Crossing Paths

by Silvertayl 57

Dean and Sam take on what should be a simple hunt or maybe it's a hoax for a lizard-like creature said to be living under Seattle. Once in Seattle a strange turn of events finds the brothers shot forward in time to Seattle 2021. Will Dean's uncanny likeness to X5-494 now known as Alec lead them into a deadly situation from which there is no return? Full summary in chapter 1.

5. Suffering the Consequences

Crossing Paths

Disclaimer: See chapter 1

Authors Notes: Once again apologies for the delay in this chapter, unfortunately real life keeps getting in the way (sigh), also apologies if I missed anyone when I replied to your lovely reviews. Anyhoo here's chapter 5 a nice long one with plenty of hurt/suffering Dean for your reading pleasure.

Chapter 5: Suffering the Consequences

His senses returned in small increments of ever increasing pain until reaching a point where he wished they hadn't returned at all. The pain burning hot and constant smothered him, wrapping around him pressing in on him like a blanket of sharp knives that had been heated white hot in a fire. His head thrummed with a steady rhythm of pain matched beat for beat by the pain in his shoulders.

Trying without much success to push the pain to the back of his mind and without opening his eyes Dean concentrated on assessing his situation. He didn't need to be a genius to know it was bad… very bad. He was seated on a chair; he could tell it was metal by the feel of it where it touched the skin of his arms and across his back. His arms were pulled back and secured tightly behind him in metal cuffs attached to the base of the chair back; the muscles in his arms and shoulders screamed for release from the agony the position caused; the aggravated bullet wound felt like someone had stabbed a red hot poker through it. His legs were also restrained at the ankles in metal cuffs these were attached near the bottom of the front legs of the chair. His head was bowed; chin resting on his chest the muscles in his neck pulling in the opposite direction to the muscles in his arms and shoulders. He could feel the blood from the slice on his cheekbone had dried in a prickly path down his face into the corner of his mouth.

Voices, indistinct, muffled, sounding far away penetrated the haze of pain encompassing him. Concentrating hard without lifting his head he tried once again to push some of the pain away so he could focus on bringing the voices into hearing focus; instinctively he knew it was important that he heard what was being said; knowing he was partially successful when he filtered the voices past the incessant pounding in his ears bringing the voices clear enough to hear the words.

"He doesn't have a barcode, how do you know he's one of the X series?" asked a deep, commanding voice.

"Our records sir, according to our records and these photos, sir." Replied a voice in a high-pitched tone of ill-concealed nervousness.

There was pause, then. "You're basing this summation on records and photos?"

"Yes sir."

And what exactly do your records and photos you lead you to believe?"

"That this is X5-494."

"And if he is this… X5-494 why does he not have a barcode?" The first voice asked.

"It's possible they may have found a way of removing them."

This time there was an elongated pause before the first voice pondered, "I thought Manticore bred these freaks to be tough and yet you took him down with only a little resistance."

"Yes sir. We believe the reason maybe the bullet wound it appears to be infected."

Dean had no doubt the man referred to as sir was in charge and military, a stereotype, hard-ass military. Wait... bullet wound… are they talking about me?

"Interesting… let's find out," there was another long pause, then. "Wake him up."

"Colonel Burke, sir, Dr. Marshall said we weren't to interrogate him until he got here."

Yahtzee!

"Are you disobeying an order Kelly," the first voice demanded.

"No sir," Kelly replied quickly.

"Wake him up."

The freezing cold water that hit his fever hot skin brought his head up, with an inhale and a gasp of shock. Forcing his eyes open Dean blinked trying to clear the moisture that ran through his hair into his eyes and down his face.

There seemed to be twenty people in the room if this was a room. He blinked again and his vision cleared enough that the twenty morphed and bleed together into five.

As Dean examined the men he was as inconspicuously as possible testing his bonds they didn't give even the minutest bit and it seemed the chair he was tied too was bolted to the floor. His jacket, shirt, t-shirt, belt, shoes and socks had been removed leaving him clad only in his jeans. The water he had been doused with ran down his face and neck over his shoulders and bare chest, absorbing into and soaking the waist of his jeans. He could feel the familiar weight of his amulet lying against his chest; at least they had left that.

All five men in front of him sported almost military, short back and sides and were wearing dark clothing one of the men was the man in the alley who had used the stun gun on him the others could also have been in the alley it was hard to tell as he hadn't gotten a look at them. Of the five one man stood out; and it wasn't just because of his stature or his posture; the man exuded an air of authority, respect and menace; this was Colonel Burke. Tall, muscular, African American, skin so dark it looked blue-black; he had a wide flat nose and a long, red, puckered, angry looking scar that pulled at the outer corner of his right eye arcing down across his cheek ending near the corner of his full, top lip pulling the side of his mouth into a permanent sneer; the tailored coat molded to and accentuated his heavily muscled chest, arms and shoulders.

Dean could see from his position the room he was being held in was large, high and long, corrugated iron sheets lined the walls and made up the roof, steel beams supported the structure, old rusting shipping containers and crates of various sizes were scattered around and large area; windows with darkness pressing against the panes spaced between sliding metal doors along one side. It appeared to be a storage hanger a shipping warehouse or a finger wharf and if the salty smell in the air was any indication was close to the harbor.

Dean looked at each man in turn, "Well if it isn't Grumpy, Sleepy, Sleazy, Dopey and… Douchey," He said, his eyes coming to rest on the tall, scarred colonel; his voice sounding rough and dry like it hadn't been used for a while. He swiped his tongue across his lips trying to take in the drops of moisture still clinging to his lips.

Dean's eyes slid from the colonel to the man holding a dripping bucket that had been filled with the water now soaking him; he stood beside a large drum that appeared to be almost full if the dribbles of water running down the sides onto the concrete floor around the drum's base were an indication.

"You the one I need to thank for the bracing cold shower?" Dean asked, sarcastically.

Burke stepped forward drawing Dean's eyes back to him. He stopped inches from the toes of his bare feet. Dean had to tip his head back to see into the man's scarred face.

"You will speak only to answer any questions," he said in that certain commanding manner that reminded Dean of his ex-marine father. "Fail to comply and you will suffer the consequences."

"Consequences huh… and what would they be?"

He got his answer as Burke's hand shot out and gripped his wounded shoulder his palm digging into the wound much the same way Meg possessed Sam had done a few days earlier. He felt the damaged skin give way under the pressure and hot blood spill from the wound down his arm.

Dean clenched his teeth to hold in an agonized cry but it escaped despite his best effort.

Burke kept up the pressure on his shoulder for a moment longer then let go examining the blood coating his hand with distaste; he then wiped his hand clean on the leg of Dean's wet jeans before he continued.

Dean tried to pull in and away from the pain radiating from the damaged flesh of his shoulder panting harshly as he tried to regain some kind of control over his body.

Burke turned to Dean's left walking to one of the windows staring out into the night his feet braced apart, hands clasped behind his back.

"Now let's try that again. Where is your barcode?" He said in a deceptively calm tone.

"What?" Dean forced out between labored breaths still recovering from the pain inflicted on his damaged flesh.

"Where is your barcode?" Burke repeated.

"I don't have a barcode… hey I don't even have a tattoo."

"You're a Manticore X5, you were branded with a designation barcode and yours is gone so how did you remove it?"

Dean picked up on one word. "Manticore?" he replied puzzled, "you mean like the mythical lion-headed creature Manticore?"

The imposing man remained silent continuing to gaze out into the night. As if his silence was some kind of signal the man standing closest to Dean stepped forward. Dean lifted his head staring up at him. He made a show of pulling on a pair of gloves and flexing his fists, the stiff leather creaking with the motion. Then like a snake striking the man threw a hard right and then an equally hard left, both connected hard causing his head to rock one way then the other momentarily putting more strain on his shoulder muscles and the open, bleeding bullet wound. He felt the soft flesh inside his cheeks open and warmth run down the back of his nose filling his mouth with the metallic taste of his own blood.

The blows were hard enough that it took him a good while before he could collect himself to answer the colonel's next question.

"You were warned to speak only to answer my questions and that there would be consequences if you failed to comply… what is your designation?"

Dean coughed out the blood pooling in his mouth; it ran and spluttered from his lips coating his chin and throat running down across his collarbone, drops of crimson spattering the denim fabric across his taut, tense thighs, "I don't… know anything about a… Manticore… and I don't have… a designation." He said thickly.

The malicious smile on the man's face who had taken such pleasure in the blows he'd delivered to his face flexed his fists again and Dean braced himself, "Wrong answer." He said making a show of drawing back his fist before he hit him again.

-CP-

It had been over twenty minutes since Alec had talked to Logan. Twenty minutes and with every minute that passed and Alec's cell didn't ring Sam's concern for Dean ratcheted up another notch.

At some point during that time Alec had moved from his position crouched at Sam's feet to sit on the couch.

Sam had shrugged out of his jacket laying it over the arm of the chair as Alec had recounted his story.

"I was… gathering supplies when you mistook me for Dean." Alec said with finality.

Sam shook his head in disbelief, absently fingering the small cut under his eye.

Alec saw that it had long ago stopped bleeding but guilt stabbed at him knowing he was responsible for the split skin and bruising. "You want some ice for that bruising?" He offered as way of making amends.

Sam pulled his fingers away and glanced at them before answering. "Nar it's not bad and it's stopped bleeding, I'm good."

Alec said nothing further about it; he was waiting for Sam's reaction to what he had just revealed about himself.

Sam drew in a calming breath before he said, "So let me see if I've got this right. You were conceived in a lab at Manticore from stolen DNA that was genetically engineered for strength, speed, superior eyesight and accelerated healing; born of a surrogate mother. At birth you were labelled a transgenic; given a number a… what did you call it?"

"A designation," Alec supplied.

"Right a designation genetically imprinted with this designation in a barcode tattoo that cannot be removed… but not given a name. Trained from childhood to be an assassin, a killer; to obey orders from Manticore without question… to be the perfect soldier?" Sam paused for a breath before continuing. "You lived this… life until a little over a year ago when Manticore burned to the ground? But now there's this White guy, supposedly NSA who wants all of the Manticore transgenics dead, is part of some weird, ancient, breeding cult and is in charge of hunting down all of you?"

Alec shrugged, a hint of a smile pulling at his handsome features, "If you want to over simplify it then yeah that about covers it."

What I don't get is why would the government go to the trouble of creating Manticore and transgenics only to turn around and wipe it all away?" Sam said.

"Who the hell knows why the government does what it does?" Alec answered. "Maybe a case of the right hand doesn't know what the left hand is doing scenario?"

"Could be," Sam said thoughtfully. "Do you think White has Dean?"

"White has been off the grid since the siege, we were waiting for him to make a move so it's possible… but… I don't know it... doesn't feel… I don't think White is behind this."

"What makes you so sure?"

Alec shrugged, "Just a feeling."

"And if it is White what does that mean for Dean…? I mean if White thinks he's you he'll… kill him.

Alec shook his head in denial, "Even if it is White it's not going to happen, we will get him back… alive." Alec said with determination.

"What if?..." Sam trailed off, afraid to put his thoughts into words.

Alec shook his head in denial, "No. No Sam, it's not too late... it's not."

"What makes you so sure?" Sam repeated.

Alec looked at Sam, unsure he should say any more.

Sam looked back, waiting.

Alec knew he had to tell him why, even though Sam wouldn't like what he had to say.

"Because... White is a cold, sadistic bastard, he murdered his own wife when she found out what he was and what had he had done. He will make Dean suffer before he... kills him.

Sam did not reply but his expression said plenty. It was a strange combination of hope, hope his brother was still alive and fear, fear of what Dean might be enduring at White's hands.

Silence reigned over the apartment, as both men grappled with their thoughts and emotions.

After a minute Alec picked up his cell phone, frowned at the display as if a look alone could compel it to ring, before he put it back on the low coffee table.

It was Sam who broke the tense, heavy silence with a question that Alec was not expecting.

"So... if you were given no name how did you get the name Alec?"

Alec's green eyes shot to Sam. "Max, she named me Alec… as in smart Alec."

Appropriate. Sam thought with a flash of wry amusement.

"She was the one of the kids that escaped from Manticore in 09 before the pulse wiped out all the satellites; the same Max that is responsible for burning down Manticore and letting the transgenic's loose?" Sam asked.

"It was more like set us free, but yeah one and the same."

"If Dean is your DNA donor I wonder how they got hold of it." Sam mused quietly more to himself than Alec. "And when?" He finished.

Alec's acute hearing had picked up every whispered word, "No clue. Manticore wasn't caring and sharing; they didn't say this is your donor's name go look 'em up and have a family reunion they were kind of secretive about those things… about everything…" Alec gave humorless huff of laughter. "Go figure?"

"Huh." Maybe I can work back and figure it out? Sam sat forward, "Alec when were you born?"

"2000 at least I think it was 2000 I don't know for sure."

"You mean to tell me you don't know your actual birthday?" Sam asked surprised.

Alec lifted his hands in a 'what do you want from me gesture'. "Manticore didn't play happy families Sam, they bred us, gave us a designation... no name, no childhood, no slice of birthday cake or a chorus of Happy Birthday one day a year. What we did get was discipline, duty, and training and if we failed we got-" Alec cut off he wasn't ready to talk about PSYOPS, the re-indoctrination the torture and brainwashing.

Sam was taken back he thought the way his dad raised him and Dean was bad always on the road, that marine crap… but their upbringing was like the Cleaver's compared to what Alec and his siblings the ones that hadn't escaped in 09 had endured.

"Got what?" Sam asked, picking up on Alec's last words, wanting to know all of it.

Alec worried his top lip with his bottom teeth in thought. It was a gesture so achingly familiar Sam's heart leapt into his throat. "Nothing." He answered after a short while. "So… anyway I gave myself a birthday," Alec said going back to the conversation from a minute earlier. "I had too. When I applied for the job at Jam Pony the application form asked for a date of birth so I made one up."

"And what was that?"

Alec's thoughts turned away from PSYOPS to the day six odd weeks earlier he had called his birthday. Normal had made him a birthday cake the first one he'd ever had in his life. It was also the day of the siege the day he'd been shot in the shoulder by a gun happy cop the day he fought wounded alongside Max, Joshua, Logan and Mole against White and his Phalanx warriors. The day Gem's baby was born; the day that culminated in a flight from Jam Pony to TC followed closely by Clemente and forty Police. "May 7th." Alec replied absently rubbing at his long healed shoulder.

For some reason Sam had expected Alec to say January 24, "What made you choose that date?"

"No particular reason. Why is it significant?"

"No… just curious. Dean's is January 24," Sam said.

Alec frowned remembering how the day he filled out the job application he had paused, pen poised next to the section that had read: Date of Birth he'd almost written January 24. January 24… Dean's birthday? Had there been something… some sort of subconscious connection to his DNA donor… to Dean? Had the part of him that was Dean somehow wanted to choose the same birth date? Or… maybe… that really is my birthday?

Sam's mind was whirling, calculating. "If you were born in 2000, it would take nine months before the surrogate mother gave birth; Manticore would have needed time for research, to put together the cocktail of DNA to get it right. They must have taken Dean's DNA in ninety eight, ninety nine at the latest…" He trailed off, sifting through his memory to the hunts they'd been on and what had happened around then how and when Manticore had the opportunity to steal Dean's DNA. His thought's came back to the hunt he'd been recalling in Wyoming in 98 only three days ago as they'd headed away from Bobby's… was it only three days it felt like a month? The hunt for the black dog, Dean getting bitten and a stay in hospital. Alec had said Manticore originated in Wyoming… when Dean was in that hospital in Gillette that must be it… when they had stolen his DNA. All they would need would be a few drops of blood, a hair a fingernail some skin cells… Sam jumped when at the moment of revelation Alec's phone rang.

Alec had remained silent listening to Sam's musings, watching his eyes as he mulled over the information he had gleaned in his mind.

Both he and Sam jumped at the sudden ring of his phone, recovering quickly he pounced on it surging to his feet, glancing at the caller ID he hit connect.

"Logan what you got?"

"I hacked into the hover drone feed, tracked the van to the old Mercer Shipping Warehouse on Harbor Island.

"Thanks Logan I owe you."

Sam too had stood he was looking at Alec expectantly.

"Alec, tell me what's going on?" Logan's concerned voice came down the line. "You're not going to do something stupid are you?"

Alec ignored the questions and the genuine concern in Logan's voice, "I'll call you later," then he disconnected before Logan could say anything more. The last thing Alec wanted was Logan involved in this mess. Dean and Sam were in this because of him and that made this his problem, he needed to fix it.

"Did he find him?" Sam asked anxiously.

"Yeah."

"What are we waiting for let's go?"

Alec hesitated; Sam shifted his weight from one foot to the other eager to get moving.

"Sam I think you should stay here, I'll take care of it… It's me they want."

"No way that's my brother out there, I'm coming with you."

"This is my fault. Dean's in this because of me I can't risk them getting their hands on you as well."

"Alec you're not going without me."

Alec gave Sam a hard look then seemed to relent. "Alright you'll need your jacket it's June but the nights are still cool."

Sam turned away reaching for his jacket lying over the arm of the chair.

That's when Alec made his move wrapping his arms around the taller man's neck and locking them in position he applied a gentle pressure to the right spots temporarily cutting off the blood supply to Sam's brain.

Sam felt Alec's arms close around his throat. "Alec what are y-" He reached up fingers digging into Alec's forearms in an attempt to break the hold at the same time he wanted to shout at him; but before he could push the words out he felt lightheaded, his strength drained away and he felt his grip on Alec's arm loosen. His senses hazed and then he heard Alec's quiet voice close to his ear as his world rapidly turned from Technicolor to gray and then black.

"I'm sorry Sam; I've got to do this alone."

The hold took effect within moments, Sam's initial struggle and his desperate grip on Alec's arms loosened, his hands falling away and his weight shifted downward. Alec whispered, "I'm sorry Sam; I've got to do this alone." Lowering Sam's now unresponsive body gently down to the carpet.

-CP-

They'd revived him again with another dousing of cold water and then when they had deemed him awake although he trembled from pain and shock; the colonel resumed the same line of questioning… questions Dean couldn't answer because he didn't know what the answers were. "Where's your barcode? What's your designation? And now there were more, "Where and who is Eyes Only?" and "How are you getting out of Terminal City?"

Dean answered the new questions with questions of his own, forced out between swelling, split lips, "Eyes Only… he a character from a Bond movie? And this Terminal City place… sounds like some kind of hospital or hospice?"

"You think you're clever? That you're fooling us with this act?" Burke said from his place beside the window. "You know exactly who and what I'm referring too."

"It's not an... act chief; I don't know anything... about any of... these people or things," Dean rasped out. Knowing that would get him another round of consequences.

Sure enough they started in on him again this time including his body; aiming blows to his rib cage, stomach and even to his kidneys, punctuated every few blows by more of the repetitive questions before more blows to his face sending him once again into blissful oblivion.

Yet more water brought him back to painful awareness, this time accompanied by a sharp slap to his battered face; he had no strength to lift his head, it hung low, chin tucked against his heaving chest. A mixture of water and blood from the many cuts on his face ran down mixing with the blood that ran freely from his mouth and nose to drip onto the thighs of his jeans. His nose felt broken, his left eye was swollen shut and the vision in his right eye was blurred and fuzzy. And he could tell by the pain that shot through his left side every time he attempted to draw in a breath and the grinding of the bone moving under his skin that more than one of his ribs were broken.

From behind him a hand gripped his hair forcing his head up as another hand gripped his jaw in a vise-like grip keeping his head locked upright. The position made his attempt to just keep breathing more difficult he sounded like an eighty five year old with emphysema the air wheezing in and out through his parted, swollen lips.

As far as Dean could tell Burke had remained at the window through the beatings. The man finally turned towards him covering the distance between the window and Dean with slow measured steps, stopping in front of him he brushed imaginary lint from the sleeve of his coat before his dark eyes met Dean's. He then scanned Dean's battered continence, "I'm running out of patience, tell me everything I want to know and I'll make it stop and this will all be over." He said.

Pulling his vastly depleted resources from deep inside Dean managed to reply, "When are you... morons gonna get it… I don't have… and I have never had… a barcode… I'm not… X5… I've never heard of… Manticore… Eyes Only or… Terminal City… my name… is-" Dean cut off as the glove wearing pugilist, his main tormentor, gloves stained with Dean's own blood stepped in front of him again cutting off his view of the tall man, he smiled before a well-placed blow to his already broken ribs made him cry out in pain it almost sent him over the edge into darkness yet again. Released from the tight grip his head flopped forward and he had no strength to lift it even if he wanted too. Breathing in a stuttering breath the pain in his ribs piercing through him he prayed they would give him a few moments of reprieve.

To his utter relief a reprieve came and it came from an unexpected source.

"Colonel Burke sir, do you think we should stop?" the man Dean vaguely remembered was named Kelly asked. "Dr. Marshall's instructions were to wait for him?" Kelly was the only man other than Burke who had not taken any part in the beating.

"Are you questioning my methods Kelly?" The colonel answered with barely suppressed anger.

"No sir. It's just if we keep doing this we're going to kill him... and our orders were very specific… the transgenics are to be alive… sir."

"Marshall is not in charge here Kelly, I am," Burke said.

It seemed to Dean that something in Kelly's words had clearly aggravated the man; his voice had risen just a little, but the menace was still there, front and center. "This ends when this… transgenic tells me what I want to hear and not before, if he is still alive when that happens then we are all satisfied. I think Marshall would agree the life of one of these freaks is worth it if he has access to many more… don't you agree Kelly?"

"Yes sir of course but-"

"Mister Kelly do you wish to be removed from your duties for disobeying my orders?"

"No sir." Kelly answered.

There was a tense pause, "Continue."

Dean mentally braced himself and then he felt a hand in his hair and again his head was forced up so he was looking into Burke's dark, menacing face.

"How. Are. You. Getting. In. And. Out. Of. Terminal City?"

Dean knew then that this man would make good his threat and happily have his men beat him to a bloody pulp. Okay if I'm going out then I'm going out Dean Winchester style. Dean gave him a look that he hoped said he was done he was giving up.

It had the desired effect. Dean could tell the man saw the look of defeat on his bloody, beaten face. He leaned closer a look of triumph and satisfaction lighting his stern, cruel face his scar pulling taught with the motion in what Dean thought for Burke must classify as a smile.

Dean coughed weakly drawing out the moment, his breaths coming shallow and rapid, "Bite me."

Burke's lips pulled into a snarl and he reached out his hand once again digging into the wound on his shoulder, Dean couldn't hold back the cry of pain squeezing his only functioning eye closed.

"I can keep doing this all night, every time you pass out I'll wake you up and do it all over again until you tell me what I want to hear."

Fighting to remain conscious from the pain the man was inflicting on his battered body Dean forced his one eye open, "Go ahead… I… can't… tell you… anything… because… I don't… know… anything… I'm not… who… you… think… I am…" he rasped out through clenched teeth.

The dark face above him was full of barely suppressed rage and fury, he looked for the world like he was going to explode and then there was a blur of motion as something dropped from above landing behind the men surrounding him, causing Burke to release him and straighten and turn quickly to face the new threat.

And that's when Dean thought the beating he had taken to his head had addled his brain because he could swear the man crouched slightly in a fighting stance facing the men around him looked like… him.

-CP-

He felt pressure as someone pressed fingers to his throat. His face was mashed against something that was course and prickly and smelled musty. Blinking his eyes open he felt his lashes brushing against the prickly surface he lay on. The fingers pressing on his neck were withdrawn; lifting his head a little he saw carpet; which meant he was on the floor. Why am I on the floor? Then memory rushed back. Alec! Using the flat of his hands Sam pushed up and away from the carpet and now he was looking into the concerned blue eyes behind wire-rimmed glasses of the sandy haired man squatting on the balls of his feet beside him.

"Take it easy," The stranger said as he helped him sit up and lean back against the couch. He left a steadying hand on his shoulder. "Where's Alec?"

His head was still fuzzy causing his mind to ignore the worried question. "What the hell happened?" Sam asked running his hands through his hair.

"You tell me. I found you on the floor in Alec's apartment."

"Alec… he used some kind of wrestling move on me, a sleeper hold he-" Sam stopped aware that he didn't even know who this was and maybe he shouldn't be telling him anything. Although the man did seem to know Alec and he knew this was Alec's apartment. "Who are you?"

"I'm Logan; I'm a friend of Alec's."

"Logan? Alec spoke to you on his cell. You found the van."

"Yeah and you're the brother of the guy on the drone footage that looks like Alec. Alec told me you were with him."

"Sam. I'm Sam the man on the footage is my brother, Dean."

"The men that took Dean they thought he was Alec?"

Sam nodded, "Yeah they did."

"I can see why. I thought it was Alec." Logan searched his face his blue eyes landing on the small cut under Sam's eye. "You alright?"

"Yeah." Sam said with a slight incline of his head.

"Alec went after him alone… didn't he?" Logan asked.

Sam nodded. "He didn't want me to go with him, said it was his fault and it was him they wanted, said he was going to bring Dean back."

"Why would he think it's his fault?"

"Because they want him and they think Dean is him."

"Damn it Alec," Logan snapped, looking up to the ceiling. "Stupid bastard is gonna get himself and your brother killed."

"Logan you tracked the van you know where they took my brother… where Alec went."

"Yeah and now you want to go after them?"

"It's my brother." Sam said simply.

"And Alec is my friend, I'm coming with you."

"Okay so what are we waiting for?"

Logan again eyed Sam's bruised face, "You right to go?"

"Yeah I'm good."

"Come on Sam we gotta hurry," Logan said getting to his feet and pulling Sam up with him. "I hope we're not too late."

-CP-

Leaving Sam on the floor, Alec blurred to Harbor Island from his apartment using all his Manticore given skills to get past the sector police the sneak and creep way he had used when he's first come to Seattle; before Jam Pony and a sector pass. It would have been so much easier and faster if he still had the trail bike and that sector pass. He came to a stop about three hundred meters away from the Mercer Shipping Warehouse only slightly out of breath. Using his enhanced vision he zoomed in on the front of the warehouse; from this angle he could see only two guards both wearing inconspicuous dark clothing and carrying automatic rifles.

The salt laden harbor air filled his senses swiping his tongue across his lips as he crept the rest of the way up to the warehouse he tasted it on his lips; taking cover behind one of three dark colored cars he noted the van in the hover drone footage that Dean had been bundled into was parked near the entrance so he had the right place. The windows along one side of the large building spilled light in long rectangles across the ground. He watched the two men guarding the enormous double sliding entrance doors; waiting for his opportunity to get past them without drawing attention to himself.

Alec tuned in to the conversation the two men were having.

"He was not supposed to interrogate him; when Marshall gets here he is not going to be happy," One of the man said, his gun was held loosely in his grip, he leaned his back against the corrugated iron of the building one leg bent up behind him, his foot planted on the wall.

"Yeah, can't wait to see the sparks fly when Marshall sees what he's doing." The second man said, kicking at the ground with toe of his shoe.

The first man pulled a pack of cigarettes from the pocket of his jacket tapped one out and lifted the pack towards the other man. The second man walked the dozen or so steps to his colleague's side from the other side of the doors taking the proffered cigarette from the pack. Stuffing the pack back in his pocket the guard bought out a lighter. Turning their backs to the wind and away from the harbor, shielding the flickering flame of the lighter they touched the flame to the cigarette tips. Cigarettes now lit the men assumed a relaxed pose; turning away from him they looked out over the water to the lights of the city on the other side of Seattle Harbor; the tips of the lit cigarettes glowed brighter at intervals every time they inhaled, dragging the additive nicotine into their lungs.

Alec blurred from behind the car to the unlit side of the building away from where the men stood. His eyes never leaving the two guards Alec left the cover of the building creeping on silent feet to the doors in the center; grasping the handle on one of the doors he pulled it open slowly sending up a silent prayer that it made no noise. Opening it just far enough he slid inside pulling it closed behind him.

Packing crates, boxes and shipping containers of varying sizes were scattered around the interior in a seemingly haphazard manner, some of the boxes and crates were open packing scattered across the floor others nailed shut or bolted. Voices from somewhere deeper into the warehouse echoed off the corrugated iron walls and the high roof.

"I'm running out of patience, tell me everything I want to know and I'll make it stop and this will all be over." One of them said in an authoritative voice.

To Alec's left a set of metal stairs ran up to a deep gantry that ran the length of the warehouse; in the center of the gantry was a room which would be the warehouse office.

In a low crouch Alec moved forward towards the voices using the warehouse's contents as cover until he was deep into the warehouse and the voices were much closer now.

He heard a strained, breathless voice. "When are you... morons gonna get it… I don't have… and I have never had… a barcode… I'm not… X5… I've never heard of… Manticore… Eyes Only or… Terminal City… my name… is-"

Dean? That had to be Dean?

The pain in Dean's deep voice was obvious. He was very near now the voices were just ahead. That's when he heard the unmistakable sound of a fist impacting flesh.

Alec stopped pressing back against the large container that separated him from Dean. With his right shoulder still against the crate he rolled his body and peered around the crate's edge.

Five men stood with their backs to him; all were wearing dark clothing and all sported military haircuts and carried firearms at their waists.

One taller than the others African American stood over a man that could be on one other than Dean.

Cuffed to a metal chair at wrists and ankles his arms pulled behind him; he was bare to the waist; his breathing was labored his chest rose and fell in short sharp bursts. Dean's head hung low his chin touching his chest, his hair was wet water dripped from the tips down what Alec could see of his face mixing with blood coming from his mouth and a multitude of cuts and lacerations.

"Colonel Burke sir, do you think we should stop? Dr. Marshall's instructions were to wait for him?" The man on the far right said eyes on the dark man in the middle of the five.

His head turned slowly to the man who had spoken. "Are you questioning my methods Kelly?" He said in a deceptively calm voice.

The man Kelly had referred to as Colonel Burke was in charge it was his baring the way he held himself; he had an air of authority and menace. Tall and broad shouldered, his skin midnight black.

"No sir. It's just if we keep doing this we're going to kill him... and our orders were very specific… the transgenics are to be alive… sir."

"Marshall is not in charge here Kelly, I am," Burke said.

"This ends when this… transgenic tells me what I want to hear and not before if he is still alive when that happens then we are all satisfied. I think Marshall would agree the life of one of these freaks is worth it if he has access to many more… don't you agree Kelly?"

"Yes sir of course but-" Kelly started.

"Mister Kelly do you wish to be removed from your duties for disobeying my orders?" The big man spat at him.

To Kelly's credit he stood his ground for a few moments then his eyes dropped, "No sir." He answered.

The colonel looked satisfied turning his head back to Dean he commanded, "Continue."

One of the men stepped behind Dean grasping his hair he forcing Dean's head up.

At the sight of Dean's face Alec's stomach leapt into his throat; to say he was shocked by his appearance would be an understatement. It was all he could do to contain a gasp.

Dean's left eye was puffy, red and swollen shut his right not much better; his lips too were swollen and bleeding. There was virtually no skin on his face that wasn't reddened, bruised or broken and bruising was already coming out along his sides and chest. Blood from the many cuts ran down his face, sliding down across his throat, chest and along the corded muscles of his stomach soaking into the waist of his jeans turning the material navy blue. And he didn't appear to be conscious.

Alec tore his eyes away from Dean rolling back to the cover of the crate. His keen eyes scanned the warehouse landing on the stairs leading up to and along the gantry. He heard the colonel's next question as he made his way back to the front of the warehouse to the stairs taking them two at a time.

"How. Are. You. Getting. In. And. Out. Of. Terminal City?"

Alec heard Dean's answer as he reached the top step.

"Bite me."

That comment made Alec want to cheer. The retort sounded like something he himself would have said. Way to go Dean!

He moved quietly and quickly along the metal walkway, hearing Dean's cry of pain as Burke exacted retribution for his sarcasm.

"I can keep doing this all night, every time you pass out I'll wake you up and do it all over again until you tell me what I want to hear." The stern, angry voice echoed off the roof above him as he continued past the office and along the gantry stopping directly above the men grouped around Dean.

Burke was leaning over Dean his right hand gripping the outer side of Dean's shoulder.

"Go ahead… I… can't… tell you… anything… because… I… don't… know… anything… I'm not… who… you… think… I am…" Dean gasped out through clenched teeth.

Bracing his left hand on the railing Alec leapt over the side landing with the grace of a cat per his cat DNA on his feet immediately behind the men, before any of them could react to reach for their weapons or turn to confront him Alec brought the heads of Kelly and the man closest to him together with an audible crack both men dropped like stones to lay unmoving on the ground.

Burke straightened immediately turning from Dean to face him; the two remaining men pulled their weapons firing without hesitation. In a blur of motion Alec easily dodged the bullets, karate chopped the forearm of one, the snap of bone and a cry of pain accompanied the movement loosening the man's grip on the firearm. Alec followed through with an elbow to the man's face sending him to the ground. A side kick to the other man's midsection doubled him over. Alec finished him off with a blow to the back of his head and he joined his colleagues on the floor.

Alec spun to face the last man standing Colonel Burke. The big man had his automatic pistol trained on Alec's heart the fingers of his right hand where they curled around the stock and rested against the trigger were coated in Dean's blood.

-CP-

Dean could do nothing else but watch through his one blurry eye as Burke pointed his weapon at the younger man's heart. I must be hallucinating.

Burke spoke to the other him, "So he was telling the truth," He stated his dark eyes boring into him. "He's not X5-494... you are." The last words full of contempt.

The man Burke had referred to as X5-494 answered with a lift of his lips, "In the flesh," He gestured in Dean's direction. "You did that to him for nothing."

"I wouldn't say it was for nothing now I've got you."

"Not yet," X5-494 answered.

Dean was going to call out a warning, sensing the big man would fire, maybe not to kill but to wound. But as things would have it he didn't need too as in a blur of motion his lookalike sprang up off the ground and over Burke's head. He landed behind him, feet braced in a fighting stance. Burke spun around to face him; the younger man pushed out with his arm the heel of his hand catching him on the nose in a stunning blow. Burke stumbled back a step blood already streaming from his nose; 494 struck again knocking his gun hand up as the man's finger depressed the trigger.

Alec pulled back out of the direct path of the speeding bullet and the shot went wide; but only just. He felt the cool air from the bullet caress the skin of his cheek as it sped by him the shot reverberating around the warehouse the bullet burying itself in one of the metal crates. Reaching out Alec wrapped his fingers around the barrel snatching the pistol from Burke's hand and bringing the butt down on the man's wide forehead. The big man's eyes rolled back and he went down falling back into a small shipping crate; it toppled over and he went with it coming to rest atop the fallen crate. There was already a reddened patch of skin on his forehead and blood from his nose ran down over his chin and throat staining the collar of his shirt.

Throwing the gun away from him in disgust Alec stalked up to Burke searched his pockets but did not come up with the keys he found them after a brief search of the other unconscious men.

Dean was watching him through the slit of one eye, his breathing labored, his body trembling and shuddering.

Stripping off his gloves and shoving them into his pocket Alec moved behind Dean, waves of feverish heat radiated from his bare flesh. He inserted the key into one of the wide cuffs it snapped open freeing his wrist; he had moved on to the other wrist cuff when he heard Dean's raspy voice. "Nice moves… where'd… I learn… moves… like… that?"

The second cuff snapped open, "Manticore." Alec answered simply.

Both hands now released Dean's weakened body slumped forward in the chair; Alec scooted around to the front of the chair noticing as he did so a wound on Dean's shoulder it was obviously a bullet wound it looked like it had been opened up more than once; it was nasty and it was older the edges were ragged and inflamed and blood ran freely from it down his arm.

This was probably the source of the fever Dean was obviously running. Sam's broken voice echoed in his head. "He was sick because of me…"

Alec squatted down in front of him and sparing Dean a quick look he began to open the ankle cuffs. Dean's color was high, his face and chest were coated in a fine layer of sweat his breathing was labored, Alec could hear it wheezing in and out of his cracked, swollen, bloody lips.

Dean had latched on to one word, "Kept… saying… I was… Manticore." Dean managed to push out as the first ankle cuff clicked open.

Alec moved on to the last one, "I heard."

Dean pulled in a shaky breathe, "494… that's some… weird ass… name you got."

"Yeah I know… but it not me anymore… Alec, my name's Alec."

"An… improvement… on 494…" Dean said with pained humor. "Alec… I gotta say… you are a… handsome… devil… like…"

The last cuff clicked open.

"Like you?" Alec finished with a wry smile. "It's in the genes, Dean." Alec looked into Dean's bruised bloody face; from underneath dark lashes the slit of a glittering green iris bored into Alec.

"How… do you… know… my… name?" Dean pushed out.

"Sam told me."

"He… okay?"

"He's very worried about you, but yeah he's fine." And probably really, really pissed right about now.

"Thank… God," A shudder passed through Dean his head dropped lower and Alec heard immense relief in the deep, pained voice.

"Let's get you out of here and back to Sam. Think you can walk?" Alec asked supporting Dean's sagging body with a hand on his shoulder looking at the top of his head and his wet, sweaty light brown hair.

Dean raised his head doing his best to straighten up; shining in his one functioning eye Alec saw the same raw determination to get back to his brother as he'd seen in Sam's determination to find Dean.

"Yeah… I can walk… might need… a little… help… though." Dean answered sounding almost apologetic that he needed help.

Getting to his feet and sliding his hands under Dean's arms Alec locked his elbows and levered him up to a swaying stand, when he thought Dean was steady enough he jammed his shoulder under Dean's right arm grasped the limb by the wrist and pulled it across his shoulders at the same time he wrapped his other arm around Dean's heated clammy back. Dean was making a valiant effort to take some of his own weight as Alec led his trembling, faltering body back through the warehouse.

When they reached the doors Alec lowered Dean down to sit atop a low wooden packing box. Dean groaned in pain as the movement caused his broken ribs to grind together. He pulled his arm across his middle grasping his left arm at the elbow and pulling it in against his side, giving some support to his broken ribs and his injured shoulder.

Alec slid one of the doors open just far enough to peek out. Scanning the area he found no sign of the two guards, he was relieved but in the back of his mind an alarm bell was ringing… this is way too easy?

Pushing the door open further he jogged to the closest car scanning the immediate area for signs of the guards as he went. Pulling open the passenger door Alec let out a sigh of relief when he saw the keys dangling from the ignition. He hurried back inside to Dean; he was as he had left him his right arm grasping the left at the elbow keeping it close to his body.

"There's a car outside it's not far think you can make it?"

"Yeah… I'll… make it."

"Okay… you ready?"

"As I'll… ever be."

Relinquishing his hold on his arm and gritting his teeth Dean let Alec once again slide his arm across his shoulders assisting him to his feet.

He concentrated on the ground in front of him as they exited the warehouse his feet dragging to spite his efforts to lift them.

The sound of rifles being readied and cocked reverberated through the air; he lifted his head to the four armed men that had seemingly materialized out of the dark, effectively blocking their path to the car that waited with the passenger door open. His strength was almost done and he didn't know how much longer he could stay on his feet; shifting his weight a little he tried to draw on the small amount of resources he had left and face this new threat head on, "Hey handsome… got any… bright… ideas?" Dean asked, glancing at the profile of his younger self through his good eye.

"Working on it," Alec answered his green eyes darting from man to man.

He had to find some way to get Dean to the car and safety.

Then a fifth man appeared from the shadows, he stepped forward in between the armed men. The man was small and slightly built his hair peppered with gray as with the others he wore dark clothing but unlike the others he wore a bow tie at his throat; his hands were buried in the pockets of his coat, "I thought if we got hold of one it would bring out more." He said with a note of satisfaction.

"This was a trap." Alec stated.

"Not exactly; it was more a case of good luck than good management. However the end result is more than acceptable; because I have you 494 and… him," The small man said mirroring Burke's words as his eyes slid to Dean.

"He has nothing to do with this, he's not a transgenic."

"Really? Because it's obvious you and he share the same DNA but you…" Again the small man's eyes flitted from Alec to Dean, "you're not his twin you look… older but… not old enough to be a donor." He concluded.

Dean's mind was fuzzy but he had a witty, wise ass comment formulating there.

Alec spoke before he could get his uncooperative mouth to spit it out, "He's not a transgenic, he's not Manticore." He gestured over his shoulder with a jerk of his head to the warehouse. "And those grunts in there beat him to hell for information he doesn't know." Alec added angrily.

Alec was aware that Dean was leaning more and more into him his weight dragging on him. Alec adjusted his stance cocking his hip into Dean's, shifting Dean's weight more evenly.

"I agree it was unnecessary and against orders. My way would have been much easier and far less… messy," The small man said his eyes on Dean. "Sodium pentothal works more efficiently than threats and fists. Burke was under orders to hold him until I got here nothing more." He said in his defense.

His willpower and Alec's support were the only things keeping Dean on his feet, but he was losing the battle to stay present to support the young man at his side.

More of Dean's weight came Alec's way and Alec had little choice but to lower him down gently to the ground. Dean was still conscious but not by much and in his one green eye Alec saw he was still full of fight and the raw determination that had gotten him this far.

Alec stood over Dean protectively; he was ready to fight for him, fight for the man who's DNA was a part of who he was; and for Sam… he shared genes and DNA with Dean and therefor with Sam. That's when it struck him- they were blood… family.

Taking on the men inside he'd had the element of surprise, but this was different they had the drop on him and even with his speed and agility he couldn't evade bullets from five weapons, but that didn't mean he wasn't going to try; he could take out at least two of them before he went down.

"He's not transgenic," Alec repeated for the third time. "You've got me, you don't need him, let him go."

Looking at Dean's slumped, battered form the small man shook his head, "Your… friend is quite a mystery, I love a good mystery and I'm sure the people at the Phoenix Foundation will find him as intriguing as I do. I think he will be very useful."

"Phoenix Foundation… you're not Manticore?" Alec said puzzled.

The small man let loose a high-pitched girly like giggle, "My boy, Manticore doesn't exist anymore. As the mythical bird rose from its own ashes, Phoenix rose from the ashes of Manticore."

Alec shot a quick glance down at Dean but he had lost the valiant battle he'd waged against the trauma of the beating and blood loss. He was unconsciousness.

Then the small man pulled his right hand from his pocket in it he held a pistol. He lifted it holding it at his waist the barrel pointed at Alec's chest. Alec's eyes leveled on the pistol; it wasn't an ordinary pistol it was a tranquilizer dart gun and the man's finger was depressing the trigger. He blurred at the man zigzagging left and right. The dart left the gun just as he reached the small man he felt the sting of the projectile where it hit him in the left side of his chest. Ignoring it he grabbed a hold of the man turning him in the same motion pulling his slight body against his wrapping one arm around his chin and the other around his head.

Caught off guard by Alec's sudden, swift movement it took the four rifle wielding men a moment to react; they surged forward as one. However Alec's next words halted them in their tracks, "Back off or his neck snaps like a chicken bone," He growled out.

The small man wasn't fighting or struggling; he was pliant in Alec's firm grip and seemed strangely calm and silent.

"It will take more than one little tranq dart to bring me down." Alec hissed in the small man's ear.

But there was a strange kind of burning numbness spreading from where the dart was buried in his skin.

Alec let go of the man's head with one hand just long enough to pull the tiny dart out and throw it down on the ground before re-gripping the man; the small puncture wound high on his chest now exposed to the night air was stinging like he had been stung by a giant bee.

"I beg to differ; you see this is a special tranquilizer designed for X5's like yourself," he explained, calmly. "You should be starting to feel the effects right about… now."

As the words left the man's mouth Alec saw the men in front of him now had halos of light around their heads and had begun to turn in a kaleidoscopic pattern. He blinked trying to dispel the weird sight. It didn't help in fact now it was worse the faces spinning faster and faster. Weakness chased numbness as it spread through his body, it raced through his nervous system skipping along his nerves to his muscles; his hands no longer under his control fell away from the small man's head and he stumbled back and away from him swaying.

Through his shifting, swirling vision he saw the small man turn towards him and the little bastard was smiling.

His legs no longer had the strength to hold him upright and Alec went down to one knee bracing a hand on the ground his eyelids felt weighted and as much as he fought against it they pulled closed of their own volition shutting out the spinning earth and he fell into darkness.

-CP-

Manticore had approached him in 95 when he was working at the hospital in Gillette the money they had offered him was very persuasive and far outweighed his doctors salary, so he'd forsaken his oath as a doctor and taken up the offer of procuring… stealing if you like to think of it that way, DNA from a specific type of young men and woman for the DNA bank that this Project Manticore was building. Two years later Manticore offered him a position as a lab tech so he'd foregone the Hippocratic Oath and swapped broken bones, heart attacks and vehicle accidents for the world of genetic engineering.

In 2020 Manticore and the stored DNA database Manticore had spent many years building had burned to the ground and it appeared his days of gene splicing and genetic engineering were over. He went on the run when he found out that others that had worked for Manticore were being terminated to keep Manticore's operations from becoming known by the public. Doctor Alan Marshall had stayed off the radar moving from state to state taking on any job he could find, washing dishes, school crossing attendant, he'd even been a toll booth collector for a short time; anything to keep him clothed and fed. But only a few months later another of the ex-Manticore employees had somehow tracked him down and contacted him with an offer to go back into genetic engineering for an organization calling itself the Phoenix Foundation. Like the mythical bird it was named for Phoenix had arisen from the ashes of Manticore and once again he was employed in genetics and today it paid off.

The day had started out like all the others since the team had been here in Seattle; seemingly a waste of his time and Phoenix's precious resources; then things had taken a turn for the better when one of his men had radioed in; he'd sighted a transgenic using the thermal image scanning technique former NSA Agent White had come up with. That one thing had led to this moment.

He looked down at the two handsome unconscious transgenic's at his feet. Handsome did not really do them justice they were… beautiful if males could be called that. Both he believed were creations of Project Manticore they had the same chiseled face and obviously shared a DNA donor; the older one Burke's men had worked over was bare to the waist and bare foot, battered, bruised and bloody a strange looking brass amulet hung from a leather cord around his neck. Marshall ad a sense he had seen it somewhere before but he couldn't remember where. The man's age indicated he was an X4, although not ideal for what Phoenix and Kovar required there were other areas of Phoenix that would be very interested; forensics and vivisection for one would love to pull him apart and his DNA would be extremely useful. The other one the younger one was just the one Kovar was looking for.

He smiled. He knew Kovar and X5-494 had a history in PSYOPS. He will be pleased. He was the perfect transgenic for Kovar's experiment. The other transgenics they had captured one X4, a couple of X6's and a half dozen X7's had not survived Kovar's processing. The transhumans would probably survive the process but weren't acceptable due to the way they looked.

He was pulled from his musings by a tentative voice, "Dr. Marshall?"

He lifted his eyes from the young men at his feet; his men's eyes were on him, they were waiting for instructions.

"Put them in the van," He said not looking at the man who had spoken.

"Err… both of them, sir?" The man asked.

"Yes both of them. And one of you go and find out what happened to Burke and the others. That man needs to learn he cannot do whatever he wants; it would serve him right if the transgenic's killed him."

As the men moved to do his bidding he took a cell phone from his pocket punched in a number and waited, when it was picked up he barked down the line, "We're on our way with a cargo of two be ready to leave as soon as we get there."

-CP-

"Can't this thing go any faster?" Sam bit out in frustration as Logan's car coughed and jerked its way from Alec's apartment towards Harbor Island.

The car had seen better days; to say it was beat up was an understatement it even had bullet holes peppering it's metal skin.

"Hey the number of times she's been blown up and shot at I'm lucky Betsie runs at all." Logan said as he pulled out his cell phone, eyes darting from the road to the phone he hit speed dial and then the speaker button and put the phone down on the dash.

"After 3 rings a female voice answered, "Hey Logan."

"Hey Max, have you seen the news?"

"No I'm heading back to TC I had a meeting with Clemente, what's up?" Max answered.

"Alec's in trouble," Logan said.

"What's that idiot gone and done now?"

As they continued towards Harbor Island Logan gave an abridged version of what had happened and what he knew.

"Alec went after Dean on his own," Logan finished.

The pitch of Max's voice went up an octave in anger, "He's gonna get himself killed or put in a cage again, what's the address?"

"Mercer Shipping Warehouse on Harbor Island."

"I know where that is. Sam with you?"

Logan glanced at Sam "Yeah we're on our way there now."

"I'll meet you there."

Logan disconnected the call and tucked the phone in his pocket."

"Alec told me about Max," Sam said.

"So you know she's a transgenic… like Alec?"

"Yeah."

"She'll be able to help."

"Good."

They had just hit the Spokane Street Bridge when a large motorbike pulled up alongside. Long dark hair streamed back away from the small dark clad figure hunched over the handlebars.

"There's Max now." Logan said acknowledging the rider with a wave of his hand.

The rider shot them a quick glance through her riding glasses before accelerating away, crossing over into the lane in front of the car and taking a curving right turn onto Harbor Island.

Logan followed behind as the bike sped north along the west side of the island paralleling the rail tracks. The road curved around the north end of the island in a semicircle turning back to the east side of the island. Up ahead the taillight of the bike brightened and it slowed to a stop in the front of a large corrugated iron building butting up against the harbor. The bike rider was already dismounting as Logan pulled the car up beside it.

Logan reached into the glove compartment and pulled out two small flashlights; handing one to Sam, "Take this."

Sam took the proffered flashlight and they exited the car and walked towards the building where Max waited.

"Hey Max this is Sam," Logan said smiling as they approached the young, petite woman standing beside the large bike.

"Hey Sam." Max said, her full lips lifting in greeting.

Sam nodded, "Hey."

Max glanced back at the building, "Looks deserted."

"Let's find out," Logan answered.

Sam felt the reassuring weight of the Glock at his waist as the three moved toward the double sliding entrance door.

Max pulled one of the doors open surveying the interior before stepping into the dark warehouse, Sam and Logan followed her inside.

The building was in near darkness, the only light came from the windows on the right side facing onto the harbor.

Sam flicked on the flashlight Logan did the same; cautiously they moved deeper into the large building. The near darkness not an obstacle for Max as she led the way weaving around objects that loomed out of the darkness.

The center of the warehouse opened up a little; as if a space had been deliberately cleared. Sam shone the flashlight around; the beam picking out the signs that there had been some sort of a scuffle or fight; a couple of the packing cases were tipped over, spots of blood stained the floor.

"Got a bullet hole over here," Logan said the circle of light from his flashlight on a one of the nearby shipping containers.

Sam's own flashlight glinted off something metallic in the middle of the cleared space; with Logan and Max forgotten and a sick feeling in his stomach Sam moved closer keeping the beam of the flashlight trained on the object. A metal chair was bolted to the floor; wide metal cuffs were welded at the ankles and behind the backrest where it met the seat. This was an interrogation chair; beads of water clung to the metal and ran down the legs. Sam bobbed down beside the chair balancing on the balls of his feet, blood lined the edges of the wide, metal wrist cuffs; it also streaked the chair back and one of the legs. Diluted with moisture more blood turned the pool of water gathered under and around the chair a pinkish red.

"There's been a fight do you think it was Alec?" Logan said shining his own flash light around the warehouse.

"Could be." Max answered.

Pressing the back of his hand against his mouth Sam closed his eyes shutting out the sight of what he knew this was where they had interrogated his brother, "We're too late… they've gone." He whispered.

He felt a hand drop on his shoulder and squeeze gently.

"Maybe not," Max said.

Opening his eyes he looked up to his left into Max's worried warm brown eyes, "What?" He spat out.

"If White is behind this he would have…" Sam heard Logan say.

"Would have what?" Sam asked, standing, turning to face them, already knowing the answer.

"He wants all of us dead." Max said.

"So you're thinkin' that White is not behind this?" Logan said.

Max nodded, "Yeah. He would have killed them no questions asked."

"Alec said he didn't think it was White," Logan said, adding thoughtfully. "If it's not White then who?"

"I don't know, but… whoever it is they want them alive or…"

"There would be bodies," Logan finished.

"You think they're alive?" Sam asked hopefully.

"Yes I do," Max said with determination.

A glimmer of hope lit in Sam. Please let her be right? "Where would they have taken them?"

Logan answered, "Probably out of state."

Max was looking at Logan, "Logan… you tracked them to here so you should be able to track them from here, right?"

Behind the wire-rimmed glasses Logan's blue eyes darted from Max to Sam; seeing the hope in both Sam's hazel eyes and Max's dark ones, he knew to spite Max's supposed dislike of the lovable, enigmatic X5 rogue, she cared deeply for Alec, but not in the way he once believed, not sexually but as a brother… he was family, her family. "Not once they're outta state, so we need to hurry I need my computer, or… a computer."

"Terminal City is close," Max said.

Sam wasn't following how this line of conversation was getting them any closer to finding Dean and Alec.

"Dix," Logan said with a nod of his head.

"What's Dix?" Sam asked.

Max shot him a quick look then started for the warehouse door, throwing over her shoulder, "Dix is a person not a what, come on time's wastin'."

Continued in Chapter 6: Destinations

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