Hello, there! Another chapter ready, I'll be posting them as I write. Before we continue with the fun, I wanted to thank all of you who reviewed, and also thank you who put this on alert/favs. Now, guys, almost 100 alerts and only 19 reviews is not very fair, is it? Take just a few seconds to tell me what you think, it's fun, I promise, Alex would like you to review.
Special thanks to Halimede, who pointed out a mistake last chapter!
I made a new banner for the story, the old one made everybody in it look like a smurff. Here: (just take off the spaces) http : / / i930 . photobucket . com / albums / ad142 / DarkW / MyCovers / renegades _ 1 . gif
Now, on with the story!
Nothing you recognize belongs to me.
Renegades
They Finally Found Me
Dean, Alex and Sam Winchester weren't exactly what anyone would call 'normal boys'. They grew up in motel rooms, listening to Metallica, ACDC and Black Sabbath, and spending just as much time in the backseat of their father's Impala as in a classroom.
They also knew more about guns than most of the adults in the world, with the exception, perhaps, of their father and his fellow hunters.
Hunting was another one of the little things that made the Winchester boys different from the rest. Hunting, for them, had been a secret word, said in the darkness of the night where their father couldn't hear them – that is, until the day Alexander had seen their father blast the ghost of a woman with a rock salt bullet. Alex had been six that night.
His father wasn't happy with being followed home by his job, and thanked his lucky stars Dean or Sam hadn't been there with him – he could take care of a ghost, but he didn't know what he would do if all of his sons knew what he actually did as a living.
Alex kept his secret for exactly three hours, until he couldn't take it anymore, and told Dean, with a huge smile, that their father was a superhero who fought ghosts.
Dean's first question to John was when could they join him in being a superhero.
Alex's following question was whether or not their dad wore a costume made of spandex.
John's request was that they should not tell Sammy about it, he was still too young to know.
Strangely enough, Alex and Dean kept it as a secret for much longer than John had expected. John's word was the law for his boys, but Dean's word was sacred for Alex, and that's why the fastest way to get his middle son to do anything was telling Dean to ask him.
The fastest way to get Sammy to do anything was telling him he could not do it.
Alex and Dean loved sleeping in and going to bed late, which they did more often than not, as they made their own bedtime. Alex would be grumpy in the morning, and Dean would be silent, while Sammy would laugh at them, being a morning person himself.
Sam and Alex loved reading, and Sam most embarrassing guilty pleasure was to ask Alex to read to him at night; he loved the way his brother would do the voices. Dean loved pie, while Sam had no taste for it, and Alex just didn't care. Dean and Sam could spend hours silently sitting side by side. Alex didn't have the ability of being quiet for more than five minutes. Dean and Alex loved the idea of hunting, and would beg their father to take them with him in a hunt or two, request that was always denied because Sammy needed someone to look after him.
Alex always thought that it wasn't fair, because Sam was almost nine. When he had been almost nine, he had known about hunting for three years, and had been taking care of Sammy for much longer. So had Dean.
If he and Dean could take care of Sam, why couldn't Sam take care of himself?
He never voiced these thoughts to Dean though, because his older brother thought they all should be home, protected. Alex knew Dean considered it his job to take care of him and Sam, and so he helped any way he could, and took care of Sammy too.
The year of 1991 was one of those years that went wrong from the very beginning and just didn't seem to get any better as it went on.
John started that year with a grave injury to one of his legs, away from his boys, who spent New Year's Eve at Bobby's, while he was at the hospital. In the following months, he had his first fight with Sammy, who was too nosy for his own good; his first disappointment with Dean, who couldn't keep up with his expectations; and his major problem with Alex, even though his own son never found out how grave the whole situation was.
The month of July found the Winchesters in the state of New York, taking care of a few cases in the area. Summer was hot, and they were between schools, meaning the boys had a lot of time to do what their father told them to. John was strict, and sometimes his boys had some problem realizing he was actually their father, and not their captain. They knew how to shoot; how to clean, assemble and dissemble all of the guns their father owned; how to throw knives; change tires; and Dean was a most competent driver, while Alex was a good enough learner. Sam would need to wait till he was ten to start learning it.
Alex knew how to cook a somewhat healthy and tasty meal, and Sam was a capable enough cleaner. Dean didn't like to do anything house-related, so he mostly ordered his younger brothers around while he could, and obeyed John when he couldn't.
The Winchester family was living in a small, old and overused cabin, just outside a little town the boys didn't bother to learn the name of. They were supposed to have a family summer holiday, but John had been out for most of the time, showing up every four or five days, to restock the food, rest a bit, get his main injuries looked after by Alex and Dean, and stared at by Sam's soulful eyes.
It was in one of these days, when he was home, recovering from a gunshot to one of his arms, that it happened. Not everyone knew how to appreciate the fact you had just had your house saved from a dangerous poltergeist – mostly, people just didn't like to come back home and find a strange man inside it, covering doors and windows with salt.
The night was still cool, dawn was fast approaching, but John was wide awake. He hadn't been able to sleep that night, having arrived home past midnight, when his three boys were already fast asleep. The day before had been Alex's eleventh birthday. When Missouri made sure he would keep him, she told him his birthday, saying it was important that he knew his son had been born as the seventh month died. To him, that had never been important, but being there for his sons was.
It was his son's birthday, and he wasn't home. Just like he hadn't been home for New Year's Eve, or Christmas Day, or Easter. He used to be sure he was there for special dates. When his boys were small, sometimes he would spend one or two days out, leaving them with Bobby, or Pastor Jim, even Caleb, but never more than two days. Now, though, he couldn't seem to be there. He hadn't been there for Sam on his birthday. He wasn't there for Dean's either. Hell, he hadn't been home for his own birthday – and what shocked him the most was that his boys were more upset about not being able to be with him on his special day, than him not being there for theirs.
It was all just so… wrong. Maybe it was time he started taking the boys with him in his hunts.
Maybe not.
Sighing, he leant back on the dingy chair in front of the cabin and stared at the woods. There was just so much he would change if he could.
It was a little past eight in the morning, and he thought about going in, making his boys some breakfast, and let them just have fun that day. No training, no melting silver, no cleaning guns, just being kids for a whole day.
The problem was he couldn't cook to save his life, his guns did need cleaning after his latest hunt, he was almost out of bullets, and there were rumors about missing hearts in corpses just a few hundred miles away.
He may be a father, but he had a responsibility as a hunter. He couldn't let people die just so his sons would have some fun.
Running his hands through his hair while he tried to decide what he'd do that day, he suddenly shot up from his chair, as he heard a loud popping noise in the woods surrounding the cabin. Without a second thought, he pulled out the gun that was resting beside him, and pointed in the general direction of the sound, waiting.
He took careful steps towards the sound, trying to be as silent as possible. What he found definitely wasn't what he expected.
Coming out of the woods, looking around himself as if he were just taking a stroll in the morning light, was a tall man, with a long, white beard. He was wearing a bright orange suit, with a lemon green tie, and had a smile on his face that did nothing to put John at ease. Whoever this man was, he was as far from normal as one could get.
John's first instinct was to shoot first, and ask question later – if the man could talk after he was done with him -, but he stopped. He couldn't shoot someone for wearing weird clothes, and mainly, he couldn't just attack someone with his boys sleeping just a few feet away.
"Mister Winchester, I assume?" the man said, and John tightened his grip on the gun.
"Who are you?" he said back, in a low, threatening voice.
"There's no need for all of this, my boy", the man said, gesturing for the gun in John's hand, completely ignoring John's question, and smiling away, as if everything was alright in the world, "I've come to talk to you about your son."
John fired once, near the man's feet, as a warning, and cocked the gun again, ready for another shot.
"What do you want with Sammy?" he asked, tensing up and getting ready to shoot again – not as a warning anymore. He wouldn't be the first freak trying to get to his youngest, and John was sure he wouldn't be the last, not with what he knew about Sammy, but he sure as hell wasn't going to give up his son without a damn good fight.
"I'm talking about Alexander, Mister Winchester. I have news on his parents. His real parents."
John stared at the man for a few moments, not knowing how to react. On one hand, the man could be telling the truth, and he could finally find out more about Alex's past life. On the other, it could be just another demon and its tricks, and he wouldn't allow that thing near his son.
"What about his parents?" he asked, but before the man could answer, a soft voice sounded from the door behind them.
"Dad, what's going on?"
"Get inside, Dean, and keep your brothers there with you. Don't come out unless I tell you to", he said without taking his eyes off the man, who attempted another smile, but grew serious as he saw John getting ready to shoot again, "I said what about his parents."
"Mister Winchester, I've come from a long way to talk to you. Certainly you've noticed some… peculiarities about Alex so far. I've come to help."
"What the hell are you talking about, old man? And don't try not to give answers, you are one evasive away of getting shot, and I won't miss it this time."
"Strange things happening when he is upset? Things that aren't supposed to happen? Strange reactions?"
"There's nothing strange about my son", John answered, his patience thinning as the man frowned.
"Mister Winchester there's no reason to lie. I'm here to help. Your son is a wizard, just like his parents were before him. His place is in his world."
John had stopped listening when the man said wizard.
So that's what had happened with Alex.
His parents were demon dealers. They had sold their soul.
"My son is no witch." He said, and prepared to shoot, but the man was faster, and with a flash of red light, he had no gun.
"I'm really sorry, Mister Winchester, but I need to take Harry with me."
"STAY AWAY FROM MY SON, YOU WITCH!" he screamed, trying to reach the man, but he found out he could not move. Trying to break whatever spell the man had put on him, he saw with growing desperation that his three boys were now at the door, looking wide eyed at the strange man, who had their father somehow pinned to the ground.
"Dad!" Sam shouted, and ran towards John before Dean could react. The older boy ran after him, leaving Alex unprotected, and John had his blood running cold when he saw the man raising a piece of wood to his son.
"Alex, RUN!" he shouted, but before the boy could react a blue light touched him in the middle of the chest. Apparently it didn't do what it was supposed to do, as the light barely touched his skin and then disappeared, the white-bearded man staring in shock at the child in front of him.
"It's not possible." he whispered, and his bewilderment was enough to release John from his spell. With a sharp command for Dean and Sam to stay where they were, he ran towards the cabin, and stood in front of his child, who hadn't moved, and seemed to have forgotten how to breathe.
"What have you done to my son?", he demanded, ready to attack the man physically if he had to, having being disarmed, but the older man seemed to have frozen on the spot, staring at his child, and whispering 'it's not possible' over and over.
"What is not possible?" he asked again, and finally the man looked at him, as if surprised to see John there.
"Your son has no magic, Mister Winchester."
"I told you, old man, my son is no witch, no matter what his parents did to him."
"Still, I must take Harry with me.", he was reaching his hand towards Alex, when he heard someone shouting.
"His name is Alex!" and then a shot could be heard.
The man surged forward, holding his left arm, staring in shock at the blood coming from the injury. John looked behind him and saw Dean with his right arm still raised, and aiming to the man again.
With another loud pop the man disappeared, and John fell to his knees, holding a still silently crying Alex to him.
Alex was his son, and no-one would take him from his father and brothers.
.x.
It took no more than half an hour for the Winchesters to get all their things together and head south, to Bobby's house. John was in serious need of some good advice and a few free days.
Alex had been silent the whole trip, staring dejectedly out the window, with Sam trying to make him smile, and Dean trying to make him talk. None of the boys had any success though, and John was starting to worry.
When they made their first stop to get some food, he sent Dean and Sam into the diner, and stayed behind with Alex.
"Was what the man said true, dad? Am I really a witch?" the little boy asked, not knowing exactly what a witch was, but being sure it could not be something good, for what their father had said.
"No, you're not", John answered a little more sharply than he intended to. Sighing, he knelt in front of his child, and put his hands onto the small thin shoulders, "You are Alexander Winchester. You are part of this family, and none other. And no matter what that man said, what your other parents did or did not do, you are my son, and my son alone. You are no witch, Alex. You are good. You are going to be a great hunter. Just like your dad."
The boy stared into his eyes for a long moment, before finally smiling, and launching himself into his father's awaiting arms. John held his son tightly, and promised himself he would never let any of those freaks near his child again, unless Alex was hunting them.
There and then John decided he was taking his sons hunting with him.
It simply wasn't safe for them not to anymore.
.x.
"Are you sure about this, Winchester?" Bobby asked for the ninth time, in his gruffly voice.
It was almost midnight, and the two hunters were discussing what had happened to the Winchester family. The boys were sleeping in one of the upstairs bedrooms, all curled up together in the same bed.
"Positive. What else could it be, Bobby? The freak said his parents were witches. He showed up in Sam's nursery at the same time the demon was there. It's the only answer. His parents made a deal, tried to break away from it, and the demon took their child. The man must have thought Alex would do to pay the debt, but he said Alex had no magic. Alex is clean. His parents were damned demon dealers, selling their souls out, not caring about their child."
"And how are you taking it, Winchester?"
Bobby wasn't buying the calm and collected act anymore than he would believe a demon's word for anything. If there was one thing Winchester hated on this earth was demons, and there he was, calmly speaking about one of his sons coming from a family who had sold their souls.
"Alex is not to blame about his parents' actions. He's my son now, no freak in a suit is going to take him away from me. He's legally mine, no matter how illegal it was to make it so, and I'm not letting him go."
John knew what his fellow hunter – almost friend – was thinking, but he wouldn't tell the man his reasons.
He knew if not all about what had really happened to Sam, at least a good part of it. And he didn't like it, he knew it was dangerous, and that made him keep his distance from most of the other hunters, but if he could accept Sam and his… problems, he could accept Alex's background.
His son was no witch, and would never be one. The freak himself had said he had no magic, there was no denying Alex was normal.
Alex was his son, and nothing would change that.
Never.
What? No magic? But… how? And Dumbledore (I admit it, I hate the guy, but he has this amazing quality: you just don't have to say his name, you know who he is just by the clothes he wears), is he going to give up? What do you guys think about all of it?
Let me know and don't forget to
R E V I E W !