Title: What If... Racing Towards Destiny
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 Gueverra/ Sam Winchester
Summary: What if... Max had been having a different dream?
Spoilers/ Time line: 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.
A/N2: I have taken some liberty with Max's back story. I know that the show let us see very specific events during flashback scenes and in a certain order. I have expanded on that, to help string it all together in a way that makes sense to my mind and this story. Hope you enjoy.
Chapter Twenty-one
Revelations
"I don't like this Max," Sam complained as he absentmindedly pushed his supper around his plate with his fork.
"Neither do I," his girlfriend returned calmly, "but its only for a few weeks, until Hanover can find a replacement for Drew.”
"Why'd he quit, anyway?" Sam frowned.
"I don't know," Max sighed, setting down her own utensil. "All I heard from Rita was that there was a bunch of shouting and then Drew walked out."
"You don't have to start tonight, do you?" Sam pursed his lips. Max shook her head in the negative.
"Tomorrow night. Mr. Hanover's taking tonight's shift because it was such short notice."
"Well then, why doesn't he keep working it, instead of sticking you with the shift?" Sam grunted as he finally threw down his fork, making it clang against the dinner plate.
"Because he's my boss," Max told him wryly. "Besides, I'm the only one who has her nights free." Sam's eyebrows rose at that. "Rita's got stuff going on, so does Kara and Hanover's got family obligations."
"And what does that make me?" Sam groused, slumping back in his seat, his arms crossed like a petulant child.
"A very understanding boyfriend," Max shot back hopefully. Sam threw her an annoyed look.
"I'm sorry Max, but it feels like lately, we've barely seen each other. And now with this, it'll be even worse. You'll be gone to work before I get home. I'll be asleep by the time you get home and we'll have what? Half an hour together in the mornings?"
"And weekends," Max pointed out rationally, although she could feel her temper starting to fray. Why on earth was he being so cranky and unreasonable about this? "Sam, Mr. Hanover promised that it would only be for a couple of weeks. I think we can survive that."
"And what if he doesn't find anybody in that time? What then?"
Max rolled her eyes and started toying with her fork, perhaps to keep from pounding her fist on the table in frustration. "Sam, this is a college town and summer has just started. There'll be plenty of people looking for work. He only said two weeks to give himself some breathing room. He could find someone in a matter of days."
"But in the meantime, you're stuck."
"Sam, it's my job!" Max protested plaintively. "I never expected it to be perfect."
"You never expected to be there for more than a few months," Sam offered, slightly snide. "And yet, here you are a year and a half later, still at it."
"And what's wrong with that?" Max cried out.
"Nothing," Sam huffed, rubbing one hand across his forehead. "I'm just saying that I thought you wanted to do something with your life..." he trailed off and Max stared at him, incredulous. Her mouth opened, as if she were going to say something but then snapped it shut. Instead, she pushed her chair back and jumped up from her seat. She stormed off angrily through the kitchen and into the bedroom. Sam jumped up from his seat, realizing in an instant how condescending he was being. He followed after her and met her at the bedroom door. She was carrying her robe and a book. "Max," he sighed, "I wasn't trying to pick a fight with you."
"Really?" she sneered. "Because you were doing a damn good imitation of just that, a moment ago." She stepped past him and down into the bathroom. He would have followed, but the lock clicking into place on the doorknob was a very clear signal that he wasn't welcome. Feeling hurt and rejected and yet, a bit of an ass at the same time, Sam stomped into the bedroom and hurled the door shut.
He laid down on the bed, resolutely determined not to think about her. And as always, that failed. Sam lay there for what seemed like hours, staring at the wall and then the dresser, then the floor and the wall once again. In all their time together, and apart, as a couple, they'd never really had a fight. Disagreements, yes, but they'd never walked away from one another, carrying anger with them as they did. By now, Sam could see where he was in the wrong and he resolved that he would apologize as soon as she emerged.
So instead of continuing to mope because his world wasn't ordered exactly to his liking, he got up to take care of the remains of their meal. He put the leftovers away and then searched the freezer. He smiled when he found the tub of chocolate ice cream. When he heard the water draining, he grabbed that and two spoons and met her in the hallway.
"I'm sorry," he offered quickly, holding the ice cream before him, like a peace offering. "I really didn't mean to belittle what you do Max," he spoke softly and her face relaxed marginally.
"But you were right," she sighed. "I did only mean to be there for a little while. Sometimes I wonder why I still am." Sam held out his hand and she took it. He led her to the living room, where they seated themselves on the sofa. Sam handed Max a spoon and pulled the lid off of the ice cream. He offered it to her and she took a small amount on the tip of her spoon. "I'm sorry," she sighed, continuing the conversation. "I just never saw myself being a clerk for the rest of my life."
"So what do you want to do?" Sam asked quietly as he scooped up some of the dessert as well.
"Max shrugged. "Honestly, I have no clue. Maybe that's why I get into so many hobbies."
Sam chuckled. "Maybe."
"You really don't mind that though, do you?" Max asked earnestly. Sam shrugged, tilting his head a little.
"No, not really," he decided. "I mean, it's not like you get interested in something for a little while and then lose interest. And it's not like they're hobbies that get really messy or take up a whole lot of room with clutter."
"What about the time it takes up?" Max asked slyly and Sam frowned.
"Yeah, it's selfish of me," he admitted sheepishly. "I mean, you never complain when I've got school stuff to do, or I'm busy with studying."
"So maybe we should find a hobby we could do together," Max suggested.
"Like what?" Sam asked, curiously. Max smiled thoughtfully.
"Well, we had fun with that art course. We could maybe find another course to take together that wouldn't tax your current schedule. Or, we could join a gym or sports league," she offered enthusiastically.
"Like what?" Sam laughed, repeating himself as they both spooned up more of the frozen comestible. "Bowling?"
"Mini golf!" Max giggled. She ate the bite off of her spoon and then pointed it at him. "We could always find a way to volunteer together. I mean, that way, we'd be giving back to the community, it would look good on your resume or law school application and we'd have time with one another."
Sam blinked at the mini speech, smirking as he mulled it over. He leaned towards her, a large smile gracing his face. "Have I told you lately how brilliant you are?"
Max shook her head sadly," ah, with only the barest of moments to spend together, the discussion of my genius has been woefully ignored."
"Ha ha," Sam smiled good-naturedly, pushing at her knee. "You know," he murmured," it's not so much the time together we're having..." he trailed off and Max caught the apprehension on his face.
"So what is it sweetie?" she asked softly, encouragingly. Sam exhaled slowly, wondering how exactly to phrase his concerns without upsetting her. Truth was best and it was all he could do.
"Max," he began," I know that you can take care of yourself. I mean, I can't count the number of times you've proved that. But... I still..."
Max waited for the words that she knew he was struggling to form. "You still what?"
"I just don't like you working that late, having to make the bank deposit," Sam finally admitted outright and was very much surprised to see that Max was smiling. "What?"
"Well," she chuckled, "it's just... no one could really accuse you of... cave man sensibilities," she muttered through her grin. Sam gave her an amused, slightly annoyed look.
"Cave man?"
"Well you know," she shrugged. "You man! Take care of weak woman!"
"I never said that!" he protested.
"But do you deny you feel it?" Max asked quickly and knew she'd caught him out. "Ah ha!"
Sam flushed belatedly and grunted. "It's not that... exactly," he allowed, shrugging one shoulder. "I just worry that something might happen, and I wouldn't be there to help you," he explained awkwardly.
"Okay," Max allowed as she reached for more ice cream. "That's valid. Most especially since I worry about you too."
"Really?" Sam smirked, relieved that she hadn't exploded in anger. "I didn't think I was living that dangerously."
Max smiled. "Okay," she explained, "not about what you do, but what might happen to you."
"What might happen?" Sam repeated, the corners of his mouth twitching.
"Yeah," Max nodded, not oblivious to his amusement, but ignoring it. "See, you I trust. But the other 99.99999 etcetera percent of the population that inhabits this world? Not so much."
"And what did they do to earn your ire?"
"Well," Max chuckled, getting into the spirit of things, "there are idiots out there who cause car accidents through general stupidity, morons who take it in their head to go on shooting rampages. And then there are all those Monique's and Ronnie's who could kidnap you just to have their wicked way with you." Sam laughed heartily.
"But you would come rescue me, wouldn't you?"
"Actually," Max eyes began to sparkle, "I'd probably have to insist on some preventative measures to keep it from ever happening."
"Like what?" he demanded huskily, eagerly, recognizing the growing lust in her eyes.
"I just might have to tie you up in our bed and have my way with you over and over again until you're of absolutely no use to any other woman.”
Sam's eyes darkened as he inhaled deeply. He'd never thought that he was the type to get into anything... kinky and by most standards this was tame stuff. But the thought of Max being completely in charge, of her dominating him, was darkly erotic. But was she serious?
“You know,” he drawled, “I'd say that's a pretty good plan. Only thing is...”
“Is what?”
“Well you know what they say? Practice makes perfect.”
“Why, I do believe you're right,” Max grinned as she stood and reached for his hand.
*****
Sam heard the motorcycle engine, roaring into the quiet of the neighborhood and breathed a sigh of relief. Ever since the clock had turned over, hitting midnight and beyond, he'd been fretting. There was no other word for it. He kept telling himself that nothing would happen to her. It would take a little time for Max to get the tills counted out and in order. To prepare the deposit, to lock up the store, take the money to the nightly bank deposit and then drive home. He tried to imagine doing just these things. But perhaps he was thinking it out too quickly, when she wasn't home when he had hoped she would be. He tried distracting himself in other ways, but he knew he'd be a hopeless case until she actually arrived at their house.
When he heard the engine cut out, he climbed out of their bed and headed out to the foyer to meet her. He squinted once against the sharp glare of the hall light that he'd left on for her. She came in, shutting the front porch light off and then took off her coat.
“Hey,” Sam greeted softly as he moved towards her.
“Hey Sam,” she returned softly. She moved to embrace him before she shut the closet door. “What are you doing up?”
“Couldn't sleep without you,” Sam murmured pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “Everything go okay?”
“About what I expected,” she shrugged. “You really should get some sleep.”
“I will,” he promised. “You coming to bed?”
“Yeah,” Max nodded. “I'll be there in a just a minute.”
Sam left her at the bathroom and headed back to the suddenly cozy and inviting bed he'd left just minutes ago. She was there as quickly as she promised, changing into a long t-shirt to sleep in. Sam held the covers back for her as she climbed into her side of the bed. She gave him a lingering kiss goodnight before rolling over onto her side, facing away from him. Sam wasted no time in snuggling up as closely as he could to her as she reached for the book she was currently reading. She had left it last on the nightstand, in preparation for this evening. Sam wrapped his arm around her middle and she rested her own on top of his. His thumb stroked across her ribs as he tilted his head to the side to nuzzle at her neck, inhaling deeply, the lingering scent of soap on her skin. She gave a low murmur, but that was all. Sam grinned wolfishly, aware that he was really going to have to get her attention. With a playful growl, he snatched the book away from her hand and threw it behind him.
“Sam!” she protested, though he could hear the laughter in her voice. “What are you doing?”
“Trying to get your attention,” he told her as he shifted his hips against the curve of her buttocks.
“Okay, I get the point,” she muttered and rolled over to face him. “And this is why you can't sleep?”
Sam nodded and bent his head to nip at her earlobe.
“You're going to be cranky in the morning,” she warned.
“Like anyone is going to notice,” Sam grunted in reply. “Remember, I'm just the low man on the totem pole at work.”
“Yes, but if they do happen to notice you,” Max sighed as his lips trailed down to her collar bone, “it'd be nice if you had a smile on your face, rather than that fearsome scowl.”
“Well, I promise that I'll just think of you all day long,” he teased, pushing one hand under the hem of her long shirt as he traced a path over her thigh. “That always puts a smile on my face.”
He didn't progress any further, waiting, like a gentleman to see how his advances were really being received, gaging if she were interested or if she really did want to get some sleep.
“You always say the sweetest things,” Max murmured. “How could I resist you?” She caught his face between her hands and pressed her lips to his. Sam pulled the hem of her shirt up another scant inch and was rewarded with a shift of her body closer to his and a small foot tickling a caress up his shin. He sighed contentedly. How could he be grumpy tomorrow when he was blessed with something so wonderful in the here and now?
*****
Max pulled the front door of the convenience store shut and locked the deadbolt on it. The last customer, a teen aged boy had just left with his middle of the night munchies. Max, who’d had few enough customers that evening, that she’d been able to keep a running count, figured the cash-out would go pretty quick. The one thing Hanover liked about her was that her tills were always correct. Rita always made snide remarks and little comments about how Max must make up the difference out of her own pocket and skimmed the extra when she was over. Max just let that slide. Company policy allowed fifty cents either way and Max knew that Rita’s till was wildly off the mark on many occasions.
But she hummed to herself as she counted out the money. Hanover had left a note for her, letting her know that he’d hired a young man that day. Max would train him the next evening and if he managed well, the shift would be his alone. And Hanover was sure the guy would work out okay. He’d done the night shift at a gas station the previous summer and had good references. Max grinned, happy that she didn’t have to worry about pumping gas as well. That math, separate from store business, might have provided a mental challenge.
As she’d figured, her totals were on and she prepared the back deposit and slipped the till floats into the safe in the office before shutting it and locking it. Because of the ease of the evening, she’d been able to keep on top of the cleaning, so she was able to get out of there earlier than she normally would have. She checked to make sure that she had everything she needed and headed out the back door to the alley way where her Ninja was parked. She set the alarm and moved through the shadows.
Max swore and then laughed suddenly when she saw the rear tire on the Ninja was flat. Right then, working at a gas station would have been handy. With a resigned sigh, she tucked the bank deposit bag into the inner pocket of her jean jacket and pulled out her cell phone. She dialed their home phone and wasn’t surprised when it wasn’t answered. She next dialed Sam’s cell, knowing that he would be keeping it near him until she was home. It took a little time before he answered.
‘Yeah?” he answered, sounding slightly groggy.
“Hey baby,” Max greeted softly. “Did I wake you up?”
“Mm, no,” Sam replied through an obvious yawn. “I was just kind of dozing on the couch, waiting for you.” Max chuckled, he’d been sound asleep for sure. “Is everything okay?”
“It’s all good,” she sighed, “except for one little, tiny thing.”
“What’d that be?”
“My bike has a flat,” she informed him. “I hate to ask, but-!”
“I’ll be right there,” Sam broke in, sounding much more alert now. She could hear him fumbling around.
“Thank you sweetie,” she smiled.
“No problem,” he replied and she could hear the door shutting on his end.
“I have some good news,” she continued to talk to him as she leaned against the back outer wall of the store.
“What’s that?” Sam asked.
“Mr. Hanover hired a kid for the night shift,” Max informed him.
“That’s excellent news,” Sam enthused. “So is this your last night then?”
“Almost,” Max chuckled. “Hanover wants me to train him tomorrow night and then I’ll be back to my regular shift.”
“Well that’s better than we’d thought it might be,” Sam sounded relieved. “And that means we’ll have all weekend together.”
“You know it,” Max chuckled. “So what do we want to do? Go out with some friends? Romantic candlelit dinner?”
“Stay in bed all weekend,” Sam demanded with a laugh.
“Maybe go catch that new movie,” Max continued to tease. “Oh, we could go out to the lake?”
“Stay in bed,” Sam repeated.
“Lake! Bikini!” she giggled.
“Bed! Naked!” he countered.
“Or we could stay in bed all weekend,” Max laughed outright.
“See? I knew you’d see things my way,” Sam chuckled, his mind racing with thoughts of a definitely enjoyable weekend facing them. Unintentionally, his foot pressed a little harder on the gas pedal before he realized it and checked the speedometer. He certainly didn’t need a ticket just because he was eager to see his girl.
“Uh huh,” Max murmured. “I really could hibernate for a few days .”
“My plan exactly,” Sam chortled, recognizing the teasing for what it was.
“Yeah right,” Max started to retort. “I-!” She broke off suddenly and Sam waited patiently for her to continue. But there was nothing but silence coming from her end and Sam wondered if Max’s cell phone had perhaps died.
“Max?”
“Sam, I’ll call you back,” she announced abruptly and then there really was nothing.
Sam, puzzled and more than just a little worried, snapped his own phone shut. This time, pressing his foot harder on the accelerator was most definitely deliberate. As he drove through the streets, he constantly checked his phone, waiting for her to call. Finally he turned down the street where the store was located, scanning the sidewalk for any sign of his girlfriend. Pulling into the parking lot, all he could see were the front store lights. Shutting off the car, Sam hurriedly climbed out, eyes scanning everywhere. And as he did so, the distinct sounds of a scuffle could be heard from the alleyway on the far side of the store and further in the distance the droning wail of police sirens. Sam hurried toward the alleyway, his heart pounding, when a gunshot rang out. His heart stopped beating and seemed to leap up suddenly into his throat.
Ducking low, he ran towards the alley, a desperate prayer on his lips. The caution instilled from a lifetime of training kept him from running headlong into the alley. Crouching at the corner he peered around the corner to take stock of the situation as quickly as he could. His heart leapt with joy as he heard Max’s voice, strong and sure and then the answering reply of a male. Wishing desperately that he had a weapon of his own, Sam slid into the alleyway unnoticed. The scene came together in his eyes but his mind just couldn’t assimilate it. Two bodies lying prone on the ground, another guy aiming a gun at his girlfriend. Before Sam could even gasp, the trigger was pulled, but Max was gone, moving so fast she seemed to blur. The guy seemed surprised, as was Sam, watching as Max’s attacker kept the gun extended. He snapped off another round that she avoided by… running… across… a… wall! Sam just couldn’t grasp what was happening as Max got behind the guy and with a series of lightning quick blows, had disarmed the guy and knocked him out cold.
As if from far away, Sam heard the police sirens and several car doors slamming. The lights of the police cars that had arrived in response to whoever had called in a report, bathed the first ten feet of the alleyway in rotating blue and red ambiance. And it may have been a trick of the light, but Sam didn’t think it was, but Max had fear written all over her face as she stared at him. It was etched into every inch of her. And as Sam heard and obeyed the police officer’s directive to freeze and put his hands up, he realized that the fear hadn’t come until she’d seen him.
Numbly, his mind whirling, he automatically answered the officer’s questions. His name was Sam Winchester, his wallet was in his right jacket pocket with his driver’s license inside. He had no weapons or paraphernalia on him and he was here because his girlfriend had called him, needing a ride home from work. Yes, he’d heard the gunshots, but no, he… hadn’t seen anything. He didn’t know how long passed as one officer covered him while another ran his identification. He turned his head to watch the same thing happening to Max at the other end of the alley. Some other officers dealt with the three men that she’d disarmed and knocked out. The officer talking to Max, called out to another, asking him to check the motorcycle. The man did and found, from what Sam heard, that the tire had been slashed. A concealed switchblade, found on one of the toughs, helped along Max’s case. And right after that, the officer running their id’s returned and informed them all that the pair had checked out and that the store owner had verified his employee and her boyfriend.
The officer handed Sam’s license back to him and headed over to Max. Straining to hear, Sam heard that the three men that had attacked Max, matched the description for suspects in several other robberies in the area. All three had warrants out on them. It was theorized that they’d been casing the store and getting a feel for Max’s routine. Too bad for them that she was a black belt in martial arts. Time seemed to slow down and speed up as Sam tried to keep up with what was going on around him and at the same time, create order out of his chaotic thoughts. Finally, the officer, after assuring that Sam and Max could come into the station to relate, verify and sign statements, in the morning, allowed them to leave the scene.
Sam turned away from the alley, ducking under yellow police tape that had seemed to spring up from nowhere and headed for the car, his license still held loosely in his hand. As he reached the driver’s side, he pulled out his wallet to replace it. Idly, he realized that he’d left the keys in the ignition. He pulled open the door and from the corner of his eye saw Max approaching him warily. Feeling nauseous, he gripped the top of the door and watched her approach, with caution screaming at him. Her face was tight and that fear was back. When she reached the far side of the car she waited a moment before she asked softly, “are we going?”
Sam could feel every nerve in his body tighten as he choked out in a whisper, “what the hell are you?”
It was Max’s turn to look and seem ill. She glanced once over her shoulder at the officers swarming the area. “Not here,” she shook her head. “Not now. Can we please just go?” Sam shook his head, feeling as if he were swimming in a tub of gelatin. Everything was muted and surreal. Max sighed heavily as fear was joined by pain. “Sam,” she whispered, “if I’d wanted to hurt you, I’ve had nearly a decade to do so. Why would I now?”
Sam stared at her, mulling it over. Obviously, he was not a threat to whatever she was. And she did not seem to be trying to hide the truth that he was so close to, just trying to delay it. What she’d said was true, on the surface, but Sam knew better than most not to trust that. But in all those years past, he’d never known that she was this different, that she was hiding things inconceivable from him. Watching him, she must have seen the indecision on his face and her chin dropped and then she glanced away. Sam looked in the same direction as she, seeing still the various personnel called upon to deal with this situation. It would look horribly wrong to abandon the woman who was supposed to be his girlfriend after an experience like this. Even though said so called woman was the one who’d triumphed, overcoming three to one odds with weapons involved.
“Get in,” he muttered lowly as he lowered himself into the driver’s seat. She complied, her movements stiff. Sam started the car and maneuvered them out of the parking lot. He drove mechanically, heading towards home, because it was the only place that he could think of, to go home.
But after a few blocks, Max hesitantly reminded him, “Sam? I still have to make the night deposit.” His eyes flickered toward her momentarily and saw the zippered pouch on her lap.
“Right,” he muttered and slowed down. He knew that she’d told him which bank it was before, eons ago it seemed, but for the life of him, he couldn’t remember. So he listened to her softly spoken directions and once he pulled up to the bank, he pulled in at the curb. Max climbed out of the car, leaving her door open and swiftly made the deposit. She climbed back into the vehicle and as she pulled the door shut, she turned to face him.
“You know,” she spoke defensively, “I’m pretty sure there’s a church somewhere around here. You can stock up on everything you need to protect yourself. Maybe I can take a holy water bath in the baptismal font. Would that help ease your mind?” Sam’s eyes flickered towards her once more, his jaw aching from being clenched so tightly. He ignored the taunt, precisely because he’d been vaguely thinking along those very same lines. But instead of replying, he simply continued driving. Once home, he parked, climbed out and headed straight for the house. Max followed, trailing slowly after him. He left the door open for her and when she entered their home and shut the door behind her, he finally exploded.
“Are you going to answer my question now?” he demanded angrily. Max’s eyes flickered to him as she removed her jean jacket.
“Which one?” she asked archly. “I’m sure you have hundreds.”
“What the hell are you?” he snarled, the words rapped out in a low staccato beat.
“Human… mostly,” she replied sincerely and then she rolled her eyes at the apprehension on his face. “you need to quit thinking stranger than fiction Sam.”
“So sorry,” Sam scowled. “Obviously I’m a little out of my depths. So what are we talking about?”
“Science fiction,” Max told him quietly, all joking aside. The scowl on his face deepened. Max moved into the living room and laid her jacket over the arm of the couch.
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” he demanded, following her. Max sat down, her movements stiff and jerky and ran one hand over her eyes.
“Sam, sit down,” she directed softly, but he just shook his head.
“Not until you tell me,” he barked out.
“Fine,” she frowned. “I’m a transgenic super soldier, created in a lab by the good folks at Manticore, which happens to be a black ops division of the Army. Does that answer satisfy you?” Sam felt weak in the knees. One thing rang through his mind.
“Manticore?” he repeated. “Like the…”
“Sam,” Max scowled, “do you really think that if I was some evil creature, I could have been around all the things we did and not been affected? Do you really think I could have-!”
“Okay, I get it,” he waved his hand in front of himself, cutting her off. “But that name? I’ve seen it before.”
“In Dad’s journal,” Max confirmed and Sam’s eyes darkened.
“Dad knows?” Max shook her head. “No, he doesn’t and neither does Dean. You’re the… first.” Sam closed his eyes, trying to remember what his father had written about the elusive subject.
"He thought it was military code for something,” he finally recalled.
“And he was right,” Max sighed softly.
“A black ops division,” Sam repeated. “I get that. But… transgenic?” Max took a slow deep breath, chewing on her lower lip.
“They were trying to create a stronger human,” Max finally began to explain as gently as she could. “Physical training could only do so much. So they decided to start much earlier.”
“Before birth?” Sam clarified, his eyes darkening as Max nodded.
“Geneticists tampered with our DNA, slicing in what they could from… elsewhere.”
“What do you mean? Elsewhere?” Sam demanded. “You said mostly human.”
“Animals,” she provided quietly. “They isolated certain desirable traits from animals and spliced them into our genome.” Sam stared at her, horrified. He finally sank down to the sofa, shaking his head in bewilderment.
“This is impossible,” he murmured.
“Well, since I’m right here, alive and well, it’s obviously not,” she retorted.
“Animals?” Sam repeated, his eyes darting to her face. “Like?”
“Feline,” she answered promptly. “We all had that. And there were some others. Can’t say exactly, we weren’t told. But Jondy and I always thoughts we had shark DNA, since we didn’t need to sleep as much as everyone else.”
“Shark DNA?” Sam repeated helplessly, his head falling back against the couch. “This can’t be real,” he grunted. “This is just…”
“Unbelievable?” Max asked softly, sounding a little hurt. “Yeah, I suppose if I were hearing this for the first time, but Sam… this is my life.”
“No,” he sighed. “It’s… how is this possible? That scientists are…?”
“It’s the government Sam,” Max scoffed. “Genetic science has been a growing field for decades. Naturally the government would tap the best and brightest. And with unlimited budgets and facilities, who knows how far things can go.”
“But to do this?” Sam demanded. “Where to they get off…?” he cut his rant short, as if realizing that this wasn’t the time. He turned his head to stare at her, feeling like he was looking at a stranger. “Why didn’t you tell us?” he demanded softly.
“I…” Max began and then moistened her lips. “There were a lot of reasons,” she admitted. “At first, it was a secret that I couldn’t tell. Something ingrained since birth. And then, I was scared. When I found out what you guys do…” She swallowed heavily. “When we ran into those snake things, I had no… outside reference to place these things in.”
“They were new to me too,” Sam admitted, turning in his seat to face her. Now that some of the shock was wearing off, he could feel his curiosity growing.
“But you had some idea of what it could be,” Max continued. “For me, the only thing I could think of, was that they were snake people, that maybe Manticore had made them too. And when Dad and Dean killed them…” her head bowed and Sam felt a chill run through him. He reached out and pushed a tendril of hair behind her ear.
“You were afraid the same thing would happen to you if we knew?” It wasn’t exactly a question, but she nodded anyways. “But what about after you figured things out?”
“I did try,” she smiled sadly. “Remember that day, the first time I had a seizure around you guys?” Sam frowned, recalling that long ago day she was referring to.
“Oh my God,” he murmured and gave a shocked laugh. “You did try, but Dad…”
“Didn’t want to hear about that,” Max concluded.
“And you made it all out to be a joke,” Sam nodded. “Okay, but why not later?”
“Because it was safer,” Max told him, her eyes haunted.
“Safer how?” Sam whispered, worried at the direction of this conversation. Max shrugged.
“What you didn’t know, you couldn’t tell.”
“Tell?” Sam repeated. “Who would I tell?”
“Any of the dozen different operatives that have been hunting me down for the past decade,” Max replied seriously, startling Sam. She made a disgruntled noise, as if she shouldn’t have to piece it all together for him. “Sam, the government put millions of dollars into creating me. Do you really think they’d just let me walk away?”
“But you’re a person in your own right,” Sam protested automatically, but Max was shaking her head.
“Not to them, I wasn’t. I was just a science experiment.”
“But-!”” Sam tried to protest again, but she had turned her face away from him. It was hard for him to take in and equally obvious hard for her to discuss. “Is that why you stayed with us when we asked you to?” Sam asked softly. Max nodded shakily.
"You guys were constantly on the move,” she reasoned. “And fitting in with you guys was easier than a normal family.”
“We always figured you came form a military background,” Sam chuckled without humor. “Just never imagined that this was why you fell in with Dad’s gung-ho ways so easily.”
“It was familiar,” she agreed with a sad smile. “And yet strange at the same time. That when you messed up, you just got lectured. It was a lot different… back there.”
“How different?” Sam whispered. They’d always assumed that Max had been abused as a child. It was something she never talked about. But because she’d seemed so well adjusted, they’d never pushed the issue and somehow, the idea had been pushed to the back of heir minds and all but forgotten.
“It depended,” Max offered vaguely and gave a small shudder. “Sometimes it was physical labor, extra laps, sometimes isolation. The worst was when they punished other members of your unit instead of you.”
“But you were just kids,” Sam cried out helplessly.
“No we weren’t!” Max snapped back. “Not to them. We were experiments, animals. Soldiers in training!”
“Training for what?” he demanded and she threw him a scathing look. “Training for what?” he repeated. “For war? For defending the country? What!!” She turned her face away from him, looking sick. “Oh my God,” Sam whimpered, feeling nauseous himself. “They were training you to kill, weren’t they?” She nodded quickly and jerkily. Sam’s vision blurred as his stomach roiled. “Please.. tell me… “ Her face flashed to his, tears streaming down her face. “My God… you killed someone?” Her chin jerked at the accusation couched as a question and Sam didn’t need her to confirm the horrible thought because he could read the truth of it in her face. But he just couldn’t accept this. He pushed himself off the sofa, unable to sit there, to hear this.
“Was it self defense?” he demanded pleadingly. It took a moment, but she finally shook her head in the negative. Sam continued to grasp at the only other viable option. “Were you ordered to?” Max lifted her face to stare at him.
"No,” she told him quietly, guilt shadowing her face. “The first time was-!”
"The first time!” he echoed, bile actually rising in his throat this time. “How many people have you killed?” he whispered, unconsciously backing away form her. Max saw this and flinched.
“Sam, it’s not what you think. There were reasons-!”
“Reasons!” he shouted. “There is no justifiable reason for murder!”
“Sam,” Max cried, standing up as well. But one step forward and Sam backed away further from this woman who was now a stranger to him. Whirling around, he headed for the front door. Max followed after him and caught his arms as he reached the front door. “Sam?” What are-!”
“Let go of me!” he snarled. Startled, Max let loose of him, tears still streaming freely.
“Please don’t,” she whimpered and Sam shook his head.
“Get away from me. I can’t…” he swallowed heavily, lifting his face to meet her gaze, his eyes now just as haunted as hers. “I can’t be with a murderer.” He ignored her pained gasp as he fled from the house.
*****
John was woken by the ringing chirp of a cell phone. Blinking rapidly, he turned his head and saw that Dean had left his phone on the nightstand. “Dean,” he rumbled and his only answer was a snore. Rolling his eyes, John snagged the phone, ready to tell off whatever little bimbo was calling for waking him up. Until he realized that it was his son calling. Remembering the last late night phone call Dean had received from his brother set John’s heart to pounding as he answered. “Sam?”
“Dad?” his son mumbled. “Thought I called Dean.”
“You did,” John confirmed as he climbed out of bed, glancing at his watch. It was almost 2 o’clock in the morning. “He’s sleeping. Are you okay?”
“Me?” Sam snorted. “’m fine.” John nudged Dean’s shoulder, but there was no response.
“Is Max okay?” was his next question. He smacked Dean’s shoulder and his son came awake with a grunt, his hand automatically sliding under the pillow his head rested on as his body tensed.
“She’s fine,” Sam mumbled. “better than fine. She’s apparently super. She’s superwoman! I wonder if she can fly. Maybe she can if she’s part animal. I forgot to ask.” John scowled at his son’s rambling.
“Sam, you’re not making any sense.” Dean’s eyes widened as he scrambled upright.
“Or maybe she’s cat woman,” Sam continued his rhetoric. “That’s why cats like her so much. ‘Cause she’s one of them.”
“Sam?” John frowned as Dean silently asked with elegantly arched eyebrows, what was going on. John shook his head. “Are you drunk?”
“No!” came the immediate denial and then, “maybe. Just a little.” John sighed and rubbed a tired hand over weary eyes.
“Sammy, where is Max?”
“At home,” his son answered quietly and there was something in his tone that made John’s stomach clench. “I left her…”
“You what?!” John snapped in surprise. “Sammy what the hell is going on?” He waved away Dean’s concern for the moment, trying to listen.
“Dad,” Sam whispered and John pressed the phone against his ear harder. “She killed people Dad. I don’t know… what to do.” John sucked in a shocked breath.
“No,” he breathed out a automatic denial. “No,” it was stronger this time. “Max wouldn’t do that.”
“She did Dad,” Sam’s voice sounded defeated and John suspected he was crying or the very next thing to it. “She told me so herself.”
“No, no,” John shook his head. “That’s not… Start at the beginning son. What happened?” He snapped his fingers at Dean and pointed to his jacket, and mouthed the words ‘call Max’ to him. Dean nodded and hurried to do his father’s bidding.
“She had to work late tonight,” Sam recounted slowly. “She called me ‘cause her tire was flat. But someone slashed it. They tried to rob her and… it doesn’t matter Dad. She’s a killer. A murderer. What she was trained to do.” John scowled again, trying to make sense of that statement. Was Sam trying to tell him that Max’s attackers had been possessed? He shook his head. “Dad… I can’t…” John could hear the desperate plea in his child’s voice.
“We’re coming Sammy,” he announced, suddenly anxious, glad that he’d let Dean talk him into this California job they’d just finished. “We’re not far. Where are you?”
“A bar,” Sam answered, his voice tired and worn out.
“Okay, let me talk to the bartender.” He glanced at Dean, who shook his head.
“She’s not answering the phone,” Dean announced quietly.
“Try her cell phone so that she knows its us,” John directed and pulled the cell phone up to his mouth. As Dean resolutely dialed Max again, John instructed the bartender to get his son in a cab and send him home.. The bartender was a little concerned, but John promised that his son’s girlfriend would be there to care for him. Dean received no answer again and left a terse ‘call me!’ on her voice mail.
“What the hell’s going on Dad?” Dean demanded as John hung up and began gather his clothes to dress. Dean followed suit.
“Sammy said some punks tried to rob Max tonight, probably after work.” He stilled and swallowed, not meeting his son’s gaze. “He said she killed them.”
“Oh fuck!” Dean spat out, closing eyes for a moment. “Son of a bitch.”
“Exactly,” John agreed. “We need to go now. But keep trying her cell. She might talk to you.” He waited a moment until Dean had gotten his shirt on before he tossed his son’s cell phone to him. Dean caught it and dialed Max again, pulling on his boots while he listened to the ringing. It took a while but it was finally answered.
“Dean?” came a familiar voice, but it wasn’t Max’s. “Thank God you called!”
“Jess?” he asked.
“Yeah.”
“Is Max there?”
“Yeah, she showed up here about an hour ago, looking for a place to crash. Do you know what’s going on?” the woman asked. “Because all I could get out of Max was that she and Sam had a massive fight and he walked out on her.”
“Damn it,” Dean swore under his breath. “Yeah, Sam called, apparently drunk off his ass and not making any sense. Let me talk to Max and see If we can figure out what the hell is going on.”
“If you can understand her,” Jess told him wryly. “She’s been crying nonstop since she got here.” There were some, muffled noises that Dean ignored as together he and John carried their bags out to the Impala. Finally Max came on the line.
“Dean?” Jess was right. Her voice was thick with tears.
“Maxie, what the hell is going on?” he demanded softly. “Sam called and said there was a robbery-!”
“Oh, right,” she gasped as if suddenly remembering the fact. John had automatically gotten into the driver’s seat so that his son wouldn’t be driving distracted.
“He said you killed them.” Dean continued on relentlessly.
“Oh no,” Max cried out. “No! I didn’t Dean. I just… knocked them out. And one of them had a gun.”
“So you didn’t kill them?” Dean clarified and both men felt a weight life off their chests. “Were you hurt?
“No,” Max answered in a tiny voice.
“So then what the hell was Sammy talking about?” Dean demanded, confused.
“I… can’t,” she sobbed.
“Max,” Dean sighed, “why is Sam drinking and why are you at Jess’?”
“We…”
“You what? Had a fight?” Dean tried to figure it out. “Max you need to go home and work this out with Sam.”
“I can’t,” Max cried.
“Yes you can,” Dean soothed. “Just-!”
“I can’t,” she insisted. “Dean, he doesn’t want me there. He doesn’t want… me.”
“Max,” Dean growled, thumping his head back against the seat’s head rest. But he knew how stubborn both his siblings were. “Fine. We’re on our way. Should be there in an hour or so.”
“Okay,” Max sniffled. “Dean,” she whispered. “I’m sorry.” But before he could ask her what for, she’d hung up. He shut his phone off and he and John discussed the most recent family drama.
*****
Sam wasn’t sure what woke him. If it was the blaring headache, the sun glaring through his eyelids or the noise level in the house. Whatever it was, he wasn’t happy with it. He turned his head, wincing at the pain in his head and neck and at the scratchy material beneath his cheek. He chanced opening his eyes again and recognized the coffee table, just about at his eye level. He wondered for a moment why he’d fallen asleep on the couch, but the memories of the previous evening surfaced in his mind and he groaned. Maybe it was all a dream. But no, the lingering nastiness in his mouth attested to the memory of heading to the nearest bar after he’d run away from Max. From what she…
“Mornin’ sunshine!” Sam’s eyes popped open again and he groaned once more and squinted up. His brother’s face stared down at him for a moment and then leaned over to place a mug of coffee and a bottle of aspirin on the table
“Dean?” Sam rasped out. “What’re you doing here?”
“Oh,” his brother drawled as he moved to take a seat on the sofa opposite Sam. “So you don’t remember calling me at two in the morning?”
“I did?”
Dean nodded. “Yup. Then you talked to Dad. And I suppose you don’t remember us getting here and finding you about two steps from alcohol poisoning?”
“Dad’s here?” Sam moaned, cautiously looking around.
“Not now,” Dean sighed. “Right now he’s trying to find out from Max what the hell happened. Because the only thing your stories have in common is that you walked out on her.”
“Dean,” Sam groaned again as he rubbed the heels of his hands against his eyes. “I can’t…”
“No!” Dean’s voice rang out authoritatively. “No more bullshit Sammy. You don’t tell us that she’s killing people and then not explain where the hell this is all coming from.”
“I told you that?” Sam whispered.
“You told Dad,” Dean confirmed, “and you told me right before you decided to regurgitate your guts.” Sam frowned. How much had he told his brother in a drunken delirium? Obviously very little, judging by Dean’s agitation. Sam reached for the aspirin and shook two tablets out of the bottle and cautiously swallowed them down with a gulp of the hot coffee.
“Of course,” Dean continued, his face grim and set. “Max said that she only knocked those guys out last night. So you can see why things aren’t gelling for me here?”
“Did she say anything else?” Sam asked, just as grim, If not more so.
“Just that she was sorry.” Dean shrugged. “Whatever the hell that means.”
“Oh! She’s sorry!,” Sam laughed dryly. “Sorry she did it? Or sorry we found out?”
“Found out what?” Dean demanded, leaning forward.
“I already told you Dean,” Sam snarled, throwing an angry glare in his brother’s direction. “And I’m not talking about last night.” Dean stared at Sam, hard. He inhaled deeply.
“Okay, so at some point, Max killed someone?” he grunted. “She probably had a hell of a good reason.”
“There’s no good reason for murder Dean,” Sam snorted.
“Really?” Dean growled. “Because I can think of four right off hand.” Sam’s eyebrows furrowed at this unexpected side of his brother. Dean held up one hand and counted them off. “You, dad, Max… myself.”
“It wasn’t self defense Dean,” Sam sighed. “And it wasn’t just one.”
“So what was it?” Dean demanded equanimically. Sam shrugged. “You don’t know?” Dean asked incredulously. “Jesus Sammy! You know, you really need to step down of this friggin’ pedestal of moral purity you’ve put yourself on. Because if you don’t and you keep pushing away everybody who’s ever made a mistake, then you’re the one who’s going to have a life of emptiness.” Sam flushed as Dean turned Sam’s long ago accusations back on him. Dean shook his head wearily. “You know, this all boils down to one thing.”
“What’s that?” Sam demanded curiously.
“Do you love her?” Sam’s eyes flickered towards his brother and then away again.
“Dean,” he began to protest feebly.
“Simple question dude,” Dean chuckled. “Do you love her?” Sam stared down at his hands, dangling between his knees as his elbows braced on his thighs. The question echoed around his mind. The shock of discovering something so horrific about Max had overridden everything the night before. But deep down… yes. He nodded slowly.
“Yeah, Dean, I still love her.” The admission seemed to light the room somehow and Dean’s expression as well.
“So work it out,” his brother directed. “You owe her at least the chance to tell you what really happened. And after that… well, whatever.”
“Whatever?” Sam snorted. Dean shrugged.
“Can’t make you accept something you’re so totally against. I’m not going to bang my head against that wall.”
Sam considered that. Dean had made it perfectly clear that he would go to those lengths to protect his family and himself. Would Sam, under extreme circumstances, do the same? Would he kill someone to keep his family safe? He had the disquieting feeling that if it came down to matters of survival, and he had no other choice, he might just go that far. Between the choices of killing someone or losing someone he loved because he chose not to act… It dawned on Sam that right at this moment, he was running the risk of losing Max.
“Where is she?” he finally asked. Dean jerked his head towards the main window.
“She’s been sitting out in the car with Dad for the last hour or so.” Sam looked automatically noting the Impala at the curb.
“Has she?”
“Dad picked her up from Jess’ this morning,” Dean explained. “He ran her down to the police station, so she could give her statement. They’re expecting you to come in this afternoon. She also called the lawyer’s office that you’ve been temping at and explained that you needed a day to deal with the robbery, so they’re not expecting you to come in until tomorrow. Then they took her bike to get the rear tire replaced and now, she’s just sittin’ outside with Dad in the car,” Dean paused for pointed emphasis, “to see if she needs to start packin’.”
Sam frowned, his heart clenching at that last thought. “Maybe we better talk first,” Sam decided, the words slipping out unbidden. Dean nodded and pushed himself to his feet.
“All right. Good boy,” he grinned. Sam scowled as Dean picked up his jacket. “I’m gonna drive Dad back to pick up his truck. But we’ll be in the area for a while, I guess.” Sam knew that was the closest Dean would ask him for a reassuring call that everything was fine. Sam stood up as well, and followed his brother to the front door, leaning against the arch wall.
“So I really called Dad?” he asked softly.
“You called me,” Dean corrected as he pulled the front door open. “And he got us moving the moment he knew that there was trouble.”
Dean left his brother with that thought and headed down the porch and walkway. He nodded at Max, who was waiting and then began to cautiously climb out of the car. She left the door open for him and John leaned over so that he could hear what was going on. “He wants to talk,” Dean announced.
Max chewed on her lower lip before quietly asking, “what did he tell you?”
“Nothing more than he said last night,” Dean shrugged awkwardly. “Whatever else is between you two. He still loves you enough to keep your secrets. He wouldn’t have said anything this morning if I hadn’t first.” He paused for a moment. “and I’m assuming you had good reasons?”
Max glanced away. “I don’t know that they were good, but yes, there were reasons.” Dean pursed his lips thoughtfully. “Dad can tell you,” she added and he nodded.
“Okay,” Dean sighed, reaching out one arm to her, unable to miss the way her body tensed and then realized when she realized that he was only trying to hug her. “You need to talk, you call me. You know I’ll listen,” he told her, holding her tightly. He felt her nod and let her loose.
Squaring her shoulders, she gave him a tight smile and began the short trek up to the house. She didn’t notice that they waited until she was completely in the house before they left. Max shut the door behind her and walked into the living room. She waited in the archway, her eyes drinking in every aspect of her boyfriend, sitting on the sofa, resolutely staring at the coffee cup on the table before him. Max cleared her throat, but he didn’t look up, so he was aware that she was there and choosing not to look at her.
“Dean said that you wanted to talk,” she offered, but that got no response. “Unless you just told him that to get him to leave you alone. So if that’s the case, I’ll just grab some clothes and get out of your way.” That startled him. His head snapped up, panic in his eyes.
“No!” he protested and then glanced away and then back down to the floor. “When I said talk, I think I meant, you talk and I shut up and listen until you’re through.”
“Oh,” Max gave a small, tense smile. She moved into the living room and took a cautious seat on the edge of the sofa. “I suppose you want to know the actually reason why I killed those two men.”
Sam’s head snapped up again. “Two?” he repeated. Max nodded.
“Just two,” she confirmed. “And no women or children.”
“I suppose that’s a relief,” Sam muttered. Max stared down at her hands, each clasping the other in some way.
“Hmm, maybe the second would be easier to understand for you.” Sam just waited in silence. “Remember when I told you last night that Manticore had operatives looking to recapture me?” Sam nodded. “Well, when we were in Los Angeles, buying Den’s birthday gift, one of the guards who worked in Wyoming, saw me. He caught sight of my bar code. I recognized him as well. Kind of hard not to when he spent six years screaming in my face. Anyway, we were about ready to head home. We were having coffee when I saw him. When we left, I told you that I had forgotten my wallet. I doubled back and found him. He was talking to Lydecker, the commanding officer. He was asking what to do about the civilian that I was with.”
Max swallowed heavily, fear of what could have happened that day was obviously still affecting her. “He confirmed that he and the TAC team that was on their way to meet up with him would… eliminate you.”
“What?” Sam gasped, turning to stare at her, his mouth now gaping.
“It would have been a tactic used to disorient me and also something to prevent you from investigating the nature of my disappearance. I would have let it be Sam,” Max wet her lips, “but he started giving Lydecker a description of you. He got as far as the fact that you were a Caucasian male and I… I snapped his neck. And then, I got the hell out of there.”
There was a short pause and then Sam said, “and I had no idea that anything like that had happened. Just stood at the corner and waited for you. But you killed him… for me?” Max nodded.
“If they knew anything specific about you, they would have hunted you down, looking for me. I couldn’t leave you vulnerable like that.” The hint of desperation in her voice tugged at him, evoking similar thoughts of if someone he loved was threatened.
“Okay,” he sighed, nodding. “I can understand that. What about… the first?” It was Max’s turn to sigh.
“That’s so much harder to explain,” Max bemoaned, her eyes fixed at her knees. She continued on when Sam would have protested. “Because you just don’t know what it was like back in Wyoming. At Manticore.” She glanced at him quickly and then away. “I don’t know if I can make you understand, because I… still don’t.”
Intrigued, despite the gruesome nature of the subject under discussion, Sam turned to her. “How old were you?”
Nine, I think,” she answered honestly determined to give him as much truth as she thought he could handle.
“You think?” Sam repeated, but Max was already shaking her head.
“Birthdays meant nothing there. I don’t really know for sure what day I was born.” Sam’s eyebrows shot up at that. “I mean,” Max hurried on, “I’m pretty sure I was born in the winter. That’s when Zack said I joined the unit. Manticore put us into units just after our fourth birthday.”
“That could be anywhere from November to March,” Sam sputtered, protesting and Max gave a small smile.
“Zack was pretty sure it was December or January. We didn’t have calendar to go by. So I kind of split the difference. First of January was just as easy a day to remember to add a year to my age.”
“Yeah, I suppose,” Sam murmured, remembering back to her first birthday celebration with his family. Remembered how she had revealed to him that she’d never celebrated her birthday before. “That just… boggles the mind, you know?”
“It’s just the tip of the iceberg,” Max pointed out quietly. “Nothing existed for us beyond the walls of Manticore, you know? We had no outside communication. Soldiers, trainers, handlers, doctors, none of them were allowed to fraternize with us, so that we wouldn’t be corrupted by superfluous details that didn’t pertain to our training and missions.”
“So you really knew nothing?” Sam questioned, another idea he couldn’t quite get his head and mind wrapped around.
“Oh, we knew things,’ Max assured him. “We had lessons in basic math, geometry that sort of stuff, advancing as we got older. But for the most part, we had no context for a lot of things.”
“How do you mean?”
“Like ghost hunting,” Max grinned. “If you’re open minded enough, you can admit that maybe there’s a tiny chance that yes, spirits could possibly exist. But until you actually see and experience one, you never quite fully believe. You know?” Sam nodded, remembering his first spectral encounter. It was exactly like she had said. “And maybe that’s what the problem was,” Max continued, her voice sadder than Sam had ever heard it.
“How do you mean?”
“Well, we were all curious,” Max sighed. “Children with cat DNA, how could we not be?” Sam snickered at that. He could see how that could have been a parents worst nightmare. “But we learned quickly to curb that impulse. Except Ben.”
“The storyteller?” Sam recalled from her earlier tales of her ‘siblings’.
“He always had questions. Things like, why was the sky blue, or how did birds fly and why did flowers close their petals at night. But the trainers would always tell him that these things weren’t important, that it didn’t pertain to the course material. So… he started making up stories to answer his own questions. But it always led to more and these stories Sam, some of them were so beautiful and others were… terrifying.”
“And you didn’t know any better, did you?” Sam understood her point immediately. She nodded.
“Ben was always so sure. I mean, there were moments that we doubted what he said, but, you know, we all saw the nomlies in the basement, so maybe the other things he talked about were true too.”
“Nomlies?” Sam queried and Max flushed a little bit.
“Anomalies,” she clarified. “We called them nomlies when we were little and that was always our name for them. They were… earlier, failed experiments. Some of them looked human and… some of them just… didn’t.” Sam shivered again at the thought of humans melded with various animals. Those snake things that they’d encountered so many years before had been disturbing enough.
So what happened?” Sam encouraged her to continue.
“Well, you know about the seizures,” Max went on. “We all had then,” she explained. “Some of us worse than others. Manticore tried different therapies, but nothing seemed to work out long term. They looked at it as one of the many unforeseen side effects of splicing genomes together.”
“Like not needing sleep?” Sam grinned and to his surprise, Max really blushed, ducked her head and murmured agreement. He reminded himself to ask her about that later. “So, the seizures?” he guided the conversation away and back to the previous topic.
“Well you know how bad they get?” Max offered and they both gave slight, unconscious shivers. “One night, Jack was seizing. It wouldn’t stop. We didn’t know what to do. If we did nothing, he’d die. If we called for help, he’d be taken away. And sometimes… they didn’t come back.” Sam inhaled sharply, but held his peace. “And then, we heard someone coming, so we all ran back to our beds. But it was just a janitor, putting away supplies. But he saw Jack. And, instead of calling for help, he gave something to Jack, told him something and then left. As soon as the door was shut, we all ran over to see what it was.” Sam watched as her eyes softened, luminescent as she remembered. “He’d given Jack a card with this beautiful, radiant woman in blue on it. Her heart was out there for the world to see.”
“The Virgin Mary,” Sam reasoned immediately and Max nodded..
“Ben called her the Blue Lady. See, the janitor had told Jack to pray to her, that she would protect him. The … moment that Jack touched that card… his seizures stopped, dead cold.” She blinked rapidly and smiled ruefully. “You can see I’m sure…”
“The power of faith?” Sam smiled widely and nodded.
“Well, not only did Jack’s seizures stop, but he’d lost a tooth,” Max continued. “I mean, it was loose before and with all that shaking, but Ben took it as a sign from the Blue Lady. He thought that she’d shaken out the tooth in exchange for saving Jack’s life, or at least that’s what she was trying to show us. And you know, that seemed weird, even to us. But Ben said that she needed the tooth, to make her heart stronger. And of course, since her heart was exposed, that made some sense, you know, to build her an enamel shield.”
“That’s about the strangest tooth fairy I’ve ever heard of,” Sam smiled gently. Max tilted her head and kind of shrugged, agreeing with him.
“So anyway, Ben built a shrine to her, at the top of our barracks building. The High Place, he called it. And whenever we lost a tooth, we’d take it up there and add it to the collection. The uh, more hardcore of us, even pulled a tooth or two.”
“Old string around the loose tooth trick, huh?” Sam chucked, which died off suddenly as Max slowly shook her head in the negative. “Oh, you…?”
“Oh, well not me,” Max grinned. “But yeah, tooth, root… hardcore.”
“Wow,” Sam breathed out. “Okay, so how does this… fit in?”
Max sighed deeply, her body stiffening again. “There were enemies all around us. The trainers talked constantly about ‘the enemy’. And Ben told us about how the enemy would try and hurt our Blue Lady. They’d go after her heart, because it was so vulnerable and pure. That they wanted it for his or her own. And that the nomlies, they were being punished for not protecting her.” Sam leaned forward, intrigued at how imagination and limited knowledge had shaped Max’s childhood. “They lived in the basement, the Bad Place. And soldiers who couldn’t redeem themselves were… given to the Nomlies and… eaten alive.” Sam’s gasp was barely noticed by her.
“So,” she cleared her throat, trying to hold emotion at bay, more so than because of lingering soreness from her lengthy crying jag. “During this time, Lydecker was arranging different forms of training for us. He had just added a new element to escape and evade. Before, we were the ones who had to evade, but they felt that it wasn’t enough. Lydecker wanted to teach us the other side, the capture. The first two times, everything went like it was supposed to. Lydecker had death row inmates brought in. They were told that if they could make it over the perimeter fence, they were free. If we caught them, it was back to death row. And none were ever free for long. The men were given weapons, and it was no holds barred. They could do whatever they came up with to enable evading us. They could try and capture or trip us up, even kill us if they had to.”
“They told them that?” Sam gasped, feeling sickened. Max nodded and then gave a one shouldered shrug, looking slightly smug.
“Those guys couldn’t quite bring themselves to. At least the ones we went up against. Those guys would fire wide. I guess none of them could handle… kids.” Sam nodded. Even thieves and murderers could live by a self-imposed code. Their own sense of morals. Max continued, “the third time, it all started off the same. The prisoner had a gun and a hunting knife and he was released ahead of us. Lydecker made us wait while he counted down the time and then they let us loose. When we caught up to him, we were in horseshoe formation. Those of us at the back revealed ourselves and drew his fire while the others at the front had surrounded him and easily disarmed him.”
Sam waited patiently, silently, through these details, recognizing her unconscious delay at having to get to the final distasteful end. Her voice got quiet and she was unable to meet his eyes.
“Twenty super soldier kids on one guy. There was no way he could get away. We… subdued him. When we… his shirt was ripped open and he had… a tattoo. A dagger… through a heart.” Sam realized in an instant the fear that was the driving force behind whatever actions were to happen after that discovery. “I remember… we thought he was another nomlie. A soldier without honor. And we just… reacted. Beating him and kicking…” she trailed off for a moment, her eyes vacant and Sam wondered with a sick feeling, if she was reliving it and even more nausea as he was sure she was. Slowly she came back to herself, her eyes flickering between him and her hands clenched tightly together in her lap. “By the time the trainers had pulled us off… he was dead.”
“My God,” Sam whispered, frozen in his seat, swallowing back bile that had nothing to do with the after effects of his drinking jag.
“They were all stunned,” Max continued finally. “I mean, truly horrified by what we did. Lydecker ordered us into lock down. And when we didn’t tell him why we’d disobeyed a direct order, he sent us for… psychiatric evaluation.” She shuddered again.
“I take it that that wasn’t good?” Sam whispered and Max shook her head, unable to speak even now about it.
“We didn’t tell them what happened, who threw the first punch, why we didn’t stop when ordered to. So we had to go through some basic reindoctrination and then were sent back to barracks. But Jack didn’t come back.” She turned her head away.
“What happened?” Sam asked softly, unconsciously moving closer to her.
“I snuck out to go find him.”
“Did you…?” She nodded.
“He’d suffered a grand mal seizure during questioning, I… they were performing an autopsy on him.”
“You saw that?” Sam’s face darkened as she nodded. Jesus. Even John had spared he and Dean from that gruesome task and other things like that whenever he possibly could, even when they were older.
“I went back to tell everyone,” she continued, shivering. “and Ben, he went up to the High Place. I think he thought that the Blue Lady was punishing us by killing Jack. Manticore found him up there and took him away.”
“Did they…?” Sam couldn’t even say the words.
“No. He came back after a few days. But he wasn’t the same. Something… broke in him. He was different. Everything was different,” she sighed. “We were isolated from everyone. Whenever anybody had to come into our barracks, there were guards with them, with weapons at the ready. They wouldn’t look us in the eye. They were… scared of us. And Zack, he said it was because of what we had done. That killing that man was wrong. Not because it was in violation of our orders. And he wanted to leave.”
“So you ran away?” Sam knew that much from years past.
“Zack was the commanding officer of our unit. He told us to, so we had to go, were going to go, but…”
“But what?” Sam asked softly, his hand gliding over her shoulder comfortingly.
“The night we were going to escape, I had a seizure.” Sam held back his breath. “Two guards and a medical technician came into the room to see what was going on. And… my unit wasn’t going to let them take me away. So Zack and Eva attacked. They disabled the guards and Eva got a gun. She took point and we ran.” Sam could feel the shiver racing through her and moved even closer, his hand moving to the small of her back as she huddled into herself. “Some guards trapped us in a corridor and Lydecker was there with them. Eva had the gun, but she wouldn’t use it unless she had to.”
“Did she?” Sam questioned softly. Max shook her head.
“She never had a chance. Lydecker shot her, point blank in the chest. There… was this moment, this absolute fear pervading the air and I heard this crash. And then Zack pushed me to the window. We all went out that window. We rendezvoused at the previously arranged co-ordinates. Zack made us split up and told us to escape, evade and go to ground. I didn’t want to split up, but he made us. So Jondy and I ran for the perimeter fence. But we had to cross a stream. The ice broke under me and I fell in. I remember hearing Jondy screaming for me, but there was… I let go for a while, until I thought I was far enough from the area where I fell in. I broke out and kept running. When I got over the fence, I was on a road. One of the nurses from the base, Hannah, found me. But instead of taking me back, she hid me, protected me. She took me out to this cabin and told me that she’d find some way to keep me safe. She made some phone calls and then she left. I waited, but she didn’t come back. We had been trained to keep moving in enemy territory. So I left. And you… pretty much know the rest,” she concluded softly, still not looking at him.
Sam had no idea what to say. This, he couldn’t blame Max. If anything and he was sure, it was the fault of this Manticore, Lydecker, all of the adults who had been involved, who had trained and taught and created this mess. He could see the self-loathing, regret and utter fear in Max over this. She stood and moved to look out the window overlooking their front lawn. She pressed one hand against the glass.
“I’ve tried forgetting that day, but I can’t,” she whispered sadly, still staring out the window. Sam turned to regard her, leaning forward to listen. “There were times, when we were hunting, whether it was the four of us, or three or even just Dean and I…,” she explained slowly. “It took me a while to figure it out. I didn’t understand until that shape shifter attacked Dean. I could… smell his fear. It took me right back to that day.” She bowed her head. “That’s what we were reacting to. Not the tattoo, or the nomlie. It was Ben’s fear. It was… instinct that demanded we eliminate the threat to Ben.”
“Instincts?” Sam questioned softly. “Was that one of the unforeseen side effects?”
“Instincts, deeper than what we were taught and trained for. Instincts that, no matter what, we can’t deny… or suppress,” Max nodded slowly. “We were more than just a unit. We were… a pack. And above everything else, we had to protect our own.”
“Just like family,” Sam offered and he caught a glimpse of her face reflected in the window, smiling sadly.
“Yeah, my family. But you guys,” she tilted her head to the side contemplatively. “you became my family too.”
“So,” Sam began, rising to move to stand beside her, a glow thrumming through his body as he recognized that he had needed to hear how much she cared. But there were still questions. “What does this all mean, instinctively? I mean, I’m pretty sure that we Winchesters don’t have the same type of genetic combos that you do. I guess…”
“It means,” Max inhaled, a small smile playing at her lips, “that I know and recognize each of your scents. I can pick you out in a crowded room by scent alone, in the dark. Or you know, blindfolded or something, since, cat… night vision and all.”
“You can see in the dark?” Sam exclaimed, startled. Obviously there were a lot of what could reasonably be called perks that he hadn’t even considered yet. Max gave a rueful half smile as if reading his thoughts.
“No one can see in total dark by themselves. I have to have a little of some form of light.”
“What else can you do?” Sam asked, his curiosity flaring.
“Um, super sensitive hearing, I can hold my breath for a really long time. I have about three times the strength of a well-trained bodybuilder. Enhanced speed and endurance.”
“You blurred,” Sam interrupted, recalling the fight in the alleyway. “And ran across a wall.” She nodded. “Christ! You are superwoman!”
“Not quite,” Max chuckled. “Although I can jump really high, I haven’t leapt over any tall buildings in a single bound.”
“So you can’t fly either,” he muttered with a self-deprecating grin. “Can you walk on water?”
“I’m not the Messiah Sam,” Max giggled, though it seemed a little forced and then she frowned. Sam shook his head. Out of everything in his life, this had to be the most… he couldn’t even think of an appropriate enough word for it, or even a string of words. But there was one thing he had to know. He touched Max’s arm lightly and she turned towards him, waiting to see what he wanted.
“You said we became your family,” he offered. “Does that mean…?” Max’s eyebrows furrowed and her eyes darkened. “What you did to protect me… would you do it again?” she swallowed and slowly nodded. “Even if I asked you not to?” Sam pressed. Max closed her eyes for a moment, inhaled slowly and exhaled carefully.
She lifted her face, opened her eyes to meet his gaze and stated clearly, “if it kept you safe, then yes, I would do it, regardless of you asking me not to.” Sam stared at her for a long moment and then it was his turn to stare pointlessly out the window, lost to his own thoughts. It was a startling day to discover the lengths his girlfriend and even his own family would go to, all in the name of love.
“Sam?” she spoke hesitantly, “I know this changes things between us.” Her jerked his chin up, a brash acknowledgment of that sweeping understatement. “Do you want me to leave?” she asked in a tiny voice.
“No!” Sam’s head snapped around to stare at her, because like her, Sam had some instincts of his own and the word was out before he had even fully processed her question. “No,” he repeated more softly and there was no way he could miss the hope in her eyes. “But Max, I… need some time. To think. To…” Her head bowed again and she hugged herself around the middle.
“Okay,” she whispered. “I understand.”
And silence fell between them.
RTD22- A Waiting Game
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