Author: Restive Nature
Genre: Crossover
Type: WiP
Shows: Dark Angel and Supernatural
Disclaimer: Neither show represented in this fiction belongs to me. Dark Angel is the product of Cameron/Eglee and Fox, whereas Supernatural is the product of Kripke and The CW. No profits are made from this fiction and it is intended for private enjoyment only.
Story Rating: PG-13 up to NC-17 for language, violence and sexual situations. (All higher rated material will be contained in its own chapter and clearly marked at the beginning of the chapter. PG versions of these chapters will also be available.)
Chapter Rating: PG-13 for language.
Timeline/ Spoilers: This story takes place predominantly in the Supernatural timeline. This means that the Dark Angel structure of post-pulse America does not fit in. The massive changes will be that Manticore is decades ahead of itself and the characters from DA are born much earlier than portrayed on the show. There is no Pulse occurring. Any other changes to the structures or episodes of the shows will be (hopefully) explained within the story itself.
Pairing: None at this time. (The pairing will become evident as the story progresses, but much further down the road.)
Summary: Change can be a choice and you never know where the road you choose to take will lead you.
When It Changes
Chapter Six
Unheralded Lessons
Max couldn’t sleep, still. After her fears had been laid to rest, as well as they could be by the Winchester men, John had led her back to bed. This time, she didn’t try to read, watch TV or any of the other tricks she’d seen Sam pull in the last few days to stay up later. She simply lay down, pulled the covers up as high as they’d go and stared up at the ceiling. All was quiet around her then and she heard Sam slowly drift off to sleep. She realized then that John and Dean were waiting for her to fall asleep as well, so she’d let her eyes drift shut and evened out her breathing.
The following conversation made little sense to her. All she could garnish was that John had been looking for something. What it was, she had no idea. The ideas that ran rampant through her mind ranged from the mundane to the terrifying. They could be searching for anything, although she felt that it was more a thing they searched for, not a person. And they didn’t talk long enough to fill in any missing details. Such as what exactly were the clues John had found? What article had he been referring to and in what newspaper? Did John suspect that Max was more than they’d assumed? That was the one that kept her awake most of the night.
When Max awoke early the next morning, nothing in her mind had been resolved. She had a few choices before her. She could ask them what was going on. But in her experience, children were commanded, not included and explained to, unless the information was vital to their survival. She could wait it out and gather information as she could. Or she could leave. John had said that she could at any time. If she did attempt that, their reaction would be telling. If they let her go, then she eliminated from the list of things John and Dean were worrying over. But that would mean that she would have to leave and right now, this traveling family was her best bet for anonymity and the chance to search for her siblings.
On the other hand, if they refused to let her go, then she’d know something was up. And she’d reveal herself further trying to escape them. So it seemed her best bet was to wait and keep her eyes and ears open. She also needed to find an ally. Sam seemed the obvious choice, since he was so much closer to her own age. But that also was a strike against him. Since at times, Sam seemed as in the dark as she was being kept. So Max considered the two options left. Dean or John.
She thought over what her impressions were of these two men. She’d been going on gut instinct lately, honing whatever Manticore had provided in her genetics and training. But in this instance, her own survival was a far better teacher. And while she felt that she could trust them, she also realized that she felt at home with them because there was a structure similar to Manticore in place with them. John had the bearing of a military man. He ran his family as if it were a unit. There were brief moments when fatherhood shone through and he reveled in his pride of his children. But he seemed careful to keep those moments brief and extremely private. He tended to play things very close to the chest.
Dean was very much like his father. But he had seemed to develop an intense protective stance over his family. And while she was not part of the family, because she was a child and female to boot, Dean’s protection extended a great deal to her. And there was also the fact that he just seemed to plain out and out like her. He didn’t seem to mind that his father paid attention to her or complimented her. It didn’t bother him that she was the outsider. Max mused on that and decided that she could work with that. Her only problem would be how much information she might have to share back. Leaving the comfort of her bed, Max slipped into the bathroom to continue ruminating on her thoughts.
As soon as he heard the bathroom door shut, John’s eyes popped open. He’d taken a pillow and blanket and laid himself out on the floor to sleep. It wasn’t a bad place, since the carpeting was shag. But he still wondered who was up at six in the morning after the previous evening. He sat up and checked the beds, noticing immediately the twin lumps in the boy’s bed. He hauled himself up to his knees and saw that Max’s bed was empty. He wondered if the call of nature had woken her up. He reclined and waited, but when he heard the shower start, he knew he better get up. The temptation to go back to sleep was whispering seductively in his ear.
Slowly, he swiped the pillow and blanket from the floor. He set the pillow in a chair and folded the blanket, not quite back to its pristine folding of the evening before, but he was too tired to care. Rubbing a hand over his face, he moved silently about the room, gathering up his morning essentials. The shower turned off in fifteen or so minutes, but Max didn’t come out for several minutes. When she finally did poke her head around the door, John was surprised to see he still wrapped in a towel.
“Uh, forgot my clothes,” she explained sheepishly. John smiled. It was a common occurrence with the boys before she’d come along. Of course, back then, they’d thought nothing of getting dressed wherever they had to.
“Go ahead and grab them,” John told her congenially. “I can wait.” Max nodded and hurried to just grab her duffel and take it back to the bathroom with her. The door clicked shut and this time it woke Dean. He came to wakefulness with a jerk and his eyes scanned the room swiftly. John sat still, letting his son wake up before talking to him.
“Max is finishing up in the bathroom,” John told him. Dean nodded and let his head flop back down to the pillow. His nose twitched as he settled back and John had the sudden impish urge to rip the covers back from his eldest child. In fact, why did John have to be awakened at this ungodly hour and suffer alone? He discounted Max because she was the one that had instigated the waking up process.
With a deadly grin, John darted forward from his seat to put action to thoughts. He grasped the end of the blankets covering his sons and with an expert flip of his wrist had yanked them from the boys’ forms.
“Dad!” Dean yelled, sitting upright in one fluid motion, his hands grasping for the covers.
“Dean,” Sam whined in a sleepy voice. “Quit hogging the covers!”
“’S not me dingbat,” Dean grumbled, still trying to get the covers back with one hand, the other going to shove Sam in the shoulder.
“Rise and shine boys!” John boomed as he rolled the sheets and blankets into a large ball. “Up and at ‘em.” Both boys continued to grumble at their father and John wondered where the heck the gung ho boys he’d been raising had disappeared to. Of course, they’d grown lax the past week, since Max had joined them. It was a little difficult explaining to a ten year old girl why John carried over so many of his marine exercises in discipline into civilian life.
“Attention!” he roared. That caught both boys attention. They stared at him in disbelief. He was pulling this routine now? “Fall in!” He waited to see if they were going to start moving. They were, reluctantly. “Front and center!” he barked and that got them moving. But before they could even manage to get off the bed, a little dark haired blur beat them to it.
John was astonished to see little Max standing three feet before him. Her clothes were just on, her hair still wet. But she was standing at perfect attention. John fought a smile, even as another piece of the little mystery in the back of his head found a new place in his mind. Whoever she was, wherever she was from, little Max obviously came from a family with military background. Sam and Dean had finally caught up and were standing on either side of Max. Sam was on Max’s right; John’s left as he was facing him. And it was strange, but as far as John could see; the boys were sloppy, compared to Max. He kept them standing there for a few minutes and could see the boys eying Max with interest and wonder. And however she was doing it; she seemed to inspire the boys to stand up a little straighter. This was good.
“At ease,” he told them quietly. With precision, Max’s arms went from straight at her sides to an equally straight fold behind her back as her right foot moved exactly eighteen inches to the right. Her balance set, she still kept her face and eyes straight ahead. John raised an eyebrow. Sammy still had to check himself to make sure he had the proper stance. Once he’d taken this in, John eased back.
“The mission ahead of us today children is car repair,” he began, making it light and gentle. “At 0700 hours, the car, a wounded ’67 Chevy Impala, black, deserted along the roadside will be retrieved. By 0900 I expect a diagnostic report, at which time you will also eat breakfast. Your assignments are as such. Samuel,” he turned and stood before Sam
“You young man, are to find the number and addresses of any mechanical or supply shops, garages. Provide them to me once they are found,” he moved to stand before Dean. “Your assignment Dean is to retrieve, if possible, the said vehicle. If you are unable to perform this task, report back to me immediately.”
“Yes sir,” Dean snapped off, though his face was smooth and soft, still sleepy-eyed. John nodded once and moved tentatively before Max. He was wondering if he should send her for breakfast. But he didn’t want her going alone.
“Permission to speak sir,” Max piped up, a little apprehensive. John looked into her gamine little upturned face.
“Permission granted.”
“Request permission to accompany Private Dean on his assignment,” Max asked. John had to immediately stifle a laugh as Dean bristled beside her.
“Why?” John asked.
“Two sets of eye are better than one,” she replied promptly. “And the Private may require extra hands.” John nodded. It was sound enough reasoning and those were Max’s assigned chores. It also took care of what to do with her.
“Permission granted,” he said. And again, to his surprise, Max moved back to attention and snapped off a perfect military salute. He responded in kind, not even thinking about it. He stepped back to look at all of them.
“Fall out,” he stated simply. Sam and Dean snapped back to attention and all three offered a salute. They broke apart, Max waiting until Sam and Dean had moved away from her before she returned to grab her bag out of the bathroom. She smiled shyly up at John as he passed her on his way into the bathroom.
“Do you guys do that a lot?” he heard her asking the boys. He closed the door on their affirmative answer.
Dean watched the road as he and Max walked along the side of the highway. His father had given him precise directions to the car. And had stated that it was less than a mile out of town. They’d been walking a while now, and would be there soon if John’s information was accurate. The pair hadn’t said much and both were content it seemed to leave it that way. Dean was still wondering why Max had wanted to accompany him. On the surface that was fine with him. The kid was good with cars and her mind was like a sponge when he gave her information.
The little scene in the motel room puzzled him though. She’d responded to John’s orders like a professional, something she was much too young to be. And like his father, he was leaning towards the idea that she’d been brought up in a similar situation as he and Sam had. Somewhere in her life was a military background. He just wondered if it was the Marines, like his father.
“Hey Max,” he called suddenly. Her head turned to look up at him, though he saw her eyes darting back to the road occasionally. It was an understandable precaution, seeing as how last week she’d been hit with a car. “I was just wondering, did you grow up in a military family?” She hesitated for a moment and he wondered if the whole subject was going to be a sore point for her. But then she nodded. “Which branch?” he asked gently.
“Army,” she replied softly.
“Oh,” he smiled. “So snapping to attention is nothing new to you?”
“Not really,” she admitted. “It was an every day kind of thing.”
“Us too,” he admitted. “Although not recently. I think Dad didn’t want to scare you.” He quickly ruffled her short hair and she ducked away from him, her hand racing up to smooth down her hair.
“I hate being short,” she grumbled under her breath. Dean chuckled. He could see why it bothered her.
“So who was in the Army in your family?” he probed further, trying not to sound like he was interrogating her.
“Everyone,” she answered easily, though she didn’t meet his eyes.
“Your mom and dad?” he tried to clarify. And just as swiftly he saw her face shut down.
“I don’t think my… mom,” she breathed out shakily. Dean waited for her to go own. “After I was born… she was gone.”
“Gone how?” Dean asked. “Did she die?” he asked gently, considerately. Max shrugged, her face looking pinched.
“I don’t know,” she answered truthfully, the words slightly pained. “She was just, gone. I don’t know if she’s alive or dead.” Again Dean sensed it was the truth, but he also had the sense that there was more to the story she wasn’t telling him.
“That’s gotta suck,” he sighed.
“I wish I could find her,” Max started, but she didn’t seem to know how to continue. “I want to ask her…”
Dean felt pity welling up in his chest. He pulled Max close for a one armed hug as they walked. “I know what you mean kid. There’s a lot of stuff I wish I could ask my mom.” Max stared up at him, feeling strangely connected to this boy.
“But we can’t,” she ended for him. He nodded and let her go. They continued to walk and just as John said they would, rounded a slight curve and the Impala came into view. It was completely off the road. John had seen to it that it wouldn’t have been a road hazard. And Dean was thankful that it was still there. Any number of people could have caused it to have been towed. He picked up his pace and was glad to see Max did the same.
Later, as they were checking the engine over, Dean tried getting a little more information out of her. “So Maxie, if your whole family is in the Army, how many people does that make?”
“Lots,” she answered quickly. “All my brothers and sisters.” Again there was that grain of honesty and something left unsaid. This surprised Dean, since he’d gone under the assumption that she’d only have a few siblings. Eva certainly, maybe one or two more.
“And how many is that?” he grunted while he looked over the battery.
“Um,” Max averted her face.
“Or are they just like brothers and sisters?” he smiled, thinking that perhaps he’d found the right question.
“Yeah,” Max admitted softly. “We’re not technically blood related. But they’re still my brothers and sisters!” she defended her words hotly.
“That’s fine by me,” Dean smiled. “You can’t choose who your blood kin is and sometimes it would be easier if you could.”
“If I could I’d choose them,” Max asserted quickly.
“And what are their names?” Dean asked, grunting again as he moved on to the radiator. There was silence and he glanced up at the girl. He could see that she was definitely worried over saying to much. “Max,” he said, straightening up. He stared her straight in the eye. “You don’t have to worry. I’m not gonna tell anyone about anything. If you don’t want to tell me, that’s fine. I just thought you might want to talk about them.”
Max stared at him assessingly. She knew he was telling her the truth. She could almost read it in his face. She leaned forward, looking down at the engine. The decision was an easy one. It was almost torn from her, the need to talk about her siblings. “There’s Zack,” she began. “He’s my big brother. And Ben. He always made up stories to tell me.” As she began to talk about her siblings, the rightness of it flooded through her. She needed to talk about them, to remember them. It was the only way to keep them alive right now.
Max had finally run out of things that she felt she could safely tell Dean. He’d just grunted in reply, or had laughed at some of the kid’s antics. And he’d returned a few of the stories. Telling her something Sam had once done. It was actually a nice time in which she could slightly relax her vigilance in guarding her tongue. She knew that Dean and his family still didn’t know the absolute truth about her and if she had her way, they’d never find out. Secrecy had been drilled into her since birth. And after seeing how people reacted to strange things they didn’t understand, she was eager to keep her secrets.
“Dean!” she spoke suddenly, as he continued to check over the engine. His head darted up to see what she wanted. She pointed at the radiator. “Look.”
“What?” he asked peering closely at where she was pointing. He couldn’t see what had her concerned.
“There’s a hole there and there,” she muttered, pointing out to pinprick holes. Luckily he didn’t notice how she’d quickly dilated her pupils to see more closely.
“I’ll be damned,” Dean breathed, his nose almost touching the indicated hosepipe. He pulled back and gave her a wry grin. “You and those good eyes of yours,” he shook his head. He sighed and turned to head to the trunk to remove some more tools that he’d need to remove the hose. It would definitely have to be replaced. He knew enough that those leak stopping sprays would probably be only a temporary fix.
Max felt a warm feeling in her chest as Dean had praised her. She followed after him. “Is that why the alternator belt was squealing?” she asked, her mind working rapidly. Dean unlocked the trunk and withdrew the tool kit and slammed the trunk shut before she made it all the way back.
“Probably,” he admitted. “Fluid shooting back on it would make it slip.”
“And what about the battery?” Max continued. Dean’s affirmative responses and easy attitude made her feel a little more confident about putting herself and her ideas forward. “Didn’t your dad say that it wasn’t holding a charge?”
“Yeah,” Dean confirmed as he opened up the tool kit. He pulled out an open ended wrench and attacked the hose end connected to the radiator. “We’ll take that with us and see if we can charge it up at a garage. Worse case we’ll have to get a different one.” He slipped the wrench onto the end but found he’d chosen the wrong size. “Shoot. Hand me the seven sixteenths wr-!” Even as he turned his head to ask her, Max was already slipping the correct wrench into his hand. “Thanks kid.”
“No problem, geezer,” Max grinned. Dean smirked at her little joke. It always pissed Sammy off to be referred to as a kid. But at least Max didn’t take it lying down and whining to Dad about it.
Between the two of them, they managed to make short work out of removing the hose. Dean turned his attention to pulling the battery out of its block and once he’d accomplished that, Max quickly cleaned off and put away his tools. Dean nodded with approval, even as he thought about trudging back to town with the heavy battery. But to his and Max’s incredible luck, a truck was approaching and looking to be slowing down. He noticed that Max seemed to instinctively creep closer to his side the closer the vehicle got. Finally it pulled to a stop just behind the Impala. A woman dressed in jeans and a flannel shirt, with short cropped brunette hair jumped out.
“Hey, you kids okay?” she asked in loud ringing tones.
“Yes ma’am,” Dean replied swiftly. “Just had some car trouble.”
“Yeah,” the woman continued, eying them and the car with a slight air of suspicion. “I noticed this old baby when I headed out this morning. Figured if it was still here when I came back, I’d call the sheriff’s office.” She watched their reaction and seemed satisfied with whatever she’d been expecting. She stuck her hand out towards Dean. “I’m Dr. Anderson, the vet around these parts.” She definitely noticed the little kid relaxing when she clarified her status.
“Nice to meet ya,” Dean returned, shaking her hand politely, and then grimacing as he realized he’d left a little grease on her hands. Dr. Anderson noticed as well and just smiled ruefully as she rubbed the hand against the thighs of her jeans.
“I’ve had a heck of a lot worse on these hands, just this morning alone,” she told him wryly.
“Well,” Dean smiled broadly. “I’m Dean. This is my little sister Max.” the vet nodded at Max and Max just shyly ducked her head. “My dad sent me out to see what I could do with the car while he made some parts calls.”
“You stayin’ at the motel?” Dr. Anderson questioned. Dean nodded. She gestured to her truck. “Why don’t I give you a ride back into town? And I can let the sheriff’s office know that the owners are taking care of this rig so they don’t end up towing it.”
“Sounds great,” Dean acquiesced. “I’ll just call my dad and let him know we’re on our way back.”
The trio parted, Dr. Anderson to her truck and Dean and Max to the trunk of the Impala. Max had picked up the tool case and was holding it for Dean while he called the motel room number that his dad had written down for him.
“Hey Dad,” he greeted once his father had picked up. He listened for a moment then quickly explained the situation about the car. He listened again, and then glanced back at the vet. “Actually, we have a ride. A Dr. Anderson, the vet. She was going to report the car, but ended up offering us a ride instead.” He paused and took the tool kit from Max while he waited. “She’s driving a red Ford half ton, license plate…” He twisted around and glanced quickly at the plate, which he then related to his father. They’d learned early in life that no information was unimportant. And if this woman wasn’t on the up and up, then John could get on her trail quicker than a fly to a pile of garbage. Dean listened a minute more than said good bye and hung up his cell phone. He slammed the trunk shut and checked to make sure he had the keys and that the doors were locked.
“Let’s go,” he said to Max cheerfully. She followed after him to the rear of the truck, carrying the hosepipe he’d removed.
The ride back to town was filled with small chat and little bits of information about the town and surrounding area. As promised, the doctor let them out at their motel and drove off in the direction of the sheriff’s office to let them know about the vehicle not being abandoned. John met Max and Dean at the door and took the battery from his eldest son. Max stepped into the room and sniffed appreciatively. There on the table were steaming Styrofoam boxes that held the rich scent of pancakes.
“I thought you’d want to break out your chokecherry syrup this morning,” John smiled as Max eyed their breakfast hungrily. “Wash up and I’ll get things ready.” Dean and Max nodded and headed to the bathroom. Sammy greeted them, looking up from his book as they passed by.
Breakfast was eaten swiftly. Dean relayed more in depth information about the car’s status and Sam and John told him that they had found a reasonably priced garage not too far from the motel. They resolved to head over there as soon as they’d eaten, since the mechanic was expecting them.
The boys took turns carrying the battery, even though it wasn’t really as heavy as they were making it out to be.
In mere minutes, they had arrived at 2-D’s Garage. John informed them quietly that apparently the D’s stood for the brothers that owned the shop, Duane and Darryl. As they entered the large open bay door, they could hear the tinkering of tools and muttered swear words. Sam, who’d taken the last turn of carrying the battery, moved over to the counter and dropped the battery with a thump.
“Yello there,” a short bowlegged man piped up as his head came up from under the hood of an old military jeep. He looked to John first, though his eyes took in the whole group standing in the bay, gazing at him expectantly. “You John?”
“Yeah,” John half smiled. “You’re Darryl?”
The little man shook his head and wiped his hands on a rag that was hanging from the pocket of his bib dungaree overalls. “Nope. He’s on break. I’m Jerry. Told me to expect you some time this morning.”
“Nice to meet you Jerry,” John offered his hand. Jerry took it with a big grin. John turned to the kids. “My kids, Dean, Sam and Max.” He indicated them each in turn and Jerry gave them all a gap toothed grin.
“So what can I help you with?” Jerry asked, moving to the bench where Sam had dropped the battery. Dean moved forward to explain.
“Our radiator hose sprung a leak,” he offered, without elaborating. Anyone working in a garage should know exactly what he was talking about. “And we need to check the battery. It’s not holding a charge.”
“All right youngin’,” Jerry nodded, rubbing his chin. “We’ve got the hose, and I’ll get the checker.” He moved off to retrieve the computerized battery checker that the garage had invested in long ago, but stopped as he noticed Max leaning over the engine of the jeep he’d been working on. “Careful there kid.”
Max glanced up at him. “Your timing’s off,” she announced. Jerry smiled indulgently and shook his head.
“No it’s not,” he denied.
“Actually it is,” Max insisted. John stepped forward.
“Max, don’t be telling the man his job,” he spoke teasingly, though a little chastise entered his voice. People didn’t like being corrected, especially by kids.
“But it is,” she insisted again. “He’ll end up wasting a bunch of time by trying to fix things that aren’t wrong.”
“Well time is money,” Jerry chuckled. “Besides, I checked the manual on that. Those sparkplugs are exactly where they’re supposed to be.”
“The manual’s a misprint,” Max told him with a hint of a frown on her face. Jerry seemed set up to argue again. “Just call the 800 number in the front and they’ll tell you.”
Jerry glanced at Max, to the manual that he’d had laying open on the floor beside the Jeep. The kid seemed so sure of himself. And his daddy wasn’t saying anything to gainsay him. Maybe the kid was on the up and up. The older boy sure seemed to know his business. “Well maybe it is,” he finally admitted. He glanced over at the manual. He kicked it shut with his foot. “I shoulda known better than to trust that damn thing.” Everyone laughed at his sheepish expression.
“Last resort?” John asked in understanding. The last place a mechanic ever looked was in a manual. Jerry nodded.
“Can your youngin’ tell me what the timing should be?” he asked of John. But the man shrugged and turned a pointed glance at Max. She smiled and nodded, moving over to give the proper sequence to Jerry.
After that was accomplished, Jerry told them with a sigh, “I hope to get it runnin’ right away. The owner’s a real god customer and he needs it right away.”
“Well that should take care of it,” Max asserted with a decisive nod. As a group they moved back to the counter and Jerry quickly retrieved the battery checker.
“You know, it’s a good thing you brought your son in here today,” Jerry whistled appreciatively.
“I’m not his son,” Max piped up before John could stop her. Jerry turned back from where he was heading, throwing her a puzzled glance. Then his eyes sharpened on her and he shook his head.
“I’m sorry little miss,” he grinned. Max returned the smile with one of her own. Jerry retrieved the checker and brought it back to the counter. As he attached the checker to the battery he glanced up at John. “I’ve always cottoned on to daddy’s teaching their little girls how to handle cars. You know, how to change a tire, pump gas, and check the engine over. Even if they don’t know everything, just a basic idea of what the heck is wrong can save them a lot of trouble.”
“It sure can,” John agreed.
“It just shivers my soul when I think of all the little gals that end up with car trouble who end up in far worse trouble,” Jerry sighed. “Most specially the ones that are on the road by themselves.” He seemed to check himself and with a glance at Max, refrained from saying anything more.
“You’re exactly right,” John agreed heavily, also with a glance at the girl.
Soon enough, Jerry had checked the battery and let them know that it wasn’t carrying a charge like it should be. He’d replaced the hose pipe, giving them more than enough, since hose piping was cheap. He and John wheeled and dealed on the battery. Jerry, in a moment of goodwill, told John that in thanks for Max clearing up his trouble with the Jeep, he was willing to let the battery go at cost. John wondered what his bosses would say about that and Jerry explained that Max had saved him a lot of overtime on the Jeep. The customer was a good one, who paid more for speed. So it would all even out. John knew better than to look this gift horse to much in the mouth and took the deal. It was with an air of satisfaction that the Winchester group left the garage.
Chapter Seven
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