposed to do that?” he asked. “ How is he supposed to kill Lilith?”
“This is not about Lilith,” said Castiel. “ It is about Lucifer.”
“Lucifer?” Sam asked with a hysterical laugh. “If he can’t kill Lilith, how the hell is he supposed to kill Lucifer?” Before Sam had called in Ruby, Dean had been hitting the bottle every night. He’d handled himself alright on hunts but there was no way he could deal with the goddamn Morningstar. Maybe Dean had broken the first seal, but the angels were betting on the wrong Winchester to save the rest.
Castiel shook his head. “Find your brother,” he commanded and was gone. Sam sat for a moment, seething with rage at the angel’s sheer arrogance. Sam wasn’t Catiel’s to command and he wasn’t looking for Dean for them. The angels wanted to use Dean like Lilith had used him, but Sam wasn’t going to let anyone use his brother again. He was going to end this himself, angels, demons and fate be damned. Sam put the car in gear and steered back onto the road. He had work to do.
*****
There was something satisfying in a schadenfreude sort of way finding out that someone else had botched an engagement for a change, Boyd thought as he looked at Mack. The man leaned over the railing, pinching the bridge of his nose like he had a headache. From where he stood, Boyd could see the new strands of silver amidst the red of the other man’s hair. The stress of this job might be turning Boyd’s hair grey but it was definitely turning Mack’s pink.
“I heard your engagement was, ah, eventful,” he greeted the other man.
Mack turned, his hand dropping from his face as his lips twisting in a rueful smirk. “That’s one way of putting it,” he said with a snort. “The client got killed. It’s amazing I still have a job.”
“We’re not paid to take care of the client,” Boyd reminded him. “We’re here for them,” he said, gesturing to the Dolls on the floor below. His Echo was sharing a picture-book with Sierra on one of the couches just beneath them. Across the room by the treadmills, Mack’s Tango was kneeling to help Kilo where the other Doll had apparently fallen.
Mack nodded, raking his hand through his hair. “Do you ever wonder about them?” he asked. “Where they come from?”
He wouldn’t have believed it when he first came, but somehow Echo had wormed her way into Boyd’s heart. He cared for her almost like a daughter, of course he wondered if there was someone else out there who felt the same way, someone who was looking for their little girl. Echo was kind and protective, even in her Doll state and almost always no matter who she was programed to be. Was that who she had been? “Sometimes,” Boyd admitted, coughing slightly to clear the lump in his throat. “Why do you ask?”
Mack frowned slightly, his gaze fixed on where his Tango was trying to pull Kilo to his feet. “When the mugger shot the client, Tango, he”-the man paused, struggling to find the right words-“he got this look on his face.”
“Look?” Boyd repeated.
“Yeah,” Mack nodded. “Like he was gonna kill the son of a bitch. And the shooter”-he shook his head-“he just laughed. Said Tango wasn’t him any more.” Mack took a deep breath and turned, leaning against the railing, to face Boyd. “Do you think he knew Tango, or whoever Tango was, from before?”
Boyd drew a sharp breath. It was one thing to think about Echo’s parents on occasion, but actually running into someone from an Active’s past could be a real problem. Especially someone who knew they had been erased. “Are you sure he wasn’t some Tango had dealings with on a previous engagement?”
“I don’t know,” Mack sighed. “I just”-he broke off-“I know how must of us got into this business, but I don’t know about them. Who knows where they get these people from? What if Alpha wasn’t some composite-event fluke? What if that’s who they are?”
Below them, Echo looked up from her book with a vaguely concerned expression as Tango helped his limping friend to Dr. Saunders’ office. Boyd didn’t know where she was from, but he knew who his girl was. “Did you talk about it with Dominic and DeWitt?” he asked.
Mack’s lips twisted in an expression of cynical disgust. “They said not to worry. It was already taken care of.” He didn’t sound especially comforted.
Boyd nodded. He wouldn’t trust them either. After all, they said the same thing about Alpha.
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Fandoms: Supernatural/Dollhouse
Rating: PG-13
Characters: Dean Winchester (Tango), Sam Winchester, Castiel, Boyd Langton, OCs
Disclaimer: Eric Kripke and Joss Whedon own the rights, I own nothing.
Summary: Sequel to Obliviate and Tango. Nothing stays buried. It always claws its way back up to bite you in the ass.
Previous parts here
Tom Petty sang about not backing down as Sam drove east alone. Ruby was back at the hotel, sleeping the sleep of the blissfully drugged. Once it might have troubled Sam how good he was getting at that, but tonight he had bigger things to worry about. Ruby would find him, she always did, and he had to make it to Bobby’s before that. Bobby would yell at him, call him ten kinds of idiot, but he would still help Sam figure this out. Not fix things, nothing needed fixing, but Bobby would help him find Dean. He just needed to see his brother. Ruby had said Dean was safe, but Sam wasn’t sure he could take her word for it anymore.
Twenty miles out of Flandreau, AC/DC dissolved into static in the middle of Highway to Hell. Looking right, Sam was almost relieved that it was an angel in the passenger’s seat. “You’re looking for your brother,” Castiel said. It was kind of hard to tell, but there might have been a hint of approval there.
Sam frowned. He didn’t need the angel’s approval. He wasn’t doing this for him. “Why do you even care?” he demanded.
Castiel regarded him unblinkingly for a moment before turning his gaze to the road. “He is needed.”
“Needed? To what? Kill Lilith?” Sam asked with an incredulous laugh. Dean hadn’t had what it took to kill Lilith even before he’d been to hell and back. Maybe with the Colt he would have had a chance, but without it? No, Ruby was right. It had to be Sam. Lilith couldn’t kill him before and he had only gotten stronger.
“Dean began this, it is his to end,” the angel intoned dramatically and Sam resisted the urge to punch him. That wasn’t an answer; it was melodrama. Dean hadn’t been kidding when he said angels were allergic to straight answers.
“Began this? Dean didn’t start this,” Sam reminded the angel, “Lilith did.” Castiel said nothing, just gazed out at the night beyond the windshield and Sam’s hands tightened on the steering wheel. He’d spent enough years dealing with Dad’s need-to-know bullshit, he wasn’t going to take it from some angel. “Look,” he growled, “just cut the cryptic and TELL ME.” He took a deep breath and loosened his grip. “How did Dean begin this? What can you possibly think he did?”
The angel slowly turned to face him as if to emphasize how little he cared about Sam’s anger. “He broke the First Seal,” he said
The words hit Sam like a punch to the gut as his foot slammed on the breaks. The tires skid on the empty road and Castiel practically faceplanted in the dashboard, but Sam didn’t notice. “No,” he whispered, staring blankly ahead. “No,” he shouted, rounding on the angel. “Dean would never...” He knew his brother had broken in hell, who wouldn’t after thirty years of continuous torture. Dean may have tortured the souls of the damned, but he would never have help Lilith. He wouldn’t knowingly betray Sam, betray the whole world, like that. “He would never do that.”
“It was not intentional,” Castiel offered, his face strangely blank yet compassionate. “He was the seal. It broke when he did.”
Anger bubbled in the pit of Sam’s stomach. If that was true, then they had to have known what was going on. Sam had given up everything that mattered in this fight and they could have stopped it before it even got started. They could have gotten off their asses and saved his brother. “You knew,” Sam said, his voice trembling with rage. “You knew what was going on and you just let it happen. You left my brother there and you let her use him to start the god damn apocalypse,” he yelled.
The angel looked away. “We laid siege to hell when we realized what was happening. We battled for years to reach him.” He turned back, eyes level and serious. “We were too late.”
Sam stared searchingly into Castiel’s eyes before guiding the car to the shoulder and turning the engine off. It was too big to wrap his mind around. Somehow Dean had damned the world and now he was supposed to save it? How could they even begin to demand that? Didn’t they understand the man they’d brought back? How broken he was? “You brought him back to end this. How is he supposed to do that?” he asked. “ How is he supposed to kill Lilith?”
“This is not about Lilith,” said Castiel. “ It is about Lucifer.”
“Lucifer?” Sam asked with a hysterical laugh. “If he can’t kill Lilith, how the hell is he supposed to kill Lucifer?” Before Sam had called in Ruby, Dean had been hitting the bottle every night. He’d handled himself alright on hunts but there was no way he could deal with the goddamn Morningstar. Maybe Dean had broken the first seal, but the angels were betting on the wrong Winchester to save the rest.
Castiel shook his head. “Find your brother,” he commanded and was gone. Sam sat for a moment, seething with rage at the angel’s sheer arrogance. Sam wasn’t Catiel’s to command and he wasn’t looking for Dean for them. The angels wanted to use Dean like Lilith had used him, but Sam wasn’t going to let anyone use his brother again. He was going to end this himself, angels, demons and fate be damned. Sam put the car in gear and steered back onto the road. He had work to do.
*****
There was something satisfying in a schadenfreude sort of way finding out that someone else had botched an engagement for a change, Boyd thought as he looked at Mack. The man leaned over the railing, pinching the bridge of his nose like he had a headache. From where he stood, Boyd could see the new strands of silver amidst the red of the other man’s hair. The stress of this job might be turning Boyd’s hair grey but it was definitely turning Mack’s pink.
“I heard your engagement was, ah, eventful,” he greeted the other man.
Mack turned, his hand dropping from his face as his lips twisting in a rueful smirk. “That’s one way of putting it,” he said with a snort. “The client got killed. It’s amazing I still have a job.”
“We’re not paid to take care of the client,” Boyd reminded him. “We’re here for them,” he said, gesturing to the Dolls on the floor below. His Echo was sharing a picture-book with Sierra on one of the couches just beneath them. Across the room by the treadmills, Mack’s Tango was kneeling to help Kilo where the other Doll had apparently fallen.
Mack nodded, raking his hand through his hair. “Do you ever wonder about them?” he asked. “Where they come from?”
He wouldn’t have believed it when he first came, but somehow Echo had wormed her way into Boyd’s heart. He cared for her almost like a daughter, of course he wondered if there was someone else out there who felt the same way, someone who was looking for their little girl. Echo was kind and protective, even in her Doll state and almost always no matter who she was programed to be. Was that who she had been? “Sometimes,” Boyd admitted, coughing slightly to clear the lump in his throat. “Why do you ask?”
Mack frowned slightly, his gaze fixed on where his Tango was trying to pull Kilo to his feet. “When the mugger shot the client, Tango, he”-the man paused, struggling to find the right words-“he got this look on his face.”
“Look?” Boyd repeated.
“Yeah,” Mack nodded. “Like he was gonna kill the son of a bitch. And the shooter”-he shook his head-“he just laughed. Said Tango wasn’t him any more.” Mack took a deep breath and turned, leaning against the railing, to face Boyd. “Do you think he knew Tango, or whoever Tango was, from before?”
Boyd drew a sharp breath. It was one thing to think about Echo’s parents on occasion, but actually running into someone from an Active’s past could be a real problem. Especially someone who knew they had been erased. “Are you sure he wasn’t some Tango had dealings with on a previous engagement?”
“I don’t know,” Mack sighed. “I just”-he broke off-“I know how must of us got into this business, but I don’t know about them. Who knows where they get these people from? What if Alpha wasn’t some composite-event fluke? What if that’s who they are?”
Below them, Echo looked up from her book with a vaguely concerned expression as Tango helped his limping friend to Dr. Saunders’ office. Boyd didn’t know where she was from, but he knew who his girl was. “Did you talk about it with Dominic and DeWitt?” he asked.
Mack’s lips twisted in an expression of cynical disgust. “They said not to worry. It was already taken care of.” He didn’t sound especially comforted.
Boyd nodded. He wouldn’t trust them either. After all, they said the same thing about Alpha.
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