Calling in a Marker

By Criminally Charmed


Disclaimer – Not mine. But on Tuesday, I will own Season 4 on DVD. Yeah!

Chapter Twenty Eight

Sam Winchester blinked, surprised to realize that he had lost consciousness for a time. Feeling around, he hoped to find his flashlight or phone. Every time he moved, Sam had to force his stomach back down his throat. Between the pain in his head and the agony of his shoulder, Sam wasn't sure if he could go on…

What a weak, pitiful excuse for a human being. Sam looked up and saw the angel Uriel. You are an abomination and should be erased from all existence.

Tears welled up in Sam's eyes. He wanted to deny the angel's words but his guilt and self-doubt tore at the younger Winchester.

Sam looked down at the ground, waiting for the angel to claim his life. Maybe if Dean didn't have to protect Sam all the time, from evil – and himself – then maybe the world had a chance…

Samuel?

The voice called his name again. Samuel? He looked up to see not Uriel but a young woman with light brown hair and bright blue eyes. Samuel? Uriel is not here. He never was. In fact, he is not going to be around you or Dean ever again. I promise.

"Do I know you?" Sam whispered weakly.

The vision smiled. Samuel, your mother used to promise that angels were watching over her boys and she was right. You must understand, angels cannot interfere with the greatest gift the Father gave His human children – free will. We cannot save you from your own follies. The choice your mother made, all those years ago, has affected your entire life. But I promise you – I have been trying to temper the affects of that choice.

"What, like the good fairies in Sleeping Beauty?" Sam muttered.

A laugh that sounded like bells ringing in the wind echoed in the cavern. Trust me, Samuel – I am a little more, shall we say, kick butt, than some oversized butterfly. Now, come a bit closer. Your flashlight is over here.

Crawling towards the vision in front of him, Sam's hand reached out and grasped a cylinder shaped object. He sighed in relief. His flashlight. "So, you gonna hang out here for a while? Dean might show up. You angels seem to like him better."

Smiling, Sam felt her hand sweep over his face, but it was more like feathers brushing over his skin. God loves all His children, Samuel. And never forget the story Jim used to read to you about the shepherd and his lost lamb. Have faith and you will be led home. The angel looked up and smiled. Dean needs some help in finding you. But there are those who will be coming to help him. Do not despair, Samuel.

"Wait," Sam muttered as he maneuvered himself into a sitting position opposite where he had been earlier. "Who are you?"

Sam thought she wasn't going to answer for a moment before he heard a voice whisper in his ear. You can call me Gabby…Now rest, Samuel. Help is coming soon.

Then Sam was alone once more…


Alan was curious when his father paged him to the office. It had nothing to do with the Thunderbirds, he was sure, as his brothers had not moved and were all gathered out on the patio with their families. For the last few years, they had made a habit of gathering at this time before dinner so as to discuss the events of the day and pull the family close. Alan was equally sure it had nothing to do with Tracy Enterprises as he was no longer working for the Boston office as he had donewhile attending college and he was not due to begin his work under the corporate headquarters R&D until next month, since his father had felt that, between his new marriage and graduating with honors for dual degrees in Engineering and English, he needed a break. The first degree was for work with both family businesses and the second was in regards to his writing career.

And, Alan chuckled to himself, Dad never tries to interfere in my sci-fi stories.

Well, not since Alan had threatened to name a Martian warlord Jefferson.

Coming up on the office doorway, Alan rested against it and watched his father as he leaned back in his desk chair, a stylus tapping on his chin, a data pad seemingly forgotten in front of him. The youngest Tracy son smiled, recalling his wife and sisters-in-law teasing him when he would assume a similar position when he was lost in thought. Alan might most physically resemble Lucy Tracy but out of all their children, Jeff had – with Scott's and his mother's help – raised Alan since he was three as a single parent. This had, for better or worse, made Alan a great deal like his father in many ways.

Which is one reason we use to argue so much, Alan recalled with a fond chuckle.

His son's soft laughter drew Jeff's attention to the doorway. Smiling at his youngest, Jeff motioned Alan into the room. When the younger man sat on the couch instead of one of the chairs near the desk, the Tracy patriarch's smile grew, especially when Alan patted the cushion next to him. Rising from his chair, Jeff joined his son on the sofa.

"Alan…" Jeff's voice trailed off as he wondered how to approach the topic. Drawing on his will, he softly sighed and decided to plunge straight ahead. "Alan, I overheard you talking to Kyrano earlier."

It broke Jeff's heart to see how quickly his baby boy closed himself off, as if he were bracing himself for rejection or condemnation. "Allie, I am sorry. I'm sorry my anger towards the Hood made you think I could ever reject you or be angry at you for something that is a natural part of you. John and I were talking about it and he pointed out that you have often been able to tell when a family member was at risk. Now, I am not about to claim I understand what is going on with you, but know this – I love you. You are my son, my baby, the last gift that Lucy gave me. I always have known that each of my boys was special…"

"It's not as bad as the Hood, Dad," Alan interrupted. "It's more like, I don't know, just bad feelings and sometimes some weird dreams. I can't explain it."

"And you don't have to, Alan," Jeff assured his son, pulling him closer as he put an arm around Alan. "But if you are concerned because of any odd feelings or dreams, I want you tocome to me. I won't claim to understand how this could happen. But you are my son and I never want any of you boys to feel as if you can't come to me about anything. Got it?"

The Tracys smiled at each other, and Jeff pulled his son into a full hug, both men relieved that they could overcome fears and doubts, secure in the knowledge that love really could conquer any problems that they would face, and they would face them together...


Mitchell Russo glared at the younger man talking with the sheriff from Bailey. As head of the Kansas State Office of Emergency Management, his word was supposed to be law in cases like this. But it appeared that neither the sheriff nor any of the other emergency workers were listening to Russo at the moment. Instead, Dean Winchester had their attention as he helped with maps and the gathering of all possible information.

Nearby, a deputy from Bailey was trying various radio frequencies, working to raise International Rescue. The knowledge that the Thunderbirds would come at the request of the disheveled younger man had given hope to the others gathered at the site while only to further serve the ire of Russo. Dean Winchester, he growled in his head. The boy didn't look much like John but he did have the look of Mary Campbell.

Mary Campbell. The prettiest girl to ever come to Russo's hometown of Lawrence, Kansas. She had only been there a short time when John Winchester returned from the Marines. Mary had taken one look at the young veteran and it seemed as if the rest of the male population of Lawrence had vanished from sight. After the scandal that followed her parents' deaths – some whispered it had been a murder/suicide while others claimed that the Campbells had been in Witness Protection and the mob had caught up with them – Mitchell had wondered if the blonde would leave town. Instead, she and John had moved into his grandmother's old house, marrying shortly afterwards. Mary had worked for a time as a cashier while John held down a job as a mechanic. When their son was born, Mary had become a stay-at-home mother.

Russo had left town, unwilling to live with the daily vision of domestic bliss.

He had been working in California when word came to him of the tragedy that had befallen the Winchesters. By the time Russo had found an excuse to return to Lawrence, John Winchester had vanished into the wind, taking his two young sons with him. Mitchell Russo had no idea what had happened since then, but when he heard the younger man's name, he knew instantly whose son this was. Dean. Mary's mother had been Deanna. And he had referred to his brother as "Sammy". Mary's father's name was Samuel Campbell. They would have been named for their maternal grandparents as John had held no great love for his own. John's mother had abandoned him as a small boy and his father was a violent drunk. If not for his grandparents, who doted on their only child's son, it was doubtful he would have grown up at all.

Part of Russo wanted to ask where John was. But then he had seen the ring on Mary's oldest boy. It was the wedding ring Mary had given John. The man would have only given that up over his dead body.

So…He guessed that meant John Winchester was dead as well.

Once Mitchell Russo had gotten over that, he wondered if it made any sense to hold onto his unresolved anger. After all, John had never even known that Mitchell was in love with Mary. God knows, Mary never seemed to know he was even alive once she met John. And their sons – one of whom was still trapped in the caves, his very life at risk – didn't even know that he had once been acquainted with their parents. He had no reason to resent them at all.

Yeah, right.

Dean looked up from the map he was helping to draw to the radio operator. "Hey, um…"

"Ken," Jean said helpfully.

"Yeah, Ken. Try just one channel. As I understand it, the Thunderbirds monitor most channels, but you have to stay on one for them to pick it up."

The kid – Dean swore he shouldn't be legal to head into bar fights to break up any – nodded and picked one, renewing his calls for help. Sighing, the elder Winchester brother looked over at the guy from the state and shook his head. "Any idea what his major malfunction is? The man seems to hate my guts."

Bobby allowed himself a small smile. "Yeah, Dean. Most people get to know you before they dislike you." At Dean's glare, Bobby nudged him. "Can't help it. There are times you are too much like your Daddy."

Suddenly, behind them, the radio was giving the long-awaited response. A woman's voice could be heard: "This is International Rescue. What is your emergency?"


Sarah had practically had to force the others in the family to allow her to take her shift monitoring for International Rescue. The back-up system was being used since Brains was still up on Thunderbird Five and that bird was currently off-line while the communications system was being updated.

Updated, Sarah snorted. Updates take a few hours. Brains had thrown himself into the project and was virtually rebuilding the system. Jeff had offered to transfer Professor Hackenbacker to the States so that man could be closer to the his only son, Fermat. But Brains had declined. His life was here on Tracy Island. And Fermat was building his own life in California. Thinking of her toddler, Michael, and the baby she currently carried in her womb, Sarah wondered if she could handle it if – and probably when – one of her children chose a life away from Tracy Island.

Fingering one of the family pictures on a nearby credenza, Sarah smiled. She could recall when Alan went off to college. All of the family, especially Jeff and Scott, had taken it hard. It had been different than when the "baby" had returned to his boarding school. Then, they had been sure he would come home. But when he went off to Harvard, there had been some concern about Alan making a life of his own away from the Island.

Chuckling, Sarah knew that had been ridiculous. Alan had been happy having time as "Alan" and not as "Jeff Tracy's son" or "Name the Tracy's Brother". But the youngest son needed his family as much as they needed him. She had never doubted he would make his home here on the Island as well.

"Calling International Rescue. We are calling for International Rescue," the communications system blared out with a cry for help, and Sarah sat down at the console.

"This is International Rescue. What is your emergency?" Sarah calmly gave the standard response, logging onto the computer to enter all data as it was given. The more information they had going into a rescue, the more successful they tended to be.

"Hot damn! Hey Sheriff! It actually worked! I got them."

Sarah rolled her eyes. As long as the Tracys had been the Thunderbirds, how many times had people responded like that? John was fond of saying that if he had a dollar for every time someone said something like "This actually works", he would be richer than his father.

Another voice came on. "This is Sheriff Landman, from Bailey, Kansas. There was a collapse of some caves in a state park on the outskirts of town. We have six people trapped. State Emergency Management says that they can't get to them in time. Between the chance of oxygen running out and some chemicals that were illegally stored in one of the caves…well, we just don't have the technology or training to save those folks."

"How did the Mystery Hills Caves collapse?" Sarah blurted out, shocked.

In the dead silence, the young woman had hoped she did not have the connection open and Jeannie hadn't heard her. That hope was dashed when the law officer responded. "How did you know the name of the caves?"

Damn, pregnancy kills brain cells. Sarah believed Kate was right about that one. Thinking on her feet – kinda – she calmly answered, "I have been entering the data as you have given it. There is only one state park that connects to Bailey, Kansas and it only has one set of caves. Or am I mistaken?"

"Nah, you got it right, Red."

Sarah broke into a smile. Dean!

"Dean! Leave you to be in the middle of trouble. Um, nothing you did, right?"

A soft chuckle could be heard and gave some relief on both sides of the communication. "Nope, Red. Can't pin this one on me. An idiot blew up some chemicals that had been illegally stored in one of the closed off caves. That caused the collapse. The complication is that some other chemicals that were stored there are, well, something happened to their state and now they are gonna turn into a cloud of poison gas. To make things worse, I got out but there are a family hiking through here who got caught. Four men, one woman. Ages ranging from early twenties to maybe thirty-something. We don't know if they are hurt or even alive."

"Dean," Sarah asked gently, "the sheriff said there were six people trapped. Who is the sixth?" She had to ask, but Sarah was afraid she knew.

A haggard breath could be heard before Dean answered. "Red, Sam is in there. My baby brother. Red, I helped you guys last year. The commander's son is alive and you said, he said, that you guys owed me. I'm calling you on that. Please…Save my baby brother. Save Sam for me."

Sarah had seen how much Dean had loved his younger brother. Just like the Tracys with Alan, she doubted the man could go on without Sam.

"Dean, I am texting you a link. Have them send us everything they have – info on the chemicals, schematics, photos. We'll be there soon, I promise." On the other end, she could hear her friend's sigh of relief.

Cutting off the communication, Sarah slammed her hand onto the alert button. Thunderbirds are go!


As Dean sagged with relief, leaning against Bobby in a rare moment of weakness, Jean frowned. It was going to bug her now…But she could swear she knew that voice. Jean had a true gift for never forgetting a face but voices also came easy for her. It was a useful skill in law enforcement.

Well, she would worry about that later. Billy had called ahead, needing clearance to get past the barriers they had set up to keep the media and others who salivated at the scent of blood back as far as possible. Her husband had warned her though…Miss Millie was coming. The good news was that they would have decent food and coffee until the situation was resolved. The bad news?

Sigh. She loved her Mama, but the woman firmly believed that the whole world needed mothering. Then Jean looked at Dean. His fear, his frustration and forced bravado were rotating in their struggle for dominance on the hunter's face. Maybe some people needed mothering more than others…


The Tracys – even the ones who weren't in International Rescue – piled into Command and Control. Sarah explained the basics of the rescue, not mentioning the location or the Winchesters' involvement yet. Her statement leading into that did, however, shock everyone.

"As Alan is primary back-up for Thunderbird One, I think he needs to head in to set up the Field Command."

Scott looked both offended and surprised. "Sarah, that is MY 'bird. Alan can fly her if I am physically unable or not here. I am both here and capable of flying my own 'bird."

Sarah stared at Scott for a moment before turning to Jeff. "The rescue is in Bailey. Jeannie Bates in on site."

"Jeannie Bates?" Kate said, trying to recall where she heard the name before.

"Jeannie Landman," John said helpfully.

Kate nodded. "Yeah, that could be a problem. Alan will have changed enough so that it would be hard for most people in Bailey to recognize him. Gordon would be questionable but with the Olympics and all…"

"Which," Gordon answered cheerfully, "lets me sit back and not have to deal with major bull…loney?" He grinned at his father's frown. The daughters-in-law just smirked. The sons still knew to watch their language around their father.

Turning from his forth son, Jeff nodded. "It's a good call, Sarah. Alan, take One and start the set-up. Boys, load the Thunderizer and the Mole into Two. Sarah, send all the info to Two once it is sent by…Hey, who did you say was sending the information? Is it Jeannie?"

Shaking her head solemnly. "No. It will be Dean. Sam is among those trapped in the cave-in. We owe the Winchesters so much, Dad. We need to do this one."

All of the Tracys nodded. They knew it was because of the Winchesters that they still had Alan, that they still had their family. It was time to make sure Dean didn't lose the only family he had left. This would be one of their most important rescues for that reason. But they also knew that the chances of others discovering their secret had never been greater. For this reason, cave-ins and chemicals aside, this could be one of the most dangerous rescues they had ever been on.

Scott clasped Alan on the shoulder and nudged him to his portrait. The youngest Thunderbird had always followed their lead, but due to the rescue's locale, he would have to take the lead. When his portrait closed, Scott looked at his wife and father for a moment before heading to his own portrait. The kid would do fine.

After all, like Jeff had said more than once about Alan, when the others feared he could not meet a challenge:

"He's a Tracy."


A/N - As I said, i will update as often as I can. My Dad had surgery and I can't visit him at the moment. I have a cold and the last thing he needs at the moment is to be exposed to germs. So thanks for your kind words and I hope you will show patinece with me. I refuse to give up on the story. So don't give up on me...CC