A/N: Okay, I think I need to clarify sth about the last scene: you all interpret way too much into sth the sole purpose which was supposed to be funny (somewhat). Dean doesn't like Ruby. Ruby doesn't like Dean. Ruby does take a liking to Alec and takes the opportunity to get one up on Dean. Add to that that I think she genuinely wants to help Sam get rid of Lilith (for her own reasons, but still), and there's no reason to find anything ominous ;)

Also, my internet access acts up, I'm just glad I'm able to post this chapter at the moment. Any unanswered comments will be replied to when my connection is a bit more stable. Until then, thanks to all of you for the great feedback I've been getting =D

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Part Two: A Life in Passing

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Scene Four

~Another one of those generic motel rooms, July 4th, 2007~

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Alec could have kicked himself for not recognizing the signs earlier.

Honestly, he was a highly trained assassin, a decent combat soldier and if the situation called for it he could find his way out of a desert or a jungle. He might not like it, but he was able to do it. So why was it apparently an impossible task to keep up with his medication? It's not like he didn't know about his condition, about the one Achilles heel the majority of X5s had in common.

Berating his own stupidity Alec clenched his hands around his knees, wedged into the corner between bed and wall, as his body betrayed him.

The seizures had started in the early morning, about two hours or so ago. It wasn't bad at first. Just a little tremble in his hands and the curious sensation as if he was walking on a ship on high seas and he had thought there was time enough to wait until the little pharmacy around the corner opened before the shakes got out of hand. Dean and he had made enough money hustling pool the evening before, and in 2007 the Tryptophan was readily available. He was able to come by his meds honestly for once, so there was really no reason to take the risk and break into the store.

Alec had lain down on his bed again, thinking he'd just watch some more TV, enjoy the music playing while he could before getting stuck in the Impala with Dean's ancient metal bands screeching into his ears for another day. Alec loved Dean's black behemoth of a car, double-floored trunk and all, but his template's choice of music was... not his. At all.

He'd woken up shaking so bad that he had crashed to the floor when he tried to stand up.

By now, Alec would have considered calling Sam's or Dean's cell if his fingers hadn't been too clumsy to press the right keys.

A knock on the door let his head snap up. Alec's motor control was so unhinged, however, that he accidentally knocked it against the wall hard enough to have him curse out loud.

"Leave me alone," he groaned, barely able to talk without stuttering. If he had to be sick as a dog, he wanted to be sick in peace. The rational part of his mind reminded him that those seizures wouldn't be done with him being sick as a dog, that it would only get worse and someone (the Winchesters) finding him might be a good thing, but like a sick animal Alec just wanted to hole up somewhere and forget about the rest of the world.

Dean's voice outside of the door yanked him back to reality and the fact that he needed his meds, like, an hour ago. "Alec?" Dean called. "You alright?"

Alec resisted the immediate and ludicrous urge to assure the other man that he was just fine, dammit! He was so very not alright that he almost laughed out loud. Instead, he stared defiantly at the turning doorknob when Dean on the other side decided to forgo privacy and come barging in, an old grumpy looking man in tow.

"Alec?"

The older Winchester all but leaped over the bed when he caught sight of his clone shaking like a junkie going cold-turkey. Overprotective and paranoid was not a desirable combination, Alec decided while he endured Dean's hand on his forehead, his other checking Alec for injuries. He tried batting the intruding fingers away, but he couldn't get his movements coordinated enough to even budge the other man.

The stranger's reaction was quite the opposite. It was infinitely more familiar though. Without warning, Alec had a gun pointed at his face. Again. At least now he had an idea as to who, or rather what, the old man was. Gray-streaked and bearded, with a ratty old baseball cap on his head, the guy looked like a rednecked trucker or something and Alec suddenly heard Ruby's last warning in his ears. 'Watch out for grizzly hunters.'

"Dean!" the old hunter warned tightly. Before Dean even opened his mouth, however, Alec snapped (tried to at any rate), "You know, I'm r-really sick of people pointing a g-gun at me 'cause they think I'm a shape-shifter."

Confusion flickered in the man's eyes. He didn't lower the gun however.

"Put the piece away, Bobby," Dean ordered without so much as looking at the old man. "He's not a shifter."

From Alec, he demanded, "What the hell is wrong with you?"

Clenching his jaw, Alec road out another wave of tremors.

"Alec?"

The panic that crept into Dean's voice now didn't bode well, so Alec stuttered out, "They f-fucked up our... our brain chemistry."

"You mean to say this happened before?" Dean sounded incredulous and pissed off. He looked it, too, when the younger man grunted and tried to nod without banging his head against the wall once more.

"You take any meds?"

Alec winced. If he knew Dean at all, this wouldn't go over well. "Usually."

"Well, where the hell are they?"

The older Winchester already turned in the direction of the small bathroom, making to stand up when Alec forced the words out, "Ran out." About three days ago as a matter of fact. He'd meant to restock but there was always something else going on and Alec hadn't gotten around to actually doing it.

"You ran out?" Dean echoed, and yeah, he was definitely pissed off now. "You have some kind of fucking epilepsy which you neglected to mention to either of us and to make it worse you forgot to get your meds?" He punched Alec into his arm. Hard. Alec glared up at him in response.

"I thought you were supposed to be intelligent!"

"S-sorry."

The grizzly hunter, Bobby, had come around the bed to loom over the two younger men and observed their interaction with unconcealed curiosity. The wariness was still there but at least the gun had disappeared.

"Maybe you should save the lectures for later and ask him what medication he needs, boy."

There was the faintest hint of amusement in that gruff voice. Dean seemed to catch it too, because he twisted around to glare at the man before focusing on Alec again and wordlessly raising a brow in question.

"Tryptophan," he informed his lookalike obediently, clutching his knees tightly when another seizure took hold. When he could breathe normally again he added, "Milk takes the edge off."

Once again, Dean prepared to stand up but Bobby waved him down and volunteered, "I'll get it. You stay with him. And I'll send Sam with a glass of milk."

A look of relief washing over his face, Dean nodded. "Thanks, Bobby."

"You can thank me by explaining that doppelgänger when I get back!" The loud thud of a door snapping shut followed the old man's order.

Alec let his head fall down on his knees, tired beyond belief. The warm hand that settled on the back of his neck felt comforting even as the tremors picked up once again.

"That a tattoo on your neck, kid?" Alec heard Dean wonder curiously, and he quipped "I hear it's considered an art form." Sick he might be but his mouth was still working.

An hour later the group was gathered in Alec's room, Alec himself propped up against the headrest, his third mug of milk clasped in his hands. He still shivered now and again and every time it happened Sam cast a worried glance his way. Dean wasn't as obvious in showing his concern, but Alec would have to take a bathroom break soon if Dean continued to pour milk down his throat like that.

At the moment, though, they were all three busy watching Bobby pace up and down the small room, muttering obscenities, and several versions of 'never in my life.' Finally, he stopped, stared at them some more and demanded, "From the future?"

"Yup," Dean confirmed, a smile playing around his lips.

"You been spreading your genes around, boy?"

Alec snorted. "That's one way of putting it."

Thus began the truly unbelievable part of their explanation. To Bobby's credit, he heard them out, only shaking his head in blatant disbelief a couple of times.

"Genetically engineered super-soldiers," he repeated dumbstruck when they were finished, still shaking his head.

"Believe me, Bobby," Dean empathized with that wry smile of his, "I know how you feel. And I'll say it again: demons I get; people are just plain crazy."

Alec tended to agree with him, especially since he had seen some of the concoctions Manticore's scientists had come up with. Mole with his greenish brown scales and double-lidded eyes didn't even rank in the top ten of DNA tinkering gone awry.

"Humans who want to play God," Sam spat, disgust plain to see. "There's got to be something we can –"

"No!" Alec interrupted, alarmed. He knew where Sam was going with this and it was not going to happen if Alec had any say in this. "Don't go poking around Manticore, Sam! I mean it! The ones who try have the unfortunate tendency to turn up dead!"

"We know how to cover our tracks, Alec," Sam tried to soothe, but the transgenic wouldn't have any of it.

"No! Promise me, Sam!" he insisted. "No poking around Manticore! Besides, what are you gonna do? Set us all free? How do you think people will react to a bunch of kids with preternatural abilities? Fuck, some of us don't even look human!"

"Well, hell," Booby took off his cap and scratched his scraggy hair. "I know how hunters would react."

"Exactly," Alec agreed forcefully, unbidden pictures standing behind his eyes, pictures of Joshua's phantom image making the news, of a friend beaten to death and strung up for everyone to see. "People fear what they don't know," he whispered. Then, a bit louder again, he told them, "Whatever else it was, Manticore is the best place for us to be right now."

Max would disagree with him of course but then Maxie had trouble seeing the bigger picture sometimes, or else she would never have pushed the button that forced Madame Director to make good on her threats and push her little red button that made the barracks go kaboom.

Sam stared at him for a good minute before he finally nodded his head in capitulation. Something nagged at Alec, though, and replaying the conversation in his head, he thought of something else that hadn't entered his mind until now.

"So, since we're already talking about sleeping dogs and all that," he began tentatively, "do you know anything about cults? A breeding cult whose members call themselves the Familiars in particular?"

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to be continued...