Chapter Ten
Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural or LOST.
Ana Lucia followed closely behind her squad captain into the familiar city building where she knew that all of the dead bodies were sent to. Even though she wasn't a detective, she was a full-fledged LAPD officer and sometimes that meant that you were required to be present when a family member had to identify a body. That was especially true if you just so happened to be the patrol officer unlucky enough to discover a body or if you arrived first to a murder scene.
This building was usually where it all happened.
She always felt sick here.
She quickly schooled her features as they both stopped in front of a large window and she gazed as disinterestedly as she could manage at the blanketed body laid out before them. "What's this all about?" she inquired.
Her captain let out a deep sigh as she nodded her head to the mortician in the room beyond the glass. He nodded back to her before he pulled the blanket away from the body to reveal the familiar face that Ana Lucia had seen a few nights back.
Monster.
The knot in Ana Lucia's stomach grew at the sight of the dead shifter that she had tried to kill in retribution for its original attack on her…for the stolen life of her unborn baby. She wasn't a very religious person, despite her upbringing, but she couldn't help but thank God for the man that had saved her life that night after her actions had almost allowed the shifter to finish the job and kill her. Even though she didn't know his name, that man had opened her eyes to the real world when he sat her down to enlighten her to his life of hunting the things she thought were only fodder for campfire stories. Ever since that night, she'd been at a crossroads. She couldn't identify with the police force anymore. She couldn't even identify with the ignorance of the human race, and the dead eyes of the impossible creature before her did nothing to quell that empty feeling.
"You remember Jason McCormack, right?" Her captain asked her. "He was found in an alley just after three in the morning. Crime scene pulled a gun from the dumpster…registration was filed off, no prints, no witnesses." She bit down hard on her lip as her captain's expression changed and she could see the face of her mother emerge from the hard wall she tried to keep up during work hours. "Ana, he was executed."
Ana Lucia had to suppress the triumphant smirk that threatened to spread across her face. Her rescuer had planted that gun in the dumpster almost immediately after the shifter had been taken care of. As a cop, she'd been a bit insulted by his blatant disrespect of law enforcement, but as a scorned woman, she'd been impressed if not amused.
"Any idea who did it?" Ana Lucia asked.
"Yeah, Ana, you did," her mother told her as Ana fixed her with a bored look. "This man confesses to shooting you in cold blood and you refuse to ID him, so we had to cut him loose. Days later, he shows up with seven bullets in his chest because you shot him," she explained as carefully as she could manage. Ana Lucia gave nothing away as she turned from her mother and stared hard at the body. "All of the slugs were extracted and do you know what we found?"
Ana Lucia shrugged nonchalantly as her mother tapped the glass to indicate to the mortician that he could recover the dead face. "Six of them were regular bullets, while one of them was pure silver. It had carvings on it that we haven't been able to identify, yet."
"So?" Ana Lucia asked.
"So, cult crimes got wind of the carvings and wants in on this case," her mother explained. "What are you involved in, mija?"
"This wasn't me. And we both know that if you had any proof otherwise, I'd already be in a holding cell."
"This is murder," her mother hissed. "Not only that, but there is pre-meditation at play here, which makes this situation even more worse for you."
"Well…I guess I should get a lawyer," Ana Lucia commented as she turned to walk out of the building.
Her mother grabbed her arm to stop her as she let out a deep sigh and pushed back a wayward strand of hair. "Look, we both know that this is going to be a dead-end investigation. But, Ana, if you did this…if you did this…you have to let me help you."
"Yeah, thanks, mom; but I don't need your help," Ana Lucia turned her down as she yanked her arm out of her grip and turned back around to leave.
"You don't want my help; you're going to have to get it from somewhere else," her mother yelled after her as Ana Lucia turned back around and shot her mother a pointed look. "You're a police officer, Ana. If you don't respect me, at least respect that."
Those crossroads cleared up slightly as the path towards her career and life as a cop dimmed. She'd given the job so many years of her life and gotten nothing back but grief. Between her shooting, her rehabilitation and therapy and then her re-instatement that had only happened at the expense of her mother's trust, she was exhausted. Her eyes had been opened wide when that man had saved her life. His patient explanations of his world and his life had cemented her decisions, even if she hadn't quite known it at the time. The world wasn't black and white as she had come to believe. There were shades of grey and now she knew that there were people that operated within those shades of grey. Being a cop only applied to the black and white.
She pulled out her badge and gave it one last long look before she stepped forward and handed it over to her mother. "Then, I quit."
From an early age and by her own desires, almost everything in Ana Lucia's life had been planned out precisely. She'd known since she was a little girl and watched her mother rise through the LAPD ranks that all she'd ever wanted was to be a cop. When she graduated from the police academy with enough commendations to have her dreams placed at her feet, she had been excited to begin her future. That excitement had quickly been replaced by disappointment when she'd been assigned to patrol underneath her mother's watchful eye.
She loved her mother and admired her greatly, but she knew that she didn't agree with her life choices regarding her career. Sure, it was good enough for her mother, but definitely not something she should have pursued. That had been apparent when all of Ana Lucia's attempts to move away from patrol had been met with rejection.
Her career had all but stalled and as much as she hated to admit it, the shooting had been the turning point in her life. After mourning the child she would never get to meet, revenge had kept her going long enough for her to accidentally discover a different world, all thanks to one Dean Winchester. After he'd left and her mother had accused her of murder, the world had started to shrink again until she'd been given the opportunity to escape to Australia. That's all the trip had been to her. A clean start as she tried to decide on what to do with her newfound knowledge of the world. That was the problem with opened eyes…even when you closed them; the images still remained in your head.
Ana Lucia descended the stairs into the hatch with her bottom lip wedged between her teeth. She felt apprehensive and she couldn't even place the source of her feeling. After Jack and Dean had left to go and set up their prisoner trade, she'd offered to stay with Sam while he simultaneously kept an eye on Locke, Henry and the button, but he'd politely declined her offer. If she had to be honest with herself, she'd been glad for the reprieve and promptly marched back up to the beach.
She couldn't identify the exact reason why, but as she'd passed Dean's empty tent, the urge to enter had overwhelmed her and what she thought would only be a few moments inside had turned into the entire night as she camped out on his bedroll. It was the best sleep she'd been able to manage since the crash…maybe even before that. Even without Dean there, she could feel his presence and smell his familiar scent inside the crude shelter. It made her feel safe, at least, safe enough to manage a restful night. She felt lighter because of it.
"How's he doing?" Ana Lucia asked as she stepped out of the stairway and into the hatch computer room. Sam glanced up from the book in his hands and smiled over at her before he furrowed his brow at the inquiring look on her face.
"How's who doing?"
"The prisoner," she clarified with a nod towards the armory. "Any change since yesterday?"
Sam placed his book down on the desk as he shook his head up at her. "None," he admitted before he stood up and stretched out his atrophied muscles. "Locke checked on him a bit earlier, but he won't eat, still won't talk…it's just a wasted effort at this point."
"I figured I'd give it another try," she admitted with a shrug. "I may not have the same LAPD sway I once had, but I'm pretty sure I still know how to interrogate a perp."
"Yeah, but we don't really know if he is a perp," Sam reminded her.
"Well, he isn't innocent, that's for sure," she retorted before she walked out of the main room towards the kitchen. If she had any hope of him opening up to her, she figured she could try the honey approach instead of vinegar. It wouldn't do them any good for him to keel over from starvation, despite the fact that in the dark recesses of her mind, she could care less about his fate. If she consulted her instincts, her gut, she knew that their prisoner was bad news. He was a ticking time bomb and eventually, he would blow up and take out a good portion of the radius that surrounded him with no thought to the collateral damage.
"Through a man's stomach, it is," she muttered to herself as she pulled several pieces of fruit down from the shelves and began to cut them up. She glanced up from her task and chuckled at the sight of Locke stretched out across the hatch's lone cot just as a loud snore erupted from his mouth. It was good to know that she hadn't been the only person to manage a good night's sleep recently.
Her amused smile dimmed as she placed all of the sliced fruit in a bowl and crossed the room to open the armory door. Henry didn't even glance up at her as she placed the food down next to him and leaned against the wall opposite him in order to keep both of her eyes on him at all times. That uneasy feeling spiked with each silent moment she stood before him. "Hey, Henry…what do you say? How long do you plan to keep up this hunger strike?"
He didn't acknowledge her question or the fruit while the quiet around them grew thicker and more ominous as the constant buzz of the hatch became the only noise to accentuate their bleak interaction. This was going to end up being a complete waste of time, she just knew it. "Did I ever tell you that I was a cop?" she asked. "I've been around a lot of killers during my career and do you know what surprises me about most of them? How much they love to talk." She glanced down at him as he remained emotionless. "But, you're different, Henry. You're quiet."
He audibly scoffed before he pressed his cheek into his shoulder and whispered something under his breath. She pushed away from the concrete wall as her eyes narrowed in suspicion. She could have sworn she'd just heard him say the name Jason McCormack. "What was that?"
Henry repeated himself under his breath again, but just loud enough for Ana Lucia to hear him sneer her name before he looked right up at her and mouthed the word killer. Immediately, the last vestiges of control she had over her emotions disappeared only to be replaced with anger. She stomped up to him, squatted down to his eye level so that her face was inches from his and grabbed a handful of his ripped shirt. "If you're going to say something; you're going to have to speak up."
The existing knot in her stomach twisted and once she looked back on this moment, she'd be able to pinpoint that exact second when she made her mistake. During most of her life, her mother had accused her of being impetuous and she knew that several of her bad life choices were born from her own short temper. Henry didn't waste a single moment as he quickly stood and knocked Ana back with enough force that she fell hard onto her back on the concrete floor. The oxygen in her lungs immediately knocked out as she gasped for air.
She didn't have a single moment to recover before he climbed over her and clutched her throat tightly with both of his hands. "You killed two of us," he hissed down at her as she clawed at his hands and tried in vain to draw air into her empty lungs. "Good people who were leaving you alone. But, that's what you are, Ana Lucia. You're the killer in this room." She struggled against him, but he remained staunchly pinned over her as his grip on her throat increased with each movement. She couldn't help but be surprised that someone so small possessed so much strength.
Black spots danced before her hazy vision and she dejectedly resigned herself to the upcoming outcome of the situation she had stupidly placed herself in just as his vice-like grip slacked. She sucked in a harsh breath as Henry sank like a dead weight on top of her. Immediately, she pushed him off of her body and scurried back away from him until her back collided with the familiar cement walls. As she pulled more air into her lungs, she looked up in surprise at Locke who held his crutch in the air above Henry with a stunned look on his face.
"Well, I guess he decided to start talking, huh?"
Tears filled Ana's eyes as she jumped up from her huddled position on the floor and ran past Locke into the interior portion of the hatch. She cried out as she slammed full force into Sam and he grabbed her to steady her balance before she could fall to the cold, hard ground. Her own traitorous body chose that moment for the tears in her eyes to stream down her cheeks as Sam's concerned face took in her anguished expression before his attention darted over to Locke and then Henry's slumped body on the armory floor. He bent down to her level and searched her face again before he finally noticed the swollen and red skin at her neck and she flinched as he gently brushed his fingers over it. "What happened?"
She forcefully pushed Sam away from her as she brushed past him to the stairway and ran up them as fast as she could manage. She could hear Sam behind her as he yelled her name and didn't even spare him a backwards glance as she emerged into the sunlight and hastily wiped away the proof of her distress. Her oxygen deprived lungs protested in the form of sharp pain as she carried herself faster and faster away from the monster inside of the hatch and back to the peace and safety of Dean's tent.
By the way, I want you to personally let little Sammy know that we'll be seeing him real soon.
Dean stared long and hard at the treeline that Michael had emerged from. He could hear Kate's panicked calls to himself and Jack from behind him, but couldn't find it in himself to tear his attention away from his own dilemma. Not this time.
They were out there right now, probably watching the four of them at that very moment. They had to be.
He winced as that bearded bastard's smug grin assaulted his memories once more. He refused to put up with anybody that threatened his family and thought that they could get away with it. It was wholly unacceptable. He breathed in deeply, squared his shoulders and prepared to march into the jungle as he felt Jack on his left-hand side mirror his actions.
"Dean! Jack…stop!" Kate pleaded. They both immediately halted after only a few footsteps and Dean leveled an annoyed look at Jack. It's not like he could blame Jack for Kate being there, it had been his idea completely and now he was paying for it. They both turned in unison and glanced back at the hysterical woman as her wide eyes practically glistened with tears. She had Michael's head cradled in her lap as he remained unconscious on the ground next to her. "Please…he's not waking up. I need your help."
"You heard her," Dean muttered over to Jack.
"Me?" Jack asked incredulously. "Why can't you help him? You have first aid experience."
"Which pales in comparison to the fact that you're the doctor, Jack," Dean reminded him. "Stay here and help Michael while I go find those bastards and deal with them."
"They're not out there," Kate spoke up. "They would have shown up by now."
"Don't be so naïve, Kate…they're watching us right now. Probably laughing their asses off," Dean spat back at her. "Why else would they just let Michael go?"
"How do you know they even had him?" Kate asked. "He's alone. They didn't just push him out of the jungle and into our arms!"
Dean tore his gaze away from Kate and worked to level out his mood before he glanced down at Michael. He felt his features slack at the exhausted expression on the older man's face, there even when he was unconscious. He'd obviously been through a rough time on his own. He hated to admit it to himself, but Kate might be right. He didn't know for sure that Michael had been with the Others this entire time or that he'd even managed to find them. If they were as shrewd as he and Sam gave them credit for, there was a very small chance that Michael would have been able to find them, even if they did have his son as a means of motivation.
Why did these people even want Walt? Was it the same reason they were interested in Sam? Was it the same reason that the people from the tail section had been steadily abducted since the crash? What was the connection?
Between Ethan and that bearded man, they'd both pointedly mentioned his brother by name and he was hard pressed to believe that it had been some sort of scare tactic. If he took the time to think back on it, though, a lot of things seemed linked to his brother. Their mother's death. Their father's sudden disappearance. Hell, even Jessica's death. None of it made any sense. Sam had effectively turned his back on hunting and carved out a normal life for himself and the only result of that decision had been the same heartbreak that their father lived through on a daily basis.
If all of these things were connected to his brother, to Walt or to the other abducted people, then it all made the plane crash seem less and less like an unlucky circumstance. Dean had some answers that he had to find out and he didn't know how much Sam would be able to help him, especially if he was marked as a target.
"Maybe Kate's right," Dean admitted as he took one last lingering look back at the treeline before he turned his attention to Jack. "I think between the two of us we can get Michael back to the hatch in enough time for you to get a really good look at him. Check for any major injuries. And, if he does need medical attention, all of the supplies are there anyways."
Jack shook his head and opened his mouth to argue as Dean shot him a severe look and he promptly closed it. A muscle in his jaw ticked in aggravation as he let out a huff of aggravation. "Sure, okay," he admitted in a defeated voice.
Kate gently placed Michael's limp head back on the ground as she rose and scurried out of their way. Dean nodded his appreciation to her as he knelt down next to Michael's head and firmly grabbed his shoulders while Jack grabbed his ankles. They both lifted him at the same time and moved in tandem across the clearing in order to get him back to the hatch and away from the boundary line as quickly as possible.
To say that Sam was stunned was more than an understatement. Ever since the first moment that he'd met Ana Lucia, she'd been the definition of put together, even when circumstances should have broken her down. It was one of the things that he'd admired about her and also confused the hell out of him. She just took any punch thrown at her, almost as if she had been raised like a hunter. He glanced over at Locke as he closed the armory door behind him and his gaze immediately hardened.
"What happened?"
Locke turned from the door and leaned his weight against it as he shot an exasperated look at Sam. "Henry…he, uh…" he stammered out. "He attacked her. I knocked him out." He held up his crutch for Sam to see as Sam shook his head ruefully.
"That guy just signed his own death warrant," Sam hissed as he stalked closer to the door.
Locke stood up straight and held out his hands in placation as he shook his head from side to side. "Sam, just hang on one moment…"
"Not a chance!" Sam barked. "Look, I already thought that we'd put up with that asshole's crap for far too long and now he goes and attacks someone from our group? Clearly, he's got a death wish and I intend to fulfill it." He waited a few moments for Locke to move before he sucked in a calming breath and crossed his arms in front of him. "How bad?"
"How bad? How bad what?" Locke asked.
"How bad was the attack?" Sam reiterated. "Clearly she had the strength to run out of here, but I've never seen her like that. So shaken up. What exactly did he do to her?"
Locke's shoulders slumped in resignation as he backed up further against the armory door. Sam didn't know if it was for the support that only having one good foot brought him or if it was just to be closer in case Sam tried anything, but it pissed him off even further. "When I got in there, he was choking her," he explained. "I don't know how much had happened before that, but I don't think it was much."
"So, he didn't just attack her," Sam surmised. "He tried to kill her."
He moved again to get around Locke as Locke once again held up his hands and stopped him. "Let me talk to him first," Locke requested. "I think she was trying to question him and I'd like to take over and see if I can get him figured out before you or someone else just up and kills him."
It seemed like a waste of time to Sam, especially when he would feel so much better to know that piece of scum was dead. Locke waited patiently for several moments as he saw the internal struggle that raged across Sam's face at his request. He wanted answers and dead men didn't have the luxury of providing them. "I'm leaving the door open while you're in there," Sam finally told him as Locke visibly relaxed. "If I hear anything that I don't like, I'm ending the interrogation."
Locke swallowed hard and nodded his head in understanding before he turned and put in the combination to open the armory door back up. He glanced back at Sam over his shoulder as Sam retreated behind the heavy door so Henry wouldn't be able to see him. He couldn't see anything and wouldn't be able to see anything, but he had the advantage of hearing everything as Henry loudly moaned in pain. "If you've come to apologize, I forgive you for hitting me with your crutch," he weakly spoke up as Sam heard the rustle of him trying to move. "I'm so glad my head didn't break it."
"Why?" Locke asked.
Henry let out a deep chuckle at Locke's question and Sam couldn't help but be cautious of his jovial attitude. Why was he just now speaking up and why to Locke? He hadn't heard this much come from that man's mouth during the entire time that they'd had him in custody. "Now that's a broad question," Henry responded.
"Why'd you try to hurt Ana Lucia?" Locke asked him. "But not me?"
The heavy silence stretched on for several moments and almost forced Sam to leave his hiding spot before Henry finally spoke up. "I'm not sure I know what you're getting at, John."
"I was trapped under that blast door…helpless. You could've crushed my skull, but you didn't do a thing. Why didn't you?" Locke asked him.
"Because you're one of the good ones, John," Henry nonchalantly informed him.
Sam's brow furrowed as he recognized the tone in Henry's voice. He'd heard it his entire life from dozens of different men and women. That sugary sweet quality that a thousand hunters, his father and brother included, used when they ran one of their survival cons. Henry was playing Locke. This man knew exactly what Locke wanted to hear and he spun it perfectly. He was a sociopath.
"What? Good what?" Locke asked.
Sam withheld the ironic chuckle as he could only guess what would come out of Henry's mouth next. He'd effectively dangled a compliment in front of a man that Sam had already identified that craved validation. His next move would be to shroud that compliment in as much vague information as he could and paint himself as the victim. Sam would bet money on it.
"None of this matters. I'm dead anyway," Henry lazily answered him. "The doctor's gone to make a trade and we both know he'll come back empty-handed and then I've lost my value. So, either Jack comes back here and kills me or my people find out where I'm being held and they do it."
"Ok, that's enough," Sam spoke up as he walked around the door and stood in the armory doorway. Locke glanced up at him with frustration written across his face as Henry stared up at him in what could only be described as awe. It was unnerving.
"I didn't realize we had an audience," Henry spoke up as he gazed sideways in accusation at Locke.
"That shouldn't come as a shock to you," Sam told him with a snort. "I think we've already established that you're the least trustworthy person on this island."
"What makes you think that?" Henry retorted. "Think about it, Sam…"
"Don't say my name," Sam hissed down at Henry. "You don't know me."
"That's where you're wrong, young man," Henry taunted him. "I know you more than your own brother probably knows you."
"Bullshit," Sam growled.
A lazy smile stretched across Henry's face as he leaned comfortably back against the cement wall and fixed his attention on Sam. "I'm curious, what did Dean say when you told him about the dreams you had of dear Jessica's death?" He asked. "What did he think when you told him that you ignored them over and over again just so you could cut yourself another slice of normal pie?"
A lump formed in Sam's throat as his features went slack at the look of triumph on Henry's face. "I assume by your expression that you haven't shared those little nuggets with big brother. Why is that? Do you still want him to think you're the innocent little brother that had such an unfortunate thing happen to the woman he loves? Or is it because you like that he shoulders a majority of the guilt for her death because it was him that dragged you away from her?"
Sam didn't know what to say…he was speechless. He'd come into this situation filled with enough rage to finally assume that he had the upper hand, but that disappeared with this snake's words. How could he know about any of this? Sam thought back to the moment before the crash on the plane. The moment when he'd seen those yellow eyes staring back at him before he'd been thrown around in the turbulence. The moment he had convinced himself that he'd imagined, if only to further his own survival on this island. It was the only explanation he could think of.
"Christo."
Henry's smug smile waned as he tilted his head in confusion before he glanced up at Locke with a furrowed brow. Ok, so not possessed then. Maybe he was working with the yellow eyed demon? If so, why hadn't the demon made an appearance yet?
"To answer your question, John…when that woman caught me in her trap I was on my way here," Henry announced, his confused gaze still locked up on Sam. "I was coming for you."
Locke ate up every one of Henry's words as Sam stared at him like he was the most dangerous thing he'd ever encountered in his entire life. He wanted to kill him even more now, answers be damned.
"Locke!" Kate's frantic voice carried into the armory. "Sam!"
Locke stood up and followed Sam out of the armory before he shut the door between them and Henry. It was the first time that morning that Sam felt like he could breathe again, but he still had so much on his mind after their conversation. While Henry had been correct about several of his revelations, it wasn't possible for him to know any of it. When he glanced over at Locke, he could see the morbid curiosity that was undoubtedly etched across his face mirrored back at him. "Where are you guys? Get out here!" Kate yelled again.
Locke immediately sprang into action as Sam stayed behind and kept his attention focused on the closed door and the horrible man inside. If his instincts were correct, then it hadn't been a hallucination the day of the crash. The demon that his broken family had spent decades hunting was on this island and had kept itself hidden the entire time.
How in the hell was he going to tell Dean?
Traipsing through the jungle while trying to balance dead weight was one thing, but Dean figured that there were more than enough people that were willing to help out with Michael inside the hatch, his brother included. When they arrived at the stairway entrance, he carefully passed Michael over to Kate so he'd be able to head back to the beach instead. She smiled her understanding at him as they both descended with Michael into the darkness until he couldn't see them anymore. It wasn't anything personal; he just really, really hated that damn hatch.
Before he retreated to the comfort of his tent, he sought out Sawyer to make sure he wasn't still bitter about being left out of the hike. He'd been cranky and snapped his responses until Dean assured him that nothing of interest besides them finding Michael had occurred. It was good to know that a dose of inaction was the best way to turn around the worst sort of bad attitude. "I gotta tell ya, I'm kinda glad you insisted that I sit this one out," Sawyer amended. "Seems to me like the whole thing turned out to be pretty boring."
"Not that I'm complaining about having a moment of peace around here," Dean told him. "But, I agree…I doubt I was even needed for anything more than helping Jack get Michael back to the hatch."
Sawyer grinned wide and whistled his opinion on the matter before Dean grinned back at him and patted him on the shoulder. He said his goodbyes and walked the few feet to his tent, intent to catch up on all the sleep he'd lost from the hike.
As he entered, he immediately startled at the sight of Ana Lucia stretched out on his bedroll, deeply asleep herself. He smiled brightly as he moved closer to her and took note of how serene she looked when she was sound asleep. She was a beautiful woman, he couldn't deny that, but ever since the first time he'd met her, he'd noticed the harshness that she always seemed to wear on her face. He credited it as her defense mechanism and to see it missing was a welcome adjustment.
He pulled off his backpack and tentatively took a seat at her side as his smile faded when he saw the puffy and red skin underneath her eyes. Had she been crying? She stirred slightly and exposed a slew of bruises on her neck that forced his eyes to narrow and his breath to catch. What in the hell had happened while he'd been gone?
"Hey," Dean whispered as he gently shook her shoulder. He waited a few moments for her eyes to open and the confusion to fade before she smiled up at him in welcome.
"You're back," she murmured sleepily. Dean could hear the raspy quality of her voice and assumed that it had nothing to do with the typical grogginess of having just woken up.
"What happened?" he softly demanded.
Her head titled to the right as her brow furrowed in confusion. Dean let out a deep sigh around an eye roll as he motioned to his own throat in irritation. The sleepiness completely faded from her face as her features hardened and she absently rubbed at the raw skin on her throat. "Oh, that."
"Yeah, that," Dean confirmed. "What happened?"
"Look, it's nothing I can't handle, so…" Ana Lucia began.
"Those bruises are in the shape of hands. Small hands, from what I can tell, but still hands," Dean observed as he reached out and gently caressed her bruised skin. "What in the hell happened?"
Ana Lucia swatted his hand away before she stood up from his bedroll and wrung her hands together nervously. "I'm fine, ok? This isn't anything you need to worry about," she told him. The muscle in Dean's jaw ticked twice before he slowly stood up and walked towards her. He swallowed thickly as he placed both of his hands softly on her shoulders and stared down into her eyes.
"Please?" He asked. "Someone did this to you and I just wanna know who."
She glanced away from him as her vision became hazy with tears. He placed his hand under her chin and gently moved her face back towards his. "You were in the hatch when I left. Did it happen there?"
She blinked back her tears before she exhaled loudly and nodded up at him. "Ok, so in the hatch. I'm positive that Sam wouldn't pull something like this, he was raised better than that," Dean informed her with a proud smile. "Locke might be a yoga type hippie tool, but from what I've observed, there's no way in hell that he'd hurt a woman, even one as badass as you. So, I'm gonna put all of my money on Henry," he concluded. "Was it him?"
She nodded again sheepishly as he stepped back from her and breathed in deeply through his nose. She rushed after him, her face frantic as she placed her hands on his chest to try and calm him down. "I'm fine, Dean. He got the upper hand for a moment and attacked me, but I'm fine now."
"That guy has had more chances than most people I've known for years and he's wiped his ass with each one," Dean told her. "As far as I'm concerned, this was his third strike." He gently extracted Ana's hands from his chest and brushed his lips over one of her palms before he lowered them both down to her sides. "I'm gonna take care of this, ok?"
"Dean, no," Ana Lucia told him. "Don't get me wrong, when I got back here, I thought of the same thing for a good long while. But, I calmed down and fell asleep and I'm so glad I didn't act out what I was feeling at the time. I have enough blood on my hands from this island."
"Ana, you were defending yourself," Dean reassured her before he shook his head and pulled his backpack back over his shoulders. "Look, I know you probably don't agree with me, but it's not just you that I care about on this island. My little brother is here and those people have already used him to threaten me twice. I won't let some asshole that doesn't have enough self preservation to leave the people on our side alone be the one that follows through on those threats."
He moved towards his tent opening but stopped when he saw the bright smile that radiated up at him from Ana Lucia's face. "What?"
"You care about me." She repeated back in flattered amusement.
Dean smiled back at her as he shook his head incredulously. "You are such a chick," he muttered before he ducked out of his tent and headed back towards the hatch.
The scene that greeted Dean when he walked into the hatch was one of pure disappointment. There were too many people hanging around which quickly diminished his chances of dealing with Henry in a solitary manner. He had to clear these people out somehow. "Hey, what's going on?" Dean asked his brother as he stopped right next to him.
"You guys found Michael," Sam told him in stunned disbelief.
"Oh geez, is that what this is all about?" Dean asked as he motioned to the people in the hatch. "It's not like we even really found him instead of him finding us. We were shouting at the trees and he just stumbled out, exhausted." Sam nodded his head in comprehension as he continued to watch Jack try to revive Michael. "So, I just saw Ana Lucia."
Sam glanced sideways over at his brother as he breathed in deeply and released it. "Oh?"
"Don't, 'oh?' me!" Dean snapped. "Did you know that that son of a bitch tried to kill her?"
Sam held up his hands to silence his brother before he grabbed his arm and pulled him away from the other people in the hatch towards the empty computer room. "Look, I didn't even find out what had really happened until afterwards," Sam explained to him. "She was upset and ran out of here, so Locke filled me in on what happened."
"Well, if she was upset before, she seems to have calmed down now," Dean shared with him. "How in the hell did he even manage to get his hands around her throat. The guy's gotta be a buck fifteen soaking wet."
"I'm not sure," Sam admitted. "Like I said, I heard something going on and by the time I got to the armory, she was running out. I don't know what she did to piss him off, but it must have been something big for him to forsake any protection we were willing to grant him."
Dean glanced over at the closed armory door and nodded his head distractedly at his brother's words before he glanced back up at him and opened his mouth before he closed it back up. His eyes narrowed in uncertainly at the ashen look on Sam's face. How had he not noticed that before? "You ok, man? You look kinda sick."
Sam flinched at his brother's concern. How did he always manage to do that? Their entire lives, Dean could always see through Sam like he was made of glass. He never had any secrets, because Dean would bust him before he could even revel in them. "What do you mean?"
"Hey, Jack! Jack…I think he's waking up," they heard Kate shout. Dean shook off his worry and shared a look with his brother before they both sprinted back into the bedroom just as Jack crossed in front of them to find out what had happened with Michael.
"Hey, Michael," Jack greeted him as he opened his eyes slightly.
"Jack?" Michael dazedly asked.
"Hey, man."
"Wait a minute..." Michael stammered as he sat up quickly. "How did I get...?"
"Whoa, take it easy, bro," Dean told him as he stepped forward to try to calm him down. "You're back in the hatch with us. We found you out in the jungle last night."
Michael digested Dean's words with a timid nod before his face scrunched up in pain. "Oh, my head."
John appeared at Sam's side and studied the scene before him as Michael glanced up at him in acknowledgement. "Welcome back, Michael," he announced genuinely.
Hey, John…I found them," Michael told him. "After I left, I hiked North back to where we were being held," he stopped and glanced over at Sam and nodded his head. "I hiked to the beach…followed the shore line. A day later I saw one."
"One of the Others?" Sam asked.
Michael nodded his head as Locke looked pensive for several moments at the information Michael had shared. "What did he look like?"
"He was dirty, worn clothing, no shoes…simple," Michael explained. "Just like the rest of them." He slowly sat up further and swung his legs to one side of the cot as he held his head in his hands.
"Like the rest of them?" Jack asked.
"Yeah, his people…the Others," Michael explained. "I followed him back to his camp. They live in tents…canvas tents and teepees. They eat dried fish. They're worse off than we are."
Dean thought back to the last encounter they'd had with the Others. They had weapons. Modern weapons. And Kate had told him and Jack about the costumes and fake beards she and Claire had found in the abandoned hatch. There was no way they could be worse off than they were. They'd been on this island longer. They had to have improved their situation in that time. It was basic survival.
"How many of them were there?" Kate asked.
"I counted twenty two," Michael confirmed.
When the bearded man had shown his hand and lit up the torches that surrounded them, Dean had roughly estimated a dozen different fires. Maybe more, maybe less. That meant that the Others only had ten or so more people? That would have meant that they outnumbered them and they logically wouldn't stand a chance if they decided to cross that boundary line and get their people back. None of this seemed right.
"And, the boat?" Jack asked.
"I didn't see it," Michael told him ashamedly.
"What about Walt?" Dean asked.
Michael glanced up at him and ground his teeth together so hard that his jaw ticked. "What about Walt?"
"Did you find him?"
"No," Michael told them as he stared down at the floor in embarrassment. "But I know he's there. He has to be."
"What about everyone else they took?" Sam spoke up. "Cindy…did you see any other kids?"
Michael vehemently shook his head from side to side. "No, no, no kids, no. But I think they were in the same place as my boy," he told them. "They have a hatch."
Jack stared down at Michael for several moments as he crossed his arms over his chest. "How do you know that they..."
"There's a set of metal doors leading underground," Michael told him. "What else could it be? Especially on this island?"
Dean didn't know if he believed everything Michael had revealed to them. Jack seemed slightly guarded as well, but none of this sat well with him. "And you think that's where they're keeping the kids?"
"They keep it guarded 24/7. Two guards, two guns...and two guns is all I saw," Michael told them. "They're barely armed. Most of them are old and half of them are women. I wanted…I couldn't save him by myself. So I came back to tell you…tell you that we can take them. As soon as I get my strength back, I will take us back there. And we are going to get my boy back."
Dean, Sam and Jack stayed with Michael until he went back to sleep and then headed straight to the computer room where Locke had his shift at the button. He was writing something in a notebook as they entered and kept his attention focused on his task. "You were right," Jack announced.
Locke wrote a few more items in the notebook before he shut it and glanced up at each man. "Right about what?"
"About Henry…what Dean and Sayid did to him when he was first found. You were right," Jack admitted. "I don't like how you did it, but I shouldn't have gotten in your way."
"Well, you did what you thought was right at the time you thought it, Jack. I just hope that next time you decide to do something you include me," Locke told him. Dean wanted to laugh at the peaceful tone of his voice. Locke loved this. He was practically rolling around in the pile of his victory. "…and something tells me that's going to be soon."
"You heard Michael," Jack told him. "We can take them."
Dean traded a guarded look with his brother as Locke rubbed at the stubble on his cheek. "Our friend with the beard told us not to cross the line."
"Which we did last night," Dean reminded them. "Nothing happened."
"Exactly," Jack agreed. "These people are liars, John. And kidnappers. Why should we take their word on anything?"
A smile stretched across Locke's face as he stood up from his seat at the button. "I couldn't agree more. So, now what?"
"We find them," Dean spoke up. "We find them and we not only get our people back, but we make sure that they leave us alone for the rest of the time we're forced to live together on this island."
Each man nodded their head in agreement as they walked out of the computer room, grabbed their own backpack and began to load them up with supplies. Dear Lord, this meant another hike.
"Where are you going?" Kate asked when she walked into the kitchen area.
"Gather a few more people," Jack answered. "Sawyer, Sayid…maybe Ana Lucia."
"Not Ana Lucia," Dean told them. They all turned to look at him and he shrugged as he held his hands up in surrender. "I talked to her earlier when we got back and she wasn't feeling that well. Might be best to leave her out of this one."
Sam narrowed his eyes at his brother's lie as Dean shot him a look to stay quiet. He could only nod at the silent request. "Ok, we can do this without her. Sam, what about you? You in?"
Sam glanced back at the computer he had been watching before Locke and shrugged his shoulders before he nodded his head. "I'm in, but who's gonna watch the button?"
"I got it," Dean spoke up. Everyone shot him a surprised look as he rolled his eyes and shook his head. "I know I haven't kept it a secret that I don't like it down here, but even an idiot like me can handle typing in 4-8-15-16-23-42 and hitting execute. I've got this."
"No, it's not that," Jack denied.
"Hell yeah it is," Sam spoke up. "You hate it down here."
"I'll be fine," Dean told him. "I can handle this and besides, it's not like I have to go on every single hike. I'm ok to sit this one out."
"I kinda thought you'd be one of the first to volunteer for this," Jack admitted. "Hell, I kinda thought you'd be there in case we need help convincing Sawyer to come with us."
Dean shook his head around a sigh as he nodded over at Michael. "Even if that damn button wasn't a factor, I'd wanna stay here and keep an eye on Michael, just in case he wakes back up." Dean waited a few moments for his words to sink in before he continued. "Besides, I really don't think Sawyer'll need much convincing to go after the bastards that shot him. You got this, especially if Sam comes with you."
Jack let out a chuckle as he nodded his head and patted Dean on the shoulder. "Ok. If Michael wakes up, try to keep him calm and make sure he stays seated or laid down."
Dean nodded his understanding as Sam stopped in front of his brother and adjusted the straps on his backpack. "Man, are you sure about this?"
"Course I am," Dean told him with a smile. "Go with them to get the guns we have stashed from the armory, watch your back out there and make sure to give Sawyer my best."
"Alright, we'll be back soon," Sam promised him.
The hatch was even worse for Dean when he was one of the only people inside. He'd made that point known from the moment they had opened it up and descended into it. It felt alive in here. Despite his obvious discomfort, Dean waited several moments after everyone left before he opened the armory door and stood at the threshold. He placed one of his knives on the ground and kicked it over to Henry who could only stare at the weapon in confusion.
"It would be in your best interest to pick that up and use it to cut yourself loose," Dean motioned down to the knife.
"What?"
"Just do it," Dean told him.
"Why?"
"I think you know why," Dean admitted with a wry smile.
Henry reached down and grabbed the knife to cut at his bonds while Dean watched him closely. "Jack won't be too happy about what's gonna go down here, but if he thinks you got free and attacked someone else, I'm sure he'll be willing to forgive me. Especially when he finds out that this wasn't your first attack of the day."
"This is about Ana Lucia?" Henry asked incredulously.
"Probably not a good idea to say her name so casually," Dean advised him. "Especially in front of me."
"He did tell me that you were tempestuous at best," Henry admitted with a grumble. "From what I've been told of your upbringing, it makes complete sense, though."
Dean didn't want to feed into anything this man said or did to hold off on his execution, but he couldn't help it. How stupid was this man to bring up his upbringing in a negative manner? "What the hell are you talking about?" Dean asked.
"I'm talking about your father," Henry managed to say so matter-of-factly that Dean couldn't help but feel like the tables had been turned without him even realizing it.
"Screw you," Dean hissed. "You don't know shit about my father."
"I don't, huh?" Henry's smirk grew as Dean's jaw and empty fist clenched at his smug position. "Let's see…an ex-marine who raised his kids on the road in cheap motels and backwoods cabins." Henry crossed his arms over his chest as he smirked at the expression on Dean's face. "It all sounds like real paramilitary survivalist type, if you ask me. But, then again, the nature of Mary's death is plenty of reason to adopt that lifestyle, isn't it?"
"Don't talk about my mother or my father," Dean snapped at him.
"Or what?" Henry's smirk grew. "I'm pretty sure your earlier rage has dissipated to make room for curiosity."
"I don't care what public records you have access to or how you got them," Dean told him lowly. "All's I care about is making sure you're six feet under."
"If you meant that, I'd already be dead," Henry told him. "I'm the person that also knows a great deal about young Sammy," he reminded him. "I'm pretty sure Ethan wasn't able to divulge all of the details, but I know enough to know that his importance to a certain individual is substantial."
"Who?" Dean asked as he lowered his gun.
"I don't think you're aware of how leverage actually works, young man, but I don't intend to show my cards to the man that's threatening my life on some petty revenge kick," Henry informed Dean as he sat back down on his seat and leaned back casually. "Of course, a hunter with a GED level education…well, this is my shocked face."
"Hey, where is everybody?" Michael asked from across the hatch. He shuffled into the dining area, clutching his head in pain as he took note of the lack of people in the hatch from earlier.
Dean looked up from the lone bullet in his hand and tried his best to care that Michael was up and about while still injured. His insides felt so twisted at the information Henry had shared that he thought he might actually be physically sick. It had been half an hour since he'd confronted Henry and he still couldn't wrap his mind around it. He could see the monster behind Henry's eyes. He knew deep in his gut that Henry was a bad person, but there were too many 'what-ifs' in play for him to actually kill him. "You know Jack…they're all Avengers assembling. He wants to take advantage of the information you shared about the other side."
"What do you mean assembling?" Michael asked.
"They're gathering up the guns we stashed when the armory became occupied," Dean explained to him.
"What do you mean occupied?" Michael asked.
"Oh, you've been gone, that's right," Dean murmured. "About a week back, Rousseau caught one of those bastards in a net and we've had him locked up in the armory ever since."
Michael glanced over at the armory door as his eyes lit up in interest. "You've just been keeping him prisoner this entire time?"
"Pretty much," Dean confirmed. "Jack had an idea to use him for a trade, maybe for your son, but after today…"
"What happened today?"
Dean let out a deep sigh before he looked up at Michael, his face a mixture of rage and frustration. "Earlier today, he attacked Ana."
"So you're what…?" Michael asked as he motioned down to his gun. "Gonna take care of him before he gets to anyone else?"
"That was the plan, yeah," Dean confirmed. "He's a shrewd bastard, though. I'm trying to regroup before I plan my next move."
Michael cocked a confused eyebrow as Dean leaned back in his seat and rubbed a tired hand over his face. "So, what's with the gun? Are you taking care of him?" Michael asked again.
"Oh man, do I want to," Dean growled. "He attacked Ana Lucia…tried to kill her from what I've gathered. I'd love to put a bullet between his eyes, but then he's just a useless asshole and we're no closer to getting answers from their side," Dean explained. "I mean, they have your son and they want my brother. Why?"
"How do you know they want Sam?" Michael asked.
"Ethan taunted me with that information right before Charlie took care of him," Dean explained. "Unfortunately, he died before I could get any more information from him."
Michael moved from foot to foot as he seemed to consider his options. "Look, I need you to trust me on this," he began. "They're animals. I've seen these people and they are animals. They took my son…right out of my hands…they took my son and…let me take him."
"Let you take him? What do you mean?" Dean asked.
"I mean get him away from our side and let me take him to them and get my son back. Give me your gun and walk away. I'll handle the entire thing and you can stay here with your brother and help keep our side safe," Michael explained. "And, if I can, maybe I can get you some answers while I have him." Dean glanced down at his own gun before his gaze landed on the closed armory door. "Come on, man. How far would you go to get your family back?"
Dean knew how far he would go. He'd sell his own soul if it meant that Sam and his father were alive and safe. With a sigh and a nod, he handed over his gun and stood up from his seat. He hoped he hadn't just made a huge error. He hoped the Others would be willing to make a trade for their man. He hoped that Michael got his son back. Most of all, he hoped that Michael could pry the answers out of that asshole that Dean had been unable to.
"Combination's eighteen right, one left, thirty one right," he resignedly told him. "As much as I'd love the contrary, don't kill him unless he forces you to. They're gonna want him back alive before they give up Walt."
Michael stayed rooted to his spot and stared down at the gun in his hands as Dean patted him on the shoulder and turned to walk away from him. He stopped at the door and listened for Michael to enter in the combination for the armory, but heard nothing. "For the record, I am sorry." Michael spoke up.
Dean turned back around, his brow furrowed as he tilted his head in confusion. "For what?"
Michael raised Dean's gun, pointed it directly at him and pulled the trigger as a loud shot rang out through the hatch. The bullet landed in Dean's chest with enough force to throw him back into the wall behind him. A loud crack sounded in his ears as his head connected hard with the cement as he heard another gunshot go off. He barely registered it over the pain he was in.
Stars blazed across his vision and he slowly collapsed to the floor as a trail of blood from the new wound in his head followed him down the wall. The last thing he remembered before he lost consciousness was how he couldn't help but think how strange it was that there was no blood soaking through the hole in his shirt.
Author's Note: Whew. This chapter has been written for like a month and had a completely different ending. I didn't like it. At all. So, I rewrote it and now I'm quite pleased with what I have. I'd like to give some thanks to acsgrlie, Endgame65, The Archivist613, Zgirl101, lexi-charmed, DancingWolves101 and thedarkpokemaster for your reviews of the last chapter. They seriously forced me to stop dragging my feet and get my ass in gear to post this chapter. I hope it's well received. We're a few chapters out from a conclusion and new story…so, there's that.