Author: Restive Nature
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.
Rating: PG-13- NC-17
Genre: Crossover
Type: Romance
Pairing: Max/ Guevara/ Sam Winchester
Summary: What if... Max had been having a different dream?
Spoilers/ Timeline: This starts when Max is thirteen and going into heat for the very first time.
Feedback: Always welcome!
Distribution: Ask first please.
A/N: This story, while being in the same universe as When It Changes, does not actually occur within that storyline. This fiction is just an off-shoot of what might have happened.
Chapter Fifteen
Highway To The Danger Zone
She ran excitedly up the steps to the front door. A guy that she'd never seen before smiled at her as he exited the security door and, inspired, Max hurried to catch it. She'd really surprise Sam. She slipped in, acting as if she belonged, realizing belatedly that now she did. She took the steps quickly and lightly, even though she'd never been here before, trying not to make too much noise. She certainly didn't want to get off on the wrong foot with the neighbors. She paused outside Sm's door and thoughtfully set her helmet on the ground beside the door and stowed her keys in her pocket. She smoothed her hair back, wishing suddenly that she had a mirror. Taking a deep breath, she reached up and rapped smartly on the door. Moistening lips that were dry with anticipation, she waited. It took a few minutes for her summons to be answered and the smile faded from her face when it was.
Standing in the doorway was a slim blond, about her height, holding together a lacy robe with one hand and the door with the other. Max's eyes darted to the number on the door. It was the correct apartment.
"Can I help you?" the blond huffed finally.
"Y-yeah, uh, is Sam here?" Max forced herself to ask. She tried desperately not to jump to any conclusions. There had to be a reasonable explanation. The blonde's eyes flickered and her face remained stony with annoyance.
"He's a little busy right now."
"Oh," Max whispered. "Well, I know he wasn't expecting me-!"
"Obviously," the blond snorted.
"But if you could tell him I'm here," Max continued, trying to keep a rein on both her suspicion and her temper. "I'm M-!"
"I know exactly who you are," the blond hissed. "And you've got a lot of nerve showing up here!"
"Excuse me?" Max gasped.
"You know," the blond continued, pressing her advantage, "Sam has been nice and polite to you in the past, but he is so tired of having to deal with you."
"I-!" Max felt helpless as she heard the words pounding at her.
No," the blond continued. "We both know that Sam would rather rip off his own arm, than hurt a woman. A fact that you've repeatedly taken advantage of. But I really don't give a damn about you! So I'm the one telling you now. Whatever little fantasy world you've deluded yourself into believing? Snap out of it! Sam and I are together and we have been for a while. We're very happy together. So do everyone a favor and leave Sam the hell alone!" The door started to close and Max gaped, but then the blonde's face reappeared again. "One more thing. If you ever sneak into this building again, we'll have you arrested for harassment!" And then the door slammed shut.
Numbly, Max stooped down to pick up her discarded helmet. She made her way slowly down the steps, hugging the wall, all the implications of those
words the blond had hurled at her, still attacking her mind. She kept trying to tell herself that something had to have been wrong. There had to be some sort of explanation. But no, the blond had been in Sam's apartment. She knew Sam. She knew who Max was. It made her suddenly nauseous to think of Sam telling this woman things about Max. She'd recognized Max on sight. Had Sam showed her the pictures that she'd sent him? Had they laughed together over them? It had seemed so daring and sensual at the time and his reaction to them had been... But now Max could see maybe how childish and desperate they might seem.
She forced herself to get on her motorcycle, her movements stiff and mechanical. She'd said that Max had built herself a fantasy, was deluded. Was that true? No, it hadn't been, had it? Maybe that blond had been delusional. But if she was, why had she been in Sam's apartment. The entire family had trained themselves to be alert sleepers. Sam would have known the moment she stepped into the apartment. Max drove aimlessly, desperately reaching and searching for a reasonable, or even an unreasonable explanation. Anything but the one staring her in the face.
They hadn't been expecting her, obviously, because she'd been a day early. She'd thought to surprise Sam. She shuddered as she wondered what she would have found if she'd arrived tomorrow. Would Sam have told her that it was over? Would he have been blunt? Would he have been gentle? Another tremor ran through her as a worse thought occurred to her. What if Sam hadn't intended to tell her?
What if Sam had wanted the blond too? She would have been living blissfully with him while he lied to and cheated on her with this other woman. Tears obscured her vision and Max hastily pulled her bike over. She had no clue where she was, what her surroundings were as she stumbled off the bike. Her sobs were shuddering her so badly that it took her some time to realize that it wasn't emotion alone.
She panicked for a moment and the tears would not abate. She tried to think and for an instance, the image of her pills, safely stowed in her duffel bag, nestled in the back seat of the Impala flashed before her eyes. More tremors and tears crashed through her, one seeming to feed the other's intensity. What had just happened to her seemed to have clouded everything else in her mind and she couldn't think her way clearly through anything. Closing her eyes, collapsed on the ground, Max tried to pull herself together. She needed her pills and they were with Dean. Ergo, she needed Dean.
Max fumbled and groped through her pockets and finally her cell phone fell to the ground. Shaking and leaning forwards, she was lucky to catch the edge of the phone under her fingers.
*****
Dean blinked as he came suddenly awake. The sun was glinting off the hood of the car and he squinted against the light. He had only a second to wonder about what had woken him, when he heard his phone ring. He reached for it where he'd left it on the seat next to him. His eyes caught the time and that it was Max calling at the same time. Grinning, he flipped open the phone, ready to teasingly lay into her for forgetting to call him until now.
"Hey," he greeted. "Finally remembered your big brother, did ya? What'd you do? Drive straight through?"
"D-dean?" Her voice was small and tremulous and something sparked inside him.
"Max? What's wrong?"
"S-seizure," she choked out.
"Son of a bitch," he swore softly. "Where are you?"
"Palo Alto," she answered.
"At Sam's?" he wondered.
"N-no," she was crying now too, making it hard to understand her. "W-went there. I c-can't go back."
"What? Why not?" Dean demanded as he started the car.
"Sh-she said they'd call the c-cops."
"She who?" he snapped as he pulled out onto the highway once more.
"His g-girlfriend."
"What?" Dean shook his head, feeling as if he'd woken up in some freak twilight zone. Nothing made any sense whatsoever. "Max? Have you got your pills?" He waited a moment, but heard nothing. "Max!" Fear gripped his heart like a vice, but then he heard a voice in the background.
"Miss? Miss? Are you okay? Oh my God!"
"Hey!" Dean yelled and a moment later someone else had picked up Max's phone, the voice female and panicked sounding.
"Hello?"
"Hey, I need your help," Dean spoke rapidly. "My sister is having a seizure and she needs her medication. Do you see a motorcycle around there?"
"I should call an ambulance," the voice uttered.
"No!" Dean shouted. "You need to do as I tell you. Is the bike there?
"Yes, it's right here."
"Good," Dean breathed a sigh of relief. "There's a latch on the seat and a compartment underneath. Open it up."
"Okay,' the voice said hesitantly and Dean heard the woman rustling around.
"Now, there should be a black nylon bag in there. It's got her medication. Look for a bottle marked tryptophan. She needs four to start with."
"There was a moment's pause and then, "got them. Oh God, I should really call an ambulance. She looks bad!"
"No!" Dean shouted again and then forced himself to explain calmly. "They'd take too long to get to her. he needs those pills now! The longer you wait, the more likely it is that she'll stroke out."
"How do I-?" the woman asked helplessly.
"Is she conscious?" Dean demanded.
"Hang on," the woman muttered. When she answered again, she sounded relieved. "She's conscious. She's trying to say something."
"Okay," Dean directed. "Help her sit up so she can take the pills."
"Okay, hang on," the woman muttered. It too a few minutes, but then she was back. "Okay, she took them," the woman informed him. "Should I call the ambulance now?"
Dean rolled his eyes, but said carefully, when he really wanted to snap, "no. Look... what's your name?"
"Nancy,"
"Okay, Nancy, I'm Dean and my sister's name is Max. Now, the thing is, Max doesn't have epilepsy, or anything like that. Her seizures are caused by other things. That means that the anti-seizure medication that the doctors at the hospital would give her, they wouldn't' work. The only thing they could do is exactly what we're doing now, okay?"
"Oh... okay," Nancy murmured. "I think she's doing better, The shaking's not so bad now."
Dean felt relief swoop through him. "Okay Nancy," the caught her attention again. "I need to call my brother. He lives in Palo Alto. Where are you at?" She gave him the approximate address and then told him that they were close to the restaurant where she'd been heading to work, when she'd found Max. Dean repeated the unfamiliar address a few times mentally. "Okay," he told her, "I'm going to hang up and call my brother so he can come get her. Can you stay with her?"
"Of course," the reply came instantly and Dean grinned a little as he heard the indignant tone.
"All right," Dean nodded. "I'll call right back." He heard her agreement and then disconnected. With eyes flickering between the road and his phone, he dialed Sam's number. But the phone just rang endlessly. Swearing again, he re-dialed, this time trying Sam's cell phone. But it too just rang endlessly until it clicked over to voicemail. "Sam! It's me. Max is there, but she's had a seizure. She's got someone helping her, but she needs you now man." He sighed and relayed the current location that Max was at. "Call me as soon as you get this message." He tried the house number once more, but no one ever answered. With a pissed off grunt, Dean called Max's cell phone back.
"Dean?"
"Yeah Nancy, it's me. Look, I couldn't get a hold of my brother," he explained. "I'm still several hours out. Is she doing any better?"
"I think so," Nancy replied hesitantly. "I gave her two more pills. Is that all right?"
"Yeah, that's good," Dean confirmed instantly. "She needs to take as many as she has to, to get the seizures under control."
"And they won't hurt her?" Nancy asked.
"No," he assured her. "That stuff is the same as what's in warm milk. It'll just make her sleepy at the most."
"Okay," Nancy sighed in relief. "So what should I do?"
"Well," Dean groaned a little, trying to think while he navigated the road. "My brother hasn't called me back yet. But I don't really like leaving her there to wait."
"She could wait at the restaurant. We're not too far from it. Just a moment," she told him and Dean could hear a muffled conversation and then she was back. "Max thinks she can walk over there now. She still looks a little shaky."
"She will for a while," Dean sighed with relief. But if Max was talking and ambulatory, then the worst of it was past.
"Okay then," Nancy spoke again. "We should be at the restaurant in about five minutes. Oh! Just let me-!" Dean's heartbeat picked up as apprehension spiked through him. "Sorry," she apologized before he could totally freak out again. "I was just getting her keys from the motorcycle. Wouldn't want it to get stolen." Dean chuckled.
"Nancy, you are one in a million. Thank you so much. For everything!"
"Oh don't be silly," she scoffed. "It wasn't like I was gonna just leave your poor sister laying there."
"No," Dean agreed. "All right, I'm calling my brother back and then I'll call Max back within ten minutes, all right?"
"Roger that," Nancy chuckled. Now that the crisis seemed to have passed, the woman seemed a lot calmer. Dean smiled as he hung up and dialed Sm again, with the same results as last time. He didn't bother with a message this time. Sam would know to call him because of the last message. And honestly, he was pissed off enough to let Sammy panic a little like Dean had. Cruel, but Dean was not at all happy about his brother's unavailability at the moment.
He glanced at his watch and then at an upcoming road sign. He still had three plus hours before he reached Palo Alto. He waited the required few more minutes before he called Max back. He felt relieved when she was the one who answered. "Dean?"
"Hey Maxie," he spoke softly. More often than not, her seizures left her with a slight headache. "How're you doing?"
"Not good," she mumbled.
"No, I don't imagine so," he sympathized. "Are you at the restaurant?"
"Yeah," she confirmed. "Nancy's getting me some warm milk."
"Good," Dean nodded. The woman was more help than he initially thought she would be. "I called Sam, left him a message to let him know what's happening," Dean told her.
"Don't bother," she interrupted him and once more he heard the tears. "He won't care."
"Max?" concern was growing in him. She needed to stay calm. "Maxie, sweetie? What happened? You said something earlier..."
"I went to Sam's apartment," she explained slowly, drawing in a huge gulp of air. "And his new girlfriend was there."
"What?" This was what hadn't made sense before.
"In her nightgown," she stressed. "And before you ask, yes I had the right apartment. She knew who I was and she made it very clear what was going on."
Dean's jaw clenched at that. "And Sam?" he growled. "What did he say?"
"I didn't even talk to him," Max muttered, sniffling.
"Well Max," Dean tried, desperately wanting to believe that his brother wasn't an all time lowdown asswipe.
"No Dean," she protested. "I tried. I thought of everything it could be. That he wasn't... But he is.
But why?" Dean demanded, even as he knew that neither of them had the answer. "If he was with someone else, why didn't he just tell you?"
"Who knows," she half sobbed, half hiccuped. "Maybe he didn't want his friends to find out? Maybe she was just a fling that developed into something more? Maybe... maybe he wanted to have his cake and eat it too. I just don't know Dean. But I can't..." she broke off with another ragged cry and Dean felt truly sick.
"Max," he protested weakly, "Sammy couldn't..."
"How do we know Dean?" Max sniffled. "All we know now is what he tells us. He can tell us anything he wants and how would we know any different? He's got this whole other life here that has nothing to do with us. And it's been so long since we've seen him. I think... I think we kept seeing him for who he was when he was with us. Maybe we just never saw... who he was becoming."
There we two things horribly wrong with what Dean was hearing right then. The first was the raw pain in Max's voice. The second was that what she said was true. Dean knew better than most that all things were possible, so this too, as she said, could have happened. "Max," he spoke quietly, "wait for me, okay? We'll figure this out together, when I get there."
"I'm so tired Dean," she complained pitiably. "I really just want to..." He knew instantly what she meant. Driving all night, the emotional stress and resulting seizure had completely worn her down and out. Right now, all she wanted to do was hide away somewhere private and lick her wounds.
"Okay," he conceded. "If you're up to it, see if you can find a motel. Get some rest. I'll meet you there, or wherever. Just let me know."
"Thank you Dean," she whispered and then hung up.
Dean settled his phone on the seat beside him. He knew how Max was feeling because he was feeling it too. The sense of betrayal was gnawing at him. He'd always thought that he and Sam were closer even than twins in some ways, due to their upbringing. When Sam had grown up and developed his own interests, Dean had always felt like he still had a handle on what made Sammy tick. His falling in love with Max had thrown Dean for a loop, but in many moments of reflection, it too had come to make sense. Even Sam's decision to leave them. Dean had known every nuance of the reasons and feelings going into it. He hadn't liked it, but he had understood. But Max was right.
Lately, if he thought about it, Sam had been a slightly different person. Each incident, taken by itself, was easily explainable, but together on the whole, it painted a very different picture. Dean really couldn't cont Sam keeping secrets among that, since his little brother had always been a solitary and very private person. But partying? That was atypical. Being drunk, especially when he was still underage? That had boggled Dean's mind and he had chalked it up to a singular, holiday related event. Maybe it wasn't. He had kept telling them that his friends were dragging him out and insisting on his company. Maybe their company wasn't so much about partying as it was about keeping an eye on Sam while he cut loose. It was always the quiet ones, wasn't it?
And then there had been other incidents that Max had spoken about. Their whole family was used to lying. Used to coming up with stories and excuses. The only problem for Sam, was that it wasn't so ingrained in him that a lie was on his lips before the truth ever was. It took him a few minutes to come up with something plausible. And when he was caught off guard, he'd say the first thing that popped into his head. So maybe that was why he had called that woman, supposedly helping him with Max's birthday gift, his professor. Max's call had caught him off guard. If he hadn't been really up to something huge, he could have said that she was another student, a store clerk, someone asking for directions. He could have said any of the hundreds of ordinary people that populated the world that would have been more plausible than the excuse that he had used. Sam had chosen the one thing in the world that Max would know was a lie.
Dean grimaced as a new thought occurred to him. What if Sam had been doing it deliberately? What if he hadn't known how to tell Max about what was going on wit him and he'd been dropping hints, trying to force a confrontation. But then, why had Sam perpetuated the problem by telling Dean the things that he had? When he pulled over an hour after he'd started out, to gas up, Sam still hadn't called him back. Excuses flew through Dean's mind, but honestly, could anything excuse that? Maybe only if Sam were dying. Dean paid for his gas and coffee and headed out again.
Sam, regardless of how he felt about Max now, couldn't be that uncaring about her life. Dean was sure of that. But again, that feeling that he didn't really know his brother at all, made the rage boil within him. But worse than that was the disappointment that tinged everything. Sighing, he picked up his cell phone to try calling Sammy again. No one answered at the apartment and when he tried Sam's cell, it clicked immediately over to voicemail. So wither Sam had shut the phone off or was talking to someone else. When the message indicated to, Dean left another message, his voice tired and defeated.
"So either you're dead or dying. That or you just don't give a crap about what's happened to Max anymore. I really don't know which and I'm tired of trying to figure it out. I'm also tired of trying to clean up your messes. You wanna screw around? Fine! But doin' it this way? That makes you about the slimiest rat bastard to crawl this earth. Don't bother calling me back because I really can't talk to you right now."
Dean snapped the phone shut and threw it back to the seat and rested his head against his left hand as he held the steering wheel with his right. The phone rang suddenly, startling him and he felt a wild surge of hope that was dashed when Max's name came up on the screen. "Hey Max," he greeted softly. He listened as she told him which motel she'd gone to and the address and that she was going to sleep for a while. He was to call or knock, or both when he arrived. He agreed, letting her know that he'd still be a few hours. After hanging up, he turned on some music, trying to drown out the part of his brain that refused to let this problem go.
It was still bothering him so badly, that when he arrived in Palo Alto, he headed straight to Sam's apartment, instead of going to Max. She was his first concern, but at least she wasn't shutting him out. He gained access to the building in much the same way that Max had earlier that morning. And even though he felt like doing worse, he forced himself to knock calmly at the door. It was answered by a slim blond, who must have been the girl that Max had been referring to. She smiled and Dean would have labeled her as cute, but for the part she had played in hurting his sister.
"Can I help you?" the girl asked politely.
"Yeah, I need to talk to Sam."
The smile didn't fade as she informed him, "sorry, Sam doesn't live here anymore."
Right.
The girl made to close the door, but Dean's hand shot out and caught it. "Don't," he warned. "I know damn well that Sam lives here. So you may as well tell him to get his sorry ass out here!" He pushed the door open wider and stepped in. "Sam!" he called loudly.
"Get out or I;ll call the police!" the girl shrieked.
"You sure like that threat," Dean snorted as he advanced across the living room.
"I mean it," she warned, picking up a cordless phone from the coffee table.
"Do what you gotta do lady," he sneered. "I'm not going anywhere until I talk to my brother. Sammy!" That certainly got the blonde's attention. The phone fell to her side as her puzzled face beheld him.
"You're Dean?" she questioned. Christ! Max was right. The girl obviously knew Sam.
"In the flesh," he snapped. "And getting more pissed off by the second!"
"Wait," the girl whispered. "Is everything okay?"
Dean whirled and frowned at her, his face so dark that she took an involuntary step backwards.
"You ask me that after what you did to my sister this morning?" Dean growled and immediately the blond looked confused again.
"Wait! Monique is your sister?" she demanded.
"No," Dean corrected icily. "Max." He shook his head. "Who the hell is Monique? And who the hell are you? I'm gettin' confused here." He shook his head, as if trying to clear his mind.
"So am I,' the blond whimpered as she sank down to perch on the edge of the sofa. "Max is Sam's sister?" she shrieked softly. "He said she was his girlfriend!"
It was beginning to dawn on Dean, what might have happened. "She is," he confirmed quickly. "They've just been together for so long that I consider her to be my little sister. We're all pretty close. It's like she's already family."
Relief washed over the girl's face, and then clouded up again. "Oh God," she wailed. "Sam's going to kill me. I really, really, screwed up."
"Yeah, apparently so," Dean concurred with a wry grin. Man, if it was anything like he was thinking, then... yeah. She looked up at him and then stood swiftly.
"Do you know where Max is? I've got to fix this," she asked, biting at her lip. Dean nodded.
"Yeah, that'd be a good idea. Let's go." He waited for her to gather her purse and keys and headed out the door. "You know, I never got your name."
"Oh, I'm Jess. Jessica Moore."
"Ah, one of the lynch mob?"
She laughed shakily as she pulled the apartment door shut behind them. "you heard about that, huh?"
Dean grinned. "Yup. And I'm starting to think that's what was going on today."
"Can I tell you about it while we go?"
"You got a deal, sweetheart," he agreed as he led her out to his car.
They arrived at the motel, easier to find with Jess' helpful directions. Dean could see the Ninja parked there. He led Jess to Max's room and knocked loudly on the door. "Maxie? It's me! Open up!" It took a few minutes as they heard movement inside and then the door swung inward and then his arms were full of his sister. "Hey," he whispered softly. "It's okay."
"I thought you'd never get here," she mumbled.
"Yeah, I finally made it," he smiled and let loose as she pulled back. It was then that Max realized that there was someone else there. She started and her face darkened and flushed.
"Max, it wasn't what you thought. I promise. Would you please calm down and hear her out. Would you do that for me? Please?"
RTD16- Getting To Know You
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