OOC: Agents of Fortune time kids and kittens.
Title: Agents of Fortune: Chapter 12
Author: Karasu Yurei
Fandom: Supernatural/Dark Angel
Rateing: PG 13
Spoilers: Yes. Seriously, vague and not so vague spoiler for both series though wildly AU from both. Take that however you want. And also for the Dark Angel written cannon.
Disclaimer: If I owned them Sam and Dean would be hugging more often, or at all.
Warning: Medical. Seizures. Winchesters in a vehicle other than the sacred Impala.
Author's note of DOOM. I seriously mean it this time.
This and the next few chapters are a finely crafted blend of heavy research, medical fact, and utter bullshit. I'm good at it, I swear. I used to write papers like this all the time for college. I even got A's on them.
Medical facts. Phenobarbital really is first line treatment for cats. Though epilepsy is very rare in cats. Valium is a valid anti-convulsant.
A person really can have continuous seizures. It is, obviously, bad news. The kind of seizures Alec is having are real, (Even in DA they were real. I was a little stunned to find that out.) though the severity is exaggerated. And they are rare. But hey, genetically engineered cat people. What are you going to do?
Medical screw ups/myths. Never try to restrain someone having a seizure. Someone will get hurt. There are circumstances in the fic. But still. If there is a hand book, this is not in it. Also, grand mal is an outdated term, but it's one people know, so I used it anyway.
Stay tuned for more medical facts in future author's notes written by a chick that is not a medical professional. But I work for one. Counts for something, right?
Also, hey, I think this is some sort of record for shortest time between chapters. Go me!
Chapter 12
It only took Sam two steps to cross the bathroom floor and drop to his knees next to Alec. He managed to get an arm around Alec's shoulders before another spasm caused him to hit his head against the wall. He could feel the heavy bandages padding Alec's wounded shoulder pressing against his arm. Seizures, muscle damage, and broken bones were a bad combination. Seizures were pretty much guaranteed to make anything bad.
Alec looked over at Sam unsteadily. "Thanks," he said, and that was all he had time to say before his entire body jerked again, and he nearly kicked Sam, who was still more or less in front of him.
"DEAN!" Sam had an impressive bellow when he put his mind to it. He pulled Alec away from the wall and then sat behind him to keep him upright and from hitting anything else hard. Clearly his own bony chest didn't count.
Dean bolted up from his chair in the kitchen so fast that he knocked it over, and he was already at the stairs before it hit the floor. He had his gun drawn when he reached the top. "Sammy?" He edged his way along the wall, not sure what he was facing, but it had to be mean if it had gotten past Bobby's defenses.
"In the bathroom. Grab a pillow."
Dean thought he must have heard Sam wrong. He was much more used to hearing things like ‘grab the salt', or ‘grab the shotgun.' Or the one notable occasion when things had gone really off the rails and their father had told them ‘grab your ankles and kiss your ass goodbye.' "Grab a pillow' threw him, and as he cleared the bathroom door, he just blinked for a moment as he tried to comprehend what he was seeing. Sam and Alec were both sitting on the floor. Sam had Alec pulled up against him, and his arms were wrapped around Alec, clearly trying to restrain him. Sam winced as one of Alec's elbows caught him hard, and he almost lost his grip. Alec was a lot stronger than the average person.
"Dean!" His attention leaped back to Sam's face when he heard his name. "Go get some pillows before he gives himself a concussion, breaks my ribs, or fucks up his shoulder." Never let it be said that Sammy didn't have a clear head in a crisis.
Dean nodded once and then went to get what Sam had asked for, replacing the gun in the back of his jeans. He came back with all three pillows from their room. He laid one down in the middle of the floor and then reached out to help Sam lay Alec down on his side, head safely on the pillow, right shoulder to the floor. He laid the other two against the wall in case they needed them. After another minute or so, Alec relaxed.
"When did this start?" Dean asked Sam, but it was Alec that answered.
"Hour ago." Alec was surprised he had the energy to talk. Right now he felt like utter crap, but he was still thinking straight. Amazingly. Sam and Dean seemed surprised he was coherent at all.
"Shit," Sam said, with heartfelt vehemence. "Has this ever happened before?"
"Yeah."
"Do you have medication?" Dean was hoped the answer was yes so he could solve this by cramming it down the kid's throat and then smacking him for not taking it.
"Ran out." Alec reasoned that this explanation would piss them off less than admitting that they had booked it out of Manticore without any at all.
"And you didn't tell us you have fucking epilepsy?" Dean barked. "Christ, I'm calling an ambulance." He started to stand when Alec's hand caught hold of his wrist. Even having seizures, Alec was freakishly fast.
"No. Colonel Lydecker'll find me. Find you an' Sam."
"Kiddo, you've been having seizures for over an hour and you have no medication. You need a doctor." Dean had a fair amount of medical training. He could set simple breaks, stitch wounds, sometimes even remove bullets: Alec was living proof. He knew what to do with minor infections and fever and pain, but seizures were beyond him and Sam, and he was willing to bet cash money they were beyond Bobby, too.
"No. Please." Alec's hand tightened painfully around Dean's wrist, and the X5 shuddered violently. "Renfro'll take me apart. Parts." He managed to look up at Dean, fear clear in his eyes. Exhaustion was making it impossible to hide his emotions like he normally would.
Dean pried his wrist free before Alec accidentally broke it, then helped Sam try to hold him steady as the next seizure really took hold. All three of them knew that the best they could hope for was that Alec didn't hurt himself, because Dean had tangled with the kid's friends. They couldn't hold him. "Call Bobby," Sam told him. "I know a doctor that might be able to help, but he's in Palo Alto. Bobby might have an idea in the meantime."
"You call Bobby," Dean replied, as he did his damnedest to pin Alec's arms and try to protect the broken bone that had to be taking an even worse beating than the rest of his body. "You aren't strong enough right now to hold him for more than a second." After a moment, Sam nodded. Now was not the time to be arguing with Dean over the state of his health.
Alec looked like he wanted to protest, but it was beyond him. "I'll be back in a sec." Sam stood and went back into their room, grabbed his cell phone off the nightstand, and scrolled to Bobby's number at the garage as he went back to Dean and Alec. The X5 was a mess. He looked afraid, hurt, and exhausted and those were just not expressions that Sam was used to seeing on Dean's face. No matter who was wearing that face. Even though he had two years on Sam, right now the newest Winchester looked younger than him.
After a long pause, Sam replied to whatever Bobby's opening comment had been with, "I'd rather deal with a demon, Bobby, any day." Sam paused to listen to the older man speak. Then: "Alec's having seizures and has been for over an hour, he says." There was another pause while Sam held the phone away from his ear for a few seconds with a wince. It didn't take long for Bobby to wind down. "No, we just found out. We can't call 911." Another pause. "Because he asked us not to. Bobby, he's not entirely human, remember?" A longer pause. "Thanks, Bobby." Sam hung up. "He's on his way. He'll be here in six minutes." He slipped the phone into his back pocket as he knelt down in front of Alec.
Dean had settled right behind Alec's shoulders, which he quickly grabbed as Alec jerked forward, towards the wall. "Whoa, let's keep your head away from the wall, shall we?" Sam saw the wince as pressure was applied to the bullet wound, and Dean's answering wince of sympathy.
A couple of minutes later, the seizure seemed to pass, or at least allowed Alec to relax a little. "Some genetic enhancement, huh?" he quipped, as he tried to catch his breath. He started to roll so he was laying more on his back than his side. Sam handed Dean one of the spare pillows to put under Alec's shoulder. Alec looked at both of them looking down at him in concern. With Sam the expression didn't seem that foreign; while he knew already that Sam could act like an Oscar winner, he wasn't the sort hide his emotions. Dean was a different story, though, and while he had seen this look directed at Sam right after they escaped, he had never thought he would see it turned on him. He hadn't actually thought they would adopt him into the family the way Dean had said they would. "You're hovering like grannies." His voice sounded weak to his own ears. He noticed that neither had pulled their hands away, even though he wasn't shaking at the moment. He felt absurdly grateful.
"Bobby'll be pissed if you put a hole in his wall." Dean could always be trusted for a smart ass comment. He was starting to think he had come by his attitude problem honestly.
Alec closed his eyes as another tremor started. "Tired, hurts." He let Sam roll him onto his side again, in as close to recovery position as Sam could get him while he was convulsing the way he was. Sam and Dean shared a worried look over Alec's shaking form. "Do you know what the medication was?" Sam asked, hoping, praying that this was as simple as swiping a prescription pad and hustling cards or pool for the money to get the meds. "Don't know." Alec sounded miserable. "Just took them. Orders." Sam assumed that this meant that Alec just took them as he was told to. He didn't like that Alec would blindly take orders. He hated it when Dean did it, too.
Just then they heard the back door bang open hard. "Bobby? That you, man?" Dean called out, one hand going to his gun, feeling that paranoia was justified with one of them down and defenseless and the other weak as a kitten even if the bitch wouldn't admit it. He honestly wasn't sure which brother he would match with which description, and that was just sad."Yeah, I'll be up in a sec." Bobby sounded breathless, obviously having rushed back from the garage. A moment later, they heard Bobby climb the stairs, and Dean took his hand away from his gun when the older man cam into view toting a large tool box. Sam assumed that the tool box was Bobby's med. kit. A lot of hunters used them for that purpose, including Sam and Dean. In fact, they had picked up the trick from Bobby. Tool boxes made sure things stayed well organized and easy to find. Saving time could save a life. Sam shifted to make room for Bobby to crouch down next to him. It was getting damned crowded in the small bathroom with four full grown men, three of whom topped six feet. "Has he lost consciousness or is he having any trouble breathing?" Bobby asked as he unlatched the lid to the kit.
"No," Alec ground out before Sam could reply. Bobby watched as the brothers had trouble keeping Alec effectively immobile. He was going to be a hurting puppy when this was over.
"I know that sometimes sedating someone can stop a seizure. Do you want me to try that? I have the stuff for that." Bobby watched the kid jerk and shudder, and the worried but hopeful looks on Dean and Sam's faces. He also saw a flash of fear cross Alec's eyes, and he didn't think it was the seizure putting it there. Dean worried at his bottom lip a little.
"Yeah," Alec finally replied after a long moment. "Out. Sleep," he added, just to make sure they understood. The concept of being sedated scared the ever-living fuck out of him, but the thought of having a full grand mal seizure scared him just a little bit more. He knew that was what would happen if he tried to ride this out. Bobby looked up to get an agreement from either of the Winchesters, wanting to be sure that Alec was mentally competent enough to make a choice like that. Sam nodded agreement.
"You allergic to anything, kid?" Bobby pulled out a vial of medication and a syringe, which he uncapped with his teeth.
"Yes, sir." The tension started to drain out of him again for a moment or two, allowing him to get a look at the bottle Bobby was holding. "But not that." He watched Bobby draw up the medication with remarkably clear eyes. Bobby had seen that look on dogs that were waiting to be hit. They would stand still for it, but that didn't mean that it didn't frighten them.
"I have to warn ya that this might not work. Or even if it does, you might start having seizures again when you wake up. You understand?" He tore open an alcohol wipe, but waited for Alec to reply before moving any closer.
"Yes, sir." Seeing the syringe made him remember his times is Psy-Ops and Med Lab. As his nerves started to key up with instinctual fear, he fell back to his old habit of addressing people in positions of authority.
Bobby watched the kid tense up at the sight of the needle, so he made sure to keep his movements slow, not wanting to startle him. He could already see the hand shaped bruise starting to show on Dean's wrist. This was not a kid he wanted to mess with. "I'm not going to hurt you any." His voice dropped to the gentler tone he had used with the boys when John used to leave them with him when they were younger. He reached out to swab of a small patch of skin on Alec's arm and paused as he felt the heat coming off of him. "Shit, you're burning up."
"He's starting to shake again, so you might want to get that into him," Dean said. Bobby looked over and saw that Dean was moving a hand through Alec's hair, obviously trying to calm him. The motion was slow and steady, with his fingers crooked like he was petting a cat.
Bobby nodded. "This may burn a little going in, but it should help you out in just a few minutes." With that, Bobby stuck him with the needle, trusting Sam to keep the kid from decking him, though in all honesty Sam was not in the best of health either. When he was done, he recapped the syringe and tossed it into the tub, out of their way, and rubbed at Alec's arm to get the medication moving. Alec flinched when he made contact, and Bobby wasn't sure if it was the seizure or an aversion to touch. Given the way the kid had tracked the needle like a frightened animal, Bobby was going to guess option number two. "I just gave you a good sized dose of benzodiazapine, Valium; it'll take a few minutes to take effect." Bobby moved back, and he could already see Alec's seizure start to worsen. "When it does, we're going to move you somewhere more comfortable than the bathroom floor. It's kinda crowded in here." He closed up the med kit and sat back to wait. "If he's got a fever, we should try to do something about it."
"Cat," Alec tried to explain, but it was hard with his jaw clenching and his air limited.Sam was the one who caught on first. "Cats have a higher normal body temperature than humans. Is that it?" He looked down at Alec, who nodded a little.
Bobby sighed. "You Winchesters know how to get yourselves into some damned interesting fixes." He felt like a broken record, but it was either repeat himself in a sort of resigned and amused despair for all the trouble they caused him, or throw them out on their asses. He was getting too old for option B. He had to save it all for their father. "Don't suppose he gave you any sort of medical history?"
"Just that this has happened before and that he ran out of medication."
"Yeah, clearly. I'm going to go see if I can find a pill bottle. Call if he gets any worse. The meds should kick in after another five minutes or so." With that, Bobby stood and headed off.
"You said you knew a doctor, Sam?" Dean looked up at his youngest brother, then back down as he felt Alec move deliberately to look up at him. "You don't get to argue, Alec. You heard Bobby. This is a temporary solution at best."
"He's a resident at the Stanford Hospital. He saved my ass from the cops once. Recognized my name. His mom's a hunter. He'll keep things quiet."
"You sure, Sammy? Just because his mom's a hunter doesn't mean you can trust him with this. An X5 might be a little much on the weird side." He knew Alec was still awake and listening, but figured the kid had a right to hear what they were talking about.
Sam shook his head, even as he tightened his grip on Alec. "She's also a werewolf." He caught Dean's startled look. "Yeah, that caught me off guard too. He understands weird, even by hunter standards and he understands family even if it isn't entirely human."
Alec was finally starting to relax, and he could tell it wasn't just the slight reprieve between convulsions, but an actual break in them. His body was finally allowing him to drift towards sleep. "Family?" He was also starting to feel sappy, which sure as hell wasn't normal. Must be the damned drugs.
"Yeah. That's what we said, Little Toaster," was Dean's short reply. "Now go to sleep. You're starting to act all girly like Sam."
"Hey!" Sam protested. "That was uncalled for."
"Just calling it like I see it, Sammy."
"It's Sam."
"Whatever."
Alec drifted off, listening to them bicker back and forth. He wasn't exactly asleep, but he certainly wasn't awake. He wondered in a distant way if he wanted to be part of this family. He might have to listen to them bicker all the time then. He could feel himself shudder again, but it was much less violent now. He still ached like he had just gotten the worst beating of his life, and his shoulder felt like someone had jammed a hot poker into it, but strangely that didn't worry him much either. He couldn't really recall anyone ever being this nice to him, or comforting him when he was injured before. His sibs were never allowed in the med lab to visit him. That was sort of sick when he really thought about it.
He heard Bobby come back and talk to Sam and Dean, but he was having trouble caring about what they were talking about. Then someone was scooping him up off the floor, which was new and interesting. It would have been completely unacceptable had he been awake enough to protest.
"He weighs a damned ton."
"You want some help there, Dean?"
"No, just get out of the way before I drop him. Or I'll make you carry him out to the car later."
Sam did not sound pleased with this, but then Alec was deposited on a mattress with a slight bounce and pillows were put back under his head and shoulder. After that, his body gave in to the exhaustion.
XXXXX
Sam, Dean, and Bobby sat for a quiet moment or two, watching Alec as the heavy shudders turned to shivers and then stopped altogether.
It was Bobby who finally broke the silence. "I knew that perfect soldier crap was to good to be true."
"Hey, he didn't tell us he was freakin' epileptic. I thought we were getting something top of the line," was the only defense that Dean could think of. He had to admit, if only to himself, that it was a pretty sad one.
"He says this like he would have left him behind if he'd known," Sam replied with amusement. "Did you find anything in his bag? A pill bottle or something?" he asked Bobby hopefully.
"Zip. Nothing but what your brother's bought for him in the past few days." Bobby shook his head. "Which means he lied to you, unless he has a pill bottle on him. He didn't run out."
"He didn't have anything with him." Dean finished Bobby's thought.
"Yeah."
"Why the hell didn't he bring something with him if he knew he needed it?" Sam asked, clearly bewildered.
"Because I think he was running scared." Dean didn't bother to elaborate. "How long will what you shot him up with last?"
"It's hard to say, but the most we'll get is two hours. If he was taking steady medication for these seizures, then he's going to need a doctor. Maybe a hospital. We all know that for shit like this, you should call in the professionals. Especially since he doesn't know what he was taking. I know seizure medication is tricky stuff sometimes."
"Sam, you had better call that doc you know," Dean said. "And we had better all hope we can trust him." Bobby gave them a questioning look, but Sam was already pulling his phone from his pocket. He flipped it open and scrolled until he found the right number, then hit send. It only took a couple of rings for Collin to pick up.
"Hey, dude, it's Sam Winchester . . . yeah, I know I've been gone longer than I said I'd be. It's a long fucking story, man. I'll tell you later." Sam paused, listening, smiling a little at whatever his friend was saying. "I'm okay," Sam said, and ignored Dean's snort of disagreement, "but I need a world class favor . . . . more than buying the beer, man, like buying steak dinners for you mom's entire pack big." Another pause, but with no smiling this time. "Yeah, I'm dead serious."
Sam began to pace in the small confines of the room. "This guy, Alec, he's my brother. He's having seizures . . . pretty bad, on and off for at least an hour, mostly on. He takes medication, but he doesn't know what it is and we can't get any more. He ran out a couple of days ago . . . he's stopped now. Bobby doped him up with some Valium . . . he was thinking clearly the entire time, I think . . . he said he was tired, and hurt, but he made a few smart ass comments, so I'm pretty sure he was up to speed there . . . yeah, we know we need to bring him to a hospital, that's why I called you. This is where things get really weird. He's, ah . . . hell, he's a genetically engineered super soldier." Sam paused in his pacing. "Does it sound like I'm joking?" Sam's voice was tight and low. "Okay, sorry, I'm just tense, he's a mess right now, and it's kinda hard to watch. But everything about him needs to be kept quiet." He listened for a long moment. "We can be there by this time tomorrow." There was a long pause this time, then: "I can't even begin to thank you." There was a long pause, as Sam listened. "See you tomorrow, man." Then he ended the call.
"Who the hell are you spilling all of this to, kid?" Bobby immediately demanded.
"Collin's a resident at the Stanford Hospital. There was this thing with a mugging and a stabbing and me carrying concealed . . . anyway, we got to be friends. His mom's a hunter."
"Yeah, but, dude, you said she was a werewolf," Dean interjected.
"Can't both be true?"
"No!" Bobby and Dean answered together.
"Tough, because she is." Sam started packing up their few belongings. "She was attacked, and her husband, Collin's father, was killed. She was turned and hunted down the monster that killed her husband and put an end to it. Werewolves don't have to be monsters. Most aren't. Most of the time we don't even know they're around."
"And let me just say that that is so uncool!" Dean interrupted.
"Yeah, whatever, dude. We can talk about this shit later. Right now we have a twenty-four hour drive to make."
Dean watched Sam for a moment. "You really think we can trust him, Sam?" It was an honest question, one he wanted Sam to stop and put real thought into. Sam knew that tone. When he was a kid, he had called it Dean's ‘important stuff' voice. It often came after arguments with their father. "Because we aren't just talking about some medication or a run-in with some cops, which you'll have to tell me about by the way, but our lives. These Manticore freaks are still after you and Alec, I'm sure. And it'll be damned hard for us to hide on a college campus. You have friends there, friends you could lose because they'll be curious. I know you weren't big on sharing."
Bobby watched as Sam stilled, calmed. John would have had to work a miracle to get the same effect. Bobby never doubted that John loved his boys, but it was times like this that a person could see who had done the emotional raising of Sam Winchester.
"I trust him," Sam finally said. "And we can try to dodge my friends, the people that know me. If it doesn't work, I'll just have to deal with the consequences. Family comes before everything else. First rule of being a Winchester. Dad turned his back on me. Not the other way around. And don't tell me I'm wrong, because I don't want to hear it right now." Sam's voice was hard as he spoke of their father. But then he sighed, because that wasn't the issue right now. "Strategically, it has some high points. One, I bet they're hoping we'll panic and take him to an ER or a clinic, because they had to know that this would happen. It was like putting a leash on us. Collin will keep this below the radar. Two, we can't hide like we can here, but we can surround ourselves with people. It's a college campus; there's really no such thing as dead of the night. No sneak attacks, and even if they could get that close, I'm sure we can create enough of a ruckus to draw a lot of unwanted witnesses. Three, it's such a stupid thing to do that no military mind worth anything would come up with it."
"Can't argue with that one, little brother."
"The closer we are to danger, the farther we are from harm. Now pack."
"You are such a geek brain."
"You recognized the quote." He stared at Dean until he got up and started to toss things into his bag. Then turned to Bobby. "Could we take that Valium with us? Why do you even have it?"
"I hate hysterical survivors?" Bobby suggested. Which was true. He specialized in demons and possessions; sometimes the kindest thing you could do for survivors was drug them into resting for a day or so.
"Uh huh. Collin said we may have to use it again."
"He did? What else did he say?" Dean asked as he finished up.
"Just that we should give him more if any of the seizures last more than five minutes, if he had trouble breathing, or if they start being continuous like they were this morning. Other than that, to just let them happen. It's safer than messing with drugs."
"Sounds kinda heartless." Dean paused after picking up Alec's boots, looked over at Alec's bare feet, and then fished a pair of his socks out of his bag. He made a face and then crouched by Alec's feet, tugging socks and then his boots onto them. "Y'know, I thought I was done with this when you learned how to dress yourself, Sammy," he grumbled, motions practiced.
"You like playing big brother; don't think you're fooling anyone, Dean." Bobby stood. "C'mon, Sam we can get the medication, and I've got a couple of books to send with you."
"Guys," Dean said, looking over his shoulder at Bobby and Sam. "In case you don't remember, we don't have a car." He was holding one of Alec's military issue boots. Exactly the same as the ones he was now wearing himself except more worn, better broken in. "She's in the back of a U-haul with holes in her. And I know she still runs, but she's got nothing left to hide us with."
Bobby took his hat off and scratched his forehead for a second, then slapped the hat back on. "I got something for you to use. It's isn't a hunter's set of wheels, but it'll get you where you need to go." He watched Sam and Dean look at each other like they had just been asked to leave a family member behind. He guessed that, in a way, they had. John had once let it slip that the car had been Mary's, which would explain the love John had treated it with, even in the beginning. The Impala was the only home Sam had ever really known. "I'll take care of her. Get the windows replaced and the bullet hole taken care of. Then I'll get her shipped out to you. That sound okay?"
After a moment, Dean nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, that'll be okay."
"Let's go get you those books, Sam."
"Bobby, you don't have . . ."
"Shut up, kid. It's a loan, so you had best bring them back."
"Sure," Sam said with a grin. Hunters always seemed to have emotional communication problems. He was used to it.
As they left, Dean settled his weight back on his heels and left his elbows on his knees. "Dad's gonna kill me," he muttered to his unconscious new brother. "And I don't know whether it's going to be for adopting you into our fucked up little family, since, let's face it, I've known you for like maybe a week. Or for letting Sammy out of hiding, for getting the Impala shot up or . . . shit, he's gonna rip me a new one." He remained there, quiet for a few moments, and then Sam came back in with the vial of medication and a couple of well-worn leather-bound books which he tucked into his laptop bag. The vial went into his pants pocket.
"You ready? Bobby said he'd help carry our bags out to the car, and that'll leave you to move Alec." Sam began gathering up their bags. He grabbed all of his own and one of Dean's, leaving Bobby to get the last two bags plus a blanket and pillow. There was an expectant pause as Bobby and Dean waited for him to tip over under the weight. He rolled his eyes at them and hauled the stuff out.
"Yeah, I'm good." Dean scooped Alec up off the mattress. "Let me go first." He headed towards the door with a fairly steady stride, and didn't even pause as Alec started to rouse. The kid was too well trained to not at least attempt to assess whatever situation was happening to make someone carry him. "Dude," Dean looked down as Alec's bleary eyes opened and blinked, "go back to sleep, I won't drop you." Dean kept moving. Alec really had no choice but to comply.
Dean nearly backed up when Bobby stopped in front of a mini-van. "Bobby? Do I look like a soccer mom?"
"You will if you give me any more lip," Bobby retorted. "It runs; that's all you need to worry about right now."
"Right." Sometimes even a Winchester knew when to lay down arms. Soon they had Alec laying across one of the back seats under a blanket and all their bags except the laptop bag stowed on the other. Dean and Bobby took a few minutes to get the first aid kit and a couple of bags of the important things from the weapons locker. Sam had produced a zip-lock bag, most likely stolen from Bobby, and wrote Alec's name on it. Into it, he dropped four syringes and the vial of medication.
"Well, now we have to keep him, since you've added him to the first aid kit," Dean quipped as he slid into the driver's seat. Sam's reply was eloquently made with a single finger.
"I'll bring your books back soon, Bobby."
"You damned well better."
XXXXX
It was only after the boys had been gone a good couple of hours that Bobby realized that he hadn't told them that their jackass of a father had called. But maybe it was better that he hadn't gotten the chance. Dean was going to have his hands full with Sam and Alec as it was. He didn't need to feel like he should be trying to manage his father as well. Or worry about keeping himself between John and Sam.
He also wasn't sure that John Winchester, Marine, was what Alec needed when he was trying to shake off a lifetime of being a military tool. Bobby didn't know whether Alec would automatically subvert to following John's orders or clash because John had no right or rank with which to boss him.
He would lay money on the fact that the kid had a problem with authority. Dean and Sam sure as hell both did. Nobody but John could get Dean to do something he didn't want to do. Sam was just as stubborn as they came, but Dean had a magic touch when it came to his little brother. He seemed to have the same magic touch with Alec, too.
Bobby also considered that he should call the oldest Winchester and let him know that the cat was out of the bag, at least where Sam was concerned. But quite frankly, Bobby didn't want to know if John would choose between the hunt and being at his children's side. And he didn't want Sam or Dean to ever know that John had had an opportunity to choose, because he didn't want to see the looks on their faces if John didn't choose them. The man just sometimes couldn't see the forest through the trees.
XXXXX
Dean followed the directions Sam was giving by way of pointed finger while Sam spoke on his cell to his doctor friend. He had filled the man in on a lot of things over the last few hours. He hung up when Dean entered the hospital campus. "He said to go in through the doctor's parking lot. To take the elevator up to the fourth floor and he'll be waiting for us." Sam looked into the back where Alec was wedged into a corner and barely conscious.
It had nothing to do with anything they had given him for the seizures. They had given up on that hours ago, because it wasn't helping for shit. He had become steadily more disoriented over the last six hours, and now Sam wasn't sure he was breathing quite right all the time. His sarcastic and smart ass commentary had been replaced by small hurt kitten noises that made Dean cringe and quite frankly want to pull over and hug the kid. They were fucked if they didn't get him medical help soon.
Sam squirmed over the front seat and into the back as soon as he had directed Dean into the right parking lot. He had Alec unwrapped from his cocoon of blankets by the time Dean was parked and had the back door open.
Dean hauled Alec out of the car and didn't even bother with trying to get him to stand or move on his own. He simply scooped Alec up and let Sam catch the doors. He was having enough trouble keeping a hold of the kid while walking that he didn't even really notice much about their surroundings. He just followed his youngest brother.
XXXXX
The colonel stood at the hallway window and looked down at a unit of X6s having monitored sparing matches. In theory, they were the perfect versions of the X5s. They had almost all of the enhanced abilities of the X5s but very little of the aggression, and much less of a tendency to lean towards independent thinking.
In other words, they were easier tools to use, and were extremely unlikely to defect. Dean Winchester's genetic material couldn't be found in any of them. They were all more pliable in personality and easy to mold.
Very few of them showed the sheer brilliance or versatility of thought that cropped up so frequently in his X5s, despite their comparable IQ. He wouldn't say he was disappointed in them. They were everything they were built to be. But he just didn't hold the same pride in them that he had for his X5s. Easier was not always better.
When they had started building the X6s, it had initially been to fix one simple flaw. He looked down at the pill bottle in his hand. It held fourteen pills and 494's full designation code printed on it. The X5s all had a neurological defect. A combination of bad planning, too much tinkering, and unbalanced brain chemistry. It all led up to a short in the system.
The X6s had been built without that flaw, but something had to be sacrificed in return. The X6s weren't quite as fast. The X5s were a half step faster than their younger cousins, but the price they paid for it was the seizures. Seizures that could be controlled easily enough, after a few had been sacrificed to figure out where the problem was.
The real trouble with the seizures was that each X5 was different. They were built from a common framework, but by no means the same mold. For the seizures to be effectively controlled, many had to have their medication tailor made for them. 494 had never been easy to deal with. Even medically. Lydecker had just finished talking to the doctor that managed 494's medical needs. 494's medication was highly compounded. It was a work of chemical art. There was not a market equivalent available that would stop the seizures and leave him awake and functioning. If 494 wanted to stop the seizures, he would have to come home.
Colonel Lydecker was grateful that all of his truly gifted X5s weren't as finicky. Max, for example, could be given simple supplemental tryptophan, something he had been much more grateful for before her escape. Truthfully, he knew that much of 494's somewhat fragile medical state was nothing wrong with his genetic makeup. It was Manticore's tinkering, and efforts at managing his behavior. Every medical disaster and stint in Psy-Ops required a barrage of lab work and altering of the chemical formula of his medication before he could be released back to his unit.
The doctor who was in charge of 494's care assured him that they had three and half to four days before the seizures became serious and then another eight to ten hours before they altered and became life threatening. The colonel knew that was a generous estimate.
He needed to find them before there was nothing left of 494 to find.
XXXXX
When Dean stepped out of the elevator, there was a young man of medium height and short blond hair waiting for them. Dean figured that the young man was Sam's doctor friend. "Come on." He waved for them to follow and crossed the hall into one of the patient rooms.
"Put him down." The tone was a clear order and Dean did as he was told, shooting a look at the two women, presumably nurses, waiting. They moved in almost as soon as his weight settled, if you could call it settling. Dean thought it was the most disturbing interpretive dance he had ever seen. And he had seen a few. There had been this chick when he was in high school. She had been a crappy dancer but great in bed.
The doctor herded them both towards the door. "Give us a few if you can. Otherwise, it'll be too crowded to move quickly. Sam, you look like shit." And with that, he disappeared into the room and half closed the door behind him, leaving them standing in the hall. Dean suddenly liked this man. He would take any ally he could get, since Sam seemed to think he could pretend that everything was fine. Also, he would earn serious points if he could help Alec. They'd outweigh the ones he had lost by separating him from the newest family member.
About a half an hour had passed since his brother had disappeared behind that closed door. The first thing he had done to distract himself was push Sam down into one of the padded chairs that were spaced periodically throughout the hall, like they weren't expecting patients to be able to make it the full distance. Sam nearly puddled in the chair, so Dean figured that maybe they were right. Then he paced.
It took him nearly ten minutes to figure out why the place was less depressingly plain and sterile than he expected. He was on the pediatrics floor. The walls were the same white he had come to expect, and the floor was white linoleum with a tan row of tiles at the edge which matched the pale wooden railing that ran the length of the hall, only broken up by patient room doorways. It was a little low to be comfortable for adult use, which he figured meant it might be around Sammy's knees. There were brightly colored pictures and an occasional balloon tied to a door handle.
The nurses, who wore scrubs with things like dinosaurs and teddy bears printed on them, watched him with understanding but never once tried to get him to stop pacing. He did stop and make a beeline for Sam when he saw a nurse approach him. Here it was. The part where they had to lie on paperwork and do some fast talking. He was a little startled when all he saw was the woman handing Sam a mug of coffee. Not a paper cup, but an actual mug. So much better than a clipboard and a reason to have to construct believable lies. She turned and offered him the other mug she was holding.
"Thanks, Suzie." Sam smiled up at her as he took the mug. Dean noted immediately that Sam had given her the genuine smile, not the polite one that everyone thought was genuine. His real smile could melt anyone's heart at one hundred paces.
"No problem. There's more coffee in kitchen at the end of hall." She left them and went into a patient room. She was short and a little plump, but curved in all the right places. He'd pay more attention later. He stared down at his coffee mug, a real mug with real coffee. The mug had a grumpy face on it. Sam's had a fish. These were staff owned mugs. Sam had given her a real smile. Sam knew these people. On a pediatrics floor.
"Sammy."
"It's Sam."
"Yeah, say that again when you're strong enough to enforce it. When did you meet this doctor friend of yours?" He had a sneaking suspicion he wasn't going to like the answer. Sam had only been seventeen when he had started college. A year younger than most people. It wasn't entirely unreasonable. Sam was smart enough to use their constant moves to his advantage. He may have hated them, but that wouldn't stop him from twisting things to his advantage. Dean distinctly remembered that weird no man's land between middle school, junior high, and high school. Sam had bushwhacked that new school into bumping him up a grade.
In some parts of the country there was middle school, which was grade six through eight. In others parts there was junior high, which was seven through nine. Even though ninth grade went on the high school transcript, it wasn't actually in the high school. Sam had simply told them that he had finished junior high, when in reality he had only finished middle school. Dean had backed him up without any prompting, figuring if his baby brother thought he could hack skipping from eighth grade to tenth, who was he to stop the kid? When the records hadn't quite matched up, it wasn't a surprise. Sam's records were a mess. So they took the easy way out and gave in.
Other than a couple of algebra sticky spots Sam had done just fine and made it into Stanford at the age of seventeen. If only that transition had gone as smoothly.
"The end of my first semester." Normally he would have tried to deflect, but if Dean was busy tweaking out at him about something that had happened a year and a half ago, he wasn't worrying himself to death over Alec or wearing a hole in the floor.
"In the ER."
"Yes. In the ER."
"And you didn't call me?"
"Why would I?" It hadn't been that serious an injury, or he really would have called. But that wasn't why he had asked Dean the question. He had asked it to wind Dean up and keep his attention.
"Why? Because clearly you were hurt badly enough to end up here!" Dean didn't raise his voice, but he did gesture a bit wildly with one hand. The hand that wasn't holding the coffee, Sam noted. Coffee was like crack to Dean. Addictive and something he would protect to the point of violence.
"It was just a couple of stitches and some blood loss." Sam rolled his eyes at Dean. It was a move guaranteed to keep him fuming for another couple of minutes.
"Sam." Dean let it come out as a growl. Let Sam distract him and play him. They knew each other too well for him to not see what Sam was doing.
"Full story?" Sam took an appreciative sip of his coffee.
"Full story."
"I was out with friends and this guy tried to mug us. He started by waving a gun." He held up a hand to hold Dean off. "I would have just given in and coughed up whatever I had. Who cares, right? I'd won it hustling cards. But you know that look people get when they've just lost it?"
"Yeah." They sometimes saw it in victims of cases they worked. Sometimes someone had been pushed just around the bend at a place that you didn't want to follow to.
Sam nodded. "He wasn't going to let us walk away, money or no." He shrugged. "It was just muscle memory from there. It was easy enough to disarm him. I just hadn't counted on the broken bottle he managed to find. He got me. I got him with the knife you know I always carry."
"That must have gone over real well."
"Well, yeah, if you count that no one started screaming. I kicked the bottle and the gun into the drain and by the time the cops got there, dropped the knife. Said it was his."
"You got hurt getting it from him and then defended yourself?"
"Exactly. Of course, there was an ER trip."
"Of course."
"Collin caught my name, lied and said that it was totally a knife wound, admitted me to buy time, and, well, I was a minor and no one could get a hold of Dad . . ."
"Admittedly, that was pretty slick." Dean took a large but somehow still experimental swallow of coffee. He settled on the arm of the chair Sam was sitting in, finally able to stand still for a few minutes. "That how you know Suzie?"
Sam was saved from having to answer by Alec's door opening and Sam's doctor friend stepping out into the hall. "I need you two in here, I think."
Dean was up and across the hall in less than a second, coffee mug left sitting on the arm of the chair. Sam was slower, but not from lack of effort. "Why? What's wrong? Is Alec . . ."
The doctor cut Dean off. "He's not responding to the medication we've given him, and now we can't get near him. He's panicking."
XXXXX
Previous Chapters
Author: Karasu Yurei
Fandom: Supernatural/Dark Angel
Rateing: PG 13
Spoilers: Yes. Seriously, vague and not so vague spoiler for both series though wildly AU from both. Take that however you want. And also for the Dark Angel written cannon.
Disclaimer: If I owned them Sam and Dean would be hugging more often, or at all.
Warning: Medical. Seizures. Winchesters in a vehicle other than the sacred Impala.
Author's note of DOOM. I seriously mean it this time.
This and the next few chapters are a finely crafted blend of heavy research, medical fact, and utter bullshit. I'm good at it, I swear. I used to write papers like this all the time for college. I even got A's on them.
Medical facts. Phenobarbital really is first line treatment for cats. Though epilepsy is very rare in cats. Valium is a valid anti-convulsant.
A person really can have continuous seizures. It is, obviously, bad news. The kind of seizures Alec is having are real, (Even in DA they were real. I was a little stunned to find that out.) though the severity is exaggerated. And they are rare. But hey, genetically engineered cat people. What are you going to do?
Medical screw ups/myths. Never try to restrain someone having a seizure. Someone will get hurt. There are circumstances in the fic. But still. If there is a hand book, this is not in it. Also, grand mal is an outdated term, but it's one people know, so I used it anyway.
Stay tuned for more medical facts in future author's notes written by a chick that is not a medical professional. But I work for one. Counts for something, right?
Also, hey, I think this is some sort of record for shortest time between chapters. Go me!
Chapter 12
It only took Sam two steps to cross the bathroom floor and drop to his knees next to Alec. He managed to get an arm around Alec's shoulders before another spasm caused him to hit his head against the wall. He could feel the heavy bandages padding Alec's wounded shoulder pressing against his arm. Seizures, muscle damage, and broken bones were a bad combination. Seizures were pretty much guaranteed to make anything bad.
Alec looked over at Sam unsteadily. "Thanks," he said, and that was all he had time to say before his entire body jerked again, and he nearly kicked Sam, who was still more or less in front of him.
"DEAN!" Sam had an impressive bellow when he put his mind to it. He pulled Alec away from the wall and then sat behind him to keep him upright and from hitting anything else hard. Clearly his own bony chest didn't count.
Dean bolted up from his chair in the kitchen so fast that he knocked it over, and he was already at the stairs before it hit the floor. He had his gun drawn when he reached the top. "Sammy?" He edged his way along the wall, not sure what he was facing, but it had to be mean if it had gotten past Bobby's defenses.
"In the bathroom. Grab a pillow."
Dean thought he must have heard Sam wrong. He was much more used to hearing things like ‘grab the salt', or ‘grab the shotgun.' Or the one notable occasion when things had gone really off the rails and their father had told them ‘grab your ankles and kiss your ass goodbye.' "Grab a pillow' threw him, and as he cleared the bathroom door, he just blinked for a moment as he tried to comprehend what he was seeing. Sam and Alec were both sitting on the floor. Sam had Alec pulled up against him, and his arms were wrapped around Alec, clearly trying to restrain him. Sam winced as one of Alec's elbows caught him hard, and he almost lost his grip. Alec was a lot stronger than the average person.
"Dean!" His attention leaped back to Sam's face when he heard his name. "Go get some pillows before he gives himself a concussion, breaks my ribs, or fucks up his shoulder." Never let it be said that Sammy didn't have a clear head in a crisis.
Dean nodded once and then went to get what Sam had asked for, replacing the gun in the back of his jeans. He came back with all three pillows from their room. He laid one down in the middle of the floor and then reached out to help Sam lay Alec down on his side, head safely on the pillow, right shoulder to the floor. He laid the other two against the wall in case they needed them. After another minute or so, Alec relaxed.
"When did this start?" Dean asked Sam, but it was Alec that answered.
"Hour ago." Alec was surprised he had the energy to talk. Right now he felt like utter crap, but he was still thinking straight. Amazingly. Sam and Dean seemed surprised he was coherent at all.
"Shit," Sam said, with heartfelt vehemence. "Has this ever happened before?"
"Yeah."
"Do you have medication?" Dean was hoped the answer was yes so he could solve this by cramming it down the kid's throat and then smacking him for not taking it.
"Ran out." Alec reasoned that this explanation would piss them off less than admitting that they had booked it out of Manticore without any at all.
"And you didn't tell us you have fucking epilepsy?" Dean barked. "Christ, I'm calling an ambulance." He started to stand when Alec's hand caught hold of his wrist. Even having seizures, Alec was freakishly fast.
"No. Colonel Lydecker'll find me. Find you an' Sam."
"Kiddo, you've been having seizures for over an hour and you have no medication. You need a doctor." Dean had a fair amount of medical training. He could set simple breaks, stitch wounds, sometimes even remove bullets: Alec was living proof. He knew what to do with minor infections and fever and pain, but seizures were beyond him and Sam, and he was willing to bet cash money they were beyond Bobby, too.
"No. Please." Alec's hand tightened painfully around Dean's wrist, and the X5 shuddered violently. "Renfro'll take me apart. Parts." He managed to look up at Dean, fear clear in his eyes. Exhaustion was making it impossible to hide his emotions like he normally would.
Dean pried his wrist free before Alec accidentally broke it, then helped Sam try to hold him steady as the next seizure really took hold. All three of them knew that the best they could hope for was that Alec didn't hurt himself, because Dean had tangled with the kid's friends. They couldn't hold him. "Call Bobby," Sam told him. "I know a doctor that might be able to help, but he's in Palo Alto. Bobby might have an idea in the meantime."
"You call Bobby," Dean replied, as he did his damnedest to pin Alec's arms and try to protect the broken bone that had to be taking an even worse beating than the rest of his body. "You aren't strong enough right now to hold him for more than a second." After a moment, Sam nodded. Now was not the time to be arguing with Dean over the state of his health.
Alec looked like he wanted to protest, but it was beyond him. "I'll be back in a sec." Sam stood and went back into their room, grabbed his cell phone off the nightstand, and scrolled to Bobby's number at the garage as he went back to Dean and Alec. The X5 was a mess. He looked afraid, hurt, and exhausted and those were just not expressions that Sam was used to seeing on Dean's face. No matter who was wearing that face. Even though he had two years on Sam, right now the newest Winchester looked younger than him.
After a long pause, Sam replied to whatever Bobby's opening comment had been with, "I'd rather deal with a demon, Bobby, any day." Sam paused to listen to the older man speak. Then: "Alec's having seizures and has been for over an hour, he says." There was another pause while Sam held the phone away from his ear for a few seconds with a wince. It didn't take long for Bobby to wind down. "No, we just found out. We can't call 911." Another pause. "Because he asked us not to. Bobby, he's not entirely human, remember?" A longer pause. "Thanks, Bobby." Sam hung up. "He's on his way. He'll be here in six minutes." He slipped the phone into his back pocket as he knelt down in front of Alec.
Dean had settled right behind Alec's shoulders, which he quickly grabbed as Alec jerked forward, towards the wall. "Whoa, let's keep your head away from the wall, shall we?" Sam saw the wince as pressure was applied to the bullet wound, and Dean's answering wince of sympathy.
A couple of minutes later, the seizure seemed to pass, or at least allowed Alec to relax a little. "Some genetic enhancement, huh?" he quipped, as he tried to catch his breath. He started to roll so he was laying more on his back than his side. Sam handed Dean one of the spare pillows to put under Alec's shoulder. Alec looked at both of them looking down at him in concern. With Sam the expression didn't seem that foreign; while he knew already that Sam could act like an Oscar winner, he wasn't the sort hide his emotions. Dean was a different story, though, and while he had seen this look directed at Sam right after they escaped, he had never thought he would see it turned on him. He hadn't actually thought they would adopt him into the family the way Dean had said they would. "You're hovering like grannies." His voice sounded weak to his own ears. He noticed that neither had pulled their hands away, even though he wasn't shaking at the moment. He felt absurdly grateful.
"Bobby'll be pissed if you put a hole in his wall." Dean could always be trusted for a smart ass comment. He was starting to think he had come by his attitude problem honestly.
Alec closed his eyes as another tremor started. "Tired, hurts." He let Sam roll him onto his side again, in as close to recovery position as Sam could get him while he was convulsing the way he was. Sam and Dean shared a worried look over Alec's shaking form. "Do you know what the medication was?" Sam asked, hoping, praying that this was as simple as swiping a prescription pad and hustling cards or pool for the money to get the meds. "Don't know." Alec sounded miserable. "Just took them. Orders." Sam assumed that this meant that Alec just took them as he was told to. He didn't like that Alec would blindly take orders. He hated it when Dean did it, too.
Just then they heard the back door bang open hard. "Bobby? That you, man?" Dean called out, one hand going to his gun, feeling that paranoia was justified with one of them down and defenseless and the other weak as a kitten even if the bitch wouldn't admit it. He honestly wasn't sure which brother he would match with which description, and that was just sad."Yeah, I'll be up in a sec." Bobby sounded breathless, obviously having rushed back from the garage. A moment later, they heard Bobby climb the stairs, and Dean took his hand away from his gun when the older man cam into view toting a large tool box. Sam assumed that the tool box was Bobby's med. kit. A lot of hunters used them for that purpose, including Sam and Dean. In fact, they had picked up the trick from Bobby. Tool boxes made sure things stayed well organized and easy to find. Saving time could save a life. Sam shifted to make room for Bobby to crouch down next to him. It was getting damned crowded in the small bathroom with four full grown men, three of whom topped six feet. "Has he lost consciousness or is he having any trouble breathing?" Bobby asked as he unlatched the lid to the kit.
"No," Alec ground out before Sam could reply. Bobby watched as the brothers had trouble keeping Alec effectively immobile. He was going to be a hurting puppy when this was over.
"I know that sometimes sedating someone can stop a seizure. Do you want me to try that? I have the stuff for that." Bobby watched the kid jerk and shudder, and the worried but hopeful looks on Dean and Sam's faces. He also saw a flash of fear cross Alec's eyes, and he didn't think it was the seizure putting it there. Dean worried at his bottom lip a little.
"Yeah," Alec finally replied after a long moment. "Out. Sleep," he added, just to make sure they understood. The concept of being sedated scared the ever-living fuck out of him, but the thought of having a full grand mal seizure scared him just a little bit more. He knew that was what would happen if he tried to ride this out. Bobby looked up to get an agreement from either of the Winchesters, wanting to be sure that Alec was mentally competent enough to make a choice like that. Sam nodded agreement.
"You allergic to anything, kid?" Bobby pulled out a vial of medication and a syringe, which he uncapped with his teeth.
"Yes, sir." The tension started to drain out of him again for a moment or two, allowing him to get a look at the bottle Bobby was holding. "But not that." He watched Bobby draw up the medication with remarkably clear eyes. Bobby had seen that look on dogs that were waiting to be hit. They would stand still for it, but that didn't mean that it didn't frighten them.
"I have to warn ya that this might not work. Or even if it does, you might start having seizures again when you wake up. You understand?" He tore open an alcohol wipe, but waited for Alec to reply before moving any closer.
"Yes, sir." Seeing the syringe made him remember his times is Psy-Ops and Med Lab. As his nerves started to key up with instinctual fear, he fell back to his old habit of addressing people in positions of authority.
Bobby watched the kid tense up at the sight of the needle, so he made sure to keep his movements slow, not wanting to startle him. He could already see the hand shaped bruise starting to show on Dean's wrist. This was not a kid he wanted to mess with. "I'm not going to hurt you any." His voice dropped to the gentler tone he had used with the boys when John used to leave them with him when they were younger. He reached out to swab of a small patch of skin on Alec's arm and paused as he felt the heat coming off of him. "Shit, you're burning up."
"He's starting to shake again, so you might want to get that into him," Dean said. Bobby looked over and saw that Dean was moving a hand through Alec's hair, obviously trying to calm him. The motion was slow and steady, with his fingers crooked like he was petting a cat.
Bobby nodded. "This may burn a little going in, but it should help you out in just a few minutes." With that, Bobby stuck him with the needle, trusting Sam to keep the kid from decking him, though in all honesty Sam was not in the best of health either. When he was done, he recapped the syringe and tossed it into the tub, out of their way, and rubbed at Alec's arm to get the medication moving. Alec flinched when he made contact, and Bobby wasn't sure if it was the seizure or an aversion to touch. Given the way the kid had tracked the needle like a frightened animal, Bobby was going to guess option number two. "I just gave you a good sized dose of benzodiazapine, Valium; it'll take a few minutes to take effect." Bobby moved back, and he could already see Alec's seizure start to worsen. "When it does, we're going to move you somewhere more comfortable than the bathroom floor. It's kinda crowded in here." He closed up the med kit and sat back to wait. "If he's got a fever, we should try to do something about it."
"Cat," Alec tried to explain, but it was hard with his jaw clenching and his air limited.Sam was the one who caught on first. "Cats have a higher normal body temperature than humans. Is that it?" He looked down at Alec, who nodded a little.
Bobby sighed. "You Winchesters know how to get yourselves into some damned interesting fixes." He felt like a broken record, but it was either repeat himself in a sort of resigned and amused despair for all the trouble they caused him, or throw them out on their asses. He was getting too old for option B. He had to save it all for their father. "Don't suppose he gave you any sort of medical history?"
"Just that this has happened before and that he ran out of medication."
"Yeah, clearly. I'm going to go see if I can find a pill bottle. Call if he gets any worse. The meds should kick in after another five minutes or so." With that, Bobby stood and headed off.
"You said you knew a doctor, Sam?" Dean looked up at his youngest brother, then back down as he felt Alec move deliberately to look up at him. "You don't get to argue, Alec. You heard Bobby. This is a temporary solution at best."
"He's a resident at the Stanford Hospital. He saved my ass from the cops once. Recognized my name. His mom's a hunter. He'll keep things quiet."
"You sure, Sammy? Just because his mom's a hunter doesn't mean you can trust him with this. An X5 might be a little much on the weird side." He knew Alec was still awake and listening, but figured the kid had a right to hear what they were talking about.
Sam shook his head, even as he tightened his grip on Alec. "She's also a werewolf." He caught Dean's startled look. "Yeah, that caught me off guard too. He understands weird, even by hunter standards and he understands family even if it isn't entirely human."
Alec was finally starting to relax, and he could tell it wasn't just the slight reprieve between convulsions, but an actual break in them. His body was finally allowing him to drift towards sleep. "Family?" He was also starting to feel sappy, which sure as hell wasn't normal. Must be the damned drugs.
"Yeah. That's what we said, Little Toaster," was Dean's short reply. "Now go to sleep. You're starting to act all girly like Sam."
"Hey!" Sam protested. "That was uncalled for."
"Just calling it like I see it, Sammy."
"It's Sam."
"Whatever."
Alec drifted off, listening to them bicker back and forth. He wasn't exactly asleep, but he certainly wasn't awake. He wondered in a distant way if he wanted to be part of this family. He might have to listen to them bicker all the time then. He could feel himself shudder again, but it was much less violent now. He still ached like he had just gotten the worst beating of his life, and his shoulder felt like someone had jammed a hot poker into it, but strangely that didn't worry him much either. He couldn't really recall anyone ever being this nice to him, or comforting him when he was injured before. His sibs were never allowed in the med lab to visit him. That was sort of sick when he really thought about it.
He heard Bobby come back and talk to Sam and Dean, but he was having trouble caring about what they were talking about. Then someone was scooping him up off the floor, which was new and interesting. It would have been completely unacceptable had he been awake enough to protest.
"He weighs a damned ton."
"You want some help there, Dean?"
"No, just get out of the way before I drop him. Or I'll make you carry him out to the car later."
Sam did not sound pleased with this, but then Alec was deposited on a mattress with a slight bounce and pillows were put back under his head and shoulder. After that, his body gave in to the exhaustion.
XXXXX
Sam, Dean, and Bobby sat for a quiet moment or two, watching Alec as the heavy shudders turned to shivers and then stopped altogether.
It was Bobby who finally broke the silence. "I knew that perfect soldier crap was to good to be true."
"Hey, he didn't tell us he was freakin' epileptic. I thought we were getting something top of the line," was the only defense that Dean could think of. He had to admit, if only to himself, that it was a pretty sad one.
"He says this like he would have left him behind if he'd known," Sam replied with amusement. "Did you find anything in his bag? A pill bottle or something?" he asked Bobby hopefully.
"Zip. Nothing but what your brother's bought for him in the past few days." Bobby shook his head. "Which means he lied to you, unless he has a pill bottle on him. He didn't run out."
"He didn't have anything with him." Dean finished Bobby's thought.
"Yeah."
"Why the hell didn't he bring something with him if he knew he needed it?" Sam asked, clearly bewildered.
"Because I think he was running scared." Dean didn't bother to elaborate. "How long will what you shot him up with last?"
"It's hard to say, but the most we'll get is two hours. If he was taking steady medication for these seizures, then he's going to need a doctor. Maybe a hospital. We all know that for shit like this, you should call in the professionals. Especially since he doesn't know what he was taking. I know seizure medication is tricky stuff sometimes."
"Sam, you had better call that doc you know," Dean said. "And we had better all hope we can trust him." Bobby gave them a questioning look, but Sam was already pulling his phone from his pocket. He flipped it open and scrolled until he found the right number, then hit send. It only took a couple of rings for Collin to pick up.
"Hey, dude, it's Sam Winchester . . . yeah, I know I've been gone longer than I said I'd be. It's a long fucking story, man. I'll tell you later." Sam paused, listening, smiling a little at whatever his friend was saying. "I'm okay," Sam said, and ignored Dean's snort of disagreement, "but I need a world class favor . . . . more than buying the beer, man, like buying steak dinners for you mom's entire pack big." Another pause, but with no smiling this time. "Yeah, I'm dead serious."
Sam began to pace in the small confines of the room. "This guy, Alec, he's my brother. He's having seizures . . . pretty bad, on and off for at least an hour, mostly on. He takes medication, but he doesn't know what it is and we can't get any more. He ran out a couple of days ago . . . he's stopped now. Bobby doped him up with some Valium . . . he was thinking clearly the entire time, I think . . . he said he was tired, and hurt, but he made a few smart ass comments, so I'm pretty sure he was up to speed there . . . yeah, we know we need to bring him to a hospital, that's why I called you. This is where things get really weird. He's, ah . . . hell, he's a genetically engineered super soldier." Sam paused in his pacing. "Does it sound like I'm joking?" Sam's voice was tight and low. "Okay, sorry, I'm just tense, he's a mess right now, and it's kinda hard to watch. But everything about him needs to be kept quiet." He listened for a long moment. "We can be there by this time tomorrow." There was a long pause this time, then: "I can't even begin to thank you." There was a long pause, as Sam listened. "See you tomorrow, man." Then he ended the call.
"Who the hell are you spilling all of this to, kid?" Bobby immediately demanded.
"Collin's a resident at the Stanford Hospital. There was this thing with a mugging and a stabbing and me carrying concealed . . . anyway, we got to be friends. His mom's a hunter."
"Yeah, but, dude, you said she was a werewolf," Dean interjected.
"Can't both be true?"
"No!" Bobby and Dean answered together.
"Tough, because she is." Sam started packing up their few belongings. "She was attacked, and her husband, Collin's father, was killed. She was turned and hunted down the monster that killed her husband and put an end to it. Werewolves don't have to be monsters. Most aren't. Most of the time we don't even know they're around."
"And let me just say that that is so uncool!" Dean interrupted.
"Yeah, whatever, dude. We can talk about this shit later. Right now we have a twenty-four hour drive to make."
Dean watched Sam for a moment. "You really think we can trust him, Sam?" It was an honest question, one he wanted Sam to stop and put real thought into. Sam knew that tone. When he was a kid, he had called it Dean's ‘important stuff' voice. It often came after arguments with their father. "Because we aren't just talking about some medication or a run-in with some cops, which you'll have to tell me about by the way, but our lives. These Manticore freaks are still after you and Alec, I'm sure. And it'll be damned hard for us to hide on a college campus. You have friends there, friends you could lose because they'll be curious. I know you weren't big on sharing."
Bobby watched as Sam stilled, calmed. John would have had to work a miracle to get the same effect. Bobby never doubted that John loved his boys, but it was times like this that a person could see who had done the emotional raising of Sam Winchester.
"I trust him," Sam finally said. "And we can try to dodge my friends, the people that know me. If it doesn't work, I'll just have to deal with the consequences. Family comes before everything else. First rule of being a Winchester. Dad turned his back on me. Not the other way around. And don't tell me I'm wrong, because I don't want to hear it right now." Sam's voice was hard as he spoke of their father. But then he sighed, because that wasn't the issue right now. "Strategically, it has some high points. One, I bet they're hoping we'll panic and take him to an ER or a clinic, because they had to know that this would happen. It was like putting a leash on us. Collin will keep this below the radar. Two, we can't hide like we can here, but we can surround ourselves with people. It's a college campus; there's really no such thing as dead of the night. No sneak attacks, and even if they could get that close, I'm sure we can create enough of a ruckus to draw a lot of unwanted witnesses. Three, it's such a stupid thing to do that no military mind worth anything would come up with it."
"Can't argue with that one, little brother."
"The closer we are to danger, the farther we are from harm. Now pack."
"You are such a geek brain."
"You recognized the quote." He stared at Dean until he got up and started to toss things into his bag. Then turned to Bobby. "Could we take that Valium with us? Why do you even have it?"
"I hate hysterical survivors?" Bobby suggested. Which was true. He specialized in demons and possessions; sometimes the kindest thing you could do for survivors was drug them into resting for a day or so.
"Uh huh. Collin said we may have to use it again."
"He did? What else did he say?" Dean asked as he finished up.
"Just that we should give him more if any of the seizures last more than five minutes, if he had trouble breathing, or if they start being continuous like they were this morning. Other than that, to just let them happen. It's safer than messing with drugs."
"Sounds kinda heartless." Dean paused after picking up Alec's boots, looked over at Alec's bare feet, and then fished a pair of his socks out of his bag. He made a face and then crouched by Alec's feet, tugging socks and then his boots onto them. "Y'know, I thought I was done with this when you learned how to dress yourself, Sammy," he grumbled, motions practiced.
"You like playing big brother; don't think you're fooling anyone, Dean." Bobby stood. "C'mon, Sam we can get the medication, and I've got a couple of books to send with you."
"Guys," Dean said, looking over his shoulder at Bobby and Sam. "In case you don't remember, we don't have a car." He was holding one of Alec's military issue boots. Exactly the same as the ones he was now wearing himself except more worn, better broken in. "She's in the back of a U-haul with holes in her. And I know she still runs, but she's got nothing left to hide us with."
Bobby took his hat off and scratched his forehead for a second, then slapped the hat back on. "I got something for you to use. It's isn't a hunter's set of wheels, but it'll get you where you need to go." He watched Sam and Dean look at each other like they had just been asked to leave a family member behind. He guessed that, in a way, they had. John had once let it slip that the car had been Mary's, which would explain the love John had treated it with, even in the beginning. The Impala was the only home Sam had ever really known. "I'll take care of her. Get the windows replaced and the bullet hole taken care of. Then I'll get her shipped out to you. That sound okay?"
After a moment, Dean nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, that'll be okay."
"Let's go get you those books, Sam."
"Bobby, you don't have . . ."
"Shut up, kid. It's a loan, so you had best bring them back."
"Sure," Sam said with a grin. Hunters always seemed to have emotional communication problems. He was used to it.
As they left, Dean settled his weight back on his heels and left his elbows on his knees. "Dad's gonna kill me," he muttered to his unconscious new brother. "And I don't know whether it's going to be for adopting you into our fucked up little family, since, let's face it, I've known you for like maybe a week. Or for letting Sammy out of hiding, for getting the Impala shot up or . . . shit, he's gonna rip me a new one." He remained there, quiet for a few moments, and then Sam came back in with the vial of medication and a couple of well-worn leather-bound books which he tucked into his laptop bag. The vial went into his pants pocket.
"You ready? Bobby said he'd help carry our bags out to the car, and that'll leave you to move Alec." Sam began gathering up their bags. He grabbed all of his own and one of Dean's, leaving Bobby to get the last two bags plus a blanket and pillow. There was an expectant pause as Bobby and Dean waited for him to tip over under the weight. He rolled his eyes at them and hauled the stuff out.
"Yeah, I'm good." Dean scooped Alec up off the mattress. "Let me go first." He headed towards the door with a fairly steady stride, and didn't even pause as Alec started to rouse. The kid was too well trained to not at least attempt to assess whatever situation was happening to make someone carry him. "Dude," Dean looked down as Alec's bleary eyes opened and blinked, "go back to sleep, I won't drop you." Dean kept moving. Alec really had no choice but to comply.
Dean nearly backed up when Bobby stopped in front of a mini-van. "Bobby? Do I look like a soccer mom?"
"You will if you give me any more lip," Bobby retorted. "It runs; that's all you need to worry about right now."
"Right." Sometimes even a Winchester knew when to lay down arms. Soon they had Alec laying across one of the back seats under a blanket and all their bags except the laptop bag stowed on the other. Dean and Bobby took a few minutes to get the first aid kit and a couple of bags of the important things from the weapons locker. Sam had produced a zip-lock bag, most likely stolen from Bobby, and wrote Alec's name on it. Into it, he dropped four syringes and the vial of medication.
"Well, now we have to keep him, since you've added him to the first aid kit," Dean quipped as he slid into the driver's seat. Sam's reply was eloquently made with a single finger.
"I'll bring your books back soon, Bobby."
"You damned well better."
XXXXX
It was only after the boys had been gone a good couple of hours that Bobby realized that he hadn't told them that their jackass of a father had called. But maybe it was better that he hadn't gotten the chance. Dean was going to have his hands full with Sam and Alec as it was. He didn't need to feel like he should be trying to manage his father as well. Or worry about keeping himself between John and Sam.
He also wasn't sure that John Winchester, Marine, was what Alec needed when he was trying to shake off a lifetime of being a military tool. Bobby didn't know whether Alec would automatically subvert to following John's orders or clash because John had no right or rank with which to boss him.
He would lay money on the fact that the kid had a problem with authority. Dean and Sam sure as hell both did. Nobody but John could get Dean to do something he didn't want to do. Sam was just as stubborn as they came, but Dean had a magic touch when it came to his little brother. He seemed to have the same magic touch with Alec, too.
Bobby also considered that he should call the oldest Winchester and let him know that the cat was out of the bag, at least where Sam was concerned. But quite frankly, Bobby didn't want to know if John would choose between the hunt and being at his children's side. And he didn't want Sam or Dean to ever know that John had had an opportunity to choose, because he didn't want to see the looks on their faces if John didn't choose them. The man just sometimes couldn't see the forest through the trees.
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Dean followed the directions Sam was giving by way of pointed finger while Sam spoke on his cell to his doctor friend. He had filled the man in on a lot of things over the last few hours. He hung up when Dean entered the hospital campus. "He said to go in through the doctor's parking lot. To take the elevator up to the fourth floor and he'll be waiting for us." Sam looked into the back where Alec was wedged into a corner and barely conscious.
It had nothing to do with anything they had given him for the seizures. They had given up on that hours ago, because it wasn't helping for shit. He had become steadily more disoriented over the last six hours, and now Sam wasn't sure he was breathing quite right all the time. His sarcastic and smart ass commentary had been replaced by small hurt kitten noises that made Dean cringe and quite frankly want to pull over and hug the kid. They were fucked if they didn't get him medical help soon.
Sam squirmed over the front seat and into the back as soon as he had directed Dean into the right parking lot. He had Alec unwrapped from his cocoon of blankets by the time Dean was parked and had the back door open.
Dean hauled Alec out of the car and didn't even bother with trying to get him to stand or move on his own. He simply scooped Alec up and let Sam catch the doors. He was having enough trouble keeping a hold of the kid while walking that he didn't even really notice much about their surroundings. He just followed his youngest brother.
XXXXX
The colonel stood at the hallway window and looked down at a unit of X6s having monitored sparing matches. In theory, they were the perfect versions of the X5s. They had almost all of the enhanced abilities of the X5s but very little of the aggression, and much less of a tendency to lean towards independent thinking.
In other words, they were easier tools to use, and were extremely unlikely to defect. Dean Winchester's genetic material couldn't be found in any of them. They were all more pliable in personality and easy to mold.
Very few of them showed the sheer brilliance or versatility of thought that cropped up so frequently in his X5s, despite their comparable IQ. He wouldn't say he was disappointed in them. They were everything they were built to be. But he just didn't hold the same pride in them that he had for his X5s. Easier was not always better.
When they had started building the X6s, it had initially been to fix one simple flaw. He looked down at the pill bottle in his hand. It held fourteen pills and 494's full designation code printed on it. The X5s all had a neurological defect. A combination of bad planning, too much tinkering, and unbalanced brain chemistry. It all led up to a short in the system.
The X6s had been built without that flaw, but something had to be sacrificed in return. The X6s weren't quite as fast. The X5s were a half step faster than their younger cousins, but the price they paid for it was the seizures. Seizures that could be controlled easily enough, after a few had been sacrificed to figure out where the problem was.
The real trouble with the seizures was that each X5 was different. They were built from a common framework, but by no means the same mold. For the seizures to be effectively controlled, many had to have their medication tailor made for them. 494 had never been easy to deal with. Even medically. Lydecker had just finished talking to the doctor that managed 494's medical needs. 494's medication was highly compounded. It was a work of chemical art. There was not a market equivalent available that would stop the seizures and leave him awake and functioning. If 494 wanted to stop the seizures, he would have to come home.
Colonel Lydecker was grateful that all of his truly gifted X5s weren't as finicky. Max, for example, could be given simple supplemental tryptophan, something he had been much more grateful for before her escape. Truthfully, he knew that much of 494's somewhat fragile medical state was nothing wrong with his genetic makeup. It was Manticore's tinkering, and efforts at managing his behavior. Every medical disaster and stint in Psy-Ops required a barrage of lab work and altering of the chemical formula of his medication before he could be released back to his unit.
The doctor who was in charge of 494's care assured him that they had three and half to four days before the seizures became serious and then another eight to ten hours before they altered and became life threatening. The colonel knew that was a generous estimate.
He needed to find them before there was nothing left of 494 to find.
XXXXX
When Dean stepped out of the elevator, there was a young man of medium height and short blond hair waiting for them. Dean figured that the young man was Sam's doctor friend. "Come on." He waved for them to follow and crossed the hall into one of the patient rooms.
"Put him down." The tone was a clear order and Dean did as he was told, shooting a look at the two women, presumably nurses, waiting. They moved in almost as soon as his weight settled, if you could call it settling. Dean thought it was the most disturbing interpretive dance he had ever seen. And he had seen a few. There had been this chick when he was in high school. She had been a crappy dancer but great in bed.
The doctor herded them both towards the door. "Give us a few if you can. Otherwise, it'll be too crowded to move quickly. Sam, you look like shit." And with that, he disappeared into the room and half closed the door behind him, leaving them standing in the hall. Dean suddenly liked this man. He would take any ally he could get, since Sam seemed to think he could pretend that everything was fine. Also, he would earn serious points if he could help Alec. They'd outweigh the ones he had lost by separating him from the newest family member.
About a half an hour had passed since his brother had disappeared behind that closed door. The first thing he had done to distract himself was push Sam down into one of the padded chairs that were spaced periodically throughout the hall, like they weren't expecting patients to be able to make it the full distance. Sam nearly puddled in the chair, so Dean figured that maybe they were right. Then he paced.
It took him nearly ten minutes to figure out why the place was less depressingly plain and sterile than he expected. He was on the pediatrics floor. The walls were the same white he had come to expect, and the floor was white linoleum with a tan row of tiles at the edge which matched the pale wooden railing that ran the length of the hall, only broken up by patient room doorways. It was a little low to be comfortable for adult use, which he figured meant it might be around Sammy's knees. There were brightly colored pictures and an occasional balloon tied to a door handle.
The nurses, who wore scrubs with things like dinosaurs and teddy bears printed on them, watched him with understanding but never once tried to get him to stop pacing. He did stop and make a beeline for Sam when he saw a nurse approach him. Here it was. The part where they had to lie on paperwork and do some fast talking. He was a little startled when all he saw was the woman handing Sam a mug of coffee. Not a paper cup, but an actual mug. So much better than a clipboard and a reason to have to construct believable lies. She turned and offered him the other mug she was holding.
"Thanks, Suzie." Sam smiled up at her as he took the mug. Dean noted immediately that Sam had given her the genuine smile, not the polite one that everyone thought was genuine. His real smile could melt anyone's heart at one hundred paces.
"No problem. There's more coffee in kitchen at the end of hall." She left them and went into a patient room. She was short and a little plump, but curved in all the right places. He'd pay more attention later. He stared down at his coffee mug, a real mug with real coffee. The mug had a grumpy face on it. Sam's had a fish. These were staff owned mugs. Sam had given her a real smile. Sam knew these people. On a pediatrics floor.
"Sammy."
"It's Sam."
"Yeah, say that again when you're strong enough to enforce it. When did you meet this doctor friend of yours?" He had a sneaking suspicion he wasn't going to like the answer. Sam had only been seventeen when he had started college. A year younger than most people. It wasn't entirely unreasonable. Sam was smart enough to use their constant moves to his advantage. He may have hated them, but that wouldn't stop him from twisting things to his advantage. Dean distinctly remembered that weird no man's land between middle school, junior high, and high school. Sam had bushwhacked that new school into bumping him up a grade.
In some parts of the country there was middle school, which was grade six through eight. In others parts there was junior high, which was seven through nine. Even though ninth grade went on the high school transcript, it wasn't actually in the high school. Sam had simply told them that he had finished junior high, when in reality he had only finished middle school. Dean had backed him up without any prompting, figuring if his baby brother thought he could hack skipping from eighth grade to tenth, who was he to stop the kid? When the records hadn't quite matched up, it wasn't a surprise. Sam's records were a mess. So they took the easy way out and gave in.
Other than a couple of algebra sticky spots Sam had done just fine and made it into Stanford at the age of seventeen. If only that transition had gone as smoothly.
"The end of my first semester." Normally he would have tried to deflect, but if Dean was busy tweaking out at him about something that had happened a year and a half ago, he wasn't worrying himself to death over Alec or wearing a hole in the floor.
"In the ER."
"Yes. In the ER."
"And you didn't call me?"
"Why would I?" It hadn't been that serious an injury, or he really would have called. But that wasn't why he had asked Dean the question. He had asked it to wind Dean up and keep his attention.
"Why? Because clearly you were hurt badly enough to end up here!" Dean didn't raise his voice, but he did gesture a bit wildly with one hand. The hand that wasn't holding the coffee, Sam noted. Coffee was like crack to Dean. Addictive and something he would protect to the point of violence.
"It was just a couple of stitches and some blood loss." Sam rolled his eyes at Dean. It was a move guaranteed to keep him fuming for another couple of minutes.
"Sam." Dean let it come out as a growl. Let Sam distract him and play him. They knew each other too well for him to not see what Sam was doing.
"Full story?" Sam took an appreciative sip of his coffee.
"Full story."
"I was out with friends and this guy tried to mug us. He started by waving a gun." He held up a hand to hold Dean off. "I would have just given in and coughed up whatever I had. Who cares, right? I'd won it hustling cards. But you know that look people get when they've just lost it?"
"Yeah." They sometimes saw it in victims of cases they worked. Sometimes someone had been pushed just around the bend at a place that you didn't want to follow to.
Sam nodded. "He wasn't going to let us walk away, money or no." He shrugged. "It was just muscle memory from there. It was easy enough to disarm him. I just hadn't counted on the broken bottle he managed to find. He got me. I got him with the knife you know I always carry."
"That must have gone over real well."
"Well, yeah, if you count that no one started screaming. I kicked the bottle and the gun into the drain and by the time the cops got there, dropped the knife. Said it was his."
"You got hurt getting it from him and then defended yourself?"
"Exactly. Of course, there was an ER trip."
"Of course."
"Collin caught my name, lied and said that it was totally a knife wound, admitted me to buy time, and, well, I was a minor and no one could get a hold of Dad . . ."
"Admittedly, that was pretty slick." Dean took a large but somehow still experimental swallow of coffee. He settled on the arm of the chair Sam was sitting in, finally able to stand still for a few minutes. "That how you know Suzie?"
Sam was saved from having to answer by Alec's door opening and Sam's doctor friend stepping out into the hall. "I need you two in here, I think."
Dean was up and across the hall in less than a second, coffee mug left sitting on the arm of the chair. Sam was slower, but not from lack of effort. "Why? What's wrong? Is Alec . . ."
The doctor cut Dean off. "He's not responding to the medication we've given him, and now we can't get near him. He's panicking."
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