That Sweet Fall Into Sin

Four Times John Crichton Wore Aeryn's Clothes (and One Time She Wore His)

Sun, 03 Jun 2007 14:15:55 GMT

Title: Four Times John Crichton Wore Aeryn’s Clothes (and One Time She Wore His)
Author: Jinni
Rated: Pg13
Disclaimer: All things Farscape remain in the hands of their copyright holders.
Beta: LJ User=SierraPhoenix
Pairing: John/Aeryn
Notes: For my Five Things requests.

~one~

The first time it happens, he’s not paying attention. Pilot is screaming, D’Argo is growling, and in general trouble is just frelling falling into their laps. He grabs for a shirt, tugs it on, and might wonder a little why it’s too tight, but with crisis whistling around their heads merrily-merrily, he’s not stopping to figure it out.

Later, when Aeryn eyes him and says her shirt will never be the same, Crichton gets it.

~two~

Crichton doesn’t think that the dress Aeryn gave him is hers. It might be the fact that it’s pink or that it’s a, well, dress. But she says he needs to blend in and this is the way to do it.

Three hours later, when he learns that it was just a joke to make him go down to that damn planet in drag, he promises Aeryn that he’ll get her back.

Once he washes the makeup off his face.

~three~

The third time he wears Aeryn’s clothes, he’s actually in Aeryn’s body, so Crichton thinks that one shouldn’t count. Much.

~four~

“Look, I’m sorry!” Crichton calls out to Aeryn’s back, sighing when she just keeps on going, turning a corner and disappearing from sight.

So she’s not the type that likes to see her boyfriend wearing her underwear.

Something tells him he should have known that.

And, damn, these things chafe!

~five~

Lying on the bed, in just his boxers and a t-shirt, Aeryn looks like everything he always wanted and didn’t think he’d ever have. Crawling up her body, John drops a kiss between each thigh and pushes up the t-shirt, fingers skimming her stomach. Lips move, tracing paths, tongue teasing her bellybutton. She laughs, a huff of sound, and he grins against her skin, the smile stealing up over her body in the wake of his mouth.

“You look good in my clothes,” he whispers when he finally reaches her lips, holding himself up on one arm so that he can look down into her face. She’s wide-eyed, cheeks flushed.

“Really?” she asks, pushing her hips up against his, grinding into him.

“Yeah,” Crichton breathes and smiles a little while he employs a line on her that Aeryn can’t possibly know is considered cheesy and crass back on Earth. “Bet you’ll look even better out of them.”

END

Five Times Dean Pulled the "Because I'm Older" Card on Sam & Alec (AWV)

Sun, 03 Jun 2007 14:08:32 GMT

Title: Five Times Dean Pulled the "Because I'm Older" Card on Sam and Alec (AWV)
Author: Jinni (jinni.tth@gmail.com)
Rated: Pg13
Disclaimer: All things SPN belong to Eric Kripke, et al. All things Dark Angel belong to James Cameron, Fox, et al.
Notes: For my Five Things requests and my June month of AWV fic.

~one~

Alec looked down at the orange jumpsuit Dean had tossed at him, a twin to the one that Sam had been given. It was the kind of thing he was loathe to be caught dead in. Ever. Even for a job. But here he was, about to have to take one for the team. While Dean… Wait. How was that fair? He frowned and held up the obnoxiously bright clothing. “Why do we have to be the prisoners?”

Dean smirked and adjusted the police uniform he’d stolen, the nametag glinting a generic ‘Jones’ on his chest. “Because I’m the oldest.”

~two~

“So, let me get this straight,” Alec drawled, hands shoved down in his pockets. The building in front of them was bright and full of music, talking, and laughter. It looked like a really kick ass party.

Not that he was going to get to find out.

“You are going in there.” Alec pointed at Dean, then the frat house. “And I’m waiting out here with Sam?”

Dean’s grin was a slow slide of lips over teeth, smug amusement at its best. Alec knew that look. Hell, he used that look sometimes. Right now he just wanted to wipe it off his brother’s face.

“Yeah, sounds like you’ve got the plan all figured out,” Dean said with a glance over his shoulder. A group of girls were heading into the frat house, giggling obscenely and wearing only enough clothes to keep from getting picked up for indecent exposure.

Fuck, it had been too long since he had gotten laid, and Alec felt his mouth go dry. So many possibilities right there, in front of him, and he wasn’t even going to get a chance. “Why?”

The words, when they came, weren’t as much of a surprise as they should have been. Though they were still damn unfair.

“’Cause I’m the oldest. Now play nice, kids.” He winked. “I’ll be back soon.”

~three~

“Because I’m the oldest” apparently also worked as an excuse to steal the last of the donuts.

Alec thought maybe that was the worst excuse ever as he watched his older brother shove the entire donut in his mouth, cheeks puffing out like a deranged squirrel.

~four~

Apparently Dean also got to drive all the fucking time because he was the oldest. Or because it was his car. Alec really wasn’t sure on the details of how that went, but Sam didn’t argue with it, so he just folded himself into the backseat and shut his eyes, sliding his sunglasses down. Was a good time to catch a nap, anyway.

~five~

The most frustrating thing about finding out that he had two brothers – real brothers, not the kind of Manticore ‘we are a unit’ crap he’d been fed since he was old enough to understand – was that he was the youngest. Younger than Sam by a couple years, younger than Dean by even more still.

Most of the time it didn’t bother him. There were moments of sibling sarcasm, jibes, and pranks, but nothing that really got to him.

Then there were times like this.

“Just – stay put,” Dean hissed, pushing on Alec’s shoulder hard and sudden. Alec fell back a step, nearly bumping into Sam. Dean disappeared into the night before Alec could think of a thing to say.

“What the fuck?” Alec muttered, looking to Sam.

Sam shrugged. “He thinks he has to watch out for us because he’s older.”

What an idiot. Alec frowned in the direction Dean had gone. “Does the fact that I’m a trained soldier with transgenic talents just totally escape him? I’m not going after him to bail him out of he gets caught.”

Sam shot him a look, but didn’t say a word. He didn’t need to, either. He knew as well as Alec did that if push came to shove, they’d both be there helping Dean out of whatever fuck up he’d created for himself.

Because that’s what younger brothers did when their fuck-up big brothers got in trouble.

END

Four Times Alec Had to Pretend to be Dean (and one Time Dean Was Alec)

Sun, 03 Jun 2007 13:10:45 GMT

Title: Four Times Alec Had to Pretend to Be Dean (and One Time Dean Was Alec) (AWV)
Author: Jinni (jinni.tth@gmail.com)
Rated: Pg13
Disclaimer: All things SPN belong to Eric Kripke, et al. All things DA belong to James Cameron, Fox, et al.
Notes: You guys wanted June to be a month of AWV fic...and also provided a lot of Five Things AWV prompts. Hope you enjoy.

~one~

For once he was getting a sweet assignment instead of research or stakeout duty, and Alec couldn’t have been more thrilled. Sam and Dean were at the library checking into the local lore of this supposedly haunted mansion at the edge of town, and Alec had been sent to talk to an old friend of theirs.

“Don’t worry about explaining the whole brother-thing,” Dean had said. “She’ll assume you’re me. Just go with it.”

Seemed like a nice, easy plan. He knew enough about Dean that he could pull off a reasonable impersonation if he had to.

Alec raised a hand, knocking on a door so worn with time that the paint was peeling off in little white flakes. He brushed a few off his knuckles with a grimace and waited. Inside the house, he could hear someone moving around, coming towards the door, and he pasted on his best Dean-expression.

The girl’s name was Anna Mae, and he’d been expecting some sort of country bumpkin complete with checkered top and crooked teeth. The woman that answered was none of that. In fact, she was the exact opposite. A dark-haired goddess that must have had a touch of Hispanic blood in her somewhere, with dark eyes and a mouth that –

“Dean Winchester!” she hissed as she pushed open the screen door so hard and fast that Alec would’ve been hit in the face if it weren’t for his speed and reflexes.

It threw him enough that he never saw the smack coming.

~two~

“Look, you just go in there and be me, while I go across town and be me,” Dean cajoled. And, yeah, it was that fucking cajoling, listen-to-me-because-I’m-older voice. Alec hated that one.

“If I get smacked again –“

“Dude, chill,” Dean rolled his eyes. “You’re not gonna get smacked.”

Dean was right, as it turned out. Alec didn’t get smacked.

He wasn’t sure getting kicked in the shin was any better, though.

~three~

“Only you, Dean.” Sam sighed and shook his head.

“What?” Dean asked, all innocence except for the smug smirk on his lips. “It’s not my fault that the ladies find me irresistible, Sammy. Maybe if you weren’t such a –“

“Yeah, well,” Sam cut him off with a wave of his hand. “Tell me how you’re going to get out of this without getting a kick in the balls, Dean. You told both of them you’d go home with them tonight. To separate homes.”

Alec looked back and forth between the girls at the opposite ends of the bar. A redhead and a blonde. Both pretty. And both thought their houses were haunted. Apparently they wanted someone to come ‘check it out’ for them, and that someone needed to be Dean.

It was pretty funny, the more Alec thought about it. Sammy had it right. Only Dean would promise himself to two women.

“Well, here’s what I’m thinking,” Dean drawled, leaning into the table. “Neither one of those lovely ladies has noticed that I have a mini-me here.”

The fuck? Alec glared at him. “Call me that again and I’ll show you what it’s really like to get beat down by a transgenic.”

Dean didn’t look at all apologetic as he continued. “So I figure Alec here can go home with the lovely redheaded Tina while I make sure that Debbie is all safe and sound.”

Getting pimped out by Dean was definitely something that should piss him off.

But ‘Tina’ was really, really easy on the eyes.

“That’s the stupidest thing –“

“I’ll do it,” Alec cut Sam off.

Dean grinned. “Knew I could count on you, little bro.” He paused, drinking off the last of his beer. “I trust you can live up to the Dean Winchester standard?”

Now it was Alec’s turn to roll his eyes, but he didn’t play into the insult. Besides, “Transgenic. Stamina. You’ll be a legend by the time I’m through.”

~four~

When the skinwalker insisted that Dean meet with him – alone – it was Sam’s idea to send Alec in instead.

Dean didn’t like it, Alec could see it in his eyes. That protective streak of his playing havoc with logic and just plain old good planning.

Alec made that son-of-a-bitch sorry he’d ever heard the name Dean Winchester before he was through.

~five~

Dean didn’t like this. He was in a strange city, meeting with someone that promised to be even stranger, by Alec’s description, while Alec was off with Sam practicing the Winchester tradition of breaking and entering on the guy’s place. The thought of the two of them off like that, doing something so sneaky and underhanded and, damn, illegal, made Dean proud.

God, he loved his brothers sometimes.

On second thought, Dean did a mental about-face a few minutes later, when his contact stepped into sight, maybe dislike was more appropriate.

Alec could have warned him that this guy sort of looked like a giant lizard.

Fuck.

He was so putting a stuffed clown in Alec’s bed before he got back from playing burglar.

END

Five Things - Set #1

Fri, 01 Jun 2007 23:06:59 GMT

Some of these are going to be from prompts on my LJ, too.

General Disclaimer: All fandoms belong to their individual copyright holders.

Okay, here's the first set of these. All are rated PG13 in this set.

Title: Five Secrets Teal’c Keeps About the Rest of his Team
Warnings: Mention of Jack/Daniel
Beta: LJ User Sierraphoenix

There are many customs of the Tau’ri that Teal’c has come to understand over his years fighting by their side. There are many more that he still does not and fears he never will. Still, when he walked in on SamCarter holding a riding crop with a young airman tied to her bed, he did not think twice about telling her he would not say a word to anyone.

Teal’c did not intend to be JonasQuinn’s confessor. The Kelownan did not tolerate Tau’ri alcoholic beverages well. What he learned that night, of an abusive father and a mother that self-medicated, would never see the light of day. JonasQuinn might not have been a part of his team long, but Teal’c would hold his secrets just like all others.

The realization that SamCarter holds feelings for O’Neill should have come as a shock after her indiscretion with the airman. She is unaware that he knows, and he has no plans to tell her otherwise. Not when he knows that it is a futile fantasy on her part -

Because he has seen DanielJackson with O’Neill, and knows that the two of them have something together that many would search their entire lives for. Teal’c also understands Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell. He doesn’t ask. They don’t tell.

When the team changes, once again – new allies joining their ranks in the form of ColonelMitchell and the unlikely ValaMalDoran – Teal’c holds his secrets and adds new ones. ValaMalDoran is afraid of being alone, she confesses while drugged on PX3-948, and ColonelMitchell likes to ‘bat for both teams’. He is unsure what baseball has to do with anything; however, ColonelMitchell seemed quite insistent that he not mention this to anyone. Ever.

Teal’c never will.

END

Title: Five Good Memories Sam Winchester Has of His Father
Warnings: Slight mention of the end of All Hell Breaks Loose
Beta: LJ User Sierraphoenix

His earliest memory of his father is warm arms, a strong presence. Holding him tight, whispering that he loved him. That he would always try to keep him safe. Sam thinks that maybe he did do that, to his dying day, even if it didn’t always feel like it at the time.

For his fifth birthday, Sam got a cake and a stack of presents. The presents were badly wrapped, done up in tacky paper and scraps of Saturday morning comics. Inside each one was something that he could use for hunting, but that last one, the one that Dean told him later had been all dad’s idea, had nothing to do with their weird lifestyle. An honest-to-God toy, a little action figure from one of the cartoons he liked watching whenever they were allowed to sit around on a Saturday morning. Even now, Sam thinks that was one of the best birthdays of his entire life.

There was one time, when he’d come home from school with a test he’d aced, glowing and happy with accomplishment, his dad had patted him on the head and murmured “Good job, Sammy.” It was the only compliment his dad ever gave him about school.

Hunting was always something that was more like a chore than the fun that Dean and Dad thought it was. Still, the first time Sam used those skills he’d learned – without thinking, moving on instinct – and picked up a gun to save his brother’s life, the look his Dad gave him, full of pride and wonder, made Sam warm inside.

Sam’s best memory of his father is also the worst. Sometimes it’s hard to separate the pain from the happiness. Fucked up, true, but everything about their life has been. Always will be. Still, he’ll carry the memory of his dad coming out of Hell itself to help him and Dean until the day he dies.

END

Title: Five Times Sark Traveled to Sunnydale
Beta: LJ USer crazy_hatter13

The first time he set foot within Sunnydale’s city limits, his SIG Sauer a comfortable weight in its holster under his jacket, Julian Sark knew that the town was different. It pricked at the back of his neck, like eyes watching him everywhere he went. His current employer had paid handsomely for this job, however. And he was not about to turn tail and leave town simply because the place was… eerie. The mark was no one extraordinary, indeed he couldn’t see a single reason why anyone would want to kill a doctor at a small town hospital. Then again, he wasn’t paid to ask question. One bullet, to the head, and it was done.

When Irina asked him to retrieve an artifact from the Sunnydale Museum, Sark thought about the first time he’d been to the odd little town and the unsettled feeling it had left in him, but he did as he was told. Arguing with Irina was never a smart thing to do.

SD-6 wanted intel on a military base that had once lay beneath the quiet little town, so under Arvin Sloane’s orders, Sark went. The base was destroyed, nothing left. No way to even get inside of its secret depths. Sark cursed in hard, bitter Russian, and went back with his hands empty. He hated not getting what he wanted.

Once, someone paid for him to target a blonde girl, no more than twenty years old. Sark still wasn’t sure what happened with that, but none of his bullets would hit their mark. And when he looked at the red head standing next to her, he was almost sure that she was smirking at him. That was the second time he failed a mission in Sunnydale.

The last time he went to Sunnydale he had information at his fingertips, knowledge to understand what went on there, and a new mission. Make sure that the group stayed alive until they were out of the town. No one had warned him that the town might cave in. That he might not be able to do a single bloody thing to stop them from leaving with two fewer members than what they should have. Apparently the crucial pawns were still in play, however, and he was paid accordingly.

In the end, he was more than glad that the city was gone, destroyed. Too many failed missions within its limits rankled against his sensibilities. There weren’t many things that could give him nightmares; however the things that he knew about that place, those people, were close.

END

Five Things Prompts

Thu, 31 May 2007 18:46:14 GMT

Let's have a little fun, shall we? You give me the "Five Things..." and I'll write it.

Examples:

Five times Xander almost was killed by a date.

Five times Dean didn't call Sam at Stanford.

Got it?

Please try to keep your requests to these fandoms:
Buffy/Crossovers (with any other fandom listed), Supernatural, Stargate, Stargate Atlantis, Roswell, Smallville, Farscape, Alias, Supernatural Crossovers (with SG1, SGA, RW, SV, or Buffy)

Alec Winchester Verse (AWV) Series Index

Thu, 31 May 2007 14:02:28 GMT

Here is the series index for the Alec Winchester 'Verse.

I offer up my playground to any of my friends that want to dabble in it. All I ask is that you don't go ahead any further in the SPN canon than I've done, and that you link me the fic when you've written it so that I can add it to the index.

1. Not the Golden Child
--- John Remix

2. Brother Mine

3. Voicemails from the Edge

4. AWV Drabbles

5. The Consequences of Our Actions

6. Better Than You, Better Than Me

7. All Hell Breaks Loose

8. In My Time of Dying
Part One | Part Two

9. And the Bottom Falls Out

10. Tears of a Clown

11. Prodigal Son Coming Soon
Alec is forced to return to Seattle, with Dean and Sam in tow. Will what they learn about their youngest brother be enough to sever the ties of family they've all come to rely on?

Miscellaneous Series Outtakes

1. Four Times Alec Had to Pretend to Be Dean (and One Time Dean Was Alec) - Pg13

2. Five Times Dean Pulled the "Because I'm Older" Card on Sam & Alec - Pg13

Tears of a Clown - Pg13 - DA/SPN - AWV #10

Thu, 31 May 2007 13:39:32 GMT

Title: Tears of a Clown
Series: Alec Winchester ‘Verse
Author: Jinni (jinni.tth@gmail.com)
Rated: Pg13
Disclaimer: All things SPN belong to Eric Kripke, et al. All things Dark Angel belong to Fox, et al. Some of the dialogue is taken directly from the SPN episode “Everybody Loves a Clown”
Spoilers: Through “Everybody Loves a Clown”.
Notes: Next in the AW ‘Verse.
Summary:

PART ONE

A soft wind kicked up a cloud of dirt from the dry ground, blowing dust into the air in small puffs that drifted along before settling again. Alec wrinkled his nose, turning his head from the gritty particles that tumbled past him. It wasn’t a particularly hot day, but the sun was beating down pretty steadily, and sweat had started beading up on his back under the long-sleeved t-shirt he’d put on that morning before going out to find Dean.

He didn’t know what he’d hoped to do once he’d found his ‘older brother’, but it certainly didn’t involve sitting on his ass watching Dean work on the Impala for hours on end, not saying a word. The few times that Dean had looked his way, met his eyes, had been so tense that Alec didn’t want to repeat them if at all possible. On the other hand, he didn’t really want to go sit around with Sam, either, and being on his own right now held no appeal.

Years of looking out for himself, following orders, and not giving a shit about anyone or anything, and now he was fucking mourning for a guy that he’d only just barely been starting to get to know. Someone that had been, technically, his father. He wasn’t used to this, to feeling so goddamned depressed. It was almost enough to make him long for the days back ‘home’, with Max and the other freaks of the week. For all that she’d looked down on him like he was nothing more than garbage, he hadn’t given a fuck what she thought. For that matter, he hadn’t cared what any of them thought or what happened to them. Not really.

But instead of being back there where he was safe from emotional trauma, he was here with his ‘brothers’, mourning his ‘father’, and wondering when his life became so fucking movie of the week-ish.

Well, if movies of the week had a horror twist to them.

Alec smiled for half a moment at his own joke, then just as quickly it was gone, and he was feeling guilty because he was smiling and making cutesy jokes inside his head when Dad was dead and they had no fucking leads on the demon that they were damn sure had done it. Dean was alive, but Dad was gone.

He was sure that someone, somewhere, thought that it was a fair trade. Alec just wasn’t entirely positive that he was one of them. Not that he’d wanted to lose his brother, either, but who said he had to lose anyone? Who the hell made up dumbass rules like that? If that’s what this even was. Alec wasn’t fooling himself, though. He might not have said it out loud, but he was damned sure that Dad had died to save Dean. Made a trade. One life for another. Coincidences like that just didn’t happen. Not even to this screwed up family.

Everything had fallen apart. Sam had his nose shoved in a book ninety-percent of the time, Dean was always under the car, and Bobby just looked like he wanted to help but didn’t know how. Which left Alec on his own, more often than not. He didn’t want to say that was part of what had him feeling so shitty, but there was that possibility. Losing Dad, then sorta losing his brothers too? That sucked.

The cowardly part of him wanted to get out while he could. Before he fell further into this emotional train wreck of a family that he’d been saddled with through the grace of whatever fucked up god was out there watching out for all bad little transgenic brats. He could be back harassing Maxie in a few days’ time, if he really tried. It would be easy. Much easier than sticking around to see what heartache came next in this fucked up ride.

It was just too damn bad there was a bigger part of him that didn’t want to be that person anymore. The one that only looked out for himself and didn’t care about anyone or anything. Being with Dad, then Sam and Dean, had changed him. He wasn’t sure it was for the best, but he didn’t really have any say in the matter, either. One day he’d gone to bed the same guy he’d always been, the next he’d woken up with people that made him want to be better.

Alec frowned, glaring at the ground. Dean was banging on the car again. Short, quick strokes of the hammer against something on the underside of the body of the car. Damn shame about the Impala, but Alec guessed if anyone could fix her, Dean was the guy. The temptation to offer to help him had only been extended once, though. After a quick interrogation that proved that, right, Alec knew almost nothing that could be of any use to fixing Dean’s baby, he’d been sent away with a don’t touch anything.

A door opened behind him, but Dean didn’t notice. Hell, Alec doubted that Dean was noticing much of anything. He seemed to have zoned out to the steady repetitious banging he was doing to the underside of the Impala.

Alec felt a hand on his shoulder, long fingers squeezing gently, and glanced up at Sam. Arching an eyebrow in the direction of the car, he asked the silent question, You gonna brave that?

Sam looked over at the car, thinking on it so hard that any second now Alec was sure there was going to be smoke coming out of his ears. Opening his mouth to tell him not to break anything, Alec shut it again. This was the closest that he’d felt to ‘back to normal’ with either of them in days, and he sure as fuck wasn’t going to screw it up with a badly timed joke. After staring at Dean’s legs sticking out from under the car for another minute, Sam nodded. Slowly, Alec noted absently. Like he wasn’t too sure that what he had to say was worth disturbing Dean with. Given that Dean was, in Alec’s opinion, about two seconds away from snapping at any given moment of the day, Alec didn’t really blame Sam.

“Wish me luck,” Sam muttered in a dry tone, giving Alec a little wry smile before setting off through the dust of the junkyard to where Dean was still banging away at the car. Absently, Alec wondered if he was fixing anything under there or just hitting it for the sake of hitting something. Probably would be a good idea if he could get Dean to spar with him a little later. Try to work through some of that emotional blockage that was clogging him up worse than a lack of fiber at a seniors’ home.

Oh, wrong move, Alec thought, listening in as Sam offered to help Dean with the car. It wasn’t that surprising when Dean turned him down. Even if Sam knew the first thing about helping with the car, Alec got the feeling Dean wouldn’t want the help. The Impala was his. The one thing that he had that was his and his alone. He wanted to keep it that way. Alec got that. If he’d ever had any possessions that he cared about, then maybe he’d feel the same way about them.

In a move that took Alec a little by surprise, Dean slid out from under the car. He stood, brushing his hands off on his pants, looking at Sam with the saddest mix of determination, irritation, and depression that Alec had ever seen. Geez, when had he gotten such a Hallmark-y way of viewing things? They needed to get back on the road soon before he started talking about his feelings and watching daytime television.

“You know what? You're right,” Dean was saying as Alec stood up and brushed the dirt off his ass, “Come here. I'm gonna lay my head gently on your shoulder. Maybe we can cry, hug, and maybe even slow dance.”

Seemed like Dean pretty much felt the same way Alec did. That was refreshing. Or it would have been if Alec hadn’t seen and understood the look in Dean’s eyes for what it was. The whole ‘I’m holding together as best as I can, please don’t push me’ look that Alec had seen more than one good little soldier try to hang onto while at Manticore. Those were the kids that usually left in the middle of the night with an armed escort and were never heard from again.

Alec shoved his hands down into the pockets of his faded blue jeans and walked slowly towards the two of them, body tense. Like he was expecting a fight, and maybe he was. The way that the two of them were looking at each other, like either one could go off like a powder keg at any second. That was the kind of crap that they needed to just deal with and move on from because it was going to end up getting someone hurt. Like him, or themselves. And fuck if he could handle losing anyone else anytime soon. Or maybe ever.

Sam huffed. “Don't patronize me, Dean. Dad is dead. The Colt is gone, and it seems pretty damn likely that the demon is behind all of this, and you're acting like nothing happened.”

And, wow, was this ever spiraling out of control. Just what they needed, a nice fight to liven the afternoon up. Because it had been so boring before.

“What do you want me to say?” Dean snapped, scowling.

To think, it had been such a good day. Maybe a little heavy in the angst, but still not bad as far as days went. Alec sighed, loudly, hoping it would derail the two of them from doing this here and now, when they were both still too fucked up in the head over it.

Sam shrugged, lifting his hands up. “Say something, all right? Hell, say anything! Aren't you angry? Don't you want revenge? But all you do is sit out here all day long buried underneath this damn car.”

Right, because bringing the fucking Impala into it was a good way to make sure that things didn’t escalate to some kind of violence. Did Sammy want to get hit? Damn, maybe he did.

Alec knew before saying anything that he shouldn’t get in the middle of this. It was volatile enough without throwing him in there, reminding the brothers that they weren’t the only ones that were missing Dad. Topping it all off was the fact that Alec had spent was that one that had been with John for those months before he died. Not his sons. He’d had more time with Dad than Dean or Sam had gotten off of him in years.

Still, he opened his mouth and found himself saying, “Getting angry, getting worked up, it isn’t going to change anything. We don’t know where the demon is. We don’t even know where to start looking.”

The look Sam shot him was one of those why-are-you-siding-with-him moments that usually made Alec smile or smirk or something to do with amusement, anyway. Right then, though, he only felt a little sick to his stomach. Choosing sides was not the way that he wanted to play this. It wasn’t him and Dean versus Sam. It was the three of them, together, figuring out what the fuck was going on and then getting a little get-back of their own. Their fucking Dad had been killed. They sure as hell weren’t going to let that just go.

Silence pulsed there in the middle of them, as they stood in the dusty, dirty junkyard with the Impala all too close by and wounded beyond recognition. It hurt to be here right now, with them. Hurt like a bitch. But he wasn’t going to run.

He didn’t really have anywhere to run to, anyway. Not unless he was dead set on heading back to the northeast, which sounded less and less like a good idea the more he thought about it.

Sam kicked at the dirt, head down, face intense. Then he sighed and fished in his pocket, coming up with a cell phone. “Well, we do have something, all right? I was able to crack the pin number on one of dad’s phones. He had a voicemail from someone named Ellen. Said she could help him.”

“When was that?” Dean asked.

“Four months ago,” Sam shrugged. “Figure it must be important if he kept it that long, right?” He held out the cell phone to Dean. “Go on, listen.”

Dean looked at the cell phone as if he expected it to lunge out and bite him. For all Alec knew, there’d been a hunt involving a possessed cell phone somewhere in Dean’s past. Doubtful, and not something he would ever have even thought of as possible before meeting up with the Winchesters, but there really was no telling when it came to these guys.

When he finally took it and started the voicemail, Alec had no trouble hearing the woman’s whisky-burned voice even though the was a few feet away.

John, it's Ellen. Again. Look, don't be stubborn, you know I can help you. Call me.

“I did a trace on the number,” Sam offered. “Got an address.”

Alec didn’t even realize he’d been holding his breath, waiting to see if Dean was really ready to get back on the road, until his brother sighed and said –

“Ask Bobby if we can use one of his cars.”

PART TWO

Alec would have liked to have been able to say, when everything was all said and done, that he'd seen it coming and it had just happened too fast for him to do anything to diffuse the situation, work it to his advantage, and get his fucking family out of harm's way. Later, when he looked back on it all, he wished he could claim that there was no way he could have done a damn thing, even with transgenic super speed on his side, to stop what had occurred.

Maybe he'd even been distracted by the guy with what had to be the worst haircut Alec was sure he'd ever seen, sleeping on the pool table like it was the most normal thing in the world.

In hindsight, though, he realized that it had more to do with the fact that he hadn't seen it coming at all. Wasn't as if they'd walked into that rundown little hole in the wall expecting to have guns pulled on them. And he sort of was too far from Sam and Dean to try to make a play for the guns without getting both of them shot. Didn't matter if he could move quick as hell, there were two guns, one of him, and the crazy bitches holding the guns were just too damn close to his brothers.

Alec centered himself as he stood off to one side, watching the two women with the guns, finding that calm place inside that he'd learned to tap into over the years, running ops for Manticore. Getting nervous about those things being pointed at people he cared about wasn't going to help him any. Cool heads prevailed. Hot heads got killed. He'd be damned if either of them was going to get killed today. Not by some nut with a gun. All he needed was an opportunity, one little opening where he was sure that he wasn't going to get Dean or Sam shot, and he'd take it. 'Course, all that depended on the two chicks not getting trigger happy in the meantime.

Goddamnit, why was nothing ever easy in his life?

Like the gods were listening, the showdown broke. "Dean? Sam? Winchester? Son-of-a-bitch." Her gaze flicked over at him, and Alec did his best not to sneer though he wasn't going to apologize for the glare he gave her, either. "But who the hell are you?" She frowned. "Last time I checked, your daddy," and she looked back at first Dean, then Sam, "didn't have any other sons. And I know for a fact you were never a twin, Dean."

"He's our brother and let's just leave it at that," Sam surprised Alec by answering, voice completely devoid of warmth. Like this wasn't a subject that was up for discussion. And, hey, that was fine by Alec, he'd just never really heard Sam lay it on the line like that. Then Sam asked, "You Ellen?"

He tried not to sigh with relief when it turned out that, yes, she was Ellen. Though, if he could figure out a reason why those two getting the upper hand on the three of them wasn't something he could have personally avoided, Alec planned on never letting his brothers forget about how they'd gotten jumped by two chicks.

And that was how they met Ellen, Ash, and Jo, Alec thought with some small measure of bemusement as they piled back into the banged-up piece of shit soccer-mom van that Bobby had loaned them to drive. The car was an embarrassment, but he supposed it could be worse. For instance - it could have been a station wagon.

Alec took the backseat and glanced back over his shoulder at the Roadhouse. Jo had come outside to see them off, standing in the halo of light from the sign on the front of the building, her arms crossed over her chest, and Alec found himself half-smiling and winking, giving her a little wave, before he even thought twice about it, slipping into the role of flirt as easily as he ever had. She was pretty enough and, despite the fact that she still seemed to be hanging from her mother's apron strings, she was old enough. And, man, had she seemed interested. In him and Dean. Like she didn't know which one of them to make a move on and had decided just to try both. Flirting with him, then Dean, then him again. Poor girl didn't even realize that Dean wasn't really noticing her - and when he did, he wasn't caring - and Alec? Well, he'd play that game if she wanted to; it'd been too long since he'd had someone warm in his arms, but when all was said and done he wasn't looking for a girl to call his own.

An image of Ellen and her gun flashed through Alec's mind, like a glaring warning sign. Right. Maybe he wouldn't be making any moves to get in her pants for even one night, either. Not with her sort-of scary mother lurking around. He'd have to be stupid to miss the glares she'd given him each time he'd played along with Jo's flirting.

The radio was on as they drove, fuzzy static signaling that they really were in the ass end of nowhere, no question about it. Alec didn't think he'd ever miss the worn, old cassettes that Dean had kept in the Impala - the hours upon hours of music that was older than they were in some cases - but he did. Something buzzed against his hip, and Alec reached for his cell phone without thinking, looking down at the little display.

Max?

What the hell was Maxie doing calling him? They didn't have anything to say to one another, and it wasn't like she'd been heartbroken to see him leave Seattle. His thumb hovered over the button as he wavered back and forth between answering and not answering. Pretty safe to say that whatever she wanted, she could find someone else that could help her because the only reason she'd be calling him was if she needed something and he damn well wasn't going to play slave-boy for her. The phone clicked over to voicemail before he could decide whether or not to pick it up and tell her to go fuck herself, and he waited for a minute to see if she was going to leave a message.

She didn't.

Oh well. Couldn't have been too important then, could it?

"You've gotta be kidding me. A killer clown?"

Alec's head snapped up, muttering a 'huh' as he shoved the cell phone back in his pocket. He had to have heard that wrong. "A killer clown?"

"Yeah. He left the daughter unharmed and killed the parents. Ripped them to pieces, actually," Sam continued.

"This happened at what? A carnival? A circus?" Alec asked, still trying to wrap his mind around the whole killer clown thing. Every time he thought he had a handle on the weird ass shit in this world, there it was - something new and unexpected. Not to mention - clowns? So he wasn't about to say it out loud - to anyone, ever - but clowns sort of gave him the creeps. What with their makeup and their grinning. Alec shivered, disturbed by the thought of a clown that was extra-creepy with a side of homicidal.

Sam flipped through the limited research he had and answered, "The, uh, Cooper Carnival."

A whole frickin' carnival full of the pasty-faced, red-nosed, bastards. Alec wasn't ready to admit he had a phobia or anything, but damn if this didn't sound like a fucking nightmare.

"So how do you know we're not dealing with some psycho carnie in a clown suit?" Dean changed lanes, passing a slower moving car in front of them. Pretty sad, Alec thought distractedly, that they were going slower than a beat-up old minivan.

"Well, the cops have no viable leads, and all the employees were tearing down shop. Alibis all around. Plus this girl said she saw a clown vanish into thin air. Cops are saying trauma, of course."

The more they talked about this, the more Alec started to wonder why the hell they just had to take this gig.

Dean chuckled under his breath, suddenly, then turned to Sam with the most evil grin Alec thought he'd ever seen on his not-quite-brother. "Well, I know what you're thinking, Sam. Why did it have to be clowns?"

Sam went stiff, then glared. "Oh, give me a break."

"What?" Alec asked, looking between the two of them with a little confusion. He'd missed something. Somewhere.

"Man," Dean laughed with a glance at Alec in the rearview mirror. "Little Sammy here used to cry when he saw fucking Ronald McDonald on tv. He's afraid of clowns." Dean snorted as if it was the funniest thing he'd ever heard, and suddenly Alec was very glad he hadn't made any comments about how he thought the damn things were creepy.

Huffing, Sam ground out, "Well, at least I'm not afraid of flying."

What? Afraid of flying? Alec looked at Dean, begging to hear that it wasn't so. Flying was one of the most awesome experiences ever.

"Planes crash!" Dean argued.

Sam snorted. "And apparently clowns kill!"

Alec rolled his eyes and settled back in the seat. He was just going to keep his mouth shut on this one. There was no way in hell he was admitting to having any kind of fear with these two around.

~*~*~

Well, so far there wasn't a single goddamned clown in sight, though lots of freaks bound for sideshow acts.

His cell phone buzzed in his pocket, and Alec slid it out just far enough to see that it was Max - again - as he followed Dean into one of the tents, Sam taking up the rear. They wanted to pose as carnival workers. That was just great. If anyone back home ever heard about this, he'd never live it down. Funny how Manticore had never thought to include classes on how to sweep up garbage or how to scrape chewing gum off of any available surface. Alec wrinkled his nose and fought to keep from gagging. Stale popcorn, spilt sodas, cotton candy, and stuff that wasn't as pleasant invaded his too-sensitive nose. Having super senses really sucked sometimes.

"Excuse me," Dean said, "we're looking for a Mr. Cooper, have you seen him around?"

There was something about the way the guy looked when he turned around that had Alec choking back a laugh, smothering it by coughing into his hand. Damn if older bro hadn't just walked into that one. Sam caught on pretty quick, too, and Alec was glad to see he wasn't the only one that was having trouble keeping it in.

"What is that, some kind of joke?" the carnival employee asked, taking off his glasses. And, right, just like he'd thought. Dude was blind. Alec snorted.

Dean stammered, "Oh. God, I'm, I'm sorry."

"You think I wouldn't give my eyeteeth to see Mr. Cooper? Or a sunset or anything at all?" the knife-thrower continued, glaring angrily with dead-looking eyes.

"You two wanna help me out here?" Dean asked over his shoulder.

"Not so much, no," Alec said with a grin, just as Sam offered up a "Not really."

See this? This wasn't that bad. This Alec could handle because he was damn sure he could get Dean out of the way quick enough if the knife-thrower got pissed off to the point that he started hurling actual knives.

It was probably picturing that hilarity in his head that kept Alec from realizing they'd been joined by someone else.

"Hey man, is there a problem?"

Alec absolutely did not laugh when he saw the little person glaring at Dean. He did not.

It was a close thing, though.

The knife-thrower gestured at Dean, "Yeah, this guy hates blind people."

This was where he and Sam should definitely step in and try to help, Alec told himself. He glanced at Sam to see if his brother looked like he was about to intercede. Nope. In fact, by the way Sam was grinning, cheeks pink, Alec was pretty damn sure Sam was on the same page as he was.

This was fucking funny.

"No, I don't, I..." Dean stammered, casting a look toward Alec that he steadfastly ignored. He wasn't getting involved in this. No way. Not unless there was a risk of violence.

Well, come to think of it, the little guy did sort of look like an ankle biter.

"Hey buddy, what's your problem?" the little guy demanded. And maybe it wouldn't have been so funny if it weren't for the damn red cape he was wearing. Alec smothered another laugh with a cough and wondered if Sam wasn't going to just explode from trying to hold it in.

"Nothing, it's just a little misunderstanding."

Oh. Oh, shit! Alec choked.

"Little?! You son of a bitch!"

Fifteen minutes later, when they'd saved Dean from the midget, found Mr. Cooper, and gotten hired on, Alec thought:

Well, even if this whole killer clown thing doesn't work out, we still had fun.

He just wished he'd gotten it all on videotape.

PART THREE

He must have given it away. Maybe a flinch when he saw one of the creepy ass mothers or maybe he’d shied away when one got too close, but Sam was giving Alec knowing looks. Something that was sort of like sympathy with a healthy dose of commiseration, followed with a little twist of the lips that was kind of like a smile, but more of a smirk. It said that he might understand the clown-fear – hell, he has it too – but that didn’t mean that Alec was going to just slide by with it. Not when Sam was teased by Dean.

Still, Sam was professional enough to not start in on him then and there while there was a job to finish. Which was good, because things were heating up. Quickly.

Alec didn’t know why clowns creeped him out so badly. Hell, the things he’d seen – done - there shouldn’t be any fears left in him. It could be Manticore’s fault, though. Wasn’t like he’d gotten a lot of quality kid time growing up. Never got to bond with those familiar icons of childhood, learn their good sides. The first time he’d ever seen a clown was when he was out on a mission, indulging in a little downtime before his target made an appearance. It had been in some sort of old movie, made back before the Pulse, about a monster that could turn into whatever kids were afraid of but always seemed to change back to a fucked up, psychotic clown, killing the kids.

This thing they were hunting – a Rakshasa – killed parents, just to be different. It seemed like a fucked up sort of reversal. Alec thought it was better the parents than the kids, to be honest. Kids dying was never an easy thing to cope with. Not even to murderous bastards like him.

Alec cast a glance over his shoulder. No clowns in sight. Not the normal kind or the kind that liked to kill people for fun and games. Or to eat. Alec really wasn’t sure which it was doing. That was probably something he should have paid more attention to when Sam was being research boy, but Alec had sort of zoned at the thought of killer clowns. That was the sort of rookie mistake that could get him killed. Or, worse, get one of his brothers killed. Pay attention. Stay alert. Don’t let your guard down. Retain. Remember. Weren’t those rules to live by?

Too late now, and it wasn’t like he could ask Sam to recap it for him because he was off scoping out Mr. Cooper to see if he was the son-of-a-bitch they were looking for. Dean, for his part, had taken off with an idea on where to get some brass blades, and Alec had volunteered just to stake things out, make sure nothing weird was going down. Which is what he was supposed to be doing. Not just standing there waxing poetic, trying to fucking psychoanalyze his stupid clown-phobia.

Alec palmed the gun concealed in the pocket of his jacket and took quick stock of where he was. Between a couple tents, near the wagons where the carnival staff made their homes. There really weren’t a lot of people around, which should have made things easier. Instead, it just made Alec feel exposed, like he was the one being hunted. He rolled his shoulders, forcing the muscles in his neck and back to relax. Being on the road with first John, now the brothers, had screwed with him in a lot of ways. Some good, some bad. On one hand, it felt nice to have a real family. The flip side was that he had people he cared about, people he didn’t want to see hurt. Not to mention that dialing down his natural instincts, the sheer deadliness of his existence, had softened him up some. He wasn’t the same carefree guy that had left Seattle, true, but that new weight on his shoulders hadn’t come with a sharper edge. He’d put on a mask for the Winchesters from day one, sure that they couldn’t handle what he was completely if they ever really knew what he’d done, what he was capable of doing. Wearing that kind of façade for so long took its toll.

His thoughts turned to the cell phone in the back pocket of his jeans, the calls that he’d deliberately not taken from Max. Speaking with her, for whatever reason, was like acknowledging a life he’d left behind.

That wasn’t something he was ready for.

As he turned to start poking his nose into the tents, one by one, Alec heard a gentle ‘thunk’ from somewhere behind him. It wasn’t an altogether dramatic sound. Over the other noises in the carnival, it was barely a whisper. At the same time, it was a sound that Alec knew. The sound of a blade wedging itself into wood. Whirling, Alec scanned. Where had it come from?

Then he heard it again, just as the door to one of the wagons burst open, Dean coming down the steps fast, breathing hard.

Sam was there suddenly, falling into step with him, and they met Dean together.

“It’s the blind guy,” Dean informed them, scowling. He waved a hand. “He’s around here somewhere.”

That definitely explained what Alec had heard: the knife hitting the wood. He’d bet anything that the old bastard had been throwing some of those deadly ass knives of his at Dean’s head.

Alec was so going to enjoy seeing this freak go down. “Did you get the –“

“Brass blades?” Dean finished, though the decidedly angry tilt of his mouth and flash in his eyes was all the answer Alec needed. “No, it’s been one of those days.”

Damn. Without a brass blade, they weren’t going to be able to kill the Rakshasa when they pinned it down. Hand-to-hand was all fine and good, but Alec didn’t like getting into fights he couldn’t win. That’s what it would be, too. Without a way to kill the son-of-a-bitch, Alec could punch and kick for as long as he wanted, and it wouldn’t make a difference.

Suddenly, Sam said, “I’ve got an idea. C’mon.”

Alec shared a look with Dean, who just lifted a brow as if to say ‘just follow him and ask questions later’, though it was clear that the eldest brother didn’t have a clue what little Sammy was up to, either.

There was something to be said about finding comfort in the fact that he wasn’t the only one that didn’t have a firm grasp on whatever plan was being set in motion. Not a good something, but something nonetheless. Planning wasn’t exactly something these two were very good at, Alec had to be honest. Usually, however, it was Dean doing the rushing in.

Just another example of how everything had gotten thrown off its axis with John’s death. Alec forced down a lump of pain, hating how his eyes pricked with the hot sting of tears even now, thinking about a death that shouldn’t have happened. Eventually things would go back to what passed for normal. It had to. All he had to do was be patient and wait for things to sort themselves out.

The second they entered the funhouse, things started to quickly go to hell. In the blink of an eye, so fast that Alec didn’t even have time to think about it, the door slid shut, effectively cutting him and Dean off from Sam. He swore, kicked at it, but the damn thing wouldn’t budge.

“Dean! Alec! Just find the maze, okay?”

“Find the maze,” Alec muttered under his breath, taking off through the halls of the funhouse, Dean at his side. They fell into easy step with each other, like they’d done it forever. Easy, effective. Like soldiers in the same unit that had trained together for years. The kind of understanding and bond that went beyond words, required no speech. Neither of them was leading; as one they just moved together. Find Sam. Make sure Sam is okay. It was like a fucking biological imperative. Eat. Sleep. Drink. Make sure that Sam lived to see another day. No, he hadn’t forgotten John’s last words. Watch out for Sammy.

Oh, and after they found Sam they were going to kill the goddamned freaky-ass, invisible, knife-wielding psycho and then get the hell out of dodge. It was a good plan, a Dean kind of plan.

They rounded a corner in time to see Sam pull at a pipe. For a second, Alec was confused, glancing between the hot pipe and Sam. Then, “Brass?”

“Brass,” Sam confirmed. He grabbed at the pipe again, just as that dreaded, all-too-familiar sound of a knife being thrown came out of nowhere.

“What the fuck?” Alec snapped, looking around. There had to be a way to see the damn thing.

“Shouldn't we see its clothes walking around?” Dean asked just as Alec shut his eyes. Without sight, he could only rely on his other senses. Namely: hearing.

More knives flew through the air, and Alec barely managed to dodge one of the hurled, slashing missiles. It came so close to his cheek that he felt the air part as it passed, whistling over his skin.

“Where is it?” Sam was insisting, and Alec wished that he could answer. There was too much noise for him to get a pin on the thing’s footsteps or the telltale rustle of the clothes Alec knew it had to still be wearing.

Then. Brilliance. The hiss of escaping steam made Alec’s eyes snap open, and the words to congratulate Dean for his quick thinking were on his tongue just as Dean shouted, “Sam, behind you! Behind you!”

Just like that… it was over.

Alec resisted kicking the corpse.

It was a close thing.

~*~*~

A quick stopover at the Roadhouse led to more frustration than satisfaction. Ash hadn’t been able to trace the demon, but he’d keep searching. Looking for signs and clues and, fuck, if that didn’t just beat all. They wanted a piece of this bastard, and it was fucking hiding.

“Hey,” Jo murmured, sliding onto the stool next to his.

Alec lifted his glass to his mouth, the smooth glass hovering so close to his lips that he could feel it right there, waiting to be moved that last fraction of an inch and deliver the waiting beer to his thirsty body. He gave her a half smile and a slightly husky, “hey yourself” in return before he drained it. Ellen was glaring at him. Dean and Sam were ready to go. Places to go, monsters to kill, and getting involved with Jo would be a bad idea to end all bad ideas.

Which was why he wasn’t going to do it. Not that he wasn’t tempted, but while they needed Ellen, Ash, and the contacts they could get at the Roadhouse, he wasn’t about to fuck it up with what would be nothing more than a screw, which was all it could ever be. He’d have to be blind and deaf not to know that she wasn’t the kind of girl he’d ever have something meaningful with. She was still a little girl, playing in a big girl’s world. Naïve and innocent, no matter what she thought about herself. While they needed her mom and Ash, he wasn’t going to fuck around with her.

When all that was said and done, though. Well, then he’d see if he couldn’t rip away some of that innocence she still oozed.

He stood up, leaving his empty glass on the counter, and threw Jo a smirk. “See you around, sweetheart.”

~*~*~

Back at Bobby’s junkyard, and Alec groaned when his cell phone started to ring again. He was watching Dean beat the hell out of the Impala, out in the yard. A breakdown that Alec had known was coming sooner or later, though he’d sort of expected later the way that Dean repressed things. Alec could understand, though. Hell, he’d done something pretty damn similar the first time he’d been out of Manticore’s sight after Rachel’s death. Beat the hell out of some poor inanimate object, bloodied and bruised his knuckles until he almost botched the job he’d been sent to do because of the pain. Dean was using a crowbar, though, not his hands, and Alec thought that was a smart move on his part. Beating the shit out of something with your bare hands was stupid even on the best of days.

Unable to take anymore of it, not even with Sam standing there looking just as worried as he was, Alec made up his mind and answered the cell phone, turning his back on the window and the meltdown of Chernobyl proportions that Dean was having. Going out there wouldn’t do a damn thing to help Dean, a little voice in the back of his head whispered. He knew it. Sam knew it. That was why they were in here watching, and Dean was out there not-so-quietly coping with his grief.

Some things a guy just had to do in private. Apparently that included having a nervous breakdown.

“What the hell do you want, Maxie?” Alec growled into the phone without bothering to wait for her to say a thing. Best just get straight to the point since he wasn’t really interested in having a conversation with her. At all.

Sam turned, looking at him with barely concealed curiosity. Alec was struck with the realization that this was the first time he’d ever acknowledged having contact with anyone outside of their little family group. There’d be questions now, no matter what, and Alec resigned himself to having to answer them.

“Not Max, not Max.”

Alec paused in mid-pace, frowning. Talk about someone he’d never thought he’ed be speaking to ever again. Not that he had anything against the tall-ass genetic freak, but still. Write off one person back ‘home’, write them all off. “Joshua? Why do you have Max’s phone?”

“Max gone, Alec. Taken.” The words came out in a rush, heavy almost-pained breaths wheezing down the phone.

“Wait. Hold on. Taken by who?” Stupid question. White, of course. Who else would both want to take Max and have the resources to get it done? That man was a serious pain in the ass.

Joshua’s heavy breathing trailed through the phone. “Don’t know, Alec. Max take Joshua out. They jumped her. Knocked her out. Joshua got shot, got away.”

Alec swallowed, not liking what he was hearing at all. “Think, Joshua, was it White?”

“Maybe. Yes.” Short, clipped. Joshua was really worked up over this. Then again, Max was one of the only friends the big guy had. Alec sighed and rubbed at his forehead with his hand, digging the palm in before dropping it. And the pain from the gunshot wound probably wasn’t helping, either. For the first time, Alec felt bad about not answering his cell phone when the first call came.

There was no love lost between him and Max. He could barely stand her, even on the best of days and damn if she didn’t feel the same way about him.

But he wasn’t going to just let White have her, either. Fucker didn’t deserve the satisfaction of ever getting what he wanted in life.

Which meant he had to go back to Seattle, figure out what the fuck had happened, and save Maxie’s sorry ass. Again. If she didn’t quit letting herself get grabbed by White one of these days he was going to just leave her to it.

Not this time, though.

“I’ll be there within a day, Joshua,” Alec snapped, hanging up the phone. He sighed angrily. If there were more details about what had happened, they’d have to wait until he got there, when he could calm Joshua down enough to get a coherent sentence out of him. If he stole a car and got on the road now, drove straight through the night, he could be back in Seattle within eighteen hours, by his best guess.

It would have to be soon enough.

“So where are we going?”

Alec’s head snapped up so quick, shock overtaking him so lightning fast, that he almost dropped the phone. He’d forgotten Sam was there. Alec shook his head. “I can go by myself. This isn’t your fight.”

“Yeah,” Sam agreed dryly. “Maybe it’s not my fight – but this whole demon thing wasn’t yours, and you stepped up to bat for us.” He frowned. “You want family, then you have to take us even when you’d rather not even know us.”

And wasn’t that just the crux of it? Because Alec felt something a little like fear. It wouldn’t be possible to keep hiding the darker parts of his past after this.

He could lose everything.

“Fine,” he muttered, staring Sam down even though he wasn’t at all sure this was what he wanted to do. It would all end badly. “Let’s just hope you still want to know me when this is over and done with.”

END

And the Bottom Falls Out - Pg13 - DA/SPN - AWV #9

Thu, 31 May 2007 13:30:42 GMT

Title: And the Bottom Falls Out
Series: Alec Winchester Verse
Author: Jinni (jinni.tth@gmail.com)
Rated: Pg13
Disclaimer: All things SPN belong to Eric Kripke, et al. All things Dark Angel belong to James Cameron, et al.
Notes: Takes place after “In My Time of Dying” in the AW Verse. ankhesenamen12, dhark_charlotte, and blue_icy_rose all asked for AW Verse drabbles. Instead of writing 3 100-word snippets, I wrote a 400+ word ficlet. Enjoy.
Summary: It’s hard to escape the pain.
Wordcount: 418

~*~*~

Pretty sure that he’d never felt so goddamned awful in his entire life – including all that bullshit torturous physical training and emotional abuse that Manticore had fed him for most of it – Alec wearily opened his eyes to stare at the ratty ceiling of the motel. His head was pounding. Didn’t matter if he was a transgenic and had a kickass metabolism or not if he was going to drink a bottle and a half of cheap whiskey, knocking back shot after shot like water, just to try to get to the point that he was blissfully numb.

He’d gotten there. That much he remembered. Numb. Completely wasted. In fact, he’d go as far as to say that he’d never been that drunk in his entire life.

And he was sort of hoping to never, ever get that drunk again. This seriously sucked.

He winced and rolled, arm flopping loosely on someone. Alec lifted his head. Sam. And, damn, was he drooling. Also? He was completely out for the count. Alec lifted his head enough to check that, yeah, Dean was on the other bed, also dead to the world, before flopping back down with a sigh and letting his eyes drift mercifully shut again.

The night before was a blur, and he wasn’t entirely sure that was a bad thing. Dad was… Alec shut his eyes tight, pressing back the hot, stinging tears that popped up. Dad was dead. He just was. And crying over it, moping about it, wasn’t going to bring him back.

Alec knew that.

Didn’t make it stop hurting, though.

So they’d set out to get drunk. Quickly, quietly. Without fanfare. Just them, some bottles of booze, and a crappy motel room, with Sam and Dean telling stories, remembering their old man as only they could. Alec hadn’t had much to contribute, but when the tide of conversation turned to childhood stories, he could remember fuzzily telling them about Manticore in detail. About how he’d been trained since he was just a kid.

Drinking and talking, talking and drinking. Until it was nothing more than a run-on in his head, memories getting sloppy, going in circles in his head. Alec groaned softly. It had been therapeutic at the time – almost making that hollow feeling nice and full again, not so empty.

Now he was paying the price for it: a hangover from hell.

Damn.

And the worst thing?

He didn’t feel any better about John being dead today than he had last night.

END

In My Time of Dying 2/2 - Pg13 - DA/SPN - AWV #8

Thu, 31 May 2007 13:28:48 GMT

Title: In My Time of Dying 2/4
Author: Jinni (jinni.tth@gmail.com)
Rated: Pg13
Disclaimer: All things DW belong to James Cameron, et al. All the SPN belong to Eric Kripke, et al
Notes: Part of the AW ‘Verse.

CHAPTER THREE

The conversation with John was short and frustrating, ending when the older man started to doze from his pain medication. Alec left the room scowling and too irritated to even think of him as ‘Dad’ or ‘family’.

What the hell was wrong with that man?

Demon this. Demon that. Didn’t the man care that his oldest son was lying in a fucking coma?

The fingers of Alec’s good hand flexed into a fist, and he actually lifted his arm and cocked it at the wall before he remembered where he was. Putting a hole through the wall probably would get him kicked out of here, at the very least. Harnessing his rage for the time being, sure that he would let it out the very next time he was alone and had a hard surface to beat the crap out of, Alec went back to Dean’s room.

…beep…beep….beep…

The noises of the machines hooked up to Dean were both haunting and reassuring. There shouldn’t have to be any machines in here monitoring him, making sure that he didn’t… didn’t…

Alec swallowed and shoved that thought to the very back of his mind. There was a pain in his chest that he didn’t like or welcome, but there was nothing he could do about it. Once again he was struck by the realization that he was in too deep to get out now. That he should have cut out the second that John had his back turned, right there at the beginning. Gotten far, far away from the man and his sons before he started to care Emotions were sneaky little bastards like that, though. They came up behind you and got you in a stranglehold when you weren’t looking.

And that was how he felt right then, watching over Dean. He rubbed tiredly at his eyes and then glanced at the simple watch around his wrist. Sam had been gone for a while. Hopefully he would be back soon because Alec was getting antsy sitting here by himself, and he’d be damned if he was going to go sit there with John anymore. Not until he calmed down.

It was odd. He had known since almost the moment he’d met the guy that he wasn’t father of the year material, but that hadn’t stopped him from coming to care about him, think of him as a surrogate dad. He’d seen the way that John didn’t contact his sons except when he had to, how he held them at arms length. How he was sometimes downright selfish in his pursuit for this demon that plagued the Winchester family. Alec had seen all that during the time he was with John. He knew about it. But it hadn’t felt real until when he’d stood next to John’s bed, trying to comprehend how the older man could lay there talking about plans for killing the demon, about Sam getting the Colt, about all these things that just shouldn’t be mattering with Dean in a goddamned bed hanging on for his very life.

Now Alec understood why Sam got so upset with John. Why he had such overriding anger towards the man sometimes. Because it’s all Alec can do not to feel the same way right at that moment. He’s used to feeling hate, scorn, and even anger – but not towards someone that he cares about. Maybe it’s because he hasn’t cared about too many people in his life or possibly just because no one had ever let him down like John did by acting like he had about the demon. The way he just hadn’t seemed to fucking care that his oldest son was in a hospital bed and might not wake up.

He was about to sit down when he heard a raised voice. Sam, he realized with a start. Sam yelling at John over whatever it was that John had wanted him to get from Bobby.

The fuck? Stuff to summon the damn demon? Alec couldn’t believe that he’d heard correctly and was one step toward the door when the machines hooked to Dean went off.

The steady ‘beep, beep’ became an alarm. Alec turned on his heel, staring wide eyed at the flat line, uncomprehending for a second because, fuck, this couldn’t be happening. It just couldn’t. Hands pushed him out of the way, off to the side, and Alec watched in numb horror as a doctor barked out orders. Prepping machines. He heard someone come up behind him, saw Sam out of the corner of his eye. Didn’t turn because it was all that he could do now to hold himself up and he was pretty sure that looking at Sam might fucking break him. He wouldn’t be weak in front of his ‘brother’, let alone perfect strangers like the ones working on Dean.

And if he could just hold tight to that sense of pride, maybe he wouldn’t feel like he was dying inside with every second that passed by. The wall at his back was the only thing holding him up, the firmness the only thing that was keeping him on his feet instead of in a useless pile on the floor.

The beeping returned just as suddenly as it had stopped, and Alec took a deep, gulping breath, oxygen-deprived lungs filling with air. How long had he held his breath, wondering if Dean would ever take another of his own? They aren’t connected, but Alec felt like it. Felt like he was the one that was dying.

“Hey,” Sam murmured from next to him, taking a spot on the wall next to Alec so that they were both now looking at Dean, both slightly out of breath from the fear that had held them captive for those moments. Minutes? Seconds? Alec didn’t know how long they’d waited to see if the doctors would be able to save Dean. Bring him back just one more time.

Alec licked his lips and cleared his throat. “Hey.”

“It’s going to be okay,” Sam said.

Sure it was, Alec wanted to say. Everything was going to be fine. But he couldn’t say that because right at that second he didn’t believe it. So instead he summoned up a weak, “Okay. Yeah, sure.”

Sam took his elbow, tugging on it. Alec looked up and saw Sam tilt his head towards the door. There was a tired, crooked smile on Sam’s lips when he said, “Look, c’mon. I want to go grab something from the store, and you look like you need to get away for a little while.”

Alec glanced at Dean. “What if he –“

“Man, there’s nothing we can do standing around here like this except drive ourselves crazy,” Sam said. Firmly. Using that voice that Alec wondered if he’d practiced just for dealing with his new ‘younger brother’. Something told Alec that it was just Sam’s normal not-taking-any-arguments tone, though.

Another glance at the bed made Alec sigh. Sam was right. There wasn’t a damn thing they could do for Dean, and while part of him didn’t want to leave Dean just in case the demon made another move, a bigger part of him needed to get the fuck out of his place before he lost it.

He still had a wall that he needed to beat up, anyway. Get rid of some of the nervous energy that was leaving him feeling like he was strung out and on edge.

“Yeah, okay,” Alec said, glad that his voice didn’t break at all despite the lump that formed in his throat as he looked away from Dean. “What d’you need from the store?

Despite everything, Sam’s grin grew. Though, it looked a little embarrassed around the edges. “You’ll see.”

~*~

This had to be one of the stupidest things that Alec had ever witnessed. He felt like he was at a fucking slumber party.

“I still can’t believe you’re doing this. Want me to braid your hair for you, paint your nails, maybe?” Alec muttered, giving Sam his best you’ve lost your mind look.

Sam cut a glare in his direction, pulling the Ouija board from its box. “You sound like Dean.”

Alec smirked. “Dean’s a smart guy.”

“Smart ass,” Sam corrected mildly.

Taking the jibe for the teasing insult it was meant to be, Alec squatted next to Sam. “You really think this is going to work? These things are hokey.”

Sam laughed under his breath. “Dude, everything we see and you can’t believe in something this simple? Just sit back and watch. If Dean’s here, then he’ll talk to us.”

This had to be one of the crazier things that Alec had ever seen in his life. Considering he’d seen a lot more since hooking up with John Winchester and learning about the ghosts and goblins in the world, Alec thought that was saying something. This, though? This was nuts.

“Dean…Dean are you there?”

The room was still except for the low whine of the machines, and Alec looked around, as if expecting something - anything - to happen. He rolled his eyes and looked back down at the board in front of Sam –

-- just as the plastic marker under Sam’s fingertips began to move.

CHAPTER FOUR

Alec stared at the empty bed where John Winchester should have been, hands clenching into tight fists at his sides. Nails dug into flesh, a brief biting pain. He understood the need to fight, to lash back at the things that caused pain and grief. Fuck, how he understood. But this was taking it too damn far. The sheets were still rumpled, and the bed was still warm where the other man had been lying when Alec ran a hand over it to check. Of all the stupid, foolish, selfish things to do!

Did he just not care that Dean could die? Was hunting the demon really all that mattered to him? Hell, he’d known that the Winchesters weren’t the typical family almost from the get go. Even knowing that, however, didn’t prepare him for this kind of outright lack of concern. Dad had asked Sam for ingredients to do a summoning; now he was gone without a word to either of them about what he was doing or where he would be.

It didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out what was up, and Alec didn’t like it at all.

“Damn it,” Alec swore heatedly, as anger uncoiled like a venomous thing within his stomach. When he got his hands on that man, he was going to shake him very hard. Maybe more. Father figure or not, this kind of shit just wasn’t cool.

Sam was so tense that Alec could see the fine tremor of his muscles as he fought just to keep himself under control. Alec could see the rage bubbling beneath the surface, flickers of sparkling anger in Sam’s eyes. He reached out and put a steadying hand on his brother’s shoulder, marveling still at how easy it was now to just think of him like that. Brother. Family.

Dysfunctional.

“Do you want me to try to find him?” Alec bit off quietly, knowing he stood about as good a chance as anyone. Maybe a little better. The fact remained, though, that he wasn’t a bloodhound. Not even part bloodhound. Funny how his creators hadn’t seen the need to throw those genes in. Super speed and strength, enhanced senses, and a quick regenerative ability. None of that necessarily made him any damn good at tracking one man in a crowded hospital when he didn’t want to be found. It wouldn’t be like combat maneuvers in the woods, tracking other Manticore kids. He didn’t say any of that to Sam, knowing that sometimes it was better to at least have the illusion that something might do some good, might be of use.

Didn’t matter, though, because Sam shook his head, massaging his forehead with one thumb, eyes shut like keeping them open would just perpetuate the anger that was festering in him like an open wound. “No,” he finally said with a sigh, eyes opening though Alec noted that he didn’t look at the empty hospital bed again. “It doesn’t matter. He’s going to do what he wants to do no matter what. Unless you found him and then knocked him out, of course.”

There was a brief moment where Alec saw something like interest flicker through Sam’s eyes. Obviously the idea of taking John down a notch appealed to him, and Alec couldn’t blame him for that. He was tempted to put the old man on his ass when - if - he saw him again. But then it was gone and nothing was left in his brother’s gaze except worry and anger.

“We don’t need him,” Sam muttered. “We can figure this thing out ourselves. Dean is not going to die.”

Alec couldn’t tell if Sam was trying to convince himself, Alec, or both of them, so he just nodded.

Everything seemed to happen very fast after that. Worrying about whether or not Dean would wake up, mentally offering up more threats to Dean’s continued well being if he should happen to die – and Alec was pretty sure after being a part of this fucked up family that there was a ritual or spell or… something to bring Dean back long enough for him to kick his ass if he were to let him down and do that whole dying thing. Then there was listening to Sam beg Dean in his own, quiet, passionate way, not to give up. To just keep holding on. Finally getting back to being brothers, Sam said, while Alec was out in the hallway. He was pretty sure that Sam didn’t know Alec could hear him. They tended to forget about his heightened senses most of the time, and Alec sure as hell wasn’t going to mention overhearing Sam’s little impassioned plea.

Then Dean was awake.

Alec thought it was weird, the way that he just suddenly woke up, like he hadn’t been, literally, on his death bed. But he didn’t say a word about it. To be perfectly honest, he didn’t really give a fuck because Dean was alive and well and the Doctor said that he was fine. All those problems that the hospital staff had worried about? Gone. Wasn’t that what they’d wanted? Some miraculous cure or intervention to make Dean all better?

Yeah, sure, it was definitely not normal the way that Dean was suddenly back to being almost a picture of health. So. What. Alec wasn’t going to question it if it meant that his brother was back.

Maybe Dean and Sam had just gotten back to being brothers, but Alec and Dean were just starting. Happy didn’t begin to describe how he felt standing next to Dean’s bed though he was pretty sure he was doing a damn good job.

”And you don’t remember anything?” Sam asked Dean.

Had Dean beat death? A reaper is what Dean had told them – via the apparently not-so-hokey Oijia board technique - was after him. According to Sam, that was the kind of badness that you just didn’t get away from. Not if it was your time to go. Everything had pointed towards it just being Dean’s time, no matter how much they didn’t want it to be and weren’t going to let it just go without doing every damn thing they could to stack the odds in Dean’s favor.

And yet, Dean was still with them. Alive. Kicking. Awake. Maybe this wasn’t the type of thing that he should be questioning. They’ll all be out of here soon and –

Dad.

Alec felt a weight lift off his chest at the sight of the older man, followed quickly by a resurgence of the anger he’d felt earlier when they found out he’d wandered off to do fuck knew what. It was lightning hot, slipping through his veins like molten lava, revving him up. All those enhancements, those gifts he never asked for, in his body came alive, tensing and preparing for a fight. John…Dad… whatever – he’d had the stuff to summon the demon, and then he’d left. Like he said, it didn’t take a genius to put two and two together to get four with that kind of evidence hanging right there. Yeah, he had promised Sam he wouldn’t go after the demon. So fucking what. Alec didn’t think for one second that John wouldn’t break a promise if he thought, somewhere in that twisted head of his, that he was doing the right thing. Problem was, John’s idea of right didn’t necessarily match up with anyone else’s.

He would’ve done well at Manticore. Get the job done, no matter what, at any cost. And the thought of John being anything like those traitorous creeps from Manticore was almost enough to break Alec and send him from the room.

Almost.

Before Alec could say anything, do anything, Sam was doing it for him. All that rage and irritation that his brother was feeling, bubbling out, and Alec rocked back and forth on his feet. Up on to his heel, back down, hands shoved in his jean pockets so that he didn’t do something stupid like throw a punch at the closest thing to a parent he has ever known.

Wait…hold on… what? Dad was trying to calm Sam down? Was saying that he didn’t want to fight?

Something wasn’t right.

Alec opened his mouth to ask what the hell was going on, only to shut it again at the look that Dad shot him. A silent request: not now. If Sam noticed, he didn’t say anything. Just left with a bewildered look on his face to get the coffee that Dad had asked for.

Manticore had trained Alec to know when to keep his mouth shut, to watch and observe and be the best little soldier-slash-spy-slash assassin that he could be.

They hadn’t trained him to be human, though. Or to deal with the kind of emotions that he was finding himself confronted with because of John and Dean and Sam.

They sure as fuck hadn’t taught him what to do when a father figure started to give what sounded like a going away speech. One of those Hallmark moment deals. The kind that ended with I’ll be seeing ya and a big hug.

Or what to do when that same dad told him and Dean something about Sam that shook them both. Alec swallowed thickly, painfully. No. That wasn’t going to happen. He looked at Dean, knew that they were a mirror of shock for each other. Neither of them were even paying attention when Dad left the room.

“I –“ Dean began, then stopped. He shook his head, and Alec nodded. Yeah, he understood. There was complete agreement between the two of them. Unspoken. Silent. Like they really were just one person, sharing a mind and will. They weren’t going to let it happen. No way. No how. Sammy… Sammy would be okay. There just wasn’t any other choice in Alec’s mind. Fuck the demon. Fuck destiny and all that other bullshit.

Sam was going to be fine.

“It’ll be okay,” Alec offered firmly, echoing the very same words that he and Sam had said back and forth to each other the whole time Dean had been in a coma. One problem traded for another. That was all they seemed to ever do.

Dean nodded. Muttered, “Yeah. ‘Course it will.”

He didn’t sound any more sure than Alec had been, though.

Soon as they were out of here and he and Dean could get Dad alone, they’d have a real sit down talk about this. Between the three of them they’d find a way to make sure that what John had said to them never came to pass.

”We –“ Alec began, but Sam’s sudden shout cut him off.

“NO! DAD! HELP!”

Alec was running, sliding on the linoleum, Dean just a few steps behind. They crowded the doorway, shoulders and arms touching.

Death was no stranger to Alec. He’d witnessed it before. Hell, he’d caused it and come close enough to meeting it up close and personal himself, too.

Never before had he felt so powerless. This even went beyond what he’d felt waiting for Dean to wake up.

He held his breath and hoped. Prayed to the same God that he was pretty sure didn’t care a damn thing about him, hoping He’d have some sort of affection for John, at least. A good man, that was what he was. He fought the good fight. Kept the darkness at bay.

He saved lives.

He wasn’t perfect.

He cared about his family, even if he didn’t know how to show it.

He was determined not to let the bad things in the world win.

He was…

“Time of death…”

… dead.

END

In My Time of Dying 1/2 - Pg13 - DA/SPN - AWV #8

Thu, 31 May 2007 13:20:31 GMT

Title: In My Time of Dying
Author: Jinni (jinni.tth@gmail.com)
Rated: Pg13
Disclaimer: All things SPN belong to Eric Kripke, et al. All things Dark Angel belong to Fox, et al.
Notes: Next in the Alec Winchester ‘verse.
Spoilers for SPN 2x01 – In My Time of Dying
Summary: Alec accepts that he considers the Winchesters to be his family, only a little too late for one of them.

~*~*~

Everything was covered in the inky darkness of a head wound when Alec started to swim his way back to consciousness. He came to fully just in time to hear Sam threaten the truck driver with the Colt, saw the billow of demonic energy leave the man, and ground his teeth together in frustration when the poor sap started bemoaning the fact that he had, however unwillingly, been the instrument of the carnage that they were currently stuck right in the middle of. Whining was annoying even when he wasn’t hurting. Which meant that right then, with the pain that was currently screaming through his aching body, Alec really wasn’t in the mood for it.

“He’s gonna go get help,” Sam muttered, though it seemed to Alec like he was just talking mostly to himself. Reassurance, sort of. Trying to make himself believe that help would be there soon. There was a bit of panic in his voice, though, when he next spoke, “Dad? Dean?”

There was no response from the back. Alec twisted in his seat, ignoring the searing pain that went through him. The arm closest to the door was definitely broken, and he could feel stickiness on the skin of his neck and back. Something had cut him. Maybe glass from the window. Getting up and getting the hell out of this car before paramedics arrived was high on his list of things that he needed to do.

He managed to turn enough to see into the back seat. Well, he could see Dean anyway. Damn if his ‘twin’ didn’t look like death warmed over. Well, not even warmed over. He just looked dead. Blood covered his face and his eyes were shut. Alec forced himself to stay calm, to watch Dean. There. He was still breathing. That was good.

“Can you see John?” he heard himself ask, voice sounding thick and slow even to his own ears. “Sam,” he said, louder, when Sam didn’t answer him. He turned, gritting his teeth against the pain that came with every movement, to look at the other man. Sam was leaning back, mouth hanging open, breathing far too hard. Fuck, Alec hoped help got here soon.

Speaking of which, he needed to get ready to get the hell out of there. No way that he could go to a hospital. He had enough field med to take care of his broken arm and make sure that he didn’t heal with a scar. Transgenic genes would take care of the rest. A week to week and a half and he’d be good as new. He wasn’t worried about his injuries. They’d heal.

Right now he was worried about Dean and John, so very quiet in the back seat. Hurt and maybe dying. He felt cool rage wash through him. This demon had fucked with his family long enough. When they were all better, they were going to finish this once and for all.

Alec put his attention on getting out of the car, forcing his emotions to the background as he heard Sam continue to try to get a response from the men in the back of the car. The door on his side was crumpled inward, buckled under the impact from the semi. Truth be told, Alec knew he should feel damn lucky that he hadn’t gotten more hurt than what he was. Using his left hand, he tugged uselessly at the handle of the door, not really expecting it to work. Good thing, too, because it didn’t. He twisted at it, pulling and prying with all the strength he could work up. Maybe if he’d had both arms in working order he would have stood a chance.

“Dad’s breathing,” Sam said so quietly that Alec almost didn’t hear him above his own attempts to get free of the car.

“Good,” Alec grunted. He gave one last push at the door and sighed, leaning his head back. “I’ve got to get out of here before help comes, you know that, right? I can’t get taken to a hospital.”

“You’re hurt,” Sam said. “You need to get looked over.”

“Sam,” Alec said slowly, firmly. He opened his eyes and turned his head to the side so that he could look at Sam. “Not completely human, remember? Those doctors get me in there and they’ll be poking and prodding on me in no time. Won’t take long for the people that want to find my kind come looking for me, either. I’ll be fine.”

More worried about Dean and Dad, Alec thought, but didn’t say, letting his mental slipup on the ‘Dad’ part of it all slide for the moment. Unwilling to delve any deeper into those feelings when they were all in one hell of a situation and he wasn’t sure how many, if any, of them would make it out.

No, they would. They had to.

He wasn’t about to lose his family now that he’d found them. Even if they were dysfunctional as all fuck, sort of violent, and more sarcastic than –

… come to think of it, that sounded like the perfect family for someone like him.

There was enough room for him to climb out through the broken window, Alec realized upon further inspection of the door. He’d end up cutting himself some more, but that was just the risk he was going to have to take.

“Alec –“

“Fuck, Sam, I wouldn’t go if I didn’t have to,” Alec cut him off, knowing what was coming before the words even left Sam’s lips. “C’mon, man. Be logical. I’ve got to get out of here before the paramedics and cops turn up. I’ll meet you at the hospital, though. Just call me and give me the address when you get there.”

He didn’t say just how he planned on doing that because to be honest Alec didn’t know. Hitchhiking in his current state just wasn’t feasible. No one in their right mind was even going to slow down for someone that looked as ragged as he did. There was the very real possibility that he’d have to hike all the way to the nearest town and figure things out from there. Hot-wiring the first car he came across was the best plan that he could come up with and most likely was what would end up happening.

“You’ll call me?” Alec prompted Sam, already beginning to twist his body so that he could haul himself out of the car with his good arm. The cell phone’s weight in his pocket was a comfort. He wouldn’t be completely cut off from his family, even if he couldn’t go with them to the hospital.

“Yeah,” Sam said, and Alec could tell that he was holding back, wanting to argue more about the fact that Alec was leaving, but not having any reason why him sticking around would be even a remotely good idea.

Alec ground his teeth together as he reached up to grab the outside top edge of what was left of the car’s window. His back brushed against broken glass as he gingerly pulled himself up and out of the bent remains of the car, sitting precariously on the edge of the sill. He could feel Sam’s eyes on him, knew that his ‘brother’ was watching him with concern that wasn’t that unfounded. Alec was hurting. He needed to set his arm soon, before that superior Manticore-bred healing kicked in and it began to mend incorrectly. Minimal blood loss from his other injuries, though, so he supposed he should count himself lucky for that much.

He fell when he tried to hoist himself the rest of the way out of the car. Tumbling backwards, landing hard on his ass, his broken arm jostling painfully from the impact. A cry left Alec’s lips.

“Alec?!?”

“’M fine,” Alec muttered, then repeated a little louder to make sure Sam heard him. He got to his feet slowly, assessing for further injuries as he went. Legs were all banged up, but nothing too serious. Just the arm and a handful of deep cuts to worry about.

He’d live.

Which was more than he could guarantee for Dean and John right at that moment, a thought that continued to worry him. Alec tried to keep from looking into the back seat, not wanting to see just how bad it really was, but he couldn’t help himself either. He peered in through the busted glass, looking over the two men there. Help would be here soon, he told himself, more because he needed to ‘hear’ it than because he believed it.

The sky was getting lighter, the sun rising quickly now that night was beginning to fall away. Alec forced himself to look away from Dean and John, to not dwell on that which he absolutely could not change. There was a brief moment where he thought about getting them out of the backseat, at least. He could do that much, right? Higher logic took over quickly, though, reminding him that he could do more harm than good by trying to move them. Let the paramedics do that when they got here.

“Call me,” Alec ordered one more time, moving around the front of the car to Sam’s side. He squatted next to the car, balance wobbly, and looked up at Sam.

“I will,” Sam told him, voice tired.

Alec wanted to say that he was sorry that he had to go. Wanted to say that he was worried about the three of them. Wanted to say so fucking many things… but couldn’t. The words just wouldn’t come. There was movement in the truck, the driver sitting there looking dazed. Presumably he’d already used his cab radio to call for help. Alec stared at him, unseeing, wishing that he could blame the man for what had happened but knowing he couldn’t all at the same time. It wasn’t his fault that he’d gotten possessed. Shit like that happened.

Okay – not to normal people. Not usually.

“Go on,” Sam said, more firmly, breaking through Alec’s thoughts. “There’s nothing you can do right now, and you were right. You can’t get taken to the hospital. That’s the last thing we need right now. Some overzealous doctor getting hold of you.”

Alec nodded and stood, laying a hand on Sam’s shoulder. He squeezed gently and turned, forcing himself not to look back. Knowing that if he did, he’d have a harder time of things. There was a patch of trees that he could hide in until the paramedics got here, though, because he’d be damned if he was going to start hiking to town without first making sure that his family was safe.

When all of this was over and done with, Alec silently vowed, that demon was going to be sorry it had ever heard the name Winchester.

PART TWO

Alec hated hospitals.

Hated them. The smells and sounds. Hell, even the fucking sight of a hospital made him want to turn on his heel and walk the other way.

Despite that inclination here he was, walking into a hospital. Man, the things he did for family.

He took a deep breath as he set foot inside and grimaced, the smell of antiseptic, blood, and sickness washing through him almost immediately. Goddamn super senses. Sometimes being a transgenic just fucking sucked.

Then again, being more than human had its benefits, too. Most of his cuts and scrapes were already healed. His arm was set and in a sling thanks to a house he had turned over along the ten mile hike to the hospital. Thankfully, the homeowner had been close to his size, so he’d been able to grab a new set of clothes after he took a shower in the cramped little bathroom. At least he looked presentable when he stepped into the hospital, even if he wasn’t comfortable with being there.

Too much could go wrong in a place like this, and he wasn’t talking about people dying. Some overeager doctor got his hands on him and it would be all over. He’d be on the run again. Nothing new, there. But this would be different. Agent White had no reason to look for him this far from Seattle – unless Alec gave him a reason.

Pushing aside his unease, Alec made his way to the floor Sam had given him when he called. Sam was okay and that was all that Alec knew. His ‘brother’ had refused to comment on the state of either of the other Winchesters. That worried Alec more than he wanted to admit. Dad and Dean hadn’t looked too good last time he saw them. Dean most especially. He was worried about both of them, even though he wasn’t about to admit it out loud, and certainly not to Sam.

The elevator dinged and Alec found himself at the end of a long hall. Damn, but they kept these places dark and gloomy, didn’t they? Was enough to make him not want to be here even more than he already did. How were people supposed to get better when they were in a place that was this overcome with shadows and despair?

Towards the end of the hall, someone stood up. Tall, lanky. Must be Sam, Alec thought, narrowing his eyes. Yeah. It was Sam.

But Dean and Dad were nowhere in sight.

Ignoring the spike of fear that realization created, Alec started down the hall, waiting until he and Sam met in the middle to say a word.

“Hey.”

“Hey,” Sam answered. His face was scratched up, Alec tried to note dispassionately but really only ended up feeling like he wanted to hunt this demonic sonofabitch down and tear him apart with his bare hands. It had hurt his brothers. It had hurt his dad.

Fuck if that didn’t put the demon on his shit list for the rest of its hopefully short life.

“So,” Alec drawled, looking around. “Where’re they at?”

Sam went a little pale. His lips pressed together so hard that there was the risk that they’d never have color again. Alec felt that small tremor of fear get bigger, filling his stomach with sick anxiety.

“Are they –“ Alec began, unable to form the words no matter how hard he tried. Are they dead wasn’t the kind of question he’d thought he’d be asking about any of his new family anytime soon. Sure, this was a dangerous life, but he’d never really stopped to think about the fact that one of them might get seriously hurt. Or killed. Not until recently. It didn’t sit well with him. There wasn’t anyone back in Seattle he could honestly say he cared enough about to be sad if they were hurt or died. Not so with this family.

Damn emotions. Manticore would have done a lot better to breed those traitorous feelings out of them. Saved everyone a lot of trouble.

“No, no!” Sam said in a rush. “They’re both… alive.”

Alec looked at Sam sharply. “You don’t sound so sure about that. Just tell me already.”

Sam sighed and jerked his chin over his shoulder. “It’s Dean, man.”

~*~*~

Staring down at someone that pretty much looked just like you did, when they were hooked up to machines and in a fucking coma? Not something that Alec ever wanted to repeat.

“Damn,” he cursed softly, looking at Dean’s prone form. Then, “Fuck.”

“Yeah,” Sam said softly. “But don’t worry. We’ll find something… someway to get him out of this. I don’t care what the doctors say.”

Which told Alec that the doctors weren’t particularly hopeful about Dean’s condition. Alec swallowed down the panic that surged in his chest. He nodded once, shortly.

“Dad’s awake a couple rooms down,” Sam continued. “He wants me to go get the Colt from the car and get some stuff from Bobby. You want to come with me or –“

“I’ll stay here,” Alec interrupted. He looked at Sam and gave him a half-smile. “Should have someone watching out for them, right? Just in case.”

Sam nodded. “I’ll be back soon.”

He didn’t immediately go see John after Sam left. The idea of leaving Dean all by himself when he was so fucking helpless made Alec’s stomach churn with apprehension. If the demon were to come in here and Dean were alone – that would be it. Lights out, show over. Nothing more to be said or done.

Alec wasn’t going to let that happen. Dad was alive and well, from what Sam had said. Which meant that he could wait until Sam got back to go see him. Maybe he was just being paranoid, but whatever.

Pulling a chair up near the bed, Alec slouched down and got comfortable, his eyes fixed on his double.

“You sure as hell better not die,” Alec told his comatose double. “Don’t make me kick your ass.” He paused and sighed. Loudly. Wasn’t like anyone was around to hear him, right? “It’s not like I asked for a family, you know. I didn’t ask to care about you guys. So if you could just do me a favor and not make me regret that little slipup anymore than I already am, I’d appreciate it. Thanks.”

There was no response from the bed.

Alec hadn’t really expected one, but the silence still felt like a cold slap to the face.

~*~END THIS PART~*~