Chapter 7

The next morning Dean acted like nothing had happened during the night, and Logan and Sam followed his lead, although the latter kept shooting furtive glances his brother's way every few minutes. Once, Dean caught Logan gaping at him and the younger man was the one to look away embarrassed, as older man's sharp eyes silently dared him to bring the last night's episode up.

After breakfast, the two computer geeks moved off to the computer room where they tried to figure out if there was any pattern to the kidnappings, and to see if they could pinpoint where Ben had been keeping his victims before freeing them to hunt them down. They stopped only to eat lunch and went straight back to work after.

Dean sat at the table jotting notes in a battered and weather-beaten leather notebook that looked like it had seen better days. Lots of much better days. He tapped the tip of his pen on the table as he thought. Tap tap-tap tap. Sam glared at the persistent noise, but again, said nothing.

"Is there always a pattern to these things? Supernatural things?" Logan asked with curiosity.

"Usually, there is some kind of pattern to spirits that can travel over a certain area. If it's the kind that can't move around, it'll just go after anyone in its territory," Sam explained, hands waving through the air as he spoke. "Now, obviously, Ben fits this category, although the area he can move around in seems to be a fairly large section of Seattle. So there should be a pattern, and if we can figure it out, we might be able to figure out where he's keeping Jimmy."

"Well, we've mapped out the churches where both Ben's recent victims and victims from when he was still alive were taken from," Logan said, peering at the colored points on the computer screen. "They all seem random to me."

Sam squinted at the monitor. "It sometimes helps if we connect the dots."

Logan pressed some keys and a web of lines appeared. Two heads, one with short blonde hair and the other with shaggy brown, tilted to the side simultaneously.

"See anything?"

Pause. "Do squiggles count?"

Sam turned to his brother. "Dean, get your ass over here. You're better at seeing patterns than I am."

Dean rolled his eyes but complied. After examining the map for a minute, he shook his head. "Sammy, I know I'm no genius, but what happened to you, college boy?"

Sam raised his eyebrows in confusion. "What do you mean?"

"We forgot to ask one question. And according to what Max let us know last night, she can tell us." To Logan, "Call her."

As Logan turned to the phone, Sam asked his brother what question they forgot to ask. "Wait and see, little brother," was the only reply he got.

After several minutes, Logan managed to get Max on the other end. "Hey Max."

"Hey you." She sounded tired. "You get anything on the you-know-what?"

"No, but Dean wants to ask you a question."

Max sounded wary. "What kind of a question?"

Dean smirked. "Nothing dirty, I swear."

Max sputtered. "You put me on speaker?!"

"Well…I—er," Logan stammered.

Dean took over the conversation. "Look, Max. You know we're looking for where Ben might be keeping Father Lawrence, right? From your story yesterday, you know where he used to put his victims while he was still living. Can you tell us where that was?"

Behind him, Sam muttered, "Oh my god, I am an idiot."

After a pause, Max answered. "There's an old abandoned factory just outside the city, near the part of the forest that burned down. It was a fertilizer factory, I think. He kept his victims in this small utility closet. Do you think that's it?"

Dean nodded. "Yeah. Okay. Thanks, Max."

"We'll meet you there in an hour," she said authoritatively.

Dean raised his eyebrows. "No, you're not. You two stay where you are and do your job running your little city while Sam and I do our job ganking this ghost. You hear me, Max?" A click was the only answer he got. "Dammit." He grabbed his leather jacket and stormed out the door.

"She might be able to tell us what Ben's spirit is attached to if we find whatever it is there, you know," Sam pointed out, as he followed.

Logan rushed off after the brothers. "I'm coming, too."

"No, you're not," came from Dean, rummaging in the trunk. He poked his head out. "What do you think this is, a game? It's a dangerous gig. We've got a psycho Transgenic serial killer ghost on the loose. You could get hurt. I am not gonna take that risk. It's enough having two marked victims tagging along without you coming with us. I mean, come on, you were in a freaking wheelchair last night."

"Well, you didn't get a whole lot of sleep what with that concussion and nightmare you had," Logan retorted, somewhat relishing the flinch Dean gave. "And my situation is under control. I'm walking now, aren't I? I've got to make sure Max is safe."

Dean opened his mouth to argue, but Sam placed a hand on his chest, effectively stopping him. Sam raised his eyebrows, seeming to urge his brother to reconsider. Dean glared at him for a long while before giving in. "Freaking puppy dog eyes," he muttered.

"Okay fine, you can come along," Dean said grudgingly. He pointed a finger at Logan. "But, just try to stay out of trouble, okay? No saving-the-day crap."

"Okay," Logan nodded, sunlight glinting off of his glasses. "Deal."

"Good. Get in the car." The driver's side of the Impala slammed shut, the sound echoing the foul mood her owner was in.

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There was an extra-long wait at the sector border, which made them later than planned. When the big black car finally pulled up at the rundown factory, AC/DC pouring from her speakers, they found Max and Alec alighting from their motorcycles, apparently having gotten there just before them.

"So what's the plan?" Max asked, striding up to the fuming Dean.

"The plan is, missy," Dean said, up in her face, green eyes flashing, "that you do what I say, when I say it. You kids are soldiers, right? Well, think of me as your CO. You take your orders from me or Sam, got it?"

"I don't take orders from anybody," spat Max, while Alec spewed, "Who the hell gave you the right to boss us around like that?"

Sam pulled his brother aside angrily. "What the hell's gotten into you? You're acting like Dad."

Dean's eyes darkened. "Is that so bad? Following Dad's orders kept us out of trouble most of the time, didn't it?" he growled. Looking away from his brother, he sighed and rubbed his hand across his face, suddenly looking older than his 43 years in the afternoon light. "I just don't want to see those kids get hurt. This spirit is powerful enough to pop up anywhere it wants to. It'll be easier to do the job without having to worry about three other people who don't know what the hell they're doing."

Sam glanced at Logan, Max, and Alec, the latter two obviously listening in on their conversation with their keen sense of sound, and the Ordinary trying to figure out what they're saying. "The 'kids' are genetically enhanced and were trained by the military. They can take care of themselves. And I talked to Logan before about his exo. It gives him improved abilities in his legs, so he won't be completely in the way."

Dean took a long moment to think. Finally, he said, "Fine, but if anybody gets hurt..." He left the sentence incomplete, letting a look at Sam finish it for him. "…remember it wasn't my idea." Moving back to the rest of the group, Dean announced, "Alright. Here's the plan. We go in, one group goes to find where Father Lawrence is, gets him out, the other group searches the place for whatever is keeping the spirit here. Any objections?"

Sullen silence. Then Alec spoke up. "Okay. Sounds like a plan," he said quietly, arms crossed and head up, his clear green gaze piercing resentment directly into Dean's now hazel eyes. "Sir."

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AN: Dean's in a bad mood this chap. Sorry he's so mean. I'll have him back to his snarky self in a bit. Promise. Sorry, too, for the short chapter. What, did you think I was going to tell you what Ben's connected to in this one? Wait for it. It's coming up soon.