Payment in Kind

Disclaimer - For an even dozen, see chapter one...


Chapter Twelve

"OK," Sam mused. "First things, first. We need to find out who sent the punisher idol to Alan."

Dean nodded, then asked his sibling, "Hey, what name did you give the cops at the office?"

Sam raised his eyes to his brother, stiffening. "Me? I thought you talked to the cops?"

Alan was already making himself comfortable in front of the computer. "I told the cops that you were Dean and Sam Winchester, friends of my brothers, Scott and Virgil. I also said that you had been traveling and you decided to stop in Boston for a while to catch up. That I had been having some issues and you offered to look into it based on your friendship with the Tracy family."

"And they bought it?" Dean asked, incredulous. "They didn't run our names?"

Turning a puzzled look at the brothers, Alan shrugged. "Of course they did. Nice clean records. Concealed carry permits signed off on and a security note from Tracy Enterprises. It's why they didn't ask if I wanted police protection, they assumed my family had hired you."

Sam slowly turned back to Dean. "Whoa. Kate Tracy said she could plant the virus. I just…well, I…"

Dean looked at Alan. "OK, are you telling me an Ex-FBI agent has that kind of access to their main computer? That says a lot for National Security, doesn't it?"

Alan shrugged. "Well, Kate does handle a lot of the government contracts. Either that or she just went to visit her father."

"Her father?" Sam inquired; a sinking feeling in his stomach.

Grinning, Alan focused on his laptop. "Yeah, her father is the Director of the FBI. And I wouldn't be surprised if she had told him. I remember at Sarah and Virgil's wedding, she said something about "cookies from the dark side"." He shook his head, looking pensive before returning his attention to the computer. "Sometimes, the Elders make little to no sense."

Sam grabbed a chair, pulling up next to Alan. "So what are you looking for, anyhow? I was already able to determine that Jackson Mitchell was buried next to his father in Providence, Rhode Island."

Not looking up, Alan responded. "I wanted to see if the authorities have any early information on the incident at the office. Ah, here we go. Preliminary results from the medical examiner's office." Looking up, he smiled at the shocked looks on the brothers' faces. "By the way, I am a bit of a hacker. Actually, I am a very good hacker. Not bad for a goody-two-shoes, huh, Dean?"

If it wasn't for the seriousness of the situation, Sam would have laughed at the look on his older brother's face. Dean wasn't often taken by surprise, but he definitely was this time. Just who was Alan Tracy, anyhow?


Back on Tracy Island, the family had showered and changed following a rescue in the Middle East. The debriefing was in full swing when Emily awkwardly rose to her feet in order to check on her daughter and the other children being watched over by Kyrano in the smaller house she shared with John. Maneuvering through the kitchen, Emily smiled and nodded at the instruction from Onaha that lunch would be in a few hours.

Emily entered her home, quietly waving to Kyrano in an attempt for her daughter, Elizabeth, not to notice her while the older man read a story to Jason and his cousin. Michael and DJ were sleeping soundly in Elizabeth's room. Emily started to mouth "lunchtime" to Kyrano when black spots began to dance in front of her eyes. Seeinh her clutching desperately at the door frame, Kyrano took note of her distress and sent the older children in to rest with their younger counterparts until lunch. As the alarm on her blood pressure monitor began to squeal, Emily barely noticed as Kyrano grabbed her, holding her gently in his arms as he lowered her to the floor. She never heard Sarah or Virgil arrive and begin to immediately treat her. Emily was unaware of Dad ordering Scott to fire up Thunderbird Three to retrieve John from the space station – which would have to be placed on automatic for a time – or Kate rushing to get Tracy One prepped for an emergency flight to Auckland. The newest Tracy was on its way, but from the frantic care being given, the survival of both mother and child was in doubt.


"Ooh. Gross." Alan muttered.

"What is it, Alan?" Sam asked, pulling a chair closer while Dean stood by, cleaning a shotgun.

"OK, according to the preliminary ME's report, Judith Cofrell's blood vessels all burst at the same time in her skull. The resulting failure appeared to be the reason for a disruption in her cerebral cortex, allowing for a raised body temperature in an area restricted to her cranium."

Seeing Alan and Sam's mutual looks of disgust, Dean finally jumped into the silence. "Hey, how about an English translation for the rest of us?"

Sam and Alan looked at each other once more before Sam told his brother, "The blood in her cranium boiled or overheated. Basically, her brain melted."

Dean set down the shotgun and leaned heavily onto the nearby couch. Staring at the two younger men in shocked silence, he finally summed up all their thoughts.

"Oh, man. That is just plain gross."


After reading the medical examiner's preliminary report – Dean chuckled at the head examiner's commentary of "Go back and review the results. This is not a Freddy Krueger movie script." – Alan abruptly got up to get a cup of coffee. When he failed to return after a few minutes, Dean got up to check on him while Sam called Bobby to check on a few more facts about the punisher idol.

Dean stood in the doorway of the kitchen watching Alan silently for a moment. The youngest of the Tracy Brothers was standing by a single cup coffee maker, clutching desperately at the counter. At first, Dean didn't think Alan even knew he was there. That illusion was shattered when Alan spoke.

"Do you think I deserve this, Dean?"

Moving closer, Dean shook his head. "No, kid, I can't say you do. OK, so you are a bit too straight and narrow for my comfort, but most people who seem good on the outside are usually some of the biggest sinners you would ever meet. But they have most of the world snowed so if there is ever justice, it's not on this Earth. You? Far as I can tell about you, kid, is that you walk the walk and talk the talk. You really do believe in that Golden Rule stuff, don't ya?"

Alan smiled slightly. "My father raised us to believe that we truly are our brothers' keepers. If we don't try to make the world a better place, it will only get worse. But if we can help a hundred people, maybe ten will be inspired to help someone else in turn."

Typically cynical, Dean shook his head. "So you help a hundred. And only ten more get helped after that. What's that get you?"

Smiling wider, Alan was more relaxed as he responded. "A hundred and ten people whose lives are better because someone cared enough to help."

Cocking his head, Dean gave the twenty-one year old an appraising look before surprising Alan with a smile of approval. He looked like he wanted to say something when Sam burst into the kitchen.

"Dean! Alan! Bobby found something. Seems that particular idol was part of a private collection. It was "obtained" a few months back by someone representing an anonymous buyer. Seems it was one of Bela's last capers before the Hellhounds got her." Dean looked intrigued while Alan looked appalled.

"Hellhounds?" he whispered faintly. "Like the ones that seek out and punish people? They are real, too?"

Both brothers paled, with Dean's hands subconsciously moving over his stomach and chest, as if feeling for scars that weren't there. "Yeah," Dean muttered. "They are real."


A/N - Yeah, it has been, what...a week? But the mall hours got extended, I am still working my main job, trying to get everything ready for Christmas, we had a major ice storm (I never lost power but had friends and family did so...guess who had to help.) and...aw, hell, I also had some writer's block. But I am getting back into the swing. So, enjoy and review...PLEASE!!! - CC