Chapter Two

Sam rushed towards Dean, leaning over him. Dean's face was scrunched up in pain as he yelled.

"Dean!" Sam yelled, hands on Dean's shoulders. "Oh, God…Dean…"

"Max…" said Dean through his cries.

"What?" asked Sam, leaning closer.

"Call…Max…" said Dean, locking eyes with Sam. "4…9…4…"

"What does that mean?" asked Sam frantically. Dean's eyes rolled up into his head as his head fell to the floor. "Dean? Who's Max? Dean!"

But Dean wouldn't respond. Sam dug in Dean's pocket and pulled out his brother's cell phone. He scanned through the contacts until he found one named "Max." Sam quickly dialed it.

"Hello?" came a feminine voice from the other line.

"Is this Max?" asked Sam hurriedly.

"Maybe," she replied. "Can I ask who's calling?"

"Sam Winchester. I think you know my brother Dean."

"Sorry, don't know any Dean Winchester."

"Wait! He said to call you! Something's wrong with him! We're at Northern Lights Motel, room six, Portland, Oregon—"

"Look, I don't know this Dean."

"He gave me a number…uh…494!"

Max paused. "494?"

"Yeah. That mean anything?"

"What's he look like?"

"Six-two, brown hair, green eyes, barcode tattoo—"

"I'll be right there."

She hung up, and Sam stared at the phone before dropping it and turning back to Dean.

"Come on, Dean, hold on," said Sam. "Help's on the way."

Three hours later, Dean hadn't changed…unless you counted the increasing paleness, growing boils and shallow breathing.

A knock came at the motel door, and Sam sprang to his feet, swinging the door open.

A brunette woman stood in the door with what looked like a first aid kit…a large first aid kit. Sam assumed she was Max. She barged into the room, heading straight for Dean. She looked him over for a second.

"Has he gotten any milk lately?" asked Max.

Sam did a double-take. "You know about his serotonin deficiency?"

Max looked up at him. "You know?"

Sam shook his head. "That's not what this is. He didn't seize or anything. And he had milk, like, six hours ago. He started sweating and looking real tired. Then he collapsed to the floor, yelling in pain."

Max took another look at him. "Did he eat or drink anything recently?"

Sam's eyes widened. "The beer. It happened after he drank that beer."

"Dammit," said Max, opening her kit.

"You don't think he was poisoned, do you?" asked Sam.

"Probably," said Max, pulling out a needle and moving towards Dean's arm.

"What are you doing?" asked Sam.

"It's a genetically targeted retrovirus," said Max, sticking the needle in Dean's vein in his arm. "He needs the antibodies I have."

"How do you know that it's—"

"Not important."

Max connected the other end of the tube to a needle, sticking it in one of her veins. She opened the tubing, allowing gravity to draw her blood down into Dean's veins. As the three of them sat there for five minutes, Dean's skin had begun to return to its normal color. Max disconnected the tubing and put it away, bandaging herself and Dean up. They waited another ten minutes before Dean stopped sweating and his skin cleared up. Dean began moaning as he moved his head from side to side.

"Dean?" asked Sam, leaning over him.

Dean groaned again and opened his eyes. He looked up at Sam and then glanced over at Max and the tubing next to her. "I take it, it worked."

Max leaned over and slapped him across the face. Sam looked at her in shock.

Dean glared up at her. "What was that for?"

"You idiot," said Max. "What did you do this time to get White's attention? What, you cage fighting again? Or was it something more stupid?"

"I didn't do anything!" Dean yelled at her, pulling himself up to sit against the bed. "They found me! I didn't do anything!"

"What's going on, Dean?" asked Sam. "Who's White? You're cage fighting?"

"Well, you must have done something," said Max. "Why else would they poison you?"

"Maybe because they ran into me one day and followed me, I don't know!" said Dean. "I've been keeping a low profile."

"Oh, you mean since you left Terminal City," said Max. "Want to explain why?"

"What's Terminal City?" asked Sam.

"It's none of your business why I left!" yelled Dean.

"Dean, what is going on?" asked Sam. "Who is she?" Dean turned to give Sam some kind of reply.

"What do you mean, it's none of my business?" said Max. "You were practically my second-in-command, and you just ditch us? We needed you, Alec!" Dean looked at her, beginning to answer.

"Second-in-command?" said Sam. "What's that mean? Why's she calling you Alec?"

"Alright, both of you, shut up!" yelled Dean. The two of them stopped their yelling. Dean looked back and forth between the two of them, finally deciding to start with Max. "You're gonna have to wait. I need to explain to Sam first."

"Is that right?" said Max.

"Yes," said Dean viciously. "He's my brother. He deserves it."

Max's eyes seemed to widen at the mention of 'brother.'

Dean looked at Sam. "First off, I never wanted you to find out about this. It was my burden to bear. Once you know all the things I've done…what I am…"

Sam pulled himself over next to Dean. "It's okay. Whatever it is…you can tell me."

Dean looked down at his hands, seemingly trying to figure out what to say. He looked back up at Sam. "I'm not who you think I am."

Sam frowned. "What do you mean?"

"You remember all those news stories three or four years ago about Manticore and mutants breaking out?" asked Dean.

Sam frowned, thinking back. "I think so. It was some government operation that created genetically engineered humans…kept track of them with barcodes on their…" Sam trailed off, staring at Dean. He remember the barcode tattoo on the back of his neck. How did I not put that together? Sam thought. "You're…"

"A transgenic?" said Dean. "Afraid so."

Sam looked down at his feet, eyes wide. It can't be…He's a mutant? I would've noticed by now… But then again, he had noticed. The way Dean fought this morning, the barcode on his neck, the way he's never tired… It's all true. Sam looked up at Max. "Is she one?"

"Yeah," said Max. She lifted up her hair and turned her head a little, showing Sam her barcode. She dropped her hair as she turned back to the brothers.

"What was with that number you gave her?" asked Sam. "494?"

"It's the way Manticore kept track of us," said Dean. "Max and I are the X-series. My designation is X5-494. Max is X5-452."

"There's something I don't understand," said Max. "How can he be your brother? You're Manticore."

Dean sighed. "It was an experiment. I mean, there were cloners, right?" Max nodded her understanding.

"Cloners?" asked Sam.

"Sometimes, they create multiples of one set of DNA," said Dean. "Max has a twin: X5-453. I have a twin: X5-493. His name was Ben. He, uh, kinda went psycho…which proved their theory, I guess."

"What do you mean?" asked Max.

"They wanted to do some kind of social experiment," said Dean. "See if the environment had any effect on a transgenic's personality. They kept Ben in Manticore, but they gave me to a family…John and Mary Winchester. They adopted me because they couldn't have children…well, until Sam, anyway. I had to return to Manticore once a year, though, to train. I would stay there for about a week and then I was returned to my home. My parents never suspected a thing."

"So…Mom and Dad never noticed you were missing for a week?" asked Sam.

"Well, a Manticore employee always came by saying they were my biological grandparents…wanted to spend the week with me," said Dean. They had DNA matches and certificates and everything. Mom and Dad bought it."

Sam's eyes widened as he looked down at his feet. "You're really not my brother?"

"Hey," said Dean. Sam looked up at him. "I may not share DNA with you, but I am your brother. Nothing changes that." Sam smiled a little, reassured.

"So, when I met you at Manticore, that was your assigned week?" asked Max.

"Well, that was about the time that Sam went off to Stanford," said Dean. "I only had Dad around, so I could slip away more often. He thought I was working jobs."

"But then you disappeared a year after we set up shop in Terminal City," said Max. "What happened, Alec?"

"Why does she call you Alec?" asked Sam.

"That's the name she gave me," said Dean. "I couldn't go by Dean at Manticore, only my designation. So, Max gave me a name."

"And she chose Alec?" asked Sam.

"It's short for Smart Alec," said Max.

Sam smiled. "Yeah, it would be."

"Well, a year after Terminal City got established," said Dean. "I'd been away from my father for a long time. I needed to check up with him. So, I left to go find him. We hunted together for a while until he disappeared a few months ago."

"He's missing?" asked Max.

"Yeah, that's why I'm with Sam now," said Dean. "We're trying to find him."

Max shook her head. "I just don't understand how you could have gone along with Manticore when you had a family to teach you what was right and wrong. How could you be so cold?"

Dean glared at her. "You have no idea what I've been through."

"Oh, really?" said Max. "Because it sounds like you were living the perfect life while the rest of us were being treated like lab rats back at Manticore."

Dean stood up, towering over her, his face a mask of fury. "Don't you dare judge me! You have no clue who I am!"

"A traitor!" yelled Max, getting in his face. "You left the rest of us there to suffer at their hands while you were safe at home!"

Dean punched Max in the jaw, fuming. Max looked up at him as Dean glared at her. "You think I wasn't suffering? You have no idea the hell that I've…" Dean clenched his jaw shut. "Get out."

"Alec—" began Max.

"Get out!" yelled Dean in her face.

Max glared at him before turning towards the door. "You're welcome, jerk." She left, slamming the door.

Sam looked at Dean. "What the hell did they do to you, Dean?"

Dean looked up at him, still fuming, and went into the bathroom to clean up.