AN: Hello! Quick note, this is a sequel to Soldiers and Devils, so I recommend reading that first if you haven't already. The events here take place 5 years after the conclusion of that story, and Elizabeth and Dean have been fugitives from the south for that whole time, looking for information on Olivia and Sam. Enjoy!
She was pregnant. Elizabeth was pregnant. She was pregnant with his child and they had gone rogue from the army and would be court marshaled if they went back.
Dean rarely felt terror but he did now and it was all encompassing. Under different circumstances he would have been ecstatic, would have rushed to see Elizabeth and revel in how happy they were. Now, what had they done? He was putting their child in danger and it amazed him how quickly and strongly he felt about protecting something he had just found out about. Now here they were, smack dab in a Northern hospital under aliases and they would have to run. What could they do?
He walked into the hospital room and saw Elizabeth on the bed. The cut on her side was bandaged up and her ribs were splinted. Now he understood the reaction she had given him after the fall, telling him they had to go to the hospital instead of letting him patch it up himself. Elizabeth saw him and smiled.
"Hey." She said wincing a little as she stood up.
"You don't have to do that." Dean said. That gave him away. Elizabeth's smile faltered.
"The doctor told you?" She asked and Dean nodded.
"How long have you known?" He asked,
"Just a few days. I bought a pregnancy test when I went to get us food." Elizabeth said.
"Why didn't you tell me?" Dean said and his voice showed some hurt.
"I wanted to, Dean. I was trying to find the right time to tell you and I was going to tell you tonight when we got to another motel. I just wanted us to have a few hours of quiet to talk." Elizabeth felt tears form in her eyes, baby emotions.
"I'm not angry." Dean said moving to stand in front of her. "Honestly, despite everything, I am so happy."
"You are?" Elizabeth said. Dean leaned down and kissed her, trying to pour every amount of how he felt into the kiss. Elizabeth returned it, they could do this; whatever this was supposed to be.
"Well, then let's talk." Elizabeth said as they broke apart. Dean nodded.
They began to plan and Dean made a call.
"Dean." Benny answered.
"I'll send you my coordinates, and I want you to send soldiers over. I'm turning us in. We're joining the North." Dean said. Elizabeth was holding his hand.
"Are you crazy man?" He heard Benny say. "What makes you think they are going to listen?"
"Give me over to Sam." Dean said, "I have to do this."
"You're going to get yourself killed." Benny told him,
"No. I won't." Dean replied.
Dean hung up the phone and texted Benny the coordinates.
"Now we wait." Elizabeth said her hand going over her stomach.
"If anything goes wrong, run." Dean said. "That's an order."
It was half an hour later when people could be heard moving out of the way as heavy boots could be heard through the halls. Sam entered the room, almost seeming too large.
"Sammy." Dean said.
"Check him and her." Sam ordered and Dean and Elizabeth were patted down as Dean had his knife, gun and other knife removed.
"Why are you doing this?" Sam asked.
"You took Olivia and her baby, the South's government is corrupt from the inside out, Elizabeth and I have decided to leave. We are joining the North." Dean said.
Sam cocked his head to the side, appraising Dean and Elizabeth.
"You're going to have to prove that." He said and he smiled.
"Fine." Dean agreed. "Can we just get out of this place? You know I hate hospitals."
Elizabeth was quiet, letting Dean speak for them figuring he knew his brother better than she did. Now however, Sam looked at her. "And what about you?" He asked with a frown.
"I said we, didn't I?" Dean interrupted and one of the men kicked his knee out dropping him to the ground with a grunt.
Sam ignored his brother, focusing on her instead. "I want to hear it from you." He looked down at her and Elizabeth refused to give him the satisfaction of breaking the stare as she answered. "He said we, didn't he?"
One corner of Sam's mouth twitched up for a moment and then he stepped forward grabbing her chin sharply in his hand tilting her head back further. "Just because you were the biggest bully in your sandbox don't think you get any brownie points with me, sweetheart. I'm the biggest bully around here, you got it?"
"Got it." Elizabeth replied, and he let go.
"Cuff them both and get them out to the transport." Sam ordered and left the room.
Dean was hauled to his feet roughly, and both had their hands shackled behind them.
"So much for a family reunion," Dean muttered, and the same man shoved him forward. Dean spun on his heel facing the man. "You got a problem with me man?" He asked.
The soldier flipped up the visor on his helmet and Dean's face contorted in horror for a split second before regaining the impassiveness. Alastair. "Hey there, freckles." He spoke with an odd cadence to his voice, and a constant condescending tone. "Miss me?"
He hadn't accounted for this. Alastair was the rare breed of soldier that didn't just carry out torture and interrogations. He genuinely enjoyed them. Even Sam didn't seem so horrible in comparison to this monster of a man, but that was the point. Dean remembered from his few years as a Northern soldier that Alastair was kept out of the press, never mentioned publicly. This gave them a secret advantage over the South. And Dean would know. Alastair had trained both him and Sam in their early years.
He had no way to communicate to Elizabeth that the plan had hit a hitch. How could he have expected Alastair to be here? Of all places? Serving under Sam? Things could get pretty dicey from here.
They were moved to a facility in an abandoned warehouse district and soldiers kept a firm hold on both of their arms as they walked in. The place looked like it hadn't been used since the economic downturn that started the whole conflict. In fact the only things that seemed new were a few tables set up to one side with computers and recording equipment on them. Dean was made to sit in one of the chairs in the room and expected Elizabeth to be led to the other, but instead the soldiers walking her kept moving toward a door that led to another room.
"Where are you taking her?" Dean asked sharply, trying to stand again, but he was pushed back down and this time cuffed to the chair.
"Don't worry freckles, as long as you do what you're told she's fine." Alastair said, pulling a pocket knife out of his uniform and flipping it playfully in his hand. "Long time no see, Dean. How are you?"
The door closed behind Elizabeth and Dean let his head slump back a little. The main door to the warehouse opened again and all the soldiers snapped to attention. Dean didn't have to look up to know who had entered.
"Dean," Sam greeted coming into his field of view.
"I swear, Sam, if you hurt her, the deal is off." Dean warned.
"Hurt her?" Sam looked offended at the thought. "Why would I waste such a wonderful asset? Besides, I need her, Dean. Look at yourself. Are you sure you're really a soldier?" He tutted under his breath. "So worked up over one little teammate."
"Sam, you have what you want. Test me. Interrogate me. Do whatever you feel you have to. Your beef is with me, not her." Dean tried to reason with his brother.
"We'll see." Sam turned and headed towards the room Elizabeth was in, ignoring Dean's short lived shouts after him. He opened the door and relieved the soldier standing guard next to it. Elizabeth was seated at a table with one of her hands bound to a metal bar around the rim. She sat with her spine rigid and eyes cast downward as he entered.
"You really messed up you know." Sam opened, pulling out the chair across the table and sitting. He leaned it back on two of its legs lifting his long legs to cross his ankles on the corner of the table.
Elizabeth looked up but didn't speak.
"Cashing in with Dean I mean. He's a time bomb. I would know," He tapped his own head. "We're the same you know. He's just a bit slower on the uptake than I was. Call it his rebellious period I guess."
"You're not the same." Elizabeth argued shaking a loose strand of hair out of her face.
"Oh? And how would you know?"
"You're a monster. Dean is a hero." Elizabeth replied. She felt dirty and exhausted and her ribs hurt, but she ignored all that. "You share some DNA. That's all."
Sam chuckled darkly. "Wow, my big brother sure has you fooled, doesn't he?" He abruptly took his feet down and straightened the chair leaning his hulking frame over the table. "A hero, huh? Did he tell you what his job was when he was with us?"
Elizabeth refused to answer, hoping that her face didn't betray her curiosity. Dean rarely talked about his few years before he defected to the South.
"Guess not. Well I have news for you, sweetheart: Dean isn't the hero you make him out to be. He was an interrogator for our side back in the day. I'm pretty sure you're up on what that means, right?"
"Torture." Elizabeth spat out. "To you it's code for torture."
"Very good. Someone's been doing her homework." Sam grinned,
"Why are you telling me this? It doesn't matter!" She argued.
"It matters. You'll see. Now I need you to do something for me, sweetheart." Sam stood and came around the table pulling something out of his pocket. Elizabeth flinched away when she saw the glint of a knife. "Scream."
Back out in the main area Alastair directed for Dean to stand up, and when he refused to comply he was simply hauled to his feet. He resisted as much as he could, trying to just be dead weight, but the number of soldiers dragging him around made it inevitable they would get him where they wanted him. So he found himself with his bound wrists suspended from a chain over his head pulled just tight enough that his boots were barely scraping the floor. All the weight was on his shoulder joints and he knew before too long he'd be in excruciating pain.
Alastair studied him thoughtfully. "It's a shame really Dean, you had so much potential." Someone handed him a coil of rope, and it wasn't until he griped the handle and snapped it in the air that Dean realized what the thing truly was.
He clenched his teeth and his eyes widened a bit, but outwardly Dean refused to show his feelings. "Not feeling chatty today huh freckles?" Alastair resorted to the old nickname to bite at Dean, and it worked.
He heard the snap of the whip for the second time barely a moment before a flash of blinding pain bloomed across his back. A gasp and then a few short sharp breaths were all Alastair got out of him.
"That one was a warning freckles. In case you forgot what happens when I get angry." He moved around so he was in front of Dean again. "So here's the deal. You said you're one of us. Truly, I believe you. But one Sam Winchester seems to have trouble trusting his own brother, I can't imagine why. I do think there's a way you can convince him though." He nudged at Dean's knee with the toe of his boot causing him to rock a little and spin slowly, straining his shoulders further.
"Ahh," Dean let out the first acknowledgment of his pain, "Really," He said breathlessly, "If he doesn't trust me that sounds like a personal problem." He started to laugh, but it made him shake more and he stopped quickly.
Another snap and another line of white hot pain flashed across him. A horse shout left his body without his permission.
"I'd listen up if I were you freckles. See we all know you're really still one of us under all that bravado. You miss it. You miss all the blood, and the screams. I bet they never let you near interrogations down South, much too dangerous. It's a shame really that they wouldn't let you use the best skillset you have. I can't take all the credit of course, but I do like to think I had a part in molding you boys into men." Alastair liked to hear himself talk, and with a captive audience he just kept going and going. "Now let's be frank here freckles, I'm trying to help you if you'll let me. Now Sam, he doesn't trust you, but he really doesn't trust your little love bird in there."
As if on cue a chillingly familiar scream rang through the warehouse, echoing off all the empty walls.
Dean's head snapped up "Elizabeth!" He twisted in the restraints. "Leave her alone! Swear to God I'll kill anyone who touches her!"
The first scream had barely stopped echoing when it was followed by another, higher pitched one.
"Stop it!" Dean shouted trying in vain to free himself. God if anything happened to her he'd never forgive himself. And the baby, please, just keep them both safe he prayed silently.
"If you would just listen to me freckles you'd already know how to make it all stop." Alastair continued. "So as I was saying, Sam doesn't trust Elizabeth as far as he can throw her, which while it might be farther than most people, ain't cutting it. But I think I know how to kill two birds with one stone,"
"Just tell me you son of a bitch." Dean rasped fighting to keep calm. The screams had stopped for now.
"It's simple really, someone needs to go in there and find out what she knows. Who better than the prodigal son returned to us at last?" Alastair grinned and flicked his wrist softly enough that the whip danced in the air instead of cracking.
"No." Dean flat out refused. "I won't hurt her."
"Shame." Alastair brought his hand up and cracked the whip three times in quick succession all three hitting Dean in the shoulder blades that were already on fire. The second stroke cut through the back of his uniform jacket and shirt, leaving his bare skin exposed to the lash the third time.
He screamed. And as the sound died he heard Elizabeth echo the sound from behind the closed door.
"You know how to make it stop freckles." Alastair shrugged bringing the whip down once again, tearing a new slash in his clothes. Each lash had him tense up and then simply hang like dead weight, his joints were screaming, and his back was on fire.
His mind refused to accept that the screams of his wife carrying their baby were really happening and as the whip cut through the bare skin on his back again he gasped out, "Ok! For the love of God just stop! I'll do it!"
Alastair dropped the whip to the ground and came up close to look him in the eye. "Good choice freckles."
The chain was lowered until his feet were flat on the ground. He swayed a little as the weight of his own body was too much for his exhausted muscles, and when the pressure on his shoulders was lifted his muscles screamed in protest, but he was able to slowly lower his arms to his sides and breathe deeply a few times to help the pain subside.
Alastair held out a standard issue black army knife that folded into its handle. Dean's hand was shaking a little more than he'd like it too as he took it. He couldn't tell if it was muscle fatigue or fear.
"One more thing freckles." Alastair pointed to the recording set up off to the side. "We have eyes and ears in that room. Just in case you had anything planned, know that this was just a taste of what I'd like to do to your little angel if I get a crack at her."
As he wearily nodded and turned to cross to the door, it opened and Sam exited towards him. There was a smudge of blood on his right hand. Elizabeth's blood. Dean was livid, but forced himself to remember his aim. He walked past Sam, who grabbed his shoulder and muttered under his breath. "If you say one word to her outside interrogation parameters, I'll shoot her in front of you. Clear?"
Dean clenched his fists so hard his knuckles turned white. "Crystal."
Sam strode on and settled at one of the chairs in front of the recording set up.
Dean forced himself to breathe; he knew how to do this. He could make it look good and avoid serious injury. If only he could make her see how much he didn't want to do this.