17 - Adler's Angelic Revival

Hannah pulled in to what looked like an empty fairground. This time of year, everything was shuttered and, unfortunately, muddy. Fortunately their apparent destination, a large RV, was right next to where they parked.

Just looking at the RV was setting off a series of alarm bells in Jimmy's mind. He didn't want to go in. He wasn't sure why, but the sense of deja vu was strong. So was his anxiety. It had ratcheted up from a 4 to about a 7. When the air conditioning unit on the trailer rattled to life he jumped.

"Come on, Emmanuel," Hannah ordered. She was once again pulling on his arm, trying to drag him into the RV. "Zachariah is waiting."

"C-can he maybe come out here?" Jimmy asked. Even his voice was trembling.

She gave him a flat look. "In the mud? You know how much he hates to ruin his shoes. Why do you think he didn't come with us?" She tugged on him again. "Come on. He's waiting."

Somewhere inside of that RV, the answers to his questions about his past were waiting. All he had to do was go into it. But his feet seemed frozen in place.

Impatient, Hannah tugged harder. When he still didn't move, she got behind him and pushed. The pressure on his injured wing made him hiss. "Ow!"

"Would you please move?" Hannah's voice now had its own touch of anxiety.

He didn't want to go inside. But he had to. It was the only way to learn what he'd come all this way to learn. Besides, he reasoned, he knew he could fight. If things went south, he'd be able to break his way out of this trailer easily. The door looked like a flimsy thing. Nothing about the RV seemed designed with a serious fight in mind.

Alright. He could do this. With Hannah still close behind him, Jimmy took a deep breath and entered the RV.

Hannah hadn't been familiar, but Zachariah Adler was. The moment he'd entered the ordinary-looking RV, Jimmy had recognized Adler as the man whose face he'd been obsessively drawing. Adler was seated at a table in the RV. Absently, Jimmy had thought to himself that the vehicle wasn't nearly as large inside as it had seemed outside. Adler was enjoying a hearty meal of steak and potatoes with a glass of what looked like wine. A second place setting was across the table, food cooling. That was odd. Jimmy thought Hannah had said the two of them had been made aware of his location, which was why Hannah had gone to pick him up. Maybe they'd only cooked enough for two? Jimmy wasn't hungry anyway, but it seemed a little rude. Next to Adler's food, a small plastic device rested near his hand. The closest approximation Jimmy had for it was one of the drills he'd seen his friends using when they'd worked in Bobby's garage, but it didn't seem to have a drill bit. Instead, it had a square head that appeared to be detachable. Jimmy had no idea what it was or what it could be for.

Overall, Adler seemed harmless enough. Jimmy had no doubt he'd be able to beat the man, should things become violent, even without his enhanced strength. But something about Adler caused a chill to go down Jimmy's spine. He wasn't sure why.

He wasn't given much time to think about it. Adler looked up and brightened as Jimmy and Hannah entered the RV. "Emmanuel," Adler had declared, getting up to embrace Jimmy. "The prodigal son returns! Welcome home."

Jimmy submitted to the embrace, but remained standing stiffly. "I'm not your son," he said cooly. "And I'm not home."

"Ah, but you are, and you are," Adler corrected. The man had been eating when Hannah and Jimmy arrived. Now he returned to his table and his meal, gesturing for Hannah to join him. "I'm the only father you've ever known, remember? And this is the only home you've ever had." He pointed to the seat next to the other place setting. "Sit down, take a load off."

Hannah had meekly gone to her place at the table, but Jimmy remained as he was. He stood with his arms crossed, frowning down at Adler. "I don't remember," Jimmy corrected. "I don't remember anything."

"The amnesia's apparently real," Hannah said. She'd suddenly gone quiet and submissive in a way Jimmy hadn't seen before now. "I imagine that's why he didn't come home sooner."

"Well, no matter." Adler took another bite, washed it down with a bit of wine, and turned to Jimmy. "I understand you've been going by Jimmy Novak, but he's been dead for years now. His identity came in handy for you a lot, though, so I suppose he lives on in that fashion. Your name is Emmanuel Allen. You're a mutant, obviously. Because of that, you were cast out, abandoned. I took you in when no one else would have you. Since that day, I have raised you, cared for you, and protected you."

"And locked me away, and forced me to help you trick and rob people who were desperate to begin with." He was fighting to stay calm, but his mind was racing to absorb this new knowledge. Emmanuel, he thought. I finally know my real name. Hearing it from someone he recognized had finally made the name seem real. He was Emmanuel Allen. He'd expected the knowledge to be somewhat soothing. Instead, to his surprise, Emmanuel only felt more anxious. He was shifting his weight from foot to foot, watching every move Adler made as if the smaller, overweight man would attack him any moment. That made no sense. He'd been able to defend Dean against multiple much more dangerous opponents. So what was it about this man that had him feeling so on edge?

Adler had waved a hand, dismissing what Emmanuel felt were very valid concerns. "We have had our fights over the shows, it's true. I have no doubt the last one was why you ran away. Exactly how you got out was another story, although I cannot help but feel you had some help."

Hannah cringed, seeing Adler's eyes rest on her. She raised her hands in supplication. "Zachariah, I swear, I didn't do it on purpose. It was a mistake, I told you, I…"

"Shut up."

The words were spoken in the same calm, pleasant voice Adler had been using all along, but Hannah flinched as if she'd been shot. She immediately ducked her head.

Emmanuel's heart had started racing for some reason. What was happening? "It doesn't matter," he said, trying to keep his voice calm. "I know what you've been doing, what I've helped you to do. And it's over. We're going to the police, to turn ourselves in. It's time we paid for our crimes."

Adler looked up from his meal, surprised. Then he laughed, nearly spraying Emmanuel with food before he coughed and reached for his drink. "Oh my," he managed, drinking quickly to keep from choking. "When did you get so sassy?"

"When I found out what we've been doing. It ends now."

"Huh," Adler mused. He was eyeing Emmanuel with amusement, as though the winged man were a paid performer sent to entertain him. "Do you see this, Hannah? It seems our little angel thinks he's all grown up, that he can talk to me like that. It's kind of cute, isn't it?"

Hannah looked up, alarmed. "Zachariah, he's hurt. He lost his memory and doesn't know any better. I think…"

"No one cares what you think, Hannah," Adler interrupted, still calm. "You've never been one for thinking anyway."

Something about the way he spoke to Hannah, the way she immediately bowed her head again, and the words he'd used now triggered something in Emmanuel. He lowered his arms, clenching his fists as his anger rose, drowning out his anxiety. "I am not an angel, or a child," he said sternly. "I won't be used for your schemes any longer. Now get up, and come with me to the police. It's over."

"Oh, it's over?" Adler mused, dabbing at his lips with a napkin. "Huh. Nobody discussed anything with me."

"We're discussing it now."

"Are we?" Adler tossed the napkin on the table and looked up at Emmanuel. He still appeared somewhat amused. "Seems to me, you're doing a lot more demanding than you are discussing." He gestured again to the space next to Hannah, who was gingerly picking at her food with her eyes down. "Why don't you sit down, and we'll talk?"

"No. I'm sorry if you don't approve of how I am approaching this subject, but I'm afraid I'm very upset," Emmanuel explained with strained patience. "What we have done? It's hurt a lot of people."

"That so?"

"That's so," Emmanuel insisted. For some reason, Adler still looked amused. It was tempering Emmanuel's anger with another slight bit of unease. Still, he was determined. "Zachariah Adler," he announced, standing straight, "your con ends now."

"My con ends when I say it does," Adler replied cheerfully. "Not before. And no one, least of all some winged freak I took in off the streets, is going to tell me otherwise."

"Don't underestimate me," Emmanuel warned, trying to pretend the words hadn't hurt. "I may be a winged freak, but I'm far stronger than most people."

"Oh, I know," Adler replied, dismissing this with a lazy wave of his hand. "I know all about you, apparently more than you know about yourself. For instance, I know that, while you're physically stronger than most people? You have the same reaction to most stimuli."

Emmanuel narrowed his eyes, tilting his head in confusion. "Stimuli?"

"Sure. Like this, for example."

Adler had the small plastic device in his hand now. Emmanuel still had no idea what it was, or that it could do him harm. But suddenly two metal prongs shot out of the device. Then electricity was racing through Emmanuel's body, making him jerk and cry out in pain even as he fell heavily to the floor. Once the current subsided, he could do little besides lie, shaking, on the floor of the RV.

"Who the hell do you think you are?" Adler was yelling. He aimed a hard kick at Emmanuel's kidney, causing the winged man to yelp and curl up. "You stupid freak, I own you! You're nothing without me, do you hear me?" He kicked Emmanuel again. "Nothing!"

Hannah was up and at Adler's side. Now she clutched at his arm with both hands. "Zachariah, please," she pleaded. "He's hurt, and he's lost his memory. He doesn't remember his lessons, but we can teach him again, right? Let's just lock him up and…"

A harsh slap echoed in the RV. Hannah fell against the wall and slid down it, cradling her face with her hands. "Shut up!" Adler roared, all traces of amusement gone. "I can see with my own eyes that he's forgotten his lessons, Hannah. I don't need your stupid mouth telling me what I can see for myself."

"Don't hit her," Emmanuel had warned, pulling off the darts and trying to get back up on wobbly legs.

Adler moved rapidly, replacing the cartridge and firing. Once more, darts shot out. Before Emmanuel could react, the current flashed through him again. Emmanuel howled in agony, dropping once more. He couldn't move, couldn't breathe, couldn't think. He could only scream and writhe on the floor until it finally stopped.

"You always did have a high pain tolerance," Adler mused. "Good thing I've learned to be ready for your bullshit. I've upgraded my old cattle prod to a taser. You like it?"

Emmanuel couldn't answer. Fortunately, Adler wasn't looking for an answer. He was smiling, standing over Emmanuel's prone form with his finger on the trigger of the taser, ready to send more punishing current through the darts. "Now," Adler said, "I suggest you pay attention, because school is in session. It's time to officially re-learn your lessons. You listening?"

Emmanuel managed a small sound. He couldn't do much else.

"Lesson One," Adler was saying. His voice was calm and patient, as though explaining a difficult lesson to a poor student. "Never talk back to me. Ever. Nod if you understand."

Emmanuel had been trying to catch his breath once more. He barely forced a nod.

"Lesson Two. I own you. Completely. I decide where you go. What you do. Where you sleep. What, if anything, you eat. I decide where you take a shit, Emmanuel, and in the end? I decide exactly how long you keep breathing."

"Then kill me," Emmanuel groaned, "because I will never help you trick anyone else ever again."

He'd expected the current this time, but it didn't make it any easier. He'd been on the verge of losing consciousness when it finally stopped.

"You know, it's a good thing I just put fresh batteries in this thing," Adler mused, admiring the evil device in his hands. "The last few times you've tried your silly rebellion schtick, you've really required a lot of little love taps from the cattle prod. At least with the taser, I don't have to get too close to you. You used to smell terrible between shows towards the end, like stale sweat and used feather duster." He hummed. "You know, I almost believe you actually did lose your memory, Emmanuel. Because it seems like you've forgotten what happened the last time you decided you didn't want to be a good angel. Because you're not always a good angel, are you? No, there was one time in particular when you decided to be a very, very bad angel."

"I'm no angel," Emmanuel snarled, managing to brush the darts off again. Suddenly, he realized why it had smarted so much when Dean, still believing he was an angel, had called him a "bad angel." Clearly, there had been some sort of punishment associated with it that he hadn't quite remembered, but had still reacted to.

"Oh, see, there it is," Adler sighed. He was reloading the taser again, making Emmanuel wonder just how many of those stupid cartridges he had. But now he was turning towards a cringing Hannah. "There was one time when you were such a bad angel, it resulted in someone getting hurt. Badly. So tell me, Castiel. Are you a good angel?"

Emmanuel had managed his hands and knees. He glared up at Adler. "I am not an angel."

He'd expected the taser to fire again, but it didn't. Instead, Adler's hand shot out, not at him, but at a cringing, whimpering Hannah. Her head snapped back. She cried out and looked pleadingly at Emmanuel, her cheek an angry red. "Emmanuel, please!"

"Stop!" Emmanuel roared. He fought his way to his feet, but froze when the taser swung around to point at him.

"Uh-uh-uh!" Adler scolded. "Stay back, unless you want another dose. Now, I asked you a question. Castiel? Are you a good angel?"

In an instant, Adler's game became clear. "Yes!" Emmanuel exclaimed. "Yes, I'm a good angel, now let her go"

"Very good." To Emmanuel's relief, Adler stepped back, moving away from him and Hannah. "Hannah?" he called. "Be a dear and give Emmanuel his medicine, would you?"

Hannah fumbled in a cabinet, pulling out a collection of pill bottles. She got a plastic cup and put some water in it. Then she shook some pills into her shaking hand and handed them to Emmanuel. "Take them, please?" she whispered. "It will be so much worse if you don't."

No choice. Emmanuel popped the pills into his mouth, considered pocketing them, and realized this wouldn't be that easy. With a grimace, he swallowed them with a bit of water.

"Open up and stick out your tongue," Adler ordered.

Naturally. Emmanuel obeyed, displaying his empty mouth. "What will these do to me?"

"Just keep you nice and calm, let you take a little nap," Adler called cheerfully. The vicious monster seemed to have vanished, replaced by a smiling man who had returned to his meal. "You'll get some rest now while Hannah and I get things ready and get on the road." He frowned, glaring at Emmanuel's injured wing. "We really must do something about that cast, Emmanuel. No one will believe the Angel Castiel has a broken wing! That stupid thing needs to come off, and now!"

Unconsciousness had come soon afterwards.