Crossing Paths
Disclaimer: See chapter 1
Chapter 9: Awakenings
Diane had reluctantly… very reluctantly come to terms with the fact that she would never see him again and yet three and a half hours after he'd sped away in the back of Dr. Carr's station wagon with his brother and the four others she was climbing the front steps of the two story house that the man Logan currently called home. Sam Carr had hastily scribbled the address on the piece of paper she now had stuffed in her pocket; the large bag of medicine and medical supplies she and Dr. Carr had put together that she knew she would need clutched in her hand and an oxygen cylinder secured safely in the boot of her small, old but reliable Mazda hatchback. From the dark street the large house had looked singularly uninviting and gloomily eerie; but knowing he waited on the other side of that wooden front door with the peeling paint gave her the courage she needed to reach out and rap three times on the door; the muted, faded glow of electric light probably from another room in the house pressed against the old curtains hanging at the window flanking the left side of the front door. The edge of the curtain twitched and lifted away from the frame just enough that she knew she was being observed, scrutinized by one of the occupants. A matter of seconds past before the curtain fell back against the glass a few moments after that the peeling door opened a crack and a tall, dark silhouette filled the small wedge of space.
"Diane?" The silhouette said surprise evident in what she recognized as Sam's voice.
"Yes it's me; I come baring gifts," she said lifting the large black bag up in front of her so he could see it through the small opening.
For a second nothing happened and then the door was pulled open wide to reveal all 6'5 of Sam. Diane dropped the bag back to her side as he stepped to one side; taking that as permission to enter she stepped through the door into the hallway that bisected the house, two open doors to her left, one immediately to her right and one at the end of the hallway; a flight of stairs was off to the right further down the hall, the landing at the top shrouded in darkness.
Over her shoulder she saw Sam lean out through the door and scan the street before he stepped back and closed the door before moving around to stand in front of her.
"Where's Dr. Carr I thought he was coming," Sam said cautiously.
"He was but something happened so he asked me to come," Diane answered.
"Something happened?" Sam parroted. "Is he alright?"
"Yes he is; I'll explain everything in a bit so…," Sam continued to just stare at her, his mouth partly open; she cocked her head to the side. "So… are you going to let me in or do I need a pass word?"
Sam looked a little embarrassed. "What? Yeah, I mean no, there's no pass word, err sorry, I am just surprised to see you."
"I'll explain everything," Diane repeated. "But first things first, the patients?"
She saw Sam give himself a mental shake. "Yeah of course, sorry, they're in here." He stammered, indicating to the second open doorway to her left.
"Lead on MacDuff." Diane replied with a nod and a smile.
The room into which Sam led her was sparsely furnished most of the space taken up with what she assumed was Logan's computers and electronic equipment; the wallpaper was discolored and faded its original color impossible to identify. Against one wall was a bookcase crammed with old dog-eared paperbacks and hard covers with worn cracked spines, colorful stained glass windows flanked the fireplace where a fire roared and crackled.
And there he was; still wearing the scrubs he'd left the hospital in; clothing aside he looked like a king on his throne seated as he was on a battered high-backed brocade arm chair except for the fact that his face was pale and he was glaring at her his green eyes boring holes through her.
The younger version of him that she had seen at the hospital the young man Dr. Carr had referred to as Alec was lying motionless on a combination sofa/daybed a blanket pulled up to his shoulders; the glow from the overhead light reflecting dully off of his slack, handsome features. The girl Max, Logan and the big canine mutant Joshua were absent.
Diane returned her attention to Dean she wasn't surprised to see anger on his pale face.
Diane straightened preparing herself to meet his anger.
A war of annoyed and pleasantly surprised battled for control inside Dean when Sam led Diane into the room.
"What the hell are you doing here?" Dean growled angrily.
"Nice to see you too, Dean," Diane replied moving from the doorway past Sam to stand in front of him, Sam trailed closely behind.
"Sam why'd you let her in? You should have sent her away." Dean said shifting his glare to his brother.
At that moment Logan came into the room a large steaming mug in each hand. Seeing her he pulled to a stop abruptly, brown liquid that looked like coffee sloshing over the lips of the mugs. "Diane? What are you doing here?"
"That's what I said," Dean answered, his eyes back on the petite brunette.
"I spoke to Sam, not this Sam, Sam Carr I mean; he said he was coming," Logan said.
Diane looked at Logan. "How long ago?"
"About forty five minutes ago; why?" Logan answered.
"Must have been before he spoke to me," Diane mused.
Diane's blue eyes went from Logan to Sam before settling on Dean. "'I'd just finished my shift I was about to leave the hospital when Dr. Carr took me aside and he… well he told me everything-"
"He shouldn't have done that, the less you know the better." Dean interjected.
Diane's eyes were still pinned to Dean, "Well I know, so I can't very well unknow, can I?"
Dean pursed his lips then let out an annoyed breath but said nothing, he couldn't argue with that logic.
"He told me about that man with the scar," Diane touched her cheek, "and what he and the people he works for did to you, Dean… and to Alec." Diane paused she seemed to be waiting for another explosive reaction from Dean. "Doctor Carr also told me you are the good guys and all about your… situation and where you're from, although… I'm still having trouble believing the time travel thing." She finished with a small laugh.
For the first time since she'd entered the room Sam spoke. "I've gotta agree with Dean, he shouldn't have told you and it doesn't explain why the doctor didn't come." He said.
Diane looked at him. "Dr. Carr told me that the colonel had left a man at the hospital. He was watching his every move and he couldn't take the risk of coming here and leading them to you so… he asked me to come and here I am."
"Diane I told you at the hospital I didn't want you involved in this, you could get seriously hurt or… worse." Dean said his tone softening with concern.
"And I told you that I'm already involved, so untwist your boxers and deal with it," Diane replied. "Besides if he hadn't of asked me I would have gladly volunteered in a heartbeat," she said, placing the bag on the floor and slipping out of her short black jacket. "I want to help."
"A wise man once told me never volunteer for anything," Dean quoted as Sam stepped forward and took the jacket from her placing it on one of the nearby desks.
She had changed from her work uniform and was now dressed in black Capri pants and a tight fitting blue button up shirt that clung to her petite shape, outlining her small breasts and tiny waist. Dean wondered if he wrapped his hands around her would the thumbs and fingertips of each of his hands meet? He had to suppress the sudden desire to find out. Even in the poorly lit room he could see the color of the shirt matched the sapphire color of her eyes.
Diane opened the black bag then reached out and took Dean's fingers into her small hand briefly examining the IV catheter taped down on the back his hand.
Dean inhaled the pleasant light floral perfume he remembered from when he'd woken up in the hospital as she bent over him looking up at her but seeing only the parting in her shiny black hair.
Dropping his hand back to the arm of the chair she reached into the bag searching for something before pulling out an IV bag and some tubing. She glanced up at the ceiling light then around the room. "I need more light, that lamp work?"
"Yeah," Logan answered. He was still standing mugs in hand near what Diane assumed was the door to the kitchen.
"Sam can you bring it over here please?"
"Sure," Sam answered doing as she asked bringing the lamp closer, plugging it into the closest wall socket and flicking the switch.
"Thanks," Diane said pulling on a pair of latex gloves.
"What are you going to do?" Dean asked.
"I'm starting IV fluids and an antibiotic infusion," she explained reaching once again for his hand.
"Take care of Alec first," Dean answered pulling his hand out of reach.
"Dean, don't do that." Sam said.
"Don't do what?" Dean enquired. "What is it I'm doing Sam?"
"You know what. You always put everybody before yourself," Sam shook his head. "No not this time."
Dean had many bad habits, putting himself at the end of the queue as if he was somehow less worthy when in fact the opposite was true; was for Sam the worst of them.
Diane held her hand out waiting. "Listen to your brother Dean, your color is bad and by the blue tinge to your lips…," Diane's stunning eyes flicked to his mouth. "Your oxygen level is low so the sooner you let me do this the sooner I can take of Alec."
Dean looked from Sam to Diane before giving in. "Oh all right," he said bringing his hand back within reach, muttering under his breath. "Ganging up and bullying an injured man."
Logan had been watching silently from the kitchen doorway an expression of mild humor on his face.
As Diane began to clean the catheter with an alcohol swab he moved as if released from an invisible force holding him on the spot. Crossing the room he put one of the mugs down beside Dean on a makeshift table that was actually made up of a pile of books; the other he handed to Sam who stood behind and to one side of her watching her administer to his brother closely.
"Thanks," Diane heard Sam mutter.
"Is that coffee?" Diane asked without looking up.
"Yeah freshly made," Logan replied. "Do you want-"
"Take it away," Diane interrupted. "Coffee is the last thing Dean should be drinking it's a diuretic."
"A diuwhatnow?" Dean asked not sure he wanted to know the answer.
"In plain English coffee dehydrates, it sucks all the moisture and fluids from your gut." Diane explained.
He was correct in his assumption that he didn't want to know. "Well… that sounds… gross," Dean said a grimace crossing his face.
Diane ignored his comment. "You are already dangerously dehydrated from the blood loss, trauma and the surgery," Diane said. "You really should be in the hospital." she added.
"Not happening," Dean stated.
She had finished cleaning the catheter and the end of the tubing and was in the process of attaching the IV line.
Logan picked up the mug from the makeshift table and headed back to the kitchen. Dean followed the retreat of the coffee mug with longing but remained silent.
"Sam there's an oxygen cylinder in the trunk of my car would you mind bringing it in for me?"
"Sure," Sam said. "Car keys?"
"In my jacket pocket," Diane waved a latex gloved hand in the general direction of her jacket.
Sam turned placing the mug down on the desk, well out of Dean's reach. He picked up Diane's jacket pushing his long fingers into one pocket feeling only a crumpled piece of paper; in the other pocket his fingers immediately closed around the keys.
Dean had remained quiet after his curt answer to Diane's remark about him being in a hospital. "So… whiskey then?" he said his face serious, watching Diane as she hooked the IV bag onto the top of the lamp.
"Most definitely not, "Diane replied vehemently, "whiskey is-" She stopped her preparation of the large syringe for the antibiotic infusion and glanced from the syringe in her hand to Dean her sapphire eyes widening when she caught the hint of a smile lifting Dean's split, swollen, blue tinged lips and the slight crinkling of the skin around his green eyes. "Very funny wise guy."
Sam turned back from the desk keys in hand. "I'll go get that oxygen," he said his voice colored with barely suppressed humor.
A half hour later Dean had to admit to himself that he felt better after twenty minutes on the oxygen, his head was clearer and his breathing was easier.
In that time Diane had taken Alec's vitals, blood pressure and heart rate; she tested his reaction to stimuli examined his pupil reaction with a pen light and also started him on IV fluids.
"How's he doin'?" Dean asked pulling the oxygen mask away from his face. "How long before he… wakes up?"
Diane straightened up from beside Alec, peeling off the latex gloves she turned to Dean. "From what Dr. Carr told me there's no change," she answered. Seeing Dean's concern for the younger man she added. "The catatonia is actually a good thing it's the brain's way of coping with what they did to him, it's shut itself down so it can recover, kind of like hibernation, it also gives his body time to rid itself of that chemical they were pumping into him, the IV fluids will help to flush it out his system, worrying about him won't do him or you any good so put that oxygen mask back on or do you want me to come over there and duct tape it on?"
"You wouldn't dare," Dean answered.
"Oh yeah just try me," Diane said, planting her hand on her hip.
"Okay bossy," Dean growled under his breathe, replacing the mask over his mouth and nose.
"Just call it tough love," Diane replied, flashing him a smile.
At that moment Sam shuffled backwards into the room manhandling and dragging a mattress behind him, a moment later Logan appeared at the mattress' other end.
"Found this in the basement, it was underneath a tarpaulin so it's clean and in pretty good nick… considering," Sam explained.
"That's perfect, thanks guys," Diane replied.
"Perfect for what?" Dean questioned, once again pulling the mask from his face, seeing Diane's lips press into a thin line he quickly settled it back into place.
"For sleeping on of course," Diane answered.
Diane's threat forgotten Dean pulled the oxygen mask off again.
"Oh no, you are not staying," Dean said.
"Oh yes I am staying," Diane replied.
"No, you're not." Dean fired back.
"Yes I am. I'm staying; I want to monitor you and Alec through the rest of the night."
"I don't need monitoring and you just said Alec needed time."
"Dean… I. Am. Staying." Diane enunciated each word.
Dean knew he was losing this argument, so he tried a different tack. "Don't you have a life to get back to and work at the hospital? What about that?"
"My dance card is empty at the moment and my next shift starts at 4pm tomorrow, plenty of time."
Sam observed this battle of wills his head whipping back and forth between them, much like he was watching a tennis match.
"Sam you wanna' help me out here? Make her go," Dean said with a sidelong look at his brother.
"Dean, Diane said you should be in hospital, she stays," Sam answered.
"Thanks a lot traitor," Dean replied shooting Sam a quick glare that could kill with its intensity.
"Don't give me that look; It's for your own good," Sam replied firmly.
Dean rubbed his fingertips across his forehead then rested his head in his hand, his eyes downcast, "I want you to be safe," he said, his voice low and concerned. Because no one is safe anywhere near me.
Diane moved to kneel in front of him.
Sensing her nearness Dean let his hand drop into his lap but didn't look at her.
Diane took Dean's hands in hers avoiding the catheter and IV tubing she squeezed them gently. "Dean, look at me," Diane pleaded.
Dean resisted for a moment then raised his eyes.
She scanned his face noting again how his freckles stood out against his pale skin. She smiled when his green eyes at last met hers. "I am safe and I'm staying."
-CP-
Dean was awakened by a soft touch on his hand; still floating somewhere between sleeping and waking he pulled his eyes open. Diane was leaning over him it was her warm touch he felt. He studied her for a moment her glossy black hair had fallen forward over her fine boned cheeks, her brows pulling together in concentration as she slowly infused another syringe of antibiotics into the IV line. As if sensing his scrutiny her eyes flicked up to meet his for a moment before going back to the job at hand.
"Hi, sorry I didn't mean to wake you," Diane said.
"That's alright I was enjoying the view," Dean said with a ghost of a smile.
Dean saw the flush of color rise up her throat, to settle on the porcelain skin of her cheeks. The very feminine reaction to his comment and her close proximity had him wanting to lean into her and press his lips to the rosy colored flesh.
"Flattery will get you nowhere," Diane said in a thinly veiled attempt to conceal her reaction to his complement and nearness.
Dean raised his eyebrows at her lie. "Oh really?" he said.
He knew the effect he had on women it was something that came naturally to him; the Dean Winchester charm and that effect was written all over her lovely face and clearly visible in her posture.
Diane didn't answer him she kept her head down unable to meet his eyes; she prayed that she had hidden the truth.
Pulling his eyes from her bowed head he looked around the dark room; at some stage after he'd fallen asleep the light had been turned off. Dean searched out his brother… no not brother… brothers. Sam was close by; asleep in the other chair or rather overflowing the other chair; long limbs sticking out at all angles, head cocked to one side, his mouth slightly open and he was snoring softly. Alec lay still on the day bed and as far as Dean could tell Alec hadn't moved.
Still looking at Alec Dean said. "How's Alec doin'?"
"Much the same; as I said he needs time," Diane replied without looking up.
Dean nodded to himself, his eyes leaving Alec. He saw that the fire had burned down to a smolder the occasional flicker of a small flame flaring up and dying just as quickly.
In front of the fire Logan lay on the threadbare rug he was using his forearm as a pillow.
It was still dark outside. "What time is it?" Dean asked quietly so as not to wake the others.
Diane twisted her wrist and glanced down at her wrist watch. "Ten after five."
Dean had no idea what time he'd fallen asleep; during that time he'd slipped over to one side of the chair and the muscles across his back and in his neck were cramping. He shifted a little to ease the cramp and to straighten up; mistake; the pain meds he'd been receiving in the hospital had worn off as he slept and even that slight movement sent a wave of pain up his spine into the base of his skull and set his left side and his shoulder on fire with white hot pain; his body sending him a not so subtle reminder that he was still broken. "Son of a bitch." He hissed out, pressing his hand against his side as if with that touch he could make the pain go away.
"Pain meds worn off?" Diane asked, looking at him with concern now that she'd finished the infusion and had recapped the catheter.
Dean felt sweat break out along his forehead and upper lip. He nodded pressing his lips together as his mouth flooded with saliva and nausea hit his stomach.
"I've got something… that is if you want it?" Diane said, disposing of the empty syringe and the latex gloves in a plastic container Logan had provided.
"I think I do," Dean answered honestly, his voice shaking with pain.
She reached into the bag of medical supplies. "This will work fast," she said producing a small vial and a capped syringe from the bag. "If you need to… use the facilities I suggest you do it first."
"Facilities?" his repeat of the word facilities brought forward the niggle that had been at the back of his mind since he'd woken to slam him with its sudden urgency, so much so he had to fight the urge to cross his legs. "Yeah might be a good idea." Dean answered wriggling a little in the chair.
Diane laid the syringe and vial down and reached out grasping his arm.
"What are you doing?" Dean asked as he shifted forward in the chair preparing to stand.
"What does it look like I'm doing?" Diane answered. "I'm assisting you to the bathroom."
Dean pulled away from her, "I've been going to the toilet by myself since I was 3 thank you very much I don't need help."
"Really?"
"Yes really," Dean replied stubbornly.
"Alright tough guy if you manage to even get out of that chair you'll be lucky if you can take two steps before you face plant on the floor and that will lead to you re-breaking ribs and puncturing a lung again." Diane said as if she were talking to a disobedient child.
Seeing the look on her face made Dean determined to prove her wrong; pressing his lips together, bracing his hands on the arms of the chair he tightened his stomach muscles and pushed up out of the chair at least he thought he had. Pain intense and hot once again swept across his ribs and up his spine.
"Son of a bitch," he growled out for a second time on a hiss of air, falling back into the chair one hand snaking around his ribs, the other gripping the chairs arm his eyes squeezed shut.
A moment later he felt her cool small hand along his jaw and against his cheek, her thumb smoothing a path along the tender flesh under his eye.
"Dean… I hate to say I told you so…," Diane said her tone soft and caring. "It's okay to need help once in a while."
Dean opened his eyes and looked into her wide sapphire eyes. She smiled down at him. If he'd been able he would have pulled her down into arms and ravished her lips and slender throat with kisses. Instead he tore his eyes away from hers looking down he nodded.
"Okay," his voice a low tremble of sound.
The next few minutes were a blur of pain and embarrassment for Dean as Diane assisted him up from the chair across the room through the kitchen as if he were an invalid. They stopped at a sliding door in an alcove off the kitchen; Dean was grateful as his legs were trembling with weakness and his breathing harsh. As Diane slid the door open her hand still on his arm Dean wondered for a moment how Diane knew where to go but his immediate need had him pushing forward into the room that was a laundry with a toilet and hand basin tucked away in the far corner.
"I can take it from here." Dean said turning in the doorway one hand on the door.
"Okay, but don't lock it. I'll be right outside if you need me." Diane answered.
"Yes Mom." Dean said as he pulled the door shut doing as she had asked; leaving it unlocked.
Dean knew Diane was lingering closely outside, ready to spring into action if Dean needed her. The floor tiles were cold and hard against his bare feet as after taking care of the urgent business at hand Dean flushed the toilet then turned to the small hand basin; the faucet squeaked in protest when he turned it; water sputtered out at first before it turned to a stream. He let the cool water run over his hands before cupping them and splashing water on his face, twisting off the faucet with another squeak he gripped the edges of the basin, bracing himself he lifted his eyes to the small 8 by 10 cracked, warped mirror attached to a piece of twine and hung from a nail hammered into the wall. Water ran down his pale, drawn face in rivulets, a few drops catching on the five days growth on his cheeks that would become a beard in just a few more days. Glints of ginger could already be seen amongst the stubble before the drops fell dripping off the edge of his jaw and chin into the basin. Dark smudges shadowed the underside of his bloodshot eyes making the green irises appear brighter almost iridescent. The multiple cuts on his face and lips from the beating he'd taken in the warehouse although healing were lined with multicolored bruises spreading outwards to yellow at the outside edges. More bruising deeper and purple in color surrounded his left eye and covered a lot of the left side and parts the right side of his face. Those damned freckles across his cheeks and nose stood out like beacons against the remaining unmarked pale skin. In short his face was a mess.
With a sigh Dean pulled his eyes away from his reflection searching the small area for a towel. To one side of the basin a small hand towel hung over a hand rail; after he had gently patted the water from his tender skin he replaced the towel on the rack.
Sliding the door open he wasn't surprised to find Diane leaning against it; her ear had been pressed against it as if she had been listening. After another painful return trip to the lounge room with Diane once again supporting him Dean lowered himself down into the chair with a groan, closing his eyes he leaned his head back against the worn fabric nausea and pain bringing saliva into the back of throat; he felt a pull on the back of his hand and opened his eyes as Diane injected the pain meds into the IV catheter.
Taking a deep breath Dean attempted to force the nausea and sickness away. "You must have been a girl scout," he said.
"What makes you say that?" Diane asked disposing of another empty syringe.
"Because you're so capable and always prepared," Dean answered.
"As a matter of fact I was," Diane said. "I had all the badges as well." She added with pride.
"Knew it," Dean said.
Sam's light snores and the occasional crackle of the dying fire filled the silence that followed.
Dean sensed that something was on Diane's mind. "Dean… can I ask you something?" She said a moment later.
"Ask away," Dean answered.
"I was only 10 when the pulse hit," she started. "I don't really remember much of what it was like before."
Dean watched her for a moment; he knew where this was going.
"What's it like… in your time in 2007?" Diane asked, leaning the natural dip of her lower back against the nearest desk.
The shot was already taking effect the pain was beginning to back off a little.
Dean chewed on the inside of his cheek, contemplating where to start. Was America really any better or any different before 2009? There is evil, greed and hatred; he and Sam had seen it all; they had been fighting it their whole lives. Sure America or what he had seen in this time was uglier, dirtier and darker it also had more graffiti but nothing was really any different to pre-pulse. He looked at her; at the look of expectation captured on her lovely face, her bottom lip caught between her teeth.
He opened his mouth unsure what to say how to answer such a loaded question. But what came out was not an answer to her question; as in that moment his head had become fuzzy and his limbs felt heavy and weighted as if they weren't apart of him. He felt… odd. He knew this feeling it was how he felt when he was given Morphine. "Whoa, you weren't kidding when you said it works fast; what was that?" Dean asked, already knowing the answer.
"Morphine," Diane answered, straightening away from the desk she crossed to him reaching out she brushed a few damp strands of hair away from his forehead.
"The good stuff huh?" Dean stated his voice sounding to his own ears slightly slurred.
"Nothing but the best for you, Dean," Diane replied picking up a glass of water from the book table she lifted his hand and placed the glass against the inside of his fingers then wrapped her small hand around his fingers so the glass was firmly in his grasp before guiding it to his lips. "I want you to drink this whilst you are still able."
Dean opened his mouth as she tipped the glass against his lips swallowing most of the water.
"Good," She said satisfied he'd drank enough, pulling the glass away and taking it from his now slack grasp she placed it back on the table.
Dean's senses were hazing at an alarming rate and the pain from minutes before had melted away to almost nothing; with a sigh of relief Dean closed his eyes. "You need to get some sleep," he slurred a moment before the morphine carried him away.
-CP-
Sam awoke to the smell of coffee, a stiff neck and an aching back. He hadn't expected to fall asleep as the chair he'd slept in was as comfortable as a pile of rocks. Guess exhaustion trumped comfort. Straight away his eyes went to Dean; he was deeply asleep in the other chair, his color was better and his breathing easy and at some point whilst Sam had slept Diane had taken him off the oxygen.
Rubbing at his face with short nails he felt the scratch of stubble accumulated through days of not shaving. Running his hands back through his hair then reaching his arms up Sam interlocked his fingers and cat stretched out the muscles along his back and arms.
"Morning," Diane said quietly from his right.
Lowering his arms he looked that way; Diane was standing beside Alec having just swapped out an empty IV bag for a full one. "Morning, any change?" Sam answered in the same hushed tone.
Diane sighed as she checked the flow of fluids entering Alec's system. "Well his eyes are ever so slightly reacting light now and that's a step in the right direction, but apart from that there's little change I'm afraid."
"Do you think he can recover from this?" Sam asked.
"He's young and strong and with his genetics I'm hopeful."
"So you know about… Alec, Max and the others?" Sam asked.
"Sam, I live in post-pulse Seattle I know all about Manticore and the transgenics living in Terminal City."
"So it doesn't bother you?" Sam asked.
"No. Not one tiny bit. I don't care how they came to be but… as far as I'm concerned as long as they don't hurt anyone break any laws and behave themselves they have a right to live their lives in peace just like the rest of us."
Sam shook his head and smiled. He stood from the chair stiffly looking back at Dean. "What about Dean?"
"He no longer needs the oxygen or the fluids; I gave him something for the pain a couple of hours or so ago knocked him right out, he'll sleep for quite a while yet. The antibiotic infusions will continue for a few more days. It's going to take some time but he'll mend."
"Good… that's good," Sam said, looking around the room. "Where's Logan?"
"In the kitchen," Diane said, trying to stifle a yawn with the back of her hand.
"Did you manage to get any sleep?"
"Not really," Diane answered truthfully.
"You must be exhausted?" Sam stated.
Diane nodded reaching up to massage the muscles at the back of her neck in a weary gesture. "You'd think working at the hospital I'd be used to sleepless nights."
"Why don't you try to catch a few Z's?"
"But what if-" Diane started.
"Logan and I are here." Sam cut off her protest.
Diane looked from Dean to Alec then back to Sam." Okay, but if anything at all happens-"
"We'll wake you." Sam assured her.
Sam found Logan seated at the kitchen table a steaming cup of coffee beside him; he was tapping a pen on the table looking down at several sheets of paper in front of him.
He looked up when Sam came in. "Hey, help yourself to coffee." he said.
Sam crossed the room and poured a cup from the carafe, pulling out a chair he sat down opposite Logan. "What you working on?" Sam asked before lifting the cup and sipping at the hot beverage.
Logan looked back down at the papers. "Eyes Only broadcast, thought I'd inform Seattle about what's going on."
"Do you think it will help?" Sam asked.
"Well it can't hurt, that's for sure."
Sam nodded, taking another sip of the surprisingly good coffee. "Logan I want to thank you for all your help and for the safe house, I don't know what we would have done without you." Sam said.
"Alec is like family to Max, like a brother and now he's a good friend to me."
"Now… are you saying he wasn't always?"
Logan shook his head. "I don't know how much Alec has told you but when he first came to Seattle he was the true blue Manticore soldier on a mission. Unlike Max, Alec had spent his whole entire life at Manticore, it was his home and all he'd ever known was discipline, mission and Manticore; for him and a lot of the other X5's, sixes and sevens Manticore was all there was; Alec knew nothing else. His mission at the time was to help Max escape from Manticore, follow her to Seattle and make sure that the virus Max was unaware she was carrying a virus that was specifically targeted to my DNA killed me; because I being Eyes Only was a thorn in their side and needed to be eliminated. Then Max destroyed Manticore and everything was gone there was no discipline, no mission, no home to go back to; it was a whole new world, a new life, a new beginning for him. It took Alec a while to settle into his new life. Max and I had more than a couple of… issues with Alec at the beginning."
It was on the tip of his tongue to ask what those issues were. "But not anymore," he asked.
"No not any more, it's all in the past," Logan answered. "To be truthful a lot of it wasn't really Alec's fault he seems to have a knack for attracting trouble."
"Sounds like someone else I know," Sam mused.
"Let me guess, Dean," Logan said pointing his finger in the direction of where Dean slept in the lounge room.
Sam nodded at Logan's perceptiveness. "Oh yeah, he's a trouble magnet."
Logan smiled. "In the last year Alec has more than made up for the things he did."
Sam took another sip of his coffee, thinking about and again tempted to ask what things Alec had done.
"Hey Sam, I was going to ask you if you've still got that address the one you never got to check out before Burke nabbed Dean?" Logan asked.
"Rocky's address?" Sam clarified.
"Yeah."
"No… Why?" Sam asked curious.
"Thought maybe we could check it out see if this Rocky is there," Logan explained, tapping the pen against the table.
"Dean had it on him when Burke took him," Sam said. It could be anywhere between that warehouse and Selina." Sam thought for a moment. "But… you know what… I might be able recognize the street name, you got a map of sector 11?" Sam asked.
"Yeah of course," Logan said standing and walking into the living room.
A minute later Logan had bought up a sector map on the computer.
Sam studied the screen his eyes scanning sector 11. "There that's it East Spring Street," he said stabbing a finger at the screen.
"You sure?"
"Yeah, I remembered it from when I wrote it down and gave it to Dean."
"East Spring is long; we need to narrow it down," Logan said eyeing the spot Sam had indicated on the map.
Sam ran a hand through his hair his hazel eyes lost in thought. "It was a high number… eleven… thirty two." He finished triumphantly.
"1132? You're sure?" Logan queried.
"Absolutely positive."
"Okay, let's go check it out." Logan said.
"Check what out?" Max's hushed voice said from behind them.
Sam straightened spinning around.
Max stood behind them; she had entered the house passed the sleeping occupants without so much as a squeak of a floorboard.
"Hey Max," Logan said quietly, seemingly unfazed by her sudden appearance. "You come to check on Alec?"
"Yeah," Max said watching Alec. "No improvement?"
"No, not really," Logan answered.
Max sighed, her eyes still on Alec.
Logan was still looking at Max. "Diane said he needs time, his brain has shut down to give his system and his body time to recover."
Max nodded. "Why is Diane here and not Sam?" Max asked. "I thought he was supposed to come?"
"He was. But Burke left a man at the hospital to watch him; he believes it too risky so he asked Diane to come." Logan explained.
"Are we sure we can trust her? I mean we don't really know her not like we know Sam." Max said in a whisper afraid to be overheard by the sleeping nurse only a few yards away.
"Sam knows her and he trusts her enough to ask her to come," Logan replied.
"Yeah your right," Max said with a small shake of her head. "So, check out what?" she asked going back to the conversation she'd walked in on.
"An address."
"Who's address?"
"Rocky." Sam answered.
"Who's Rocky?" Max queried. "Oh Rocky the guy that dropped you here."
"Yeah that guy," Logan said.
"It's a long shot but it's worth a try," Sam added.
"I'll go," Max volunteered.
"You sure?" Logan said.
"Yeah," Max answered, turning away.
Sam took a step to follow her. "Wait," he said momentarily forgetting to keep his voice to a whisper. "I'm coming with you, he knows me. If by some miracle he is there and he sees someone he doesn't know he'll most likely rabbit." He said quietly.
At that Max turned back to face the two men.
"That's a good idea; I'll stay here keep an eye on things and work on the Eyes Only broadcast." Logan said in the same hushed tones.
-CP-
Sam had his arms wrapped around Max's tiny waist; his chest and the flat planes of his stomach pressed hard against the curve of her slender back.
He'd forgotten that Max rode a motorbike; a very powerful motorbike. It was one thing he'd never done before. Sam admitted to himself that it was quite an experience, exhilarating and completely terrifying at the same time.
Max's long, dark hair whipped at his face, but there was no way he was going to let go of her to brush it out of the way. The wind against his own skin and through his hair was cool although the day was sunny and warm; his loosely buttoned shirt billowed out behind him, his tee-shirt riding up against the hard planes of his stomach and the muscles along his back.
Max handled the powerful machine with ease negotiating the Seattle streets with great expertise and Sam found himself relaxing into the ride his body becoming like one with Max's, her body and his leaning, blending, melding as she steered the bike into the corners.
Sam was a little sorry it was over when Max slowed the bike and pulled to a stop.
He looked at the surroundings. There was nothing here at least not anymore; where homes or buildings had once stood there was only flat empty weed covered blocks of land, the boundary lines between each property almost undistinguishable except for an odd fence post or trampled fence wire. "Why we stopping here?" he asked.
Max glanced at him over her shoulder. "This is it Sam this where 1132 East Spring Street is supposed to be."
Sam shook his head in denial. "No there's got to be some mistake." He said swinging his leg off the bike he walked across the sidewalk and over the property boundary into what had once been a front yard.
"Great that's just great, how the hell are we gonna find him now?" Sam said kicking at a nearby stone in frustration, sending it skidding across the lot. "He's the only one who can get us back."
Max had followed him into the yard; she was standing close behind him. He felt her small hand on his arm. "Sorry Sam."
"Guess I should have known that it wouldn't be that easy and we could cop a break," Sam said looking down at the toes of his dusty shoes. "But we knew it was a long shot."
"Yeah we did."
"Thanks," Sam said, looking down at her over his shoulder. "For you know, helping us out."
"No problem I only wish we could do more," Max said, glancing around the empty lot.
"I'm starting to think maybe Dean and I aren't meant to go back." Sam said following her line of sight.
"Yeah, maybe you're right," she gave his arm a gentle squeeze. "Come on let's get out of here, maybe Logan can find him, he's good at that stuff."
Once they were seated back on the bike Max looked at him over her shoulder. "You hungry? There's a terrific bakery not far from here."
-CP-
Sam and Max had been gone for forty five minutes when after checking on the sleeping occupants in the lounge room Logan sat down at the computer with the notes he'd been jotting down at the kitchen table in front of him all the things he wanted to include in his broadcast the most important of which he'd underlined several times. Securing the microphone in place he removed his glasses and everything ready Logan took a deep breath and hit the connect button on the computer. "This is a streaming freedom video," he began.
Across the room Alec's eyes darted under closed lids, his long sooty lashes quivered and lifted, his wide pupils shrank rapidly as he stared up at the peeling paint on the ceiling for a moment before he sat up; the blanket covering him sliding down to his waist. Feeling the pull of the IV taped in place at the crook of his elbow the attached tubing tethering him to the sofa he gripped the IV in his other hand and without hesitation ripped the line free of his flesh; blood welled out from the insertion point and quickly began to run down the inside of his arm. Ignoring the blood he stood with fluid grace the blanket sliding the rest of the way to the floor pooling at his feet.
"…only free voice left in this city."
Something about the voice or the words the voice was speaking had triggered his awakening; as if a switch had been flipped deep in his subconscious; he had no choice but to obey he had a mission to fulfill. Blood that was still flowing from the IV puncture wound had run down the inside of his arm and was dripping from the ends of his fingers onto the carpet leaving a crimson trail as on bare feet he turned and stepped towards the man who was speaking the trigger words. The man had his back to him; he was seated at a computer and oblivious to his stealthy, silent, deadly approach. Alec stopped directly behind him bracing his feet slightly apart he reached out wrapping his hands around the man's throat and began squeezing.
The man's reaction was instantaneous; the words cut off at the sudden pressure around his throat; he reached up to try to loosen the rapidly tightening hands that were cutting off his life giving air supply.
A sound awakened Dean; a sound he thought he should know but couldn't immediately identify. Keeping his eyes closed Dean listened for a moment… waiting to hear if the sound was repeated; and it was only moments later. Sounds like… someone… choking?
Dean pried his eyes open, blinking against the brightness that met him, so bright it felt like it was burning holes his retinas and penetrating into the back of his brain. With a few seconds a lot of blinking and a groan he was able to keep his eyes open and he could see; the sun streamed in through the stained glass windows flanking the fireplace sending a kaleidoscope of colors across the worn carpet. Turning his head away from the brightness he saw Diane, she was asleep on the mattress beside him the reflecting colored sunlight winking and bouncing off her glossy ebony hair that lay across her pale, fine-boned cheek.
The choking sound came again and he frowned, groggy from the remnants of the morphine still swirling around in his system; he turned his eyes in the direction of the sound unsure he was seeing things or was he still as sleep and this was some kind of morphine induced nightmare. Because what he saw was Alec, no longer comatose and lying still on the day bed but awake and standing across the room and… Dean blinked again; he had his hands wrapped tightly around Logan's throat. Logan was seated at a computer terminal his body ridged and straining back against the back rest of a swivel chair; the man was clawing at Alec's hands trying desperately to loosen the younger man's hold.
Dean felt his skin pull tight in reaction to what he was seeing. His own wounds forgotten he pushed himself up out of the chair and across the small space to the men locked in a battle of life and death.
He pressed his chest hard against Alec's back and grasped each of his hands just above the wrists, and pulled trying to pry them away from Logan's throat. He could feel a wet slickness coating Alec's left hand and arm that could be nothing else other than blood whether the blood had come from Alec or Logan he didn't know. The muscles in Alec's forearms were like bands of hardened steel a seemingly immovable force. "Alec… Alec, what are you doing? Alec stop you're killing him," Dean said through clenched teeth, tugging harder at his clone's wrists.
Instead of his letting go Dean's words seemed to have the opposite effect; Alec maintained his iron grip on Logan's throat and in a blur of movement he whipped his head back in a reverse head butt at the same time tightening the muscles in his shoulders and upper back and pushing forcefully backwards.
The head butt caught Dean across his nose and mouth and broke his own hold on Alec; his vision went white as pain crashed through his face; blood surged down the back of his nose filling his nostrils and his mouth and was already running down his chin as the healing cuts on his bottom lip re-opened. Half blind and his face a mass of pain Dean stumbled back and away causing more pain from his broken ribs to slam his side making him curse. "Son of a bitch!" he growled.
"Dean!" he heard Diane shout and then he felt her small hand grip his arm, steadying him.
Dean blinked several times before he was able to bring Diane's concerned face into focus.
Over her shoulder he could see Alec his hands still clamped around Logan's throat and it was clear Logan was losing the battle against the transgenics powerful hold. As Dean watched he saw Logan's grip on Alec's hands begin to loosen and his hands started to drop away.
Grasping Diane by her slender arms Dean moved her to one side and out of the way at the same time he scanned the room looking for something he could use as a weapon something to subdue Alec before it was too late for Logan; his eyes landed on the book table beside the chair he had just vacated and he grabbed up the top book a thick, leather bound hard cover; gripping the heavy tome in both hands he stepped forward and swung it at the back of Alec's head. Apart from the book's impact causing his head to bounce forward a miniscule amount it had no effect on his grip around Logan's throat. Dean drew the book back again and with as much force as he could muster from his fragile, waning strength he hit Alec again. This time it had the desired effect. With a mixture of relief and concern he watched as Alec crumpled to the floor his hands sliding from Logan's throat.
Logan slumped forward over the desk blood coated one side of his throat; he immediately began gasping, coughing and dragging air into his oxygen starved lungs.
Dean wanted to go to him to ask him if he was alright but he felt the tremble low in his core and it was spreading through him; out of his control his limbs began to shake and tremble.
"What the Hell is going on?" Dean heard Sam's worried, confused tone.
Dean looked up; Diane still stood where he had pushed her; her blue eyes, large in her pale face turned from Dean to look at Sam; Dean saw her hands too were trembling in reaction.
Sam stood just inside the lounge room doorway in one hand he held a bulging brown shopping bag, a frown of confusion dissected his forehead, his hair was windblown away from his face his hazel eyes flitting between the room's occupants before settling on Dean. "Dean?"
Dean wiped the side of his trembling hand over the wetness he felt dripping down his chin, blood from his nose, mouth and split lip. He lifted his hand looking at the bright red blood smeared over it, his other hand still gripping the book; the book with an ornate cross and the words Holy Bible embossed in gold lettering across the black leather cover. "A little late with the backup Sammy," Dean said reaching out with a blood covered hand to grasp the back of the chair Sam had been occupying during the night, strangely his aim was off his fingertips brushed the fabric and slid off to the side and he knew he was going down. The bible fell from his hand and hit the carpet with a dull thud. Through rapidly tunneling vision he saw Sam start towards him but he didn't feel his brother's arms wrap around him preventing him from hitting the floor.
Continued in Chapter 10: Fighting Back the Darkness