Title: ceteris paribus

Chapter: I. Out of the Forest

Fandom: "Supernatural"/"Dark Angel" crossover

Disclaimer: if you recognize them? They ain't mine. I wrote this because school ain't nearly interesting enough.

Warnings: spoilers for all of "Supernatural" and "Dark Angel." AU for "Dark Angel."

Pairings: Dean/Sarah

Rating: R

Wordcount: 2290

Notes: I'm sick. And twisted. And obsessed. Forgive me.

More notes: ceteris paribus is Latin and means all else remains the same.

Notes cubed: more coming, soon as I've typed it up. Longer. By a lot.

Summary: Some things never change, no matter what else does.

At first, Ben loved the outside. Beyond the walls of Manticore, tasting freedom for the first time—it was amazing. He didn't mind the biting cold; he didn't even really notice it. He walked for miles that night and the following day, separated from the others; he had no idea who else survived the escape and stayed free.

He was picked up by a trucker, though he didn't know it at the time. The man was old, like Lydecker—and that thought made Ben snarl. He crouched, prepared to fight or run, but the man held out his hands and spoke softly. He knelt in the snow, a good five feet away, and said, "My name's Michael Blake; I just want to get you out of the cold—it's 'sposed to dip into the teens tonight."

Ben followed Michael's movements with his eyes, refusing to look away. He was tired, exhausted by the escape and the trek, by the constant looking over his shoulder. Michael kept talking, and his voice soothed Ben, calmed him. Slowly Ben straightened from his crouch and Michael rose to his feet.

"What's your name?" he asked and Ben stared up at him, studied him, assessed him.

"Ben," he finally answered.

Michael settled Ben shotgun, wrapped him in blankets, asked if he were hungry. Michael didn't ask what he was doing outside in the snow, why he froze any time Michael got too close, why he flinched every time they passed another car.

"I have a sister in Phoenix," Michael said, offering Ben a to-go cup of hot chocolate, something Ben'd never had before. He slowly sipped it, feeling the warmth spread through him, from his chest to his toes and fingers. He sighed in contentment and listened to Michael's words. "Her name is Sarah. She's actually my half-sister; we have the same father. He left my mom when I was fourteen and married hers. He's dead now; so're both our moms. Sarah's married but she doesn't have any kids. Her husband—Dean's his name—isn't around much, but he's good to her." Ben's eyes slipped closed and he felt Michael gently take the cup from his grip. "It's warm in Phoenix. I figure we can rest there, decide what to do."

Ben forced open his eyes and looked at Michael, who met his gaze. "Please don't send me back," he begged, too tired to do anything else, and finally he slept.

-

When he woke, Michael told him they were a few miles from the Wyoming state line. "I called Sarah; she's gotten you some clothes, prepared one of the guestrooms." Michael held out a bottle of water and some sandwich-thing in a yellow wrapper. Ben took the water but eyed the sandwich with distrust.

"It's a fish burger," Michael said, setting it beside him on the seat and starting the truck. "It doesn't look like much, but it's good." Michael smiled at him and turned back to driving, keeping up a steady stream of words. Ben listened, committing them to memory, and covertly watched the 'fish burger.' Finally, he realized he was too hungry, so he reached out and snatched it up, unwrapped it. He turned the sandwich over in his hands, looking at it from every angle, and then bit a corner off. He paused after chewing for a moment and turned wide eyes on Michael. "'s'good," he said in wonder and then tore into the rest of it.

Michael nodded and smiled.

-

It took them a couple of weeks to get to Phoenix. Michael told him they were going slow on purpose, so as to not catch attention. "There's something off about you," Michael said quietly, handing Ben a bundle of clothes he'd bought at Wal-mart, their third night together. "The way you move—not like any kid I've ever seen."
Ben looked at Michael with wide eyes, wondering what would come next. Michael was the one kind adult he'd ever known, and if Michael turned—

"Get some sleep," Michael said, nodding to the bed closest to the bathroom. "We'll talk more tomorrow."

The next morning, Michael sat Ben down on the foot of the bed and asked point blank what he was. And Ben told him the truth, couldn't think of anything else to say. Michael listened and nodded and thanked Ben for his honesty.

And then they were back on the road.

-

They left the giant truck at a lot on the edge of town. Ben didn't ask, but Michael said, "Distribution center" like it meant something anyway. There was a car and he opened the passenger door for Ben, so Ben got in.

"Sarah's husband just got back today," Michael told him, slowly driving down a residential street. Ben looked at everything in awe; after the starkness of Manticore, outside was beautiful. He couldn't get enough of the color, of the sound. "Sarah told him that you're a friend's son. We're going to stay there for a few nights."

Michael pulled up a driveway and put the car in park, took out the key. "Look at me, Ben," he said softly. Ben shifted his whole body, focused entirely on Michael. "Sarah won't care that you're not a normal boy, but Dean—people who are different make him nervous."

He paused and Ben repeated, "Different?"

Michael nodded. "From what I know of Dean's childhood, it was somethin' like yours. I'm not sayin' he's a threat—he loves Sarah an'll follow her wishes. And he's got a softspot for kids. But just be on guard, okay?"

Ben nodded, weighing Michael's words. He followed Michael to the front door and waited slightly behind him, nervous—he thought that might be the right term—for the first time ever. His stomach hurt, felt knotted, and a pressure built behind his eyes. Michael looked over his shoulder and smiled. "It'll be fine, Ben," he assured. "Promise." Ben stepped forward and grabbed Michael's shirt, clenching the cloth with both fists.

Michael pushed a button next to the door and Ben heard ringing throughout the house. Then he heard a male voice, footsteps, and saw through the glass a man walking to the door, opening it.

"Michael," the man said with a nod and focused on Ben. His eyes widened and he stepped back. "C'mon in," he welcomed, calling over his shoulder, "Sarah! They're here." He turned back to Michael. "I'm just here for the day; I'll be gone by dusk. So, not to be inhospitable, but…" His voice trailed off and Michael nodded.

"Dean, I know the way to the den," he chuckled. Dean smiled and, with one last look at Ben, vanished back into the house.

"Michael!" a female voice exclaimed. "It's been too long." Ben watched as a woman with shiny dark hair and kind green eyes hugged Michael. He wondered with longing if that's how all families acted.

"Sarah," Michael said, pulling back from the embrace, "this is Ben." He put a hand on Ben's shoulder.

With a kind smile Sarah dropped to her knees and held out a hand. "It's good to meet you, Ben," she told him.

Ben glanced up at Michael, who nodded encouragingly, so Ben reached out and gently gripped her hands. "Likewise, ma'am," he replied softly.

"Ben's tired, Sarah," Michael said. "How about we show him to his room and let him rest?"

Sarah nodded and straightened. "Good idea, Mike. You remember the way?" Michael nodded. "Good. I'll be fixing lunch in the kitchen."

Ben followed Michael through the sprawling house, memorizing the way. Michael told him, "Rest for awhile. When you're ready, come to the kitchen." He ruffled Ben's hair, still short but steadily growing out. "You're safe here, Ben. Trust me."

Ben didn't say anything, but Michael gazed long at his face and seemed to like what he saw.

-

Ben never meant to fall asleep, but when he woke the Pulse had happened and the world gone mad.

He was instantly awake when he heard Sarah scream. Then gunfire. He rushed through the house and saw in a single glance Michael barricading the front door, Sarah barricading the den windows, and Dean arming himself with guns from a cabinet.

"Where's Sam?" Sarah demanded.

Dean said, "On the way. He's fine; five minutes, tops."

"And you know that, how?" Michael asked, breathless.

"He's my brother," Dean explained, like that was all the information necessary. "He's Sam."

Then Dean caught sight of Ben and asked, "You ever handled a gun before?"

-

Sarah and Michael were against Ben joining the fight, even though Michael knew almost exactly what Ben was capable of. Dean, however, overruled them after he saw Ben in action. A few members of the mob taking the streets of Phoenix forced their way in and Ben tore into them, killing three and wounding four. Dean joined the fray and Ben danced around him, always being sure to avoid hitting the man with eyes identical to his own.

After, when Dean had dragged the bodies away and restrained the living ones, he looked Ben in the eyes, kneeling in front of him, and questioned gently, "What are you?"

"Don't send me back," Ben pled.

Dean reached out and turned Ben's head either direction, finally noticing the bar code barely hidden by the turtleneck Michael had given him. "Ben," he said, tracing the mark with a feathersoft touch, "swear you won't turn on us."

Ben looked past Dean to Sarah and Michael, standing shoulder to shoulder. "You're a family?" he whispered, unable to keep the wistfulness from his voice.

"Yeah," Dean answered. "We are."

Ben heard a noise on the other side of the house and jerked his head in that direction.

"That's Sam," Dean said. And he grabbed Ben's hand, looked him hard in the eye. "Family is something you make where you can. Once you have it, you never leave it behind. Family isn't about blood kin—it's the people you trust, the people you believe in, the people you love. Can I count on you, Ben?"

Sarah said something about him being a child and Michael shushed her. Ben, unable to look away from Dean's hazel eyes, swore, "Yes."

Dean nodded.

-

A few months after the Pulse, Ben woke from a nightmare to Dean running his fingers through Ben's hair. At first Ben was frightened, flinching away, but Dean pulled back and spoke. He told Ben about his childhood, about Sam as a boy, about their parents. He told Ben about his first hunt, his first kill. He told Ben about the nameless guy in Tulsa when he was seventeen and how the knife slid between the guy's ribs easier than breathing. He told Ben about Jessica and his dad's deal with her killer, and how he should have died years ago but people kept taking his place.

After Dean fell silent, Ben realized he'd shifted closer without noticing, that he was barely a breath away. He knew that Dean had given him a great confidence, a great trust—and he still didn't fully understand humans or their ways, but he wanted Dean to know, he needed Dean to know—so, quietly he began. He started with the first thing he remembered and went from there, telling Dean about Manticore, about Zack and Max, about the nomlie they killed, about the escape. He told Dean about the cat DNA, about the speed and the strength and how sometimes he could barely pull himself from the edge of killing. For the first time since Manticore, Ben mentioned the Blue Lady, told someone about the goddess he created and worshipped, the goddess who failed him.

Dean listened quietly, letting Ben meander from subject to subject. He didn't interrupt or make a sound, and Ben willingly spilled everything. Once Ben ran out of words, sun peeking over the horizon outside, Dean told him that the Lady had protected him, loved him, insured Michael found him that day in the snow. "Your Lady, Ben," Dean whispered, "she brought you to us. But now me and Sammy, we're watching over you. So you can let her go."

For as long as he could remember, Ben didn't cry. Some of his unit back in Manticore had, but Ben never did. Now, however, out and free, staring at someone who had his eyes, who looked at him and saw him, Ben felt safe, even though the world was going mad outside the house, and Ben let Dean pull him close, gather him up in those strong arms, and Ben sobbed, cradled against Dean's chest.

He finally fell back asleep a dozen minutes after dawn. Distantly he felt Dean lay him on the bed and pull the comforter up, tuck the blanket around him. "Dream good, Benny," he heard Dean murmur and a kiss was pressed feathersoft to his forehead.

-

After Ben bared his soul before Dean, he was at peace. He fully surrendered control to Dean, content to let Dean be in charge. And with Dean came Sam.

Ben knew that he could trust them, let them in, that he was safer with them than anywhere else. He spent most of his time with one of them. They honed the skills Manticore gave him.

Michael sought him out, made sure Ben was happy. Sarah kept after him to eat healthy, to sleep and read, to make sure Dean and Sam weren't running him ragged.

And Ben could honestly tell Michael and Sarah that he was happy. For the first time in memory, he was content. Outside, the world had gone crazy and the news was worse every day, but inside the house and the fenced backyard, Ben laughed and smiled and learned from the Winchesters that he could be a kid, not just a killer.