Living for Giving the Devil his Due. Chapter 4/13
Title: Living for Giving the Devil his Due. Chapter 4/13
Author: Strangevisitor7
Fandom: Supernatural & Quantum Leap.
Characters: Dean Winchester & Admiral Al Calavicci.
Rated: Gen
Disclaimer: All things SPN belong to Eric Kripke, et al. All thing Quantum Leap belong to Donald P. Bellisario, et al..
Summary: Al talks to Dean. Dean’s sanity is questioned. A conversation in the waiting room
A/N: So that Sam Beckett had not been leaping in time for 25 years, I have adjusted the time line to match up better. Sam Beckett’s present is 2015 (this is where Al is) and he has been leaping around for 3 years before he lands in Dean Winchester
The other chapters are here:
Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9, Chapter 10, Chapter 11, Chapter 12, Chapter 13
Chapter 4: So, You Think You Can Tell Heaven From Hell
Al returned to the imaging chamber. After a quick consult with Ziggy and her handlers, he headed over to the adjoining room where Dean was being held.
“How’s he doing? And what is that noise?” Al stepped beside Gushie to peer into the waiting room.
“That’s Metallica, Admiral. He’s eating again. We sent in some fried chicken and more pie about 5 minutes ago. ”
Al watched Dean eat. The guy had a goofy grin of satisfaction on his face and the eating habits of a 4 year-old. He sure didn’t look dangerous, but then neither had Ted Bundy. “I’m going in.” The admiral turned and headed down the hallway with Gushie trailing behind.
“Actually, Sir, do you thinks that’s wise? He is a murderer.” Word of Dean’s misdeeds had obviously spread quickly throughout the staff.
“Ziggy needs to keep her mouth shut.” The admiral mumbled.
“At least take the marines inside with you.” Gushie gestured to the guards waiting in front of the waiting room door. “Captain Reynolds and I thought...” the nervous little man trailed off waiting for the inevitable blow-up from the Admiral.
“Gushie,” Al paused and patted the scientist on the back, “Good idea. Now, go turn off that music before I shoot someone, okay?”
Gushie nodded and ran back down the hall.
***********************************
Dean was on his feet and heading toward the sound the moment the low hiss started. He stopped short when he found himself face to face with two Marines and their weapons.
“Whoa, there fellows.” Dean held his hands up in mock surrender.
“Have a seat.” A man, with the ugliest tie Dean had ever seen, followed the marines into the room and sat at the desk.
“It’s about time someone showed up.” Dean lounged back onto the cot.“Where is that bitch from the crossroads? Thought for sure she’d be here gloating herself, not sending in her lackeys. You her pool boy or something?”
The confused look the guy threw at Dean made him question the whole hell thing again. Demons usually dressed better, sneered more and never looked confused. This guy had even been apologetic when he’d called off the Marines. Which begged the question, since when did demons use marine bodyguards?
“My name is Admiral Al Calavicci. I guess you’re wondering where you’re being held?” The admiral waited for Dean to respond. Dean figured that there was no sense in revealing anything, and just smirked like he knew exactly where he was.
“Or not,” continued the Admiral. “In that case, I’ll just get to the questions I need answered. What exactly are you dying of, because we cannot find any records of disease?”
Dean’s eyes narrowed. A demon would know his situation, and he was pretty sure aliens wouldn’t have played him Metallica. So that left abducted by the government. If this was the FBI, where was Hendrickson. Then again it didn’t really matter to Dean where that FBI prick was because he had very little time left. He’s only sorry he’d be too busy dying to see Hendrickson’s expression when the hellhounds arrived. “What makes you think I have a disease?”
“Sam said you were dying.”
Dean was off the bed like a shot, his hands encircling Al’s throat before the marines could react. “Where is Sam?” He growled.
Then the Marines were moving, wrestling him off Al and back on to the bed. “You get your filthy experimenting hands off of Sam, you son of a bitch. If you hurt him, I swear I will kill you.” Dean tried to shake off the marines but they wouldn’t budge. He needed to know if Sammy was okay, so he bit his tongue and apologized. “Sorry, man, sorry. Can you call off the muscle, please? I promise to stay put.”
Al nodded and the Marines moved away.
Dean figured begging might work. He didn’t have Sam’s puppy dog eyes, but he’d been known to move a few people. Ok, mostly women, but you never knew. This guy seemed like a soft touch. “Look man, I'm just worried about my brother. It’s our last day together, please, I need to see him. You gotta bring him here.”
“So, you really are dying?”
Dean snorted. “Not from a disease, no”
“I don’t understand. You said it was you last day.”
“You bring Sammy here and I tell you anything you want to know. Until I know he’s okay, I don’t cooperate.” Dean insisted. The hounds would be here soon and he’d really like to see Sam again.
“Sam is not in this facility. In fact, he is in the Impala on his way to see Bobby and Dawn." Al explained "Dean, we need information from you that will help Sam.”
Dean looked daggers at Al. Sam must have believed that the hounds had taken him to be heading back to Bobby’s and meeting up with his girlfriend. “If Sam’s truly on his way to Bobby’s then he doesn’t need your help and therefore you don’t need mine.” Dean hoped it was the truth.
“There is still a chance we can cure you and get you back to Sam. In fact we’re counting on it.”
“Oh man, cure me. I’m not sick.” Dean just started laughing. What the fuck, might as well mess with their heads and he could use the entertainment. It would certainly confirm once and for all if he was in hell or just the hands of the government. Really, when he thought about it; not much of a difference.
“You want the truth,” Dean really wanted to say that Al couldn’t handle the truth but he thought he’d leave the Jack impression for another day.
“Finally, yes, I want to know why your brother thinks you’re dying.”
He leaned in and recited to Al the condensed version.“I sold my soul to a demon to resurrect my brother. She gave me one year to live which was up at midnight last night. The hounds should be here any minute to rip me to shreds and carry my soul to Hell. If I were you, I would let me go so you won’t have to clean up the mess.” Dean put on his best ‘eat shit’ smile and hoped Al choked on the truth.
***********************************
Al felt the disbelief boiling up because Dean was clearly insane. Al hoped insanity allowed Dean to pass the ‘Sam Beckett -I leap only for God- good guy test’ because he did not want to spend any more time than necessary with this lunatic.
“You’re insane. That explains why you killed those girls in St Louis and why your brother is protecting you.”
“Hey, I didn’t kill those girls. For once, can’t someone look at the friggin’ evidence. Geez , I wasn’t even in town when the first girl was killed!” Al saw Dean’s anger ramping up as his rant continued. “There was no DNA evidence from me at the murder scenes and Rebecca Warren confirmed that it was my look-alike that attacked her, not me. Not a killer !” Dean pointed at himself for emphasis, “and not insane. But the world is sure as hell trying to make me both.”
Al didn’t know what to think but he needed to get away from Dean and gather some more evidence. “Watch him,” he said to the Marines
Al took off for the super-computer’s hub. He knew Ziggy would have been monitoring the interrogation. “Ziggy, have you had a chance to evaluate the criminal evidence against Dean?”
“Yes, Admiral” came the disembodied voice.
“What’s the probability that Dean Winchester killed those girls?”
“Admiral, the information that Dean provided confirms my evaluation of the files. I can say with 97% confidence that Dean Winchester did not kill those women.”
Al was surprised to find that he was actually not surprised. I guess Beckett’s good guy theory is still intact. “What about the demon thing? Is Dean insane?”
“Based on data I have on the supernatural. I can not say with any certainty that demons do exist, nor can I say with any certainty that they do not. Therefore, I cannot calculate any odds pertaining to the question of Mr. Winchester’s sanity”
“That’s not real helpful, Ziggy”
“I know, but Admiral, but do you not think it odd that Dean knows that wild dogs are supposed to kill him?”
Ziggy had just asked him the mother of all questions. How could Dean know about his death from wild dogs tonight unless he really was running from hellhounds ?
A/N:Chapter Title: “Wish You Were Here” by Pink Floyd
Chapter 5
Author: Strangevisitor7
Fandom: Supernatural & Quantum Leap.
Characters: Dean Winchester & Admiral Al Calavicci.
Rated: Gen
Disclaimer: All things SPN belong to Eric Kripke, et al. All thing Quantum Leap belong to Donald P. Bellisario, et al..
Summary: Al talks to Dean. Dean’s sanity is questioned. A conversation in the waiting room
A/N: So that Sam Beckett had not been leaping in time for 25 years, I have adjusted the time line to match up better. Sam Beckett’s present is 2015 (this is where Al is) and he has been leaping around for 3 years before he lands in Dean Winchester
The other chapters are here:
Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9, Chapter 10, Chapter 11, Chapter 12, Chapter 13
Chapter 4: So, You Think You Can Tell Heaven From Hell
Al returned to the imaging chamber. After a quick consult with Ziggy and her handlers, he headed over to the adjoining room where Dean was being held.
“How’s he doing? And what is that noise?” Al stepped beside Gushie to peer into the waiting room.
“That’s Metallica, Admiral. He’s eating again. We sent in some fried chicken and more pie about 5 minutes ago. ”
Al watched Dean eat. The guy had a goofy grin of satisfaction on his face and the eating habits of a 4 year-old. He sure didn’t look dangerous, but then neither had Ted Bundy. “I’m going in.” The admiral turned and headed down the hallway with Gushie trailing behind.
“Actually, Sir, do you thinks that’s wise? He is a murderer.” Word of Dean’s misdeeds had obviously spread quickly throughout the staff.
“Ziggy needs to keep her mouth shut.” The admiral mumbled.
“At least take the marines inside with you.” Gushie gestured to the guards waiting in front of the waiting room door. “Captain Reynolds and I thought...” the nervous little man trailed off waiting for the inevitable blow-up from the Admiral.
“Gushie,” Al paused and patted the scientist on the back, “Good idea. Now, go turn off that music before I shoot someone, okay?”
Gushie nodded and ran back down the hall.
***********************************
Dean was on his feet and heading toward the sound the moment the low hiss started. He stopped short when he found himself face to face with two Marines and their weapons.
“Whoa, there fellows.” Dean held his hands up in mock surrender.
“Have a seat.” A man, with the ugliest tie Dean had ever seen, followed the marines into the room and sat at the desk.
“It’s about time someone showed up.” Dean lounged back onto the cot.“Where is that bitch from the crossroads? Thought for sure she’d be here gloating herself, not sending in her lackeys. You her pool boy or something?”
The confused look the guy threw at Dean made him question the whole hell thing again. Demons usually dressed better, sneered more and never looked confused. This guy had even been apologetic when he’d called off the Marines. Which begged the question, since when did demons use marine bodyguards?
“My name is Admiral Al Calavicci. I guess you’re wondering where you’re being held?” The admiral waited for Dean to respond. Dean figured that there was no sense in revealing anything, and just smirked like he knew exactly where he was.
“Or not,” continued the Admiral. “In that case, I’ll just get to the questions I need answered. What exactly are you dying of, because we cannot find any records of disease?”
Dean’s eyes narrowed. A demon would know his situation, and he was pretty sure aliens wouldn’t have played him Metallica. So that left abducted by the government. If this was the FBI, where was Hendrickson. Then again it didn’t really matter to Dean where that FBI prick was because he had very little time left. He’s only sorry he’d be too busy dying to see Hendrickson’s expression when the hellhounds arrived. “What makes you think I have a disease?”
“Sam said you were dying.”
Dean was off the bed like a shot, his hands encircling Al’s throat before the marines could react. “Where is Sam?” He growled.
Then the Marines were moving, wrestling him off Al and back on to the bed. “You get your filthy experimenting hands off of Sam, you son of a bitch. If you hurt him, I swear I will kill you.” Dean tried to shake off the marines but they wouldn’t budge. He needed to know if Sammy was okay, so he bit his tongue and apologized. “Sorry, man, sorry. Can you call off the muscle, please? I promise to stay put.”
Al nodded and the Marines moved away.
Dean figured begging might work. He didn’t have Sam’s puppy dog eyes, but he’d been known to move a few people. Ok, mostly women, but you never knew. This guy seemed like a soft touch. “Look man, I'm just worried about my brother. It’s our last day together, please, I need to see him. You gotta bring him here.”
“So, you really are dying?”
Dean snorted. “Not from a disease, no”
“I don’t understand. You said it was you last day.”
“You bring Sammy here and I tell you anything you want to know. Until I know he’s okay, I don’t cooperate.” Dean insisted. The hounds would be here soon and he’d really like to see Sam again.
“Sam is not in this facility. In fact, he is in the Impala on his way to see Bobby and Dawn." Al explained "Dean, we need information from you that will help Sam.”
Dean looked daggers at Al. Sam must have believed that the hounds had taken him to be heading back to Bobby’s and meeting up with his girlfriend. “If Sam’s truly on his way to Bobby’s then he doesn’t need your help and therefore you don’t need mine.” Dean hoped it was the truth.
“There is still a chance we can cure you and get you back to Sam. In fact we’re counting on it.”
“Oh man, cure me. I’m not sick.” Dean just started laughing. What the fuck, might as well mess with their heads and he could use the entertainment. It would certainly confirm once and for all if he was in hell or just the hands of the government. Really, when he thought about it; not much of a difference.
“You want the truth,” Dean really wanted to say that Al couldn’t handle the truth but he thought he’d leave the Jack impression for another day.
“Finally, yes, I want to know why your brother thinks you’re dying.”
He leaned in and recited to Al the condensed version.“I sold my soul to a demon to resurrect my brother. She gave me one year to live which was up at midnight last night. The hounds should be here any minute to rip me to shreds and carry my soul to Hell. If I were you, I would let me go so you won’t have to clean up the mess.” Dean put on his best ‘eat shit’ smile and hoped Al choked on the truth.
***********************************
Al felt the disbelief boiling up because Dean was clearly insane. Al hoped insanity allowed Dean to pass the ‘Sam Beckett -I leap only for God- good guy test’ because he did not want to spend any more time than necessary with this lunatic.
“You’re insane. That explains why you killed those girls in St Louis and why your brother is protecting you.”
“Hey, I didn’t kill those girls. For once, can’t someone look at the friggin’ evidence. Geez , I wasn’t even in town when the first girl was killed!” Al saw Dean’s anger ramping up as his rant continued. “There was no DNA evidence from me at the murder scenes and Rebecca Warren confirmed that it was my look-alike that attacked her, not me. Not a killer !” Dean pointed at himself for emphasis, “and not insane. But the world is sure as hell trying to make me both.”
Al didn’t know what to think but he needed to get away from Dean and gather some more evidence. “Watch him,” he said to the Marines
Al took off for the super-computer’s hub. He knew Ziggy would have been monitoring the interrogation. “Ziggy, have you had a chance to evaluate the criminal evidence against Dean?”
“Yes, Admiral” came the disembodied voice.
“What’s the probability that Dean Winchester killed those girls?”
“Admiral, the information that Dean provided confirms my evaluation of the files. I can say with 97% confidence that Dean Winchester did not kill those women.”
Al was surprised to find that he was actually not surprised. I guess Beckett’s good guy theory is still intact. “What about the demon thing? Is Dean insane?”
“Based on data I have on the supernatural. I can not say with any certainty that demons do exist, nor can I say with any certainty that they do not. Therefore, I cannot calculate any odds pertaining to the question of Mr. Winchester’s sanity”
“That’s not real helpful, Ziggy”
“I know, but Admiral, but do you not think it odd that Dean knows that wild dogs are supposed to kill him?”
Ziggy had just asked him the mother of all questions. How could Dean know about his death from wild dogs tonight unless he really was running from hellhounds ?
A/N:Chapter Title: “Wish You Were Here” by Pink Floyd
Chapter 5