We’ve Held Fire Long Enough To Learn, for amanofmydreams, part 2 of 2
June 14, 1995 - The Angel Program Special Kids Facility
The door to the infirmary blew open and a second later a frantic Dean Winchester stormed through. Even the gifted security guards were startled, though they had all been expecting him. Without hesitation Dean stormed over to Sister Naomi.
“Where is he? Where’s Sam?”
“Calm down, Dean, I can assure you that Sam is fine. He’s just a little shaken up,” the dark-haired physician returned calmly.
“I need to see him. Now,” the teenager gritted out, and the chairs in the waiting area all slid forward a quarter inch, eliciting a few gasps. One of the security guards moved towards Dean but was stayed by Sister Naomi’s look in his direction.
“Of course, but I will ask you again to calm yourself, Dean. This isn’t helping your brother,” she intoned coolly, and after another fiery glare Dean’s eyes closed and he nodded. His shoulders dropped and the relief he felt from the doctor and guards made him feel a bit dizzy. He steeled himself for more strong emotions as he followed the Paragon doctor to one of the exam rooms. Then his brother was all he could see, Sam’s eyes large and wet, his pale skin emphasizing the bruise on his cheek. Dean’s hand cupped the younger boy’s neck as he gave him a quick once over, not seeing any other injuries.
“You okay, Sammy?” Dean asked softly, and his brother nodded, but Dean could feel how upset and shocked his brother was and glared at the doctor. “What the hell happened?”
“Brother Zachariah will be here shortly to explain everything,” Sister Naomi said, and for the first time he felt nervousness from the usually cold-hearted doctor. Dismissing her as useless he turned back to his brother.
“Sammy, you can tell me,” he cajoled, and his brother grasped at his hand, the story spilling out immediately.
“It was Anselm. He tried to kill Andy and Tracy. I tried to stop him, Dean, but he was so strong and he was in my head and it hurt so much!” Sam whispered.
Dean didn’t doubt his brother but he was dumbfounded. Anselm was Andy’s half-brother but the two weren’t close like he was with Sam. Anselm and Andy had been generally kept from each other and encouraged not to bond from the moment they’d arrived at the A.P. Other than that he didn’t know much about Andy’s brother, he’d heard praise for his gifts but little about him personally. Anselm was a Three, he could influence thoughts like his brother, had telekinesis like Dean and could freeze things with touch.
He knew about Tracy, however, she was a shy One from Sam’s class whose gift was that she could consciously improve or worsen the moods of people around her. Relationships of any kind were discouraged at The A.P. and so Andy and Tracy were keeping their new budding romance quiet.
“Where is Anselm now?” Dean’s voice promised murder, but Sam just bleakly shook his head.
“He’s dead. One of the guards, I think. Or maybe it was me. Or maybe it was Andy. It was really hard to think,” Sam said thickly, and Dean saw the signs of his migraine in the squint of his eyes. His head whipped around to pin Sister Naomi with his gaze.
“He’s got a migraine, did you give him anything for that?” Before the doctor could answer, Brother Zachariah entered the room with Brother Castiel and Sister Hannah trailing behind.
“She will, but I asked her to wait until we had a chance to talk. I’ve just talked to Andrew and Tracy, and they are going to be just fine, aren’t they, Sister Naomi?”
“They’re okay?” Sam confirmed weakly, and Dean glowered realizing that they hadn’t even bothered to let his brother know that before.
“They’re fine, just unsettled, much like you, Samuel. What happened was very disturbing, and rest assured that we are going to get to the bottom of it. What happened with Anselm was unforeseen. Sister Josephine noted that Anselm was having difficulties adjusting to his life here but even she didn’t realize how unstable he was. It was a tragedy, but we’re just glad that everyone’s okay.”
“Anselm’s dead,” Sam said shortly, and Brother Zachariah’s smug smile faltered momentarily.
“Yes, of course. As I said, tragic,” he added dismissively. “The thing is, boys, outside of the people in this room, and Tracy and...and Andrew, no one really needs to know about this. I’ve spoken to the guards and they know not to say anything. I want both of you to give me your word that you’ll do the same.”
Dean and Sam looked at each other. They were under no illusions that if they did not agree they would not be leaving the infirmary this evening. Dean looked across at Brother Castiel, who was frowning at Brother Zachariah. Dean could feel his distress almost over Sam’s and his own. The dark-haired man met Dean’s gaze meaningfully for a moment before breaking eye contact and looking to the ground.
“Of course, Brother Zach,” Dean drawled back to Zachariah, and Sam echoed him softly, closing his eyes tight against the pain in his skull. Dean squeezed his brother’s hand in sympathy. “Think Sammy here can get hooked up on the good stuff now?”
The older man gave them a shark-like grin, benevolent with getting his way.
“Of course, of course, Sister Naomi, if you would be so kind?” As the doctor moved to start an I.V. for the younger Winchester, the bald Paragon muttered to his counterparts, being careful not to be overheard. “It’s a shame about those headaches the boy gets, not much market for a Vessel with that sort of issue. Still, he’s a powerful mind reader from all accounts, we might be able to get a good price in the overseas market.”
“He’s only just turned twelve, you can’t-” Brother Castiel growled hotly, cut off by both Sister Hannah’s hand on his arm and the older man’s glare.
“I don’t think you’re in a position to determine that, Brother Castiel. Remember what’s at stake,” Brother Zachariah hissed, then sighed. “But you’re right, he’s still very young, he might lose the headaches or get some more useful gifts before we had to decide.” They left the room without noticing how Sam had grown paler, his knuckles white in his angry brother’s grip.
That was the night they began to plan their escape.
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October 10, 1996 - The Angel Program Special Kids Facility
The Paragon doctor who went by Brother Castiel found Dean Winchester in his dorm room. The teenager was supposed to be in class, but anyone who knew Dean would not look for him there. The kitchens had been his first stop, then the gym. The object of his search was curled up on his bed, studiously writing something in a notebook that the scientist would be willing to bet had nothing to do with school.
“Dean,” he greeted, and the boy jumped, hastily putting the notebook under his pillow. It saddened him that Dean could not trust him with the thoughts he had just put down, but it was probably for the best.
“Seriously, Cas, I like you, but no more tests,” Dean groaned, seeing the needle in the doctor’s hand. “I’m like a pin cushion, dude.” Brother Castiel paused. He supposed he had been rather single-minded in his pursuit of his research lately; he tended to focus on his work and forget the human element. Sam Winchester had expressed a similar sentiment when he’d approached him after lunch, but had acquiesced with little complaint. Dean, he knew from experience, would need more persuading to be pliable.
“I am sorry, I know it is unpleasant, but you and your brother are...different. The others are not like you and Sam, Dean. They don’t question. They don’t rebel.”
“You say that like it’s a bad thing, Cas,” Dean teased, but his expression was thoughtful and serious in a way that few at the Program other than Castiel probably knew could be.
“I need to know what makes you different. If I could replicate that...if the others were like you...maybe...”
“Maybe what? Cas, what do you think would happen?” Dean asked, almost gentle. “Look, Sammy and I may not completely toe the line but in the end it’s not gonna make a difference. You know what we’ve been doing for the past few years, him and me? Looking for a way out of this place. You know what we’ve come up with?”
“Nothing. There is no escape,” Castiel said hollowly. Dean grinned but there was no amusement in it.
“Exactly. So we do what we do, but at the end of the day, whatever’s happening to these other poor schmucks? When I turn eighteen it’s gonna happen to me, and that’s only a few months away. If you think drawing more blood and doing more tests is gonna fix that, then I’m all yours. Otherwise, I thought I might shock Brother Bartholomew by showing up in class.” The dark-haired man frowned, confused.
“You are not in Brother Bartholomew’s class this term.”
“I know. Fifty bucks says he screams like a girl,” Dean grinned, then turned back just before leaving the room. “You know, Cas, it’s not really the kids here that need to question and rebel.”
Castiel sank slowly onto the bunk that Dean had just left. Dean was right, of course, but he couldn’t understand what he was asking. He reached under the boy’s pillow, fingering the dog-eared notebook but not opening it. The Winchesters were a puzzle and he needed to solve it; maybe if he could he would find his own strength to rebel as well.
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November 17, 1996 - The Angel Program Special Kids Facility
As they had for as long as they’d known each other, Sam sat with Andy Gallagher at lunch. The facility normally would move children they saw pairing up regularly, but thanks to Andy’s low key personality and his ability to influence the thoughts of others, no one seemed to notice or care that the two boys were fast friends and lunch partners. Andy told Sam it was because they couldn’t really see Andy most of the time, so they never recognized the pattern. Sam didn’t care how it happened, he was just glad he got to be with his friend.
Room assignments were a trickier thing. The dorms had six students to a room, co-ed for the younger kids and separated by gender around ten or eleven. The kids expected to change rooms and roommates once every couple of months. Sam had last had Andy as his roommate only four months ago, so he was overjoyed to see him listed on the latest roster assignment as his bunkmate. The smile on Andy’s face when he found him was anything but innocent.
“Andy, what did you do?” Sam asked softly as soon as they’d entered their room. There was a special kid who had extraordinary hearing but she was not assigned to their dorm, he was as certain as he could be that they wouldn’t be overheard. His friend’s grin widened smugly.
“Okay, you know Charlie Bradbury, your brother’s friend? She got this idea, and so we decided to take it for a spin. She and I wandered into the Paragon offices, and now it seems the computer’s got a little glitch that’ll pair us as bunkmates, like, every time. Charlie also assigned empty beds to our room but that’s only gonna be good till the next rotation. Still, for the next eight weeks it’s just you and me, dude.”
“They let Charlie near the computers?” Sam asked, awe and scepticism in his tone. Andy shrugged nonchalantly.
“Well, I told them it was okay. And then I told them to forget about it and Charlie futzed the video camera, so I think we’re cool. We’d probably know already if we weren’t.” One of the things that Sam loved about his friend was how he managed to bounce back from everything from his own brother going crazy and trying to kill him to his difficult breakup with Tracy. Sam did his best to listen to his friend and not invade his privacy. Andy’s mind was open to Sam like most others, but Sam found reading deep into people was kind of like entering a carnival fun house. It was like a rush of adrenaline, but also scary and dizzying, so he rarely did more than skim surface thoughts.
“This is amazing, Andy. Thank you, I’ll have to thank Charlie too if I can.”
“Hey, it’s good for me, too, dude. Plus I know you haven’t been sleeping so great lately, though a little extra quiet couldn’t hurt.” Dean and Sam had agreed that they could trust Charlie and Andy with the truth about their powers a while back. Still Sam was surprised Andy could tell he was having nightmares and not visiting other’s dreams. As if he’d asked the question, Andy added. “Dude, when you’re dream walking you’re totally zen, you don’t even move. Your last roommates were bitching to everyone that would listen how you were keeping them awake tossing and turning.”
“Yeah,” Sam sighed, sinking onto the lower bunk. “I’ve been having this nightmare about Dean. I think it’s because his birthday’s so close.”
“What do you think’s gonna happen?” Andy asked, concerned for both his friends. Sam rubbed at his forehead. He felt a tingle at the back of his skull and hoped it wasn’t another migraine. He could tell something was different.
“I don’t know, that’s the thing. Dean said he’s gonna try to get on with security, but they usually pick their own candidates. I just...I don’t...ahhh!” Sam cried out as a blinding flash made him close his eyes. It was like dreaming while he was awake; scenes played out almost faster than he could process them:
FLASH: Brother Zachariah is talking to Dean; his brother’s look wary and resigned. Brother Zachariah smiles at this brother, saying, “So what do you think Dean? I’ll be your Angel, you’ll be my Vessel?” Dean looks sick as he agrees.
FLASH: His brother slouching in someone’s arms, somehow unable to use his powers. Zachariah towering over him, smiling. “Ah, Dean, you don’t know how long I’ve waited for this.”
FLASH: Dean barely conscious, hooked to some machine, his eyes pleading. Brother Zachariah hooked to the same machine, smiling, triumphant. He’s won and they both know it.
FLASH: Brother Zachariah’s body slumps. Dead. Empty. Dean’s eyes open. He smiles, but it’s Zachariah’s twisted smile. His brother is gone.
Sam’s eyes shot open as he swallowed his scream with the bile that’s crept up his throat. Andy clasped his arm, as close to freaking out as Sam had ever seen him.
“Sam! Are you alright? Ah, God, no, you’re bleeding!” Sam felt his head tilted back as Andy smeared under his nose with a tissue; red wetness dampening the white paper. Sam struggled to focus, shoving down the overwhelming fear. “I need to get you to the infirmary,” he hears Andy say and he clutches his friend’s arm, shaking his head.
“No, no infirmary. Just Dean. Get Dean for me, Andy, please.”
“Alright, dude. Just, are you gonna be okay here alone? You’re not gonna have a seizure or, or vomit or something?” Despite the spike of pain in his head and the terror gripping his chest, Sam manages a pained smile.
“I promise, man. Dean’s...shit I don’t know where he is right now...”
“It’s okay, Sam, lie back, I’ll get him, Sam, it’s gonna be okay,” Andy soothed. After a moment he heard Andy’s footsteps moving away and Sam realized he’d closed his eyes again. He half-sobbed as he reclined against the bed, his legs still dangling off the end.
“It’s not gonna be okay,” he whispered to himself. He knew now that this was a new power, that the nightmares had had been having were somehow visions of the future. His brother was going to be gone, not just leaving him but completely gone, and an evil man would be wearing him like some kind of...suit.
They were running out of time.
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November 19, 1996 - The Angel Program Special Kids Facility
Brother Castiel looked up in surprise as Dean Winchester unceremoniously barged into his office, a security guard at his heels. Quickly waving the guard away, letting him know it was alright, he frowned at the young man who was agitated enough that the researcher had a passing fear for the state of his lab.
“Dean? I wasn’t expecting you. I’m still working with the last samples.”
“Screw your samples, Cas. And screw you for acting like you care about me or Sam or any of the kids here. You know what happens to them.” Castiel fumbled with his research notes as an excuse to not look into that knowing, accusing gaze.
“I’m not sure...”
“The Vessels. They aren’t being mentored; they’re being fattened up for the slaughter. For when their benefactor decides they’d like to wear their spankin’ new super powered body.”
“Oh God...how...?”
“How is right? How can you do that, Cas? Don’t pretend you didn’t know, Sammy read you, Doctor Novak. Or would you rather I call you Jimmy?” As the Paragon doctor paled with realization, Dean continued unhappily, “Right, so don’t lie to me now.”
“I will not lie, Dean, not anymore.” He met the boy’s defiant gaze forcefully. “You trusted me enough to confront me with the truth. You trusted that I wouldn’t just go straight to Brother Zachariah and have you and your brother killed. Trust me enough to let me explain.”
“Must be one hell of an explanation.”
“Frankly, it’s not. There are no words to justify what I’ve done. But I can do one right thing, and that’s to help you get out of here before...”
“Before Brother Zachariah plays body snatcher with me? Yeah, we got that memo too,” Dean snorted bitterly. Castiel put his hands on the teenager’s shoulders.
“I won’t let it happen, Dean.”
“You think you can stop it?” Dean snorted, but Castiel could see how desperate he was to believe it.
“I think we can stop it. I know we must try.”
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January 3, 1997 - The Angel Program Special Kids Facility
“Dean, might I have a word?” At the sound of the unctuous Paragon, Dean froze and waved Charlie on towards their other classmates. The redhead looked doubtful but trailed away. He turned back to the other man with a sunny fake smile.
“’Course, Brother Zach. I imagine you can have as many words as you want. Head honcho and all.”
“Ah, yes, you are the droll one,” Brother Zachariah responded blandly, but Dean could see him gritting his teeth just a little and mentally pencilled in a point. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you. I was wondering if you’d been giving any thought to your future. Your time in our little program is almost up, isn’t it...let’s see, your eighteenth birthday would be...” Dean schooled his expression carefully; he knew the sonavabitch knew exactly when his birthday was.
“Three weeks.”
Brother Zachariah’s eyebrows rose in mock surprise.
“So soon. So I’m assuming you’ve made some plans.”
“I’m waiting to hear back from security,” Dean said noncommittally, not adding that he was sure Brother Uriel was stalling. “But if that’s not in the cards, I’m sure I can go stay with Bobby Singer. Sure he’s had it rough since Aunt Karen died, but he won’t turn me away. He’ll keep me outta trouble. I figure that’s what you do with most of the folks like me, the ones without a lot of mojo.” Dean gave his practiced innocent look, but he knew he wasn’t as good at the puppy eyes as his brother.
“Hmmm,” Brother Zachariah hummed noncommittally. “Well, I have another option I’d like you to consider. As you may or may not know, some of the elite members of the Order of Paragons also can mentor students following their time here. I’ve been watching you, Dean, for a long time. I think you have untapped potential and I’d like to be your mentor. So what do you think Dean? I’ll be your Angel, you’ll be my Vessel?” He leaned in conspiratorially. “I bet your brother would love getting to keep you around, am I right?”
Anger flashed through Dean at the blatant manipulation, and nausea at the confirmation of his brother’s vision, but Dean hid his true thoughts behind an insincere grin.
“What can I say? Sounds like a match made in heaven.”
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Journal entry by Dean Winchester, decoded
January 3, 1997
Dear Sammy,
Damn but it happened just like you said it would. Zachariah wants wear me and my powers like a meat suit. I told him I’d need a little time to think about it but I was definitely interested, but we need to move up Operation ‘Escape from Alcatraz.’ I’m headed for bed, you know what to do.
Dean
P.S. It’s my plan and that’s the name, so shut it.
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January 4, 1997 - Inside Dean’s Dream
Dreams were both the best and worst places to plan things. Best, because no one else at the Program had Sam’s dream walking gift and so they had zero chance of being overheard and could talk things through completely, working through every possible scenario they could think of. Worst because while Sam had conscious control of his dream self, they were still at the mercy of Dean’s subconscious, which meant that they both had to learn to ignore random things that popped into the dream like naked girls (harder for Dean) and purple llamas (harder for Sam, because why llamas, Dean? And why purple?)
“You’re sure that Brother Castiel can be trusted? He’s been part of it all from the beginning,” Sam challenged. He liked Castiel, but he’d felt sick when he’d read the man and knew how deeply he was truly involved in what was happening. Even though Sam knew Castiel’s reasons, he couldn’t help but be wary of what might happen if the man had to choose between Dean and his own interests.
“If we can help him get his daughter out he will turn himself in and tell everything, Sam, he promised me and I believe him. Okay?” Dean said in his best big brother ‘end of discussion ‘ voice. At his brother’s reluctant nod, he continued, “Cas gave me what Charlie is gonna need for her part, but you’re gonna have to get into Brother Zachariah’s office while I go off hunting. Cas thinks he knows where we need to go but it’s restricted access, alarms and guards and I’m gonna need Charlie’s help. That means she can’t be with you at Zach’s computer. You and Andy up for that?”
“Yeah, I think so, but...we have to be sure, Dean. If everything doesn’t go right…” Sam trailed off, and Dean observed how stricken his brother looked.
“It’ll be okay, Sammy. I promise you, this is gonna work.”
“But what if it doesn’t? You don’t understand, Dean, I saw it. If we mess up, you’ll be gone.”
Both boys felt ill at the thought, but Dean rallied.
“Hey. Hey, Sammy. Look at me. It won’t happen. Cas will come through for us and we’ll all get out together. You, me, Andy, Charlie, Claire and Cas.”
“And Doc Jody.”
“Whoa, hang on, man, since when is Sister Josephine part of the Scooby Gang?”
“We have to help her too,” Sam mulishly asserted. “They’re blackmailing her just like Cas, and she doesn’t even know about the Vessel thing.”
“How are they blackmailing the doc?”
“Her husband was a reporter, he found out the truth and was set to expose the Angel Program when they killed him. They killed her son, Owen, just to make sure she knew they were serious but they’re holding her daughter Annie and she’s still alive. That’s how they forced Doc Jody to become a Paragon.”
“She told you all this?”
“Most of it I read from her, but she confirmed it’s all true. Dean, I think Annie is being kept with Claire Novak, I think some others. I think I saw it, Dean. One of my visions was of Charlie and Andy and me and Doc Jody with some kids I don’t know, but...but I didn’t see you or Cas,” he added shamefaced. Dean gave his brother a quick one-armed hug.
“Hey, you did good little brother. You can’t control these visions, right? It ain’t like the dream walking.”
“I know, but I won’t be able to help you.”
“I won’t get caught, Sammy. And Cas will be with me. We’re all getting out of here, and then we’re gonna bring this whole damned crazy conspiracy to an end.”
“How?”
“Cas’ needles, Charlie’s technowhatzit, a little acting from you, some of Andy’s mojo and a whole lot of my general awesomeness, bitch.” The familiar taunt had the desired effect as Sam rolled his eyes, trying not to smile.
“Whatever. Jerk.”
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January 5, 1997 - The Angel Program Special Kids Facility
Any hopes that Sister Naomi might have had for a calm and quiet first week of the new year were shattered when the first vomiting child showed up at her door. That was at nine in the morning; by ten every bed in the infirmary was filled and half of them were occupied by security guards. Brother Nathaniel grimaced as he lifted a bucket that was already full from the moaning patients surrounding them.
“What do you think this is, Sister?”
“Food poisoning would be my best guess. I don’t know a virus that could spread this fast, and most everyone here ate breakfast at first shift this morning.” She sighed. “That probably means more are coming in, and the beds here are all full. I’m gonna need gurneys in the hallways, and more buckets.”
“Sister Naomi?” a pathetic voice spoke from behind her, one that she knew all too well, and it was only her professional manner that kept her from groaning. This was the last thing she needed right now.
“Sam Winchester. Another migraine?” she huffed as she turned to him. It wasn’t a guess. While the child looked as nauseous as her other patients, the pain-filled squinted eyes were a dead giveaway. “This is a bad time right now, Sam, as you can see. I’ll give you your meds, but you’ll have to go back to the dorm to sleep it off.”
“He can’t do that, Sister,” said the young man who she hadn’t noticed before, the one who appeared to be holding her patient steady. He looked familiar but she couldn’t quite place the name. Adam...Randy...no, but it was on the tip of her tongue. She didn’t have time for these games, she thought as she frowned at the boy.
“He has to, young man,” she severely affirmed. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed but we’re in something of a crisis this morning.”
“But he needs peace and quiet to rest, Sister. The dorms are too bright and noisy, he’ll get worse.” The doctor sighed, she hadn’t thought of that but this boy...Allen was right, of course, but she didn’t have another solution to offer. Arrival of another groaning guard briefly distracted her, but once the man was lying on a gurney with his own basin clutched in his arms, she felt a tug at her elbow.
“Maybe he can just rest in one of the offices no one’s using,” Sam’s friend Sandy offered guilelessly. Sister Naomi nodded at the solution. Of course, there was probably some rule against that, but if someone got mad they could complain about it later. “Fine, let me just get you an escort.” Her eyes scanned the chaos of her infirmary for anyone not helping or sick, but the boy tugged at her once more.
“I can take him, I know the way,” Ashley offered, and she sighed with relief. Sam’s young friend really was a Godsend today.
“Fine, go, just do not disturb any of the work of the Paragons,” she admonished gruffly. As the two boys moved away, she nodded to herself. More of these children should be helpful like that boy...Riley. Yes, that was it.
It wouldn’t be until much later that she’d realize she had never given Sam Winchester any medication.
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“You know what to do?” Dean asked Charlie softly as they crouched out of camera view. Charlie nodded.
“Kill the alarm. Go to the rendezvous spot. Walk the boys through the computer stuff.”
“Exactly, and then you wait,” Dean added sternly. “You don’t leave that spot, you don’t come looking for me, no matter what. Got it?” His friend gave him a sloppy kiss on the cheek, followed by a sloppier salute.
“Aye, aye, Captain,” she said, and he cupped her cheek.
“Hey, Red, thanks for making me be your best friend,” Dean called to her, and Charlie mock glared at him, tears glittering.
“Shut up, Dean Winchester, I’ll kick your ass if you make me cry,” she protested, and Dean flashed her a quick grin, getting back to business with a deep breath. “Okay, on my mark...kill it.”
Charlie’s nose scrunched up as she reached her senses out to the nearby technology. Over the year she’d perfected her mindless drone impersonation, enough that the Paragons had eventually gotten lax about letting her around their electronics. Today was the day that particular chicken was coming home to Mama. Dean was looking at her strangely, and she blushed as she realized she’d projected that thought into his head accidentally. Wishing him a silent good luck, she backed away as he slipped through the door.
Neither of them saw Brother Zachariah emerge from his hiding place. He smiled to himself, he had been waiting for years for Winchester to make his move, to reveal all his co-conspirators. He couldn’t wait to let the boy know that Brother Castiel had come to him, revealed the boy’s plan to escape with the Bradbury girl’s help. He’d get security to grab the girl after he had the Winchester boy in hand; no point in tipping his hand and letting Winchester escape. Sister Hester in tech support was looking a little long in the tooth, maybe he’d offer the girl to her as a reward for the extra work she’d done encrypting his files. Any attempt to tamper with or copy files from his computer now would cause them to automatically be deleted; a fact only the two of them knew.
He would make sure Dean knew all of this before he took over his Vessel. He wanted to see the defeat, to read the failure in those eyes before they became his own.
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“Okay, so what do we do?” Sam asked aloud, and Andy shrugged.
“She gave us a disk, don’t we just put it in the computer and it does the rest?”
“That should do it,” Charlie’s voice sounded in their heads, making them both jump. Andy looked over his shoulder. I’m not there, morons, I’m listening to you over the bugs Zachariah had in his office, paranoid freak.”
“Cool, ‘paranoid freak’ works for us for once,” Andy grinned. Sam nodded and took a deep breath, inserting the floppy disk into the drive.
“Here goes nothing,” he breathed. The cursor on the screen blinked at him for a moment, then suddenly words and symbols began scrolling up the screen faster than he could keep track of them. “I think it’s working.”
“Of course it’s working, Charlie’s awesome,” Andy said loyally, punching his friend in the shoulder. Sam stared at the screen, willing the program to work quickly.
“Aw, flatterer,” Charlie purred in her friend’s head. Sam’s gasp got their attention.
“Something’s wrong. Charlie, it’s deleting files.”
“What? Crap. I need to...dammit, I need to see what you’re seeing.”
Andy grabbed Sam’s arm, his expression scared but determined.
“Me. Use me. Charlie, when you send to me, try to project your power too. Sam, you reach in and grab it from me.”
“We can’t do that, Andy,” Sam protested. “We can’t combine our powers, and even if we could what’ll that do to you?”
“I think we can. I’ll be fine, Sam.” Seeing Sam’s worried gaze, Andy shook his head. “It doesn’t matter, we’re running out of time and we’ve got to at least try. I could push you to do this, Sam, but you’re my friend and I won’t. Just, please. If we don’t do this now...”
“He’s right, we don’t have any other options.” Charlie agreed, sounding as nervous as Sam felt. He took a deep breath and blew it out as he gave in.
“Okay, okay. Charlie, you ready?”
“Um...very much no, but here goes nothing.”
Sam let his mind breach Andy’s, reaching through the familiar Andy-ness of his surface thoughts looking for something that was more...Charlie. When he thought he’d found what he was looking for, he pulled and held. Next thing he knew his fingers were flying over the keyboard like an extension of his mind, the bits of code he needed to find shone like a beacon. He could hear Andy and Charlie laughing and his head was spinning, dizzy as he pulled the disk out and immediately let go what he’d taken from his friends. He laid his head down on the desk, unable to move for a second.
“Whoa, head rush,” Andy moaned. “Did we get it done?”
“I think so. Charlie, you still with us?”
“I’m here. I might have fainted all over Sister Josephine for a second, but I’m okay. That was unreal.
Sam breathed a sigh of relief and picked up the disk.
“You wait with Doc Jody, we’ll meet you in a few. It’s up to Dean and Cas now.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Dean crouched in the trees nervously. This building was on the farthest edge of the compound, and so the one most likely to hold anything someone didn’t want found. Avoiding the guards hadn’t been easy, but a TK rustle of bushes on the opposite side had cleared him a usable path. With exaggerated caution he emerged and crept to the door, mentally feeling his way around the lock. While it would have been more satisfying to blast the door open, announcing his presence that way didn’t seem like the best way to go.
Hearing the click of the lock, he eased the door open and entered a room that was nearly pitch dark. He cursed aloud, feeling along the wall for a light switch of any kind as he berated himself aloud for not thinking to appropriate a flashlight. Suddenly the lights flared on and he staggered, sightless in the flood of light, hearing the sound of footsteps and the sound of someone slowly clapping. As his eyes adjusted, he saw Brother Zachariah standing before him. The room was cavernous, with gray industrial walls that were rigged with cameras and a large movie screen hung across the back wall like it was a theatre. There was a strange humming sound that echoed off the walls which initially made it difficult for Dean to pinpoint the source until his eyes fell on the machine with its chairs and wires. Dean blanched as he recognized it from his brother’s description of his vision. This was the device that had killed him. Or was going to kill him. Fuck, this whole thing was confusing.
“So nice of you to join us, Dean,” the villainous man purred. “It’s been so much fun watching you play your little prisoner escape game today, we’ve identified many holes in security that I have every intention of addressing with the staff, so you have my thanks for that. But I’m afraid it’s time to bring this charade to a close.” Brother Zachariah gestured towards a shadowy corner behind Dean. “Brother Castiel, if you would be so kind.”
The younger Paragon quickly moved towards Dean, not meeting his furious glare. The needle in his hand gleamed and Dean reared back, preparing to TK him into the wall.
“Uh-uh-uh, Dean, you don’t want to do that,” the bald man tutted in a sing-song voice, and the screen on the back wall suddenly lit up to show him his brother, huddled with Andy, Charlie and Jody and looking afraid. The security guards that held them were out of view, but their guns were more than evident. “That’s right, Cas alerted Talley and Wilson exactly where your friends would be. Fortunately for me they didn’t eat your poison breakfast this morning. I must say I’m sad to see Jody go,” he mused as if she was a co-worker taking a new position, “but she was never really a team player, you know? Didn’t ever get with the program. Hah, the Program, right?”
Dean made a strangled sound and stepped towards Zachariah but was stopped by Cas’ arm around his throat, the needle immediately plunging into his neck. The doctor grabbed Dean’s shoulders as he slumped, blinking slowly.
“I’m sorry, Dean,” Cas said solemnly as Dean shook his head.
“Why?” Dean whispered, his tone and body language defeated.
“Because Cas understands, Dean. He’s responsible for everything we’ve accomplished here, and he should reap the rewards. All you can offer him is a prison cell, but what I can offer him is so much more. Now that we’ve proved to our backers what the Vessels he created can do. We’re going to be able to provide immortality in superhuman bodies to the gods of industry, of finance, the highest elite who can afford the very best. We have created God, and he is us,” Zachariah intoned with the passion of madness. He came up to Dean, leaning over him in triumph. “You are a good looking young man and I am so going to enjoy having your body. Ah, Dean, you don’t know how long I’ve waited for this.” Dean blinked up at him, despair suddenly giving way to a bright grin.
“Me, too,” he said as he reached forward, mentally straining in a way he hadn’t since the fire when he was ten. Crushing the machine wasn’t as bad as knocking down a wall and he had grown considerably in power since then. Brother Zachariah screeched in rage, then spoke into his radio.
“Talley, Wilson, kill them all. I repeat, kill them all now!”
“Yes, sir,” came a woman’s voice over the radio as Brother Zachariah felt himself lifted into the air. He screamed as the radio was ripped from his hand and as he sailed across the room. Cas put his hand on Dean’s arm.
“Dean, don’t.”
Dean gritted his teeth and shook his head.
“He doesn’t deserve mercy, Cas.”
“No,” Cas agreed bitterly, “But now isn’t the time.”
“Fine,” Dean sighed. “But I hate that I’m not gonna be the one who gets to kill this sonnavabitch you know.”
With that he knocked them man’s head almost gently against the wall, just enough impact to knock him unconscious for a few hours. Centering himself, Dean morphed his form into a duplicate of the hated Paragon, giving a quick turn.
“Well? Do I look like a rat bastard?”
“You do indeed. It’s fascinating, I wish I had another needle so I could take a sample,” the rebelling Paragon confirmed with amusement. He picked up the radio that Zachariah had been holding, brushing it off and handing it to the disguised teenager.
“Talley, Wilson, report,” Dean barked into the com, getting back only static. He waited a beat, then added. “Status of prisoners, report!”
“The prisoners have all been dealt with,” was the response on the line, but Dean sagged in relief as the voice was Charlie Bradbury’s. “The packages have also been picked up and are waiting for you, sir.”
“Excellent work,” Dean intoned, shivering at the sound of the Paragon’s voice coming from his own mouth. “Meet us in ten.”
“Did that mean what I hope it meant?” Cas breathed, and Dean grinned at him.
“They’ve got them. Let’s get out of here before this asshole is missed, we have one more thing to do before we blow this joint.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
January 24, 1997 - Lawrence, Kansas
Harlan Brass sat up in bed, the dream he had just awakened from leaving him confused and somewhat out of sorts. In the years since that fire, his thoughts had occasionally strayed to the fate of those two boys, but time and work and his growing family had distracted him enough that he had mostly forgotten. Then tonight the younger Winchester boy had shown up in his dream, only in his dream he had become a gangly teenager. Probably what the boy was now, Harlan mused. The kid in his dream had made hellish claims about the Angel Program, given location coordinates in latitude and longitude and some weird letter combination that he said was a website address where other information was kept. The officer knew next to nothing about the internet, he couldn’t fathom why he would dream about that nonsense. Still, his first impulse upon waking was to scratch down the strange numbers and letters on the notepad he kept by the bedside phone.
“Daddy?” came a high pitched voice, and his older daughter Maureen wandered into the room, rubbing her bright blue eyes. He gathered her to him in a hug.
“What’s the matter, baby, you had a bad dream?” The little girl shook her head, frowning.
“No, daddy, but I saw a boy, and his name was Sam, and he was sad because the bad men had hurt him.”
Harlan froze, his heart in his throat.
“A boy named Sam?”
His daughter nodded, yawning.
“Sam Winchester, daddy. Can we help him?”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
May 31, 1997 - Sioux Falls, South Dakota
“Sam sent that dream to everyone who was asleep for a hundred miles around, I’m told. It scared the crap out of people, but it got the word out. Maybe a week later, Dr Novak’s confession and all the information with it arrived at the Times, about the same time he turned himself in, and well, here we all are.”
“And...that’s it?” Henriksen asks when it’s clear that the junkyard owner is done talking. “That’s everything?”
“Pretty much. I mean, I can guess some more of it. Pretty sure that Brother Zachariah started the fire that killed John and Mary Winchester. Don’t have any proof of that, but if you check the logs I think you’ll find a couple of those kids were fire starters, could have done it easy. I think the Winchesters were just a loose end for him. Dean and Sam escaping the way they did, probably just a bonus. Except for the part when they brought him down, of course.” Singer shrugs as the dog barks softly. He reaches down to scratch its mangy head as he adds. “Settle down there, Jinxie. That’s just speculation, though, of course. No one knows that for sure.”
“How did they get the prisoners free, do you suppose?” Henriksen offers mildly. Singer leans back, pondering the question.
“Annie Mills said in interviews she was being held in a secret subbasement, only the head honcho and a few of his trusted minions even knew about it. Apparently the building blueprints and admittance codes were what those boys were getting from that monster’s computer. She said the guards let ‘em walk them right out, accepted a blank piece of paper as Brother Zachariah’s authorization,” Singer chuckles to himself, shaking his head. “I expect that was Andy Gallagher’s doing.”
“Gallagher and Bradbury, they were on the list of those missing after the riot,” Reidy states boldly, and they watch the man stiffen in surprise and probably anger. “Sam and Dean, they were responsible for that riot?”
“Didn’t your own investigators say they believed they were long gone when that happened?” the man responds caustically, and Reidy visibly backs down. The dog whines as Singer sighs, shakes his head. “Look, if they had Zachariah’s big villain speech recorded, they could have wanted to let the other kids know they were being used. You’ve spoken to Novak I’m sure, or at least read his letter. Evidence from the horse’s mouth I think they hoped would help break the control those people had on those kids. So if they found some way to get that message to play for everyone, then they would’ve. I don’t think they knew what was going to happen, Sam’s visions didn’t play on demand. They wouldn’t regret that Brother Zachariah being ripped apart the way he was, but the others that were hurt, I know Sam and Dean didn’t want that.” The dog whines again, responding to the sad tone of voice. Singer cleared his throat. “So that’s it. I’m done talking. The best I can promise you is that if I do hear from the boys, I’ll make sure they know you want to talk to them. I know you think that’s crap, but that’s all I can give you. So, you can arrest me, or you can leave my property. Choice is yours.”
“Just two more questions, Mr. Singer, and we’ll leave you alone,” Henriksen said, the ‘for now’ not spoken but heard nonetheless. “What do you think the Paragons were doing with those other children, the ones who couldn’t handle their powers or the ones who weren’t powerful enough to suit their purposes?”
“I understand there’s a whole lot of woods around that property, Agent. I think I’ll let you draw your own conclusions, I’ve certainly drawn mine. What’s your other question?”
“When did Sam and Dean tell you all this?” Henriksen asks, and the man on the porch smiles enigmatically.
“Never said they did, agents. Just said I’d talk to you about all this, and I believe I’ve done all of that I’m gonna do. You all drive safe and don’t hurry back, I won’t be so talkative the next time we meet.”
With the mournful howl of the dog echoing in their ears, the two men nod their goodbyes to the man on the porch. Reidy looked at his partner side-eyed as he drives them off the property.
“Vic, you know Singer knows where they are, right?”
“Oh, he knows,” Henriksen drawls as he checks the mirror. Singer and his dog haven’t moved. “I don’t expect he’ll tell us, though, and if we keep harassing him those boys really will disappear.”
“So we’re leaving Mr. Singer alone, then,” Reidy sighs.
“For now. Just for now.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
From the porch, the man and the dog watch the black car until its tail lights are no longer visible, then wait another five minutes before their shapes change, revealing their true images. Dean looks down at his brother lying supine at his feet and bursts out laughing.
“It’s not funny, Dean,” Sam whines. “Why did you have to talk to them so long?”
“What?” Dean gives his brother a hand up and continues to chortle as his brother stretches and tries to brush off the dust and dirt. “I didn’t want them to come back. Unless you want to lie here every damn day. I was doing you a favor, dude.”
“Next time I don’t want to be the dog,” Sam grumbles.
“I told you man, it’s tricky to do if you aren’t touching me, and I can’t think of too many situations where two people are touching all the time that isn’t creepy for us, okay? It’s easier for me to do it if I’m Bobby and you’re Jinx the junkyard dog. Who, by the way, is probably more than ready to do his business out here, and you get to clean up the dog crap if he couldn’t hold it.”
“You wish, dude,” Sam snorts, then changes the subject. “When’s Bobby coming back?”
“Tomorrow night. Why?” Dean responds, and his brother grins mischievously.
“Because he’s gonna be pissed that you drank all his beer.” Dean looks at the empty cooler.
“Balls,” he says, imitating his surrogate father’s voice and causing his little brother to laugh. “Come on, dude, Andy said he and Charlie would call tonight, give us an update on Operation Robin Hood.” Off his brother’s disgusted look, he adds, “Hey. It’s my mission and that’s the name. So shut it.”
“I didn’t say anything, jerk,” Sam protests. Dean slings an easy arm over his shoulder.
“Your face said it all, bitch.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Exerpt from a letter, undated, received by the New York Times on January 31, 1997
My name was Dr. James Novak. I am currently known as Brother Castiel of the Order of Paragons.
I have done terrible things.
I began with the best of intentions. My research was intended only to find cures, to make things better. I created a serum that I believed would cure even the most incurable childhood cancers through a process of genetic modification. Then my funding was unexpectedly revoked and I couldn’t get clearance to even do preliminary trials. I met a man who told me he could get me all I needed to continue my research with no strings attached other than that I share my findings with his group.
Brother Zachariah lied to me, I knew he was lying because nothing in life comes without cost. I only cared about my research, and I thought the ends would justify the means.
If I claimed I had no idea that genetic mutations might result from my work, that too would be a lie. I thought the number would be small enough, and I thought those children would perish. Since the children we were testing would be nonviable anyway, I found that loss acceptable if I could cure the others. Of course I was overjoyed when the cure worked in 100% of the initial 20 subjects and none died. At least not at the time of treatment. I was so proud, so triumphant.
We kept monitoring the kids. Most of them healed quickly and were ready to resume normal lives, but there was one boy, Scott Carey, who quickly surpassed his previous physical abilities. He became stronger, faster, and more intelligent on every test. And then one day he touched one of the nurses on the arm and she suffered a severe electrical burn. His genes had continued to mutate, like something out of a comic book, I had inadvertently created a child with powers. I had never been so frightened.
I explained to Zachariah that we had to stop testing immediately and it was then that he told me about his plans and his benefactors. That the richest men and women of the country had found a way to transfer themselves - their minds, souls, essences, I’m not sure what would adequately describe it - into other people. They had found a way to basically cheat death. They wanted a population of healthy, fit, attractive young adults that they could use for this, and my serum would give them not only physical perfection but possibly superpowers as well. They wanted me to start using the serum not only on children who were ill but on healthy ones to try to force these genetic mutations. I initially refused and they had my wife killed and my daughter Claire taken. To keep her alive I had to not only let them have the serum, but help them with their goals. I will not say I had no choice, because I did. I chose to help them. Scott Carey was one of the first Vessels I witnessed being taken, and I will hear his screams as his essence was destroyed for the rest of my days.
Despite these horrors, I continued to administer the serum to new children, I helped separated the ones that had powers and allowed the most powerful of them to be taken as Vessels. I saw other children crumble as their minds couldn’t handle the power they’d been given. I saw so many killed and destroyed and I said and did nothing. I saw no other way to save my daughter. Not until I met Dean Winchester and his brother. They were defiant in a way none of the others had been. Their spirit and determination awakened something in me that I thought was dead. I do not know if you would call it hope, or conscience. Perhaps it is just a reminder of my own free will. Whatever it is, I am going to help them escape and together we will bring down this atrocity.
Below is a list of the names of all the ‘Angels’ as well as the ‘Vessels’ provided to them. If the person listed is known to be dead, know that they are almost certainly occupying their Vessel and proceed with caution. I wish no more deaths on my conscience then those we have already destroyed.
I cannot ask for mercy, only justice.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
THE END
Author’s Other Note: I took a few liberties, but this was the original prompt: scifi - Dean and Sam have grown up in a system since both their parents were murdered, when they were 10 and 6. Without them knowing they have been subjects in a test project to create the perfect being. Both brothers adapted to the treatments in similar and different ways. Their metal abilities increased and so did their psychical. Sam gained mind reading, dream walking and visions while Dean presented with empathy, telekinesis and adaptability (replicate anything you see)