Title:
When It Changes
Author:
Restive Nature
Genre:
Crossover
Type:
WiP
Shows:
Dark Angel and Supernatural
Disclaimer:
Neither show represented in this fiction belongs to me. Dark Angel is
the product of Cameron/ Eglee and Fox, whereas Supernatural is the
product of Kripke and The CW. No profits are made from this fiction
and it is intended for private enjoyment only.
Story
Rating: PG-13 up to NC-17 for language,
violence and sexual situations. (All higher rated material will be
contained in its own chapter and clearly marked at the beginning of
the chapter. PG versions of these chapters will also be available.)
Chapter
Rating: PG-13 for language.
Time
line/ Spoilers: This story takes place
predominantly in the Supernatural time line. This means that the Dark
Angel structure of post-pulse America does not fit in. The massive
changes will be that Manticore is decades ahead of itself and the
characters from DA are born much earlier than portrayed on the show.
There is no Pulse occurring. Any other changes to the structures or
episodes of the shows will be (hopefully) explained within the story
itself.
Pairing:
Dean/ Max, other canon pairings
Summary:
Change can be a choice and you never know where the road you choose
to take will lead you.
When
It Changes
Chapter
Thirty-five
Courting
Disaster
“You
trying Max again?” Dean asked as he was removing some clothes from
his duffel. Sam, pulling the towel from his hair and tossing it onto
the bed as he thumbed their sister's number into his phone once more,
just nodded.
After
their harrowing night being attacked from any and all angles from
killer insects, their priorities had been to get the hell out of
there, find a motel, any motel and shower the feeling of the stings,
bites and just the general creepiness of little buggy legs crawling
all over them, off. Sam had won rights to the first shower just
because his legs were longer and he was able to make it to the
bathroom first. He also had the feeling that if Dean had another
credit card or enough cash, he'd have gotten another room just for
the bathroom alone. Sam hid his smirk, recalling how girlish his big
brother had gotten over that steam shower in the house they'd
squatted in, on the last case.
After
a few minutes, the phone was finally answered on the other end. But
it was Kendra who had answered.
“Hey
Sam,” she greeted enthusiastically enough. He had to smile. She'd
never had a bad word to say, even when things got strange or weird.
“What's up?”
“Just
calling in for my weekly check-up,” he joked. Kendra's laugh
tinkled over the line.
“You
make her sound like a parole officer,” she giggled and Sam smiled.
Of course Max was in the same boat as he. If he had to check in with
her, it was just as much the shoe on the other foot. And speaking
of...
“Well
if the steel toed boot fits,” he joked, knowing well his sister's
propensity for the occasional less than feminine footwear she
indulged in. “Is she home yet?”
“Actually
you just missed her,” Kendra could make an unseen over the
telephone pout, unlike any other. “She's heading over to Logan's.
Which is a good thing. Because after the week she has had and their
huge ass fight...”
“She
and Logan were fighting?” Sam caught and seized upon. He knew that
it had caught his brother's attention, the way he stilled and waited
for more information, just the same as Sam.
“Yeah,
I guess,” Kendra sighed and blew out a frustrated breath. “I
don't know if, well, I mean I know what he did to piss her off. But I
guess it got even worse.”
“What
did he do?” Sam demanded at once, settling himself on the end of
the bed and giving his brother 'uh-oh' face in the gleeful manner of
one who had been expecting something like this and was quite
unperturbed about it. Dean
seemed to be fighting a grin and he continued to organize his
clothes. Sam was not at all surprised to see that his brother was
putting off his shower by a little to find out what had gone down
between their sister and the guy that they were sure was a major
cause of problems in Max's life. Some of the crap he seemed to pull
her into...
“Well,
Max was being an absolute sweetheart,” Kendra began, seeming to
talk while she was doing something else. Sam could hear what sounded
like drawers shutting and realized that Kendra was probably getting
ready for an evening out. But as long as she was willing to talk, he
was willing to listen. “She invited Logan here for dinner, to thank
him for all the times that he cooked for her.”
“Uh
huh,” Sam encouraged as Dean moved closer. He managed not to roll
his eyes at his brother's obsessive compulsive behavior. It had been
going on too long now for him to continue harping on. It was just a
newish old behavior applied, most likely because Max wasn't there for
Dean to keep his nosy older brother eye on. He did however, tilt the
phone slightly so that Dean could hear as well. It would save him
from having to give Dean a blow by blow replay of the conversation.
“And
you know she can't cook a damn thing,” Kendra was going on. “So I
taught her how to make pasta tricolore.” Sam ducked his chin and
chuckled. That would have been a sight. Max had learned how to bake,
but cooking seemed to elude her on the best days. It was a
bittersweet thought, since it was something she had enjoyed with
Jess. He pushed the thought away as Max's room mate went on. “Anyway,
I left after Logan got here. But I guess he was all business and
completely disregarded her efforts and made her go do some errand
with him for one of his articles.”
“Ouch,”
Sam winced. He knew very well what cardinal rule of male/ female
behavior that Cale had broken, but his brother's snort of amusement
drew his attention.
“Always
knew the guy was a dumb ass,” Dean declared quietly, but with the
same self satisfied smugness that Sam wasn't admitting to quite yet.
“So
I take it he must have made it up to her,” Sam sighed, since Kendra
had said...
“He
must have,” Kendra grumbled. “Though I have no idea how. No
flowers or gifts or anything, but she was in a better mood tonight.
Probably,” and then she let our a snorting giggle. “Normal,”
she got out and Sam's eyebrows raised up swiftly.
“What'd
he do now?” he demanded gently.
“Turns
out he was dating a woman, formerly named Louis, who,” Kendra
informed them with pleasure, “after just a few dates with Normal,
decided she was gay.”
That
was enough to send Dean off into paroxysms of laughter, while Sam
fought valiantly to hide his own smile. It wasn't a pleasant
prospect, to have.. that happen, but it was Normal and... he just
couldn't hold it in. Sam wasn't as obnoxious about it as Dean, but
the laughter escaped and he couldn't take it back. “Oh man,” he
sighed, “that's bad. I mean, it's Normal, but still...”
“Yeah,
Cindy felt pretty bad for him,” Kendra cooed over the line. And
before he could ask, went on. “I guess it was a huge joke, of
course it was. But this chick? She actually had the nerve to break up
with Normal and then turn around and ask him to give Cindy her
number.”
“Now
that sucks,” Dean grunted. And Sam was in full agreement.
“Did
Cindy take it?” he wondered aloud and Kendra was immediately making
negative noises.
“She
said that if the girl was gonna treat other people like that,
especially one that she claimed to like, even if it was just as a
friend, then it was someone she didn't want to know,” Kendra
informed him and Sam was nodding. Cindy might be quite an over the
top character, but she had a good heart. He knew that already. And
the same could be said of Kendra. At least, he was relieved to
realize again, that Max had some good people in her life there in
Seattle. Unlike...
“So
back to Logan,” he hinted. “He must have done something to get
back in her good graces. 'Cause you know Max can hold a grudge.”
His eyes flew to Dean as he said that, smirking at his elder brother,
who just sneered mockingly at him and moved away to grab a few things
out of his bag.
“I'm
goin' to shower,” he announced in a whisper and Sam nodded.
“I
have no clue,” Kendra told him. “All I know is that he screwed
up, Max was on an anti man rant, she and Sketch almost got caught in
the middle of that gang war goin' down on Clemson, she was gone one
night and when she got back, she had calmed down about it all. Oh and
she said something about the cops and some girls. Which, oh! That was
probably it.”
“What
was it?” Sam asked helplessly, not knowing what to panic over. Gang
wars? And with Sketch, who was not notoriously brave or reliable, or
in any way qualified to protect his sister. Not that she would need
it in most circumstances, but.. gang war! He did notice that whatever
panic was in his voice had stopped his brother cold in his tracks and
Dean had half turned at the entrance to the bathroom to stare,
puzzled again at the sudden shift.
“Well,
Max was going on about guys bein' all task oriented and just, like I
said, anti men. I mean, the girl didn't even want to kick it with
Sven!”
“Who
is Sven?” Sam asked with a grimace, wishing now that he had just
called Max's cell direct instead of his usual try her at home first
routine. But then, she probably wouldn't have said a word about the
majority of this, as was her typical mode of operation.
“Blond
haired, blue eyed Swedish Adonis I know,” Kendra tittered, but then
grew serious again. “Just a friend. But Max left Crash as soon as
we all got there. That was the night she took off. I went to check on
her, but she was on the phone, talking to someone about some girls
that had just been nabbed off the streets. It was on the news.”
“It
was?” Sam's radar went up even further. How did they not know...
well he knew. But then, there must have been nothing supernatural
about it.
“Yeah,”
Kendra confirmed. “This dirt bag was paying some dirty cops to
round up young girls that were out after this supposed curfew, which
is totally bogus, and then Brock? Or something like that, this guy
was smuggling them to the middle east to be sold in slave auctions.”
“What!”
Sam's voice had entered a register that he was quite certain he
hadn't seen since puberty and Dean was at his side in an instant.
“Jesus!” Sam exclaimed, but before either Dean or Kendra could
respond, he muttered, “hang on!” And then with his hand muffling
the phone, quickly relayed to Dean what Kendra had just told him.
“Told
you man,” Dean replied, a heavy sadness lingering in his eyes as he
shook his head, “it's a fucked up world out there.” Sam nodded
slowly. “But how does Max figure in?” Sam shook his head and
turned back to the cell, repeating that very question to Kendra.
“Oh,
she's friends with one of the detectives, I think, through Logan,”
Kendra explained. “So I think she had called Logan so that he could
tell his cop friend. I mean, she saw it happen. You know Max. She's
not gonna ignore something like that.”
“No,
of course not,” Sam sighed. Kendra was right. His sister would
never. And giving the police information and of course there would be
so much more red tape given that Internal Affairs would have to be
involved. But little girls... It was a sickening thought to
contemplate.
“Okay,
so one more question,” Sam sighed and snagged his brother's sleeve
before Dean could retreat again. He already knew the hell he'd pay if
Dean found out about this after the fact. Dean shot him a slight
glare and Sam held up one finger. “Please tell me you were just
kidding about this gang war.” He knew that he'd made the right
decision when Dean's eyes widened and he sank back down to the bed.
“Ah
crap!” Kendra grunted. “Yeah, that probably would have been on
the list of things not to tell you about if Max knew...”
“Knew
what?” Sam demanded. “Okay Kendra, you can't not tell me now!”
“Gossipy
little bitch aren't you?” Dean smirked happily and Sam grimaced at
him, wrinkling his nose and then leaning away from his elder brother.
Dean's eyes narrowed, not too much and Sam was wondering about the
wisdom of pushing buttons at the moment. At least it was slightly
distracting, but he'd much rather hear about Max's problems, so he
knew what he could call bull shit on when he finally
talked to her.
There
was a long sigh and then Kendra began speaking in a scolding tone.
“All right, look Sam, I got the story from Sketch and you know what
he's like.”
“I
know,” Sam nodded, even though she wouldn't see. He wondered if
she'd ask him to cross his heart and not break a secret swear or
something. But she didn't. She just sighed once more and began the
tale.
“All
right, so Sketch had to deliver a package on Clemson street, which he
says are in perpetual turf and gang wars,” Kendra informed her
audience of two, since Sam had tilted the phone for Dean once more.
“It's not as bad as that, but honestly, tensions have escalated on
occasion. As I understand it, they usually don't bother service
people.”
“Okay,”
Sam hedged. “So why was Sketch...?”
There
was another aggrieved noise from the blond on the other end of the
line. “They had to deliver... it was a finger, okay?”
“What?”
the question echoed in the room as both males blurted it out.
Naturally though, Kendra noticed and seized upon the distraction.
“Is
that your brother Dean with you?” she asked with a laugh.
“Um,”
Sam hedged, because he didn't really want to get onto the topic of
over sexed elder brother phone meeting little sister's over sexed
room mate. “Yeah, he's just... leaving.” He scrunched up his
face, squinting his eyes almost shut as he waited for the expected
blow for being an intentional cock block, but Dean was just looking
slightly amused again. Sam eased away from his brother and Dean shook
his head. At that point, Sam wasn't sure if Dean was waiting until he
relaxed slightly, or if his brother was warning him that he'd get it
when Sam least expected it to come.
“But
seriously,” he hurriedly continued, hoping now to distract them
both. “A finger?”
“Oh
all right,” Kendra grumbled. “Sketch said that the gangster
recognized the finger and demanded to know where the pick up was
made. When Max told him, the guy went a little nuts, threatening them
and everyone else that pissed them off and remember, according to
Sketch,” she stressed the
words, “they barely got out of there with limbs and skin attached.”
Sam shuddered as the unintentional
reminder of the shape shifter that had impersonated Dean and so many
others came to the fore front of his mind. He was pretty sure Kendra
wouldn't ever use those words again if she'd been anywhere around the
moltings of that being. He shivered, glad that he hadn't eaten in a
while. And probably wouldn't now that that was on his mind. Not for a
few more hours anyway.
“Okay,” Sam sighed, figuring that
he'd covered about everything that he could with Kendra and she was
probably feeling bad about letting that slip. If he wanted to stay in
good standing with her, he'd have to figure out how to handle Max
without her blaming her room mate. But that whole thing about a list
of things Kendra wasn't allowed to tell him, well, that was a bonus
little tidbit that he could guilt her with. He knew instinctively
that that would work. “Well, I've probably taken up enough of your
time.”
“It's okay Sam,” he could hear he
smile in her voice once more. “I know you worry about her. She
worries about you too. And Dean. That's the way family works.”
“That it does,” he agreed with a
pleased smile, before they exchanged their final pleasantries and
hung up. He stared at the phone in his hand, wondering how much
trouble he'd get in for deliberately calling Max and interrupting her
evening with Logan, especially after all Kendra had told him about
their having a fight and now apparently making up.
Once again, he was wondering what was
really going on between those two that Max wasn't telling him.
*****
Max stared at the phone in her hands.
She had been debating making this call the last day or so. Ever since
Kendra had informed her that Sam had called while she was over at
Logan's for dinner. Kendra had also informed her that she had sort of
spilled the beans on what Max had been up to. Max could have been
upset, but wasn't. She recognized that she had put Kendra in a tough
position by asking her not to talk to Sam about some stuff. But when
they had first talked about it, Kendra had pointed out that she
understood. She had the same problem with her family. According to
Kendra, her mother was a worrywart. And every time she talked to the
woman, the older lady was full of misgivings still about Kendra
living in such a crime riddled city.
The way Kendra had drawled the word had made Max laugh. It sounded
very dirty when said that way.
So Kendra had assured Max that she
would keep mum about most subjects and hinted that she was aware that
Max herself didn't tell her everything and as long as Max wasn't
getting into something that could endanger her or anyone else, then
she was fine with it. Since they had much different ideas of
endangerment, Max had agreed. Promising her friend that she was
always careful, in more ways than one. That had been good enough for
Kendra and she had gone on preparing for her date night with her new
mystery man.
Max was pretty much ready to go for
her own night. She was just waiting a little closer to dark, since,
as she had told Logan, this proposed hit on a witness in the
protection program wouldn't go down until it was dark. And at the
same time, being on a schedule would give her an excuse to get off
the phone with Sam, if it got to be too much.
She bit and held her lower lip as she
pulled up his number and dialed it. Better to just get it over with.
She smiled softly when he answered almost immediately, sounding
gruff, tired.
“Hey, I hear you called,” she
greeted.
Hey Max,” he returned with a
sigh. “And I gotta tell you...”
“Not to happy with what you heard
from Kendra?” she questioned gently. Kendra hadn't told her word
for word the entire conversation, but enough. She just wasn't sure
what Sam would jump on first, since there'd been plenty of
ammunition.
“Not even remotely,” he chuckled.
She frowned. Something sounded off with him, but she wondered at
bringing it up. Maybe after she had alleviated his concerns for her,
they could play the turn around game.
“Okay,” she began, leaning back on
her bed with her free hand. “What do you want to hear about first?”
She heard muffled words in the back and knowing the boys, they would
probably be in the car, headed for another case. She winced slightly,
thinking of Dean and then snapped her mouth shut. She hadn't exactly
been dream free on the nights she did catch a little shut eye, but
she could control her waking moments and the thoughts were resolutely
pushed away.
“God, I don't know,” Sam groaned.
“I mean, yeah, it all sounded pretty bad. But Kendra was also
passing on information from Sketchy and we all know how reliable he
is. Did you really deliver a finger?”
“Umm, yeah?” she framed it as a
question even as she wanted to laugh. That wasn't all that unusual,
but she wasn't going to tell him that it wasn't the first time that
had happened. It was just the first time she had been in the same
room as the recipient opening up a body part. She was quite sure that
it had happened before. She heard Sam sigh heavily. “Okay,” she
began quickly, “yes, Sketch and I delivered a finger. It was from
one of Bleed's gang. Kendra said that Sketchy told her about Bleed
threatening us. What he said was that we needed to clear out before
they took care of their rivals. And to stay out while this went down.
Despite what the media reports, these guys are smart.”
“They might be smart, but accidents
have been known to happen,” Sam countered instantly. “Max, I
really don't like this, but!” he raised his voice over any protest
she was making. “But,” he continued when she silenced herself, “I
know that you're not going to deliberately walk into a bad situation
and yes, I realize that stuff like this happens. So please, just be
careful.”
“I will,” she smiled. “I
promise. Now, anything else?”
“What don't I have to worry about
with you?” Same teased, making Max laugh softly.
“I could say the same about you,”
she pointed out. “At least I have the advantage of knowing my
territory really well. You guys keep walking into all these different
places, not knowing all the little things that might be going down
that you could be walking blind in.” Her heart and throat clenched
spasmodically as the thought became verbal.
“Touche,” Sam countered. There was
a small pause and then Sam was sighing. “I don't know Max. Why does
it seem that every time we talk there's some crap going on?”
“Hey, there are whole days, weeks
even, in my life,” she began, but when she heard the disgruntled
noise he gave, she smirked, but it faded quickly. “You don't mean
just me, do you?” And before he could reply, she asked softly,
“what's going on Sam? Where are you guys at?”
“Just on our way to another case,”
he offered instantly, warily and her senses seized upon it.
“What case and where?” she wanted
to know.
“It's nothing,” Sam immediately
protested and Max picked up just as quickly that there was something
about the case that was bothering him. She winced slightly, wondering
if it was again, like the case with the Warrens, someone that Sam
knew. Not wanting to put too much pressure on him if that was the
case, Max was hesitant.
“Are you sure?” she asked gently.
“I can tell from your voice that it's something. It's not...
another friend is it?” she tried to maneuver carefully there and
was rewarded with a tired chuckle.
“No, nothing like that,” Sam
denied. “And if you're hearing anything in my voice, it's lack of
sleep.” He paused and Max knew what would come next in this
defensive dance of hiding things from one another to save each other
from the worry.
“Uh
huh,” she murmured, unconvinced. She knew what Sam sounded like
when he was cranky from insomnia and this was nothing like that.
There was a tightness in his voice that spoke to a very deeply
repressed emotion. She almost wanted to laugh. And indeed, something
slipped out. “Sam?” she waited until he gave
an indication that he was listening. “Okay, I spent how many years
with you guys?” she asked in teasing, but slightly serious tones.
She didn't allow him to answer, since
they all knew that. “And pretty close quarters a lot of the time,”
she went on. “And even if it has been a few years, I still
remember. That is not how you sound when you're sleep deprived.”
And now was decision time. She could hear how his breath had sucked
in slightly over the line and was sure that he suspected that she was
going to ambush him. But she wasn't. A glance at the lowering sun in
the afternoon sky told her that she didn't have time to get into
this. And she could always keep this for later. If it happened again.
And she was pretty sure, given the natures of their self appointed
jobs, it would.
“Max,” Sam sighed down the line
and she chuckled.
“I get it Sam,” she assured him.
“I remember the nightmares and the difficulties. And I'm really not
surprised that it hadn't been apparent much earlier.”
“Yeah,” he agreed softly, sounding
a little relieved.
“But it's not just that either, is
it?” she asked astutely and then Sam was giving her that tired
sound that let her know that she was on the right track without
having to actually ask. “Don't worry. You don't have to tell me.
I've kind of already figured that the case you just finished was
pretty rough or the one you're heading to, you're not looking forward
to.”
“The second one,” he confirmed
quietly. They were silent for a long moment and then it was Max's
turn to sigh.
“Okay, well, I have an appointment
tonight I need to get to,” she offered with a small moue of
distaste. “But if you want to talk, I'll have my cell with me.”
There was an even longer pause and then Sam cleared his throat.
“This case?” he began softly and
it was so quiet, that Max was suddenly glad for her enhanced senses.
“It's in Kansas.” She waited. “In Lawrence,” he admitted and
she blanched silently. Her mind rapidly cycled through that
information and she frowned. Why would it be affecting Sam so bad? He
didn't have the same kind of connection or feelings about the place
that John or Dean had. Or was this simply a reaction to how Dean was
handling going back to a place that he had sworn never to set foot
in? And what was so important about the job that they hadn't simply
passed it off to another hunter? Or had Sam insisted that they deal
with it? He got that way sometimes. Trying to force people to deal
with things in what he considered a healthy, emotionally mature,
responsible way.
Didn't always turn out that way.
“Okay,” she spoke slowly,
considering. “That explains some things. But not everything.” She
heard Sam sigh once more. “And I am sure that the dissection of all
that would probably take longer to hash out than it would to actually
deal with this job. Am I right?”
“One hundred percent,” Sam laughed
and this time, it sounded genuine. She smiled, relieved that she
could bring him this small amount of relief. “But we'll be fine,”
he assured her.
“I know you will,” she teased
back. “After all, Winchester's are amazingly good at
compartmentalizing when they need to.”
“That we are,” Sam agreed. “What
time do you need to get going?”
“Right away, actually,” Max noted,
glancing at the clock on the microwave. It would take some time to
drive over to the address that Logan had provided her with.
“So what is it exactly that you're
doing?” Sam wondered and Max rolled her eyes. She was glad that she
had thought of the question that was sure to come up in their
conversation.
“There's a witness for an upcoming
trial,” she began her rehearsed story for her brother's benefit.
“He's in witness protection right now, but he's having second
thoughts about this trial. I'm not sure how he's been threatened or
what with. But even if the attorney treats him like a hostile
witness, he can't be compelled to actually talk. If he refuses, he'll
be hit with jail time for contempt, but the entire case would fall
apart because the whole thing is hinging on his testimony. So, we're
going in to try and give him some more reasons to go through with
this. Maybe remind him that jail isn't the safest place for him
either in the long run.”
“Woah, wait,” Sam's interest
perked up immediately. As she knew that it would have. “That's
not...”
“Sam!” she spoke sharply. “This
isn't some petty little thing...” she began and then had to rein
herself in. She was doing this for Theo. For his wife and child. It
had to be done, regardless of what Sam thought was right and well
within legal bounds. She wouldn't have bothered too much herself with
it, but when she had complained to Logan about interfering in this
case with the feds, he had told her what the case was. Knowing that
it was the dirtbags that had caused Theo's death, she had instantly
been on board with rescuing the witness from the hit that was
supposed to go down tonight. Not that her brother needed to know that
tidbit, hence her rehearsed story.
“He has information on the people
that were replacing prescription drugs with placebos” she
continued, trying to calm herself. “He hasn't been subpoenaed yet
and if he's asked if he has discussed this case prior to the trial,
he will naturally say yes, because he has talked. That's why the
lawyers want him testifying, because they know he has the info. But
he's a flight risk. In a big way. We need to persuade him in, finesse
him and the cops and lawyers don't have a good reputation for getting
that done.”
“Sounds like it's personal,” Sam
commented after a moment. And Max sighed, sagging a little.
“It is,” she confirmed. “It was
the stuff that the doctor's had Theo on. That's part of why I...”
“I got it,” Sam murmured
soothingly, immediately. “Okay, well, good luck with that. Call me
when you're done? Or whenever you're free. And don't... worry... if I
don't answer right away.”
“That's what voice mail is for,
right?” she teased, getting back on an even keel as quickly as she
could. Sam agreed and they hung up. Max glanced back out the window.
Even as far away from the boys as she was, she still knew that this
job in their hometown was going to prey a little on her mind. And not
for reasons that were good for the well-being of her heart.
*****
Dean glanced over at his younger
brother, sitting in the passenger seat. Sam was staring
contemplatively out the window, as he had been doing for most of the
trip. He was stiff and brooding. A normal sight really, but there was
more, much more to it this time. And while Dean was still reeling
inside from the revelation of where this job was and the coercion he
endured to be forced into handling this, he was more concerned with
what this would do to Sam.
His younger brother didn't have the
memories or the expectations that he would figure that Dean had. And
so, as such, Sam would figure that he would be the rock in this job,
there for Dean to lean on.
But Dean knew, he'd deal. He'd handle
and divert and compartmentalize, because that was what he did. He was
the elder brother, not the other way around. And yes, it was a given
that Dean relied on his family to have his back when they went into a
job, just as he had theirs. But he already knew what the push buttons
on this job were. Those were obvious. The one that had thrown him for
a loop was the revelation that Sam had been dreaming these things and
apparently, these dreams were coming true. And Dean was smart enough
to work out what that meant.
Sam had a two ton mega crap load to
deal with, over and above this jaunt back to the old home sweet hell.
Whatever problems Dean had were negligible. But he was also smart
enough to realize that at some point, Sam would be reaching his
breaking point and Dean had the feeling that it was close. And that
would be the time that Dean would need to need him. To distract Sam.
To give him something to distract him, to help him to hold on, to
make it through.
Dean was honest enough with himself to
know that he needed that too. And usually, it was Sam needing him
that helped him hold it together. And if it wasn't Sam, it was the
thought that John was out there somewhere, alone with no one backing
him up. Trusting Dad, but... And if that didn't work...
“So you didn't tell her about
your... dreams?” he questioned quietly, taking his eyes off the
road long enough for another glance at his brother. Sam, not moving
from his position, shook his head, the long mop of hair brushing
against the window.
“She'd just worry more,” Sam
sighed. “And she's dealing with enough right now.”
“Why?” he asked bluntly. He
couldn't imagine that there was anything other than her real family
that would upset Max to the point that it would outweigh Sam's...
whatever it was he had going on. “What's she doing?”
Sam seemed to be mulling something
over, but when he shifted upright a little, Dean held back a verbal
offer of relief. Sam was content to talk a little. That would help.
“I doubt you ever met him,” he began. “I know Max said that Dad
had. But her co-worker, Theo?”
The name was not familiar off the top
of his head, so Dean shook his head in the negative. Sam pursed his
lips, looking upset, but gamely went on. “Theo was Max's mentor of
sorts when she first started working at Jam Pony. She's the one that
got him and his family the apartment next to her and Kendra's.”
“And?” Dean shrugged. “What's
going on with them? Anything we should be concerned about?”
“No,” Sam answered shortly.
“Nothing like that. It's just that Theo got sick again. Something
he picked up when he was overseas, in the service.”
“What, like malaria?” Dean frowned
deeply. That was about the extent of what he could think of along
those lines of information. Sam shrugged.
“No one ever said exactly ywhat it
was,” he explained, gesturing with his hands a little. “Anyway,
he was treated for it, but every few years, it would crop up. The
last time he got sick? The medication didn't work. He died. Max was
devastated. When I saw the news later, I didn't even connect it until
Max just said...”
“Said what?” Dean demanded
sharply. Something was hurting her. It was a familiar ache raising in
his chest, different from when it was Sam or Dad... but very alive
and there all the same, even after all this time. He suspected that
even until his dying day, he would feel that.
“There
was a news report about a pharmaceutical company that had been
replacing medication for low income veterans with sugar pills,” Sam
explained. “They probably wouldn't have caught it, but some doctor
was suspicious and performed an autopsy. He
found that the drug he had prescribed for the vet wasn't present at
all in his system. When his family insisted that he'd been taking the
drug, they tested what he had left. They found it to be sugar or
something like that. So there was an investigation and a recall on
the drugs. Unfortunately, it called into question deaths of other
vets that were prescribed this drug. It was all traced back to a
pharmaceutical company located just outside of Seattle.”
“So what's this all got to do with
Max?” Dean wanted to know. He was familiar enough with drug company
screw ups. Or product recalls. It was on the news around the country
often enough that he'd often see something on television as he
flipped through the channels, or articles about it as he browsed
through the obituaries. Obviously an intentional screw job on drugs
was bad business but some people, some crooks just couldn't help
themselves. Blue collar, white collar, it was all crime in the end.
“She's going to talk to a potential
witness,” Sam supplied. “Try and get this person to come forward
willingly instead of having to forcibly subpoena them.”
Dean nodded slowly. If Max's friend
had been hurt, killed by this deceit, he could very well see her
position on this. “And are we suspecting that Cale got her involved
somehow?” he questioned astutely. “After all, sounds just like
the crap he'd pull her into, doesn't it?”
“I was thinking the same thing,”
Sam sighed, relaxing back against the car door, his elbow resting at
the base of the window, his head on his hand. “I mean, I know that
she's said that Cale tries to do good works, but they have
professionals for this. Yeah, it's personal for her, if this was what
happened with Theo. But I...”
“Sounds iffy, doesn't it?” Dean
concurred, his jaw tightening. One of these days, they were gonna
load up and haul ass to Seattle and check this guy out in person.
“A little,” Sam admitted. “On
the whole, it doesn't sound bad. And I think...”
“What?”
“That she volunteered the
information just to keep me from asking what she was really doing,”
Sam sighed, recognizing a gleam of suspicion mixed in with ire in his
brother's face. Not like he felt any different.
Dean smirked, the very moment that Sam
admitted that. “She did take that lesson to heart, didn't she?”
“The old bait and switch?” Sam
scoffed. “Yeah, it's a classic and even more to the point, a family
favorite, hmm? Kind of like right now?”
“Don't know what you're talking
about Sammy,” Dean shook his head lightly and gave an easy going
shrug.
“Or like how you call me by that
stupid nickname whenever you want to push my buttons so we don't have
to discuss what's really bothering you?” Sam suggested archly, but
Dean just threw a lazy grin at him.
“Or the classic 'let's dissect
Dean's psyche because Sammy isn't ready to deal yet either'?” he
tossed out at his brother and knew he'd hit a victory when his
brother averted his face with a slight flush effusing his skin.
“Two big words in one sentence,”
Sam retorted, a glimmer of a grin trying to break free. “Who are
you and what did you do with my brother?” he teased, the easy
familiarity of it allowing the tension to ease off some.
“It's still me,” Dean chuckled,
reveling in the simple feeling of it. Pushing the thought of dealing
with anything heavier than their usual brotherly back and forth until
the next day, he reached out and sneakily ruffled his brother's hair
before his hand was smacked away. “I was just saving the big guns,
kid.”
The eye roll and shake of his head
that Sam gave, made Dean feel immensely better. Even if it only
lasted until the next sigh and contemplative staring out the window
resumed. But these days, Dean would take it.
WiC~WiC~WiC
:Will you please put that damn thing
away and go to sleep!” Dean complained as he lay on the top of the
bed designated his in yet another rundown motel. They had stopped for
the night, since Dean's eyes were getting tired. That was all that he
would admit to. They had also noted some headlines at the last gas
station, a Mom and Pop store that Dean had wanted to look further
into. So far there had been nothing to pop out at them that screamed
it was their kind of gig. So Sam had put that research forcibly
aside, maintaining that they needed to deal with this Lawrence crap
and was looking into some other information. Dean knew that they had
to and they'd be gone again at first light. If he could have, Dean
would have kept driving, or let Sam drive. But with Sam's lack of
sleep the last few weeks, that was just as dangerous as the kid
driving drunk.
Sam was about to retort, but glanced
at the time on his laptop and blinking rapidly, stretched his arms
and back out, before starting to shut down the machine. “Sorry,”
he mumbled. “It's just interesting, this whole case.”
“Which whole case?” Dean grumbled
as he tried to get comfortable again, flopping onto his stomach and
thrusting his arms under the relatively flat pillow. Fluffing it up
slightly, he knew he should have known better than to ask.
“This class action suit against the
pharmaceutical company,” Sam replied as his fingers moved
rhythmically over the keyboard. “I think I've figured out why Max's
little story was bothering me.”
“Why zat?” Dean mumbled against
his bicep as he burrowed himself into comfort.
“Well,” Sam began, turning in his
seat to face his brother, “it's a class action suit against the
company, on behalf of the veteran's and their families that suffered
because allegedly sugar pills, or placebo's were sent out instead of
the drug.”
“I know what placebo's are dumb
ass,” Dean grunted, turning enough to give his brother an
approximation of an evil eye.
“Right,” Sam nodded once. “Now,
the suit alleges that it wasn't an accident, that it was deliberate.
There was noise about a witness that could completely support this
case.”
“But lemme guess, the guy
disappeared,” Dean sighed. It was a typical thing, he was sure. Not
like he'd never skipped out on something like that. School came to
mind immediately, when he could. Sure as hell would never volunteer
for jury duty, if they'd ever call him. Sam on the other hand... At
least his little brother had curbed that law-abiding tendency some
whatly.
“Yeah, the key witness,” Sam
enthused, packing the laptop into it's protective case. “Because
Dean, not only does this guy have the dirt on the deal, the rumor is,
is that his testimony implicates the Mayor himself.”
“Oh gasp no,” Dean snorted. “Not
the Mayor. Zoinks, the fate of the world hangs in the balance, Velma.
Better crack this case wide open.”
“Well, not the fate of the world,
no,” Sam grinned, even though he knew his brother couldn't see him,
shaking his head pitifully as Dean was. “But for Seattle, sure, and
this would be justice for all of the victims that suffered by the
mistake, if it was a mistake. Because from what I've read, if they
can produce this guy, it was deliberate. Apparently the real drug was
being sold on the black market and-!”
“Sarcasm Sam!” Dean retorted, a
little harshly. “Look it up brainiac.”
“I don't believe I need to,” Sam
replied calmly as he rose from the table. “I'm the one that
explained the concept to you. Remember? About a decade ago, and then
in high school, and last week...? Why, even this morning-!”
“Shut up and go to bed before I
sarcasm your ass out the window,” Dean growled. Sam's laughter
chased him as he ducked his head under the pillow now to try and
recapture the dreams that the incessant clicking of Sam's keyboard
had woken him from.
There was quiet for several minutes
while Sam gathered his clothes to sleep in and picking up his
essentials bag, moved to the bathroom to brush his teeth before he
retired. There was the rustle of movement as Sam returned, shutting
off the rest of the lights before climbing into his bed and getting
comfortable. Dean, his lips twisting slightly began counting down in
his head and just as he reached one, Sam piped up once more.
“But you know what I was thinking?”
he began as Dean rolled his eyes and didn't answer. “This witness?”
he went on. “Okay, so the guy apparently has ties to some bad guy
that was taking drugs for veterans, selling it on the black market,
doing all sorts of bad things. If he can implicate the Mayor, the
city of Seattle is going to see a hell of a scandal break loose. The
Mayor can be charged on several varieties of charges and nobody likes
a snitch, right?”
Dean was quiet, but that was no
deterrent to his brother. “So why is this guy who just doesn't feel
like testifying... why isn't he in protective custody? At the very
least? He can be compelled to testify. You know what I think?”
“No Sam, I don't,” Dean smiled
tightly at his brother, trying to rein in his disinterest and
irritation. “But I'm sure you'll tell me.”
“I think that Max made that stuff
up, because something else is going down about this guy,” Sam
rushed out. “I mean, it makes sense, right? The guy is probably in
hiding, not sitting in some motel room enjoying the hell out of his
life. He's probably got all the people he betrayed when he let slip
the information he has, gunning for him. Plus, if the Mayor truly is
corrupt, there's that angle. And I think Max is mixed up in the
middle of it.”
“You seriously spent three hours
putting together what I could have told you after your phone call
with her?” Dean gaped at his brother while Sam blinked slowly at
him.
“Well, I knew that too,” he
shrugged and then grinned. “I just wanted a little more information
on it before I busted her.”
Dean groaned and dropped his head back
down. “Why, why couldn't I have been an only child? Why?”
His brother's laughter lasted long
enough to turn to soft snores, both of which irritated the hell out
of the eldest Winchester offspring. But it was better than having to
yap about Max all night. His dreams already tormented him enough.
Though not quite as much, as it would turn out, Sam's did.
WiC~WiC~WiC
Dean had waited long enough to make
sure that Sam's laptop had a good charge on it. Of course he planned
on leaving it plugged in, but the questions Sam had been asking were
bothering him too. Of course, everything that this Cale character
roped Max into seemed questionable, at least on some level. And while
yes, they had to sit back and ostensibly trust her judgment, Dean was
quite sure that there would come a day when that man got Max in too
deep and she'd need their help. Whether she'd call for it or not...
well, Dean just wanted to be prepared.
And in the course of researching the
same things Sam had, Dean came to the same conclusions. This whole
deal with the trial and the witness that didn't want to testify was
extremely fishy. In fact, Dean was willing to bet good money that the
feds were trying to protect him and he probably had a number of hits
attached to his name. Now, if he could just discern who exactly the
witness was, because of course the name was withheld to protect the
person, he might be able to figure out just who it was. And why he
was so bothered by it all.
He was in the midst of researching
back several months through the Seattle headlines, when he noted that
Sam was becoming more agitated in his sleep. With a grumbling, half
pitying noise, he brought up another browser tab and nimbly, despite
his sleepy state, brought up a search engine and typed in a few key
search words that would bring a general amount of fruit cake sites.
Watching Sam out of the corner of his eye, he switched back to the
headlines of Seattle.
Reading between the lines, he could
see some of the things that had occurred that Sam told him that Max
had been involved in and he wasn't too happy about it. But despite
not being there and unable to see for themselves, Dean knew that they
had to trust for now that Max was all right. At least they had that.
John was a different matter altogether. They had absolutely no
information there. So there was that small blessing.
Dean continued to search until his
eyes were blurry and crossing occasionally. But on the up side, he
had a whole host of names that had bad connections in and around
Seattle. Some were marked as currently deceased, which could lend
credence to his whole searching for a case, cover story if Sam asked
in the morning. Hopefully the little geek wouldn't search himself for
the names listed and find the central point of interest. Dean would
of course, use the excuse that it was so that Sam could have an
excuse to go up to Seattle to legitimately check on their sister
should the need arise.
But when he realized that whatever
dreams chasing Sam through the night were enough to wake his brother,
Dean quietly shut down the browser to do with the Seattle stuff,
flipped over to a second sheet of paper in which he'd taken a few
notes and busied himself with his search for a new case, this time in
earnest.
Sam's quiet panic and desperation were
worrisome. Especially more so when he picked up the sketch of what
he'd been dreaming of again, to stare morosely at. Their old house in
Lawrence, Kansas.
Home.
The one place that he couldn't ever
really go to, because it really wasn't there anymore. Not in his
heart.
WiC~WiC~WiC
Max sat at the counter in Logan's
corner penthouse, wincing occasionally as he applied the antiseptic
to her wounds. She could have told him that it was totally
unnecessary, but he was persistent in some odd things. It actually,
felt kind of nice to have someone watching her back. Though it wasn't
precisely the someone she wanted. At least of the several choices
that she had, logically and emotionally. Yearning for her family and
she wasn't going to be choosy about which family she meant.
The news report about the bomb threat
at the courthouse, where they had been earlier, delivering Bruno
Anselmo to the trial, regardless of the death threats and hits taken
out on him, he had managed to give testimony that implicated the
Mayor heavily in several schemes and would most likely bring about a
political flurry and scandal the likes of which the city had not seen
since the days of prohibition. Max chuckled to herself.
“Well, I'm glad that Bruno chose to
do the right thing,” Logan sighed moderately. “Even though he
paid for it in the end.”
Max was saved from answering him by
way of her cell phone ringing. She had emptied her pockets of a
little bit of her belongings, since she'd had a little of the cash
left from what Logan had provided her with to take care of Bruno.
Which was only after the safe house he had set up for them had been
compromised by Bruno's stupidity. She was considering offering it
back to him, but really, she could use the money. She could always
use money.
She swiped up her cell phone and saw
that it was Sam. With a small eye roll, but seeing no reason not to
answer, she did so.
“Hey Sam,” she greeted cheerily.
“What's up?”
“Bruno Anselmo,” was her brother's
tired reply. Max winced again, partly from Logan pressing a little
too much at one of the scrapes and part from Sam sticking his
persistent nose in again.
“Aaaa-nd, what about him?” Max
wondered aloud with a drawl. She heard her brother's sigh.
“He was the witness you were going
to talk to, wasn't he?” Sam demanded. “Max, were you at the
courthouse... when he?”
“Got ganked?” she supplied for him
and heard his strangled gasp. “I was in the area, but I wasn't
there.”
“Okay,” her brother sighed after a
moment. And then let out a small laugh. “You can imagine what's
been going through our minds. Dean figured... he had a list, you
know?”
“A list?” she asked, her brows
pulling together as she tried to extemporize what he might be talking
about.
“Of all the possible witnesses,”
Sam explained, leadingly. “Anselmo was right at the top of the
list. Of course, we were wondering when you said you were going to
talk to a witness, because this case...”
“My case or your case?” Max bit at
her lip and glanced over her shoulder at Logan, who had pulled back
from applying butterfly bandages to her wound to blatantly listen in
to her conversation. “Sam, you're not making total sense here.
What's bothering you?”
“Several things,” he scoffed.
“Anselmo was the witness you went to talk to?”
“Yes, he was,” she confirmed,
thinking quickly how to spin it all.
“And this guy was majorly bad,”
Sam went on. “Just the allegations, let alone the convictions this
guy has had...”
“Which was why he had the hit out on
him,” she agreed, “which was why I wasn't there. Believe me, I
did not want to be around that scumbag any more than I had to.”
“But you still went to see him,”
Sam pressed.
“I did,” she agreed, not being
able to hide that fact that she had already told him herself. “He
needed a reason to testify,” she explained quickly, thinking of
what she had been about to say to Logan. “Look, Bruno knew he was a
dirt bag. He made no apologies for that. But he loved his daughter.
He told me, when I talked to him about it, that he wanted for his kid
to be able to have one example at least, where he did the right
thing. He wanted to be worthy of her love and trust. Regardless of
what it cost him. So he went ahead and testified.”
“And took a bullet in the gut for
it,” Sam spoke quietly. “That's...”
“The price he paid for his crimes,”
Max broke in. “It might not have been the right thing or justice,
but given what he was, his outlook on life, I think he'd been heading
there all along. But now, his daughter knows he knew right from
wrong, the people responsible for these crimes won't get away with it
and there will be justice for others,” she supplied. She heard
Logan chuckle behind her and she shifted in her seat to frown at him.
Sure, she was sorta channeling him and his blah blah, woof woof, but
sometimes that was the sort of stuff that Sam ate up.
“Okay,” Sam finally accepted.
“Just as long as you're okay and not mixed up in this anymore.”
“Not at all,” Max grinned. “I've
got other things to worry about.”
“Like
what?” Sam demanded with a small chuckle.
“Oh, just my balance, among other
things,” Max teased and then grunted as Logan went back to patching
her up. “I slipped getting into Logan's car this afternoon and
scraped my shoulder up.”
“Ow,” Sam sympathized, though he
certainly wasn't broken up about it. “So aside from talking to
Anselmo, has anything else been going on?”
“Nothing worth note,” Max sighed
and had to frown at Logan's disagreeing grunt. He poked at her back
and she spun slightly, slapping at his finger.
“What was that?” Sam wondered, his
voice full of suspicion.
“Argh,” Max groaned. “Logan was
putting a bandage on that scrape I mentioned and he poked it by
accident!” She glared at the man before her, using a few fingertips
to cover the phone. “Do you mind. I'm trying to convince my brother
that I'm fine and it doesn't seem to work if I'm screaming in pain.”
“I understand that Max,” Logan
smirked. “I lie to my family about what I get up to, all the time.”
“I told you Logan,” she began with
a sigh, but the squawk in her ear from her brother made her grunt and
spin around. “Sam, I'm fine, everything is fine, nothing has been
going on for you to worry about. It's just a scrape and I would be
even more fine if Logan would quit trying to douse it with iodine!”
Logan's laughter seemed to transmit
through the phone to Sam, as her brother asked, “is he really?”
“No Sam,” Logan called out loudly.
“I used hydrogen peroxide, antibiotic cream and some bandages.
She's just being a baby.”
“I know the feeling,” Sam laughed.
“Who do you think has to patch up Dean these days?”
“Oh you mean he isn't pulling the
'every thing's all good, I always limp because my knee twists
backwards naturally and my ribs are fine, that protrusion just means
I'm hungry. Bring on the burgers and pie and don't forget the
onions!' routine?” she teased loudly. Both the males, behind her
and on the phone were laughing.
“Exactly,” Sam guffawed and she
could swear she could see in her mind Sam laughing and pointing at
his brother while Dean did something inconsequential like clean his
gun or watch television, completely mystified about why he was being
laughed at, but his mind already whirling about how to turn the
attack around. The pang that hit her in the gut was more intense than
the earlier admittance she had felt and she had to blink quickly to
rid her eyes of the tears rapidly forming. With a frown, she latched
on to Sam's statement about patching his brother up.
“Okay, whoa,” she muttered. “What
exactly have you and Dean been doing, that he needed patching up?”
she wanted to know. “And where are you guys?”
“Uh,” Sam hesitated and Max pursed
her lips. Busted! “At the motel,” he tried gamely.
“In what city?” she asked in
precise measures. Now it was Sam's turn to wince.
“We're uh, we're actually in Kansas
City right now,” he told her with a cheer that was as false as
Normal's sense of goodwill to his employees.
“And where were you right before
Kansas City?” Max wanted to know, holding herself still. She knew
her American geography better than most teens and adults that lived
in the country, mostly because of her memory retention and from the
fact of driving all over America for nearly a decade with John and
the boys. She heard Dean in the background.
“Just tell her Sammy,” his brother
was prompting. “It wasn't that big a deal.”
There was a hesitation and finally Sam
admitted it. “We were in Lawrence. At the old house. But Dean's
right. It wasn't...”
“You boys wouldn't be telling me it
wasn't a big deal if it wasn't a big deal,” Max snarked. “I can
think off the top of my head three good reasons, separate and
distinct for all of you why it would be a big deal. Want me to start
listing them?” she didn't realize that her voice had risen, even as
she did come up off the stool. They had been dealing with something
supernatural at their old house? Oh lord...
Before her brother could speak, she
was changing her mind. “Look Sam, I'm at Logan's right now. Why
don't we finish this later?”
“Yeah. Yeah, that'd be fine,” Sam
agreed. Both seeming a little startled, they didn't bother with
their goodbyes and both hung up. With a slightly shuddering breath,
Max settled the phone gently on the counter, as if it were the only
breakable thing in her sphere. That was patently untrue, but her
fears, for herself, for her family, were shatteringly close this day.
She landed on the stool she'd been sitting on more than sat. It was
only a moment, feeling Logan's eyes boring into her back before he
spoke again.
“You didn't tell your brothers?”
he asked gently, hesitantly.
“Nothing to tell,” she grunted,
regardless of whether he was talking about being at the courthouse or
the unknown welcoming committee that Logan had saved her in the
parking garage from. The one that Bruno Anselmos, still a dirt bag to
the last, had sold out her secret to.
“Well they got you pretty good,”
he muttered as he applied something more to the slightly scorched
skin that resulted from a tazer burn. He must be referring to the 'no
pain' guys then.
“I need to get my ass kicked once in
a while,” she retorted flippantly. “Just to keep me real,” she
added. Though how in the hell they had managed it was a mystery that
had been preying on part of her mind since Bruno's admission that
they had been looking for her and that he had led her right to them.
What they wanted, what they were capable of. It wasn't something
she'd let go. She knew she shouldn't dwell on her weaknesses. But in
this world of ordinary people that ignored the truths around them,
she had let her defenses drop. And it would get her killed. She heard
Logan sigh.
“These guys aren't going to go
away,” he reminded her.
“Kinda pesky like that,” she
scoffed, as her skin puckered over in goose bumps. Almost, she could
believe, that it was in response to the cold fluid he was swiping
over her skin. But she knew better.
“Max...” he began, whatever logic
he was calling upon unnecessary at this juncture.
She turned her head slightly, her lips
trembling now too. “You don't have to tell me to be afraid. I'm
already there.”
WiC~WiC~WiC
“What'd she say?” Dean asked
tiredly from his position, hunched over Sam's computer. He was
engaged already in another search, thinking he might have a lead.
“We'll talk again later,” Sam
replied tiredly, tossing the phone down to the table. “She's over
at Cale's, she wasn't at the courthouse, and she certainly doesn't
think being in Lawrence was no big deal.”
Dean, having meant what he had said,
that it wasn't a big deal, meant that in a certain way. In other ways
it was huge, but there was nothing that Max or their father or
anyone, even themselves could do about it. Taking what Missouri
Mosley had said about it, the spirit of their mother had used up
whatever ghostly spirit energy she had to destroy that poltergeist.
In Dean's mind, if things had to be that way, then what better way to
go all the way out, than taking out some evil son of a bitch. They'd
deal whichever way they could. And all the better that Sam have his
emo conversation with Max, than with him as he'd been trying off and
on halfheartedly since they'd left Lawrence. And before his brother
could say anything, Dean spun the computer around to show his brother
the headlines he'd been looking at.
Looks like he'd just found their next
case.
WiC~WiC~WiC
“Come on Max!” Sam grunted,
gripping the cell phone tighter than usual. “Pick up!”
He'd
already talked to Cindy to find out the
startling development that Kendra had moved out several weeks back,
shacking up with a divorced cop and that Cindy, having a run of bad
luck was evicted from her apartment for reasons she wouldn't speak of
and was in the process of moving in with Max. Hence why she was
answering the phone at the apartment. She had informed Sam that Max
had gone to Logan's for dinner that evening, but Sam hadn't really
wanted to talk to the man. Social pleasantries aside, he still didn't
really like the guy.
But since his sister wouldn't answer
her cell phone, there seemed little choice. He knew Dean would kill
him for calling her. Just as he knew that Max would kill him for not
calling about this. Shutting the incessant ringing off for the
moment, Sam glared at the antiseptic scented corridors of the
hospital, reliving for just a moment, the nightmare of getting Dean
to the hospital, the tests, the doctor's declaration and Dean... Dean
just accepting it.
Well, he might be talking a big game,
but Sam knew how he would feel in his brother's shoes and there was
no way in hell he was going to just sit back and let things unfold as
the doctor had predicted. Squaring his shoulders, Sam brought up his
telephone number directory and found Logan Cale's home phone number,
pressing his thumb against the button before he changed his mind and
tried her cell once more.
The man answered immediately. “Hello?”
he asked, sounding slightly winded.
“Logan?” Sam asked, “this is
Sam. Max's brother,” he prompted, though he didn't think it quite
necessary.
“Sam?” Logan sounded puzzled. “Is
everything all right?”
“Um, no not really,” Sam grunted.
From the hints that Cindy had been dropping about Max's evening
plans, Sam was sure that interruptions would not be welcome, but this
situation was beyond that. “I need to talk to Max. I tried her cell
but-!”
“She's not here,” Logan
interrupted. “Sorry. Her broth- sorry, her other brother Zack
called. He needed help with something, so she left, a while ago now.”
“Zack!” Sam's eyes went wide.
Well, there was another piece of news, a good piece, but that
certainly didn't help him. Last they had heard, Zack's flight had
gone down over some mountains and there had been no survivors listed.
Max had insisted that she was sure Zack was well, and now it seemed
as if her hunch had paid off. Too bad she couldn't simply say the
same about Dean and have it be true. That cool reminder made him
shake off the momentary wonder about Max's other family. “Look,
something has happened here and I need to talk to Max as soon as
possible. If you hear from her, could you please, please tell her to
call me immediately?”
“Of course,” Logan promised,
curiosity coloring his voice. There was some hesitation before he
asked, “is everything... Is there anything I can do?”
'Give me the name of something that
will save my brother from the electrocution he received, saving kids
from a monster,' was his immediate thought, but Sam quelled that
immediately. Logan was completely in the dark about the supernatural,
he knew that. And the situation would take too long to explain and he
had more calls to make. “No, but thank you,” he offered
automatically. “Please, just let Max know.”
“Of course,” Logan repeated. “Take
care Sam.”
“You too,” Sam murmured before
pulling the phone away to hang up. He was already punching in the
next number on his mental list.
WiC~WiC~WiC
“So what'd ya get for me?” Dean
asked as Sam re-entered the hospital room. He had been checking in on
his brother in between frantic phone calls that evening. And when the
nurse on duty had confirmed for Dean that he was not required to eat
specifically within the dietary parameters that hospital guidelines
supplied their cafeteria with, had sent Sam to get him a burger. Sam,
treading the line between wanting his brother to do everything
possible to care for himself and yet indulge his hurt brother, had
given in.
“Burger with the works, fries and a
shake,” he sighed as he moved all the way into the room, laying the
bag containing Dean's meal on his brother's lap gently, almost as if
any touch would damage him further.
“Excellent,” Dean clapped his
hands then rubbed them together. The television and remote were
forgotten for the moment as he reached for the bag. Sam set the shake
on the night table beside the bed and reached for the rolling table
as Dean was already unwrapping the burger. “Did you remember my
pie?”
“Yeah Dean,” he rolled his eyes.
“There's cherry and apple, your choice.”
“Both!” was the answer and he
couldn't help but chuckle. He positioned the table over his brother
and snagged the bag back over his brother's pained squawk, replacing
it on the table so his brother could reach it, before he turned to
his own meal. He seated himself in the solid chair, uncomfortable as
usual. Reaching into his bag that had a very similar meal to his
brother's, he glanced up at the television mounted in the corner that
had been muted for the moment, at his return.
“Good thing I got a couple of each
then,” Sam retorted, well aware of his brother's dietary abuse.
“What are we watching?”
“Whatever was on,” Dean shrugged
and reached with his free hand for the remote once more. “Stupid
channel list is all messed up,” he grumbled as he ate.
“Well, there's always the discovery
channel,” Sam teased, though it was only half-hearted, though the
annoyed glare his brother gave him wasn't. He pretended interest in
his own meal as Dean continued to desultorily surf through the
channels, trying to find something interesting. Unfortunately, just
as he settled on an old rerun of Bewitched, the television seemed to
lose it's signal.
“Oh for cryin' out loud!” Dean
mumbled, picking up the remote once more. The screen cleared once
more as static was heard and then, instead of the programmed show,
there was a strange image and Sam sucked in a startled breath,
choking slightly on his bite of food.
“Do not attempt to adjust your set,”
a voice announced from the television. “This is a streaming freedom
video bulletin.”
“What the hell?” Dean demanded,
though whether of the television or his brother was unclear.
“This cable hack cannot be traced
and it cannot be stopped and it is the only free voice left in this
city,” the voice continued. Sam grabbed for his drink and took in
several gulps to stem a coughing fit. “This is a message to those
known as X5. You've been compromised. You're in danger. You know what
to do.”
“What is this garbage?” Dean
grunted, flipping the channel to find that it was the same on each
station, his eyes going wide.
“Eyes only,” Sam coughed out.
Speaking so soon didn't help and he gently patted at his sternum with
the heel of his hand.
“... peat, you've been compromised,”
the voice continued. “You know what to do.”
“That cable hack program that comes
out of Seattle,” Sam explained, once his throat was clear. “Max
and her friends watch it. But it's never...”
“This message will repeat every
hour, on the hour, until each of you has checked in,” the voice
announced and then with another brief flare of static, the hack was
gone and whatever it was that Dean had flipped to had returned. He
cautiously backtracked to “Bewitched” to see Darrin speaking to
Samantha. Dean quickly muted it and turned to his brother.
“Damn!” he grinned. “That guy
just hacked every freakin' channel!” his voice was full of amused
awe. Trust Dean to be impressed with a feat like that, though when
one thought about it, it was a pretty amazing trick. Of course, Sam
would be more impressed if the guy managed to slip through and do it
again as the voice had promised... every hour...
“Looks like it,” Sam agreed with a
nod. He took another sip of his drink, watching the cogs in his
brother's head whirring. “And I have no clue how he'd even go about
doing that.”
“Probably hijacked a satellite or
something,” Dean grinned, his eyes glowing with the sneaky
appreciation for the stunt that had just been pulled off. “FCC is
probably pissed as hell.”
“Probably,” Sam agreed, to both or
either. He really did have other more important things to think
about. Namely, how to save his brother.
“And man, whoever these X... what
were they?” he muttered. “Ah X5's? What the hell is up with that?
Must be...” Dean trailed off as he realized that his brother wasn't
paying attention at all. He shook his head and turned back to his
food. And television. Whoever these X5's were that got a small time
cable show to pull off a national prank like hacking the countries'
television stations, they must be some major players in something.
And Sam had said that Eyes Only, this guy was out of Seattle. Or at
least people believed so, since that was were it must be normally
broadcast.
Many things were whirling through
Dean's mind. This puzzle was just a welcome diversion from it all.
But one thing he really wondered, all that he would allow himself to
think on now, “what the hell is an X5?” he murmured to himself.
