It's in the Genes
Author: Cheryl W.
Disclaimer: I do not own any characters or any rights to Dark Angel or Supernatural, nor am I making any profit from this story.
Summary: Crossover with DA and Supernatural -AU– It's the Winchesters who break Alec from jail in Hello/Goodbye and then they start road tripping together. No slash.
Author's Notes: Thanks to the people who were kind enough to show interest in the story! I'm not saying this story is one of my best efforts, it was just a story I couldn't help but slap down onto "paper". Since I'm kinda bored and lonely tonight, …here's another chapter.
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Chapter 2
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"Dean we can still walk away," Sam lowly said into his cell phone, slowing his pace toward the gate of the prison.
"And cheat you of your chance to play Public Defender Samuel Winchester, I wouldn't think of it," Dean sallied back over the phone.
"Dean I know this is personal for you but we really don't know if he should be free. Yeah he might not have committed the murders but he's no innocent twenty year old kid. He's a trained soldier..assassin, if the file's correct. …" Sam tried again the argument he had waged for the past three days.
"He saved lives, Sam, and he refused to kill some of the innocent people Manticore targeted, paid a pretty hard price for his morality if you ask me. And by the time I was twenty, Sam…" he broke off let silence fall a moment. "I did what I was raised to do, Sam. Same as him. And if you wrote down in black and white what I've done…well, let's just say we're not so different, this kid and me."
"You're nothing like him, Dean!" Sam refuted, angered that Dean would put himself in the same category as this "clone", this mindless assassin, this hardcore …soldier.
"Well tell you what. You go in there and break 'em out like we planned and we can see for ourselves over dinner tonight," Dean snapped back and then the connection was cut.
Cursing his brother's stubbornness and his too vulnerable heart, Sam put the phone away, walked to the gate and asked to see his client, "Alec McDowell."
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Having come face to face before with a shapeshifter wearing his brother's face, Sam was surprised to find himself blindside by the sight of the clone. He nearly stumbled into the room where the clone sat lazily in the chair, chained hands clasped calmly in his lap, a challenge in his eyes and a smirk turning up his lips and wearing a black leather jacket. So Dean and yet not, that it nearly took Sam's breath away. He flinched at the voice he remembered hearing when he was sixteen, his twenty year old brother's voice before it had dropped to the low tone it was at twenty six.
"So, what? You got to college on a basketball scholarship, tore up your knee or something and said, what the heck, I'll be a lawyer, right? Just think, a year ago you were probably at the lowest percentage of your graduating class and now you're here, the only one standing between me and a lethal injection. Boy, it settles my fears just knowing you're on the job," Alec sallied because it was better than getting mad at the hand he had been dealt, at the cruel master fate was turning out to be. That apparently the one thing he had learned on his first solo mission was still true: everyone sooner or later got what they deserved.
Sam stood there, mouth hanging open, the words, the acidic tone, the nonchalant attitude; it was so like his brother's own defense mechanisms. Made him realize that if this clone died, some part of Dean that he never knew existed would die too. But hard on that thought was the knowledge of the risks Dean himself was taking right then.
Stalking over to the clone, Sam's hand struck out, wrapped around the Dean lookalike's throat, forced the younger man's head back so his eyes blazed down into the too familiar green eyes. "If you want to live, you do exactly what I tell you to do, X5-494," he growled. At the military designation, he saw the almost invisible reaction in the eyes. "Yeah, I know what you are and who you are."
"Why help me?" Alec croaked out against the pressure on his throat, wondering if "help" was the right word when he knew he might be staring at one of White's goons.
"Because my brother thinks you deserve a clean slate, shouldn't be held accountable for murders you didn't commit," Sam growled, his tone saying he wasn't in agreement on that topic.
"Your brother? Who's your brother?" Alec asked, more confused than he had been when he was picked up in the first place for the murders.
"Your DNA donor," Sam stated, holding up one of Dean's fake IDs and watching Alec's eyes reflect their surprise. Slipping the photo back in his pocket and releasing his grip on Alec's neck, Sam pulled a paperclip from his briefcase and began working on picking the handcuff lock. "He's outside, about to make it look like you did a prison break. While he's distracting them, we'll do it for real." The lock clicked open and he took the cuffs off the man's wrists, met the clone's confused, surprised look.
"Why would he put himself in danger for me?" Alec stammered, trying to play catch up with all the information hitting him at one shot. Not to mention the unthinkable: Someone, some stranger risking his life for him. It was inconceivable to someone that had been bred for survival at all costs, for someone like him who had been taught to take lives.
"He takes it personally when someone goes around wearing his face. So you want out of here or does this feel too much like Manticore, home sweet home for you to part with?" Sam goaded, earning him a glare even as the younger version of his brother came to his feet. Looking at his watch, Sam crossed to the door, knew that the clone was at his heels, coiled and ready for action. He couldn't help looking over his shoulder, studying the presence that felt only a few chords off from his own brother's presence. It earned him the same raised eye brow response from the clone that Dean would have given him.
Turning away, Sam growled, "Don't do that."
"Do what?" Alec returned, voice rising with his aggravation that came when someone looked at him like he was creeping them out.
"Act like him."
"Him who? Your brother?! I really act like him?! I mean I always thought that I'ld get some of my donor's mannerism but of course I never thought I would meet him face to face. He looks older..in the picture. That was a recent picture, right? You don't have a old guy out there impersonating me, do you? You know a geriatric version of me…" he gave a laugh at that vision.
Sam gritted his teeth, Dean had never been this talkative, even drunk. "Shhhh.." he hissed, looking at his watch, hand on the door, bracing himself for action. Then the time clicked in place and he called out, "Guard, I'm done in here," and stood in front of the door, blocking the man's line of sight into the room. As the door's lock clicked open, gunshots rang out from outside and Sam took advantage of the guard's inattention. Yanking the door open, he was about to take down the guard but in a blur of motion, the clone slipped by him, punched the guard, snatched the keys and gun from the man's hands even as the guard fell unconscious to the ground.
Turning around to his "rescuer", Alec smiled smugly as he held up the gun and keys. "These might come in handy."
"We're not shooting anybody," Sam commanded, ripping the gun and the keys from the clone's unresisting grip and starting to run down the hallway.
As another round of gunfire echoed off the walls, Alec said at Sam's back, "Doesn't seem like that's their motto."
The words hiked Sam's already rocket high fears for his brother's safety to nearly debilitating levels. Before he could snap back a reply to the clone's snarky comment, the alarm claxon sounded. With steady hands, he unlocked the next gate, ran down the hall and turned right…. into a storage closet.
"This part of your plan, sharing space in a closet," Alec grumbled, standing outside the small closet, wondering if he had been rescued by someone even crazier than his twin psycho brother had been.
"Yeah, it is," Sam said, eyes on the clone as he kicked in the wall, found it give easily under his assault to reveal an old laundry chute, covered with dust and cobwebs. "Any more complaints?"
"Ah..no," Alec quickly said as he heard footsteps heading their way. He stepped into the closet, shut the door behind him, squeezed by Sam's tall frame and dove through the chute.
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"Me, getting to crawl around in a sewer, imagine my surprise," Alec sarcastically muttered, easily keeping pace with the tall Ordinary that led him, his flashlight hitting the walls and catching on the water, rats and refuse as they made their slow progress.
"Now I know why Dean says being a big brother's a pain," Sam grumbled under his breath, sloshing through the muck, no happier about the route than the clone at his back.
With his hearing, Alec easily heard the other man's words. "Dean, that's my DNA donor's name?"
Somehow taking offense at labeling Dean something as meaningless as DNA donor, Sam snapped, "He's the one who's risking his life to save yours!"
"Hey, don't freak out. I'm just trying to piece things together. I didn't mean to sound ungrateful…for the DNA or the rescue."
Sam heard sincerity in the younger man's voice and it helped ease the tension in his shoulders. "Sorry. I know that this isn't your fault, that you didn't commit the murders."
"Yeah, you said that but how do you know that? I mean you're right but the evidence…it's a pretty good frame job."
Sam stopped, turned to look at Alec, let the flashlight hit his face so he could read it clearly. "You really don't know who murdered those people," more comprehension that question.
"Ah, no. That gets us back to the frame job I mentioned," Alec reinstated, hands moving with his words.
"You …you had a twin …clone.." Sam stammered, uncertain if he was uncovering some family secret.
"Yeah, 493, Ben." And then the light went on. "Whoa, yeah? They said he went crazy but pulling teeth, murdering ten people?!" Alec whistled, "No wonder I got my butt thrown into Psy Ops for six months."
"What's Psy Ops?"
"Some place they send you so they can either break you down or break you apart. Sent me there to see if I had the loco tendencies that my twin did," Alec said, slipping by Sam, not liking the attentiveness, even the sympathy in the stranger's eyes. Spinning around, Alec asked, "You're brother, he's not mentally ..you know…challenged?" hoping to know that one branch of his family tree wasn't wacko.
"He staged a rescue of his serial killer accused genetically engineered clone from a prison using himself as a distraction. That answer your question?" Sam shot back, not liking the younger man's casual acceptance of Dean's risk at this foolish undertaking.
Again finding himself following Sam, Alec said, "Ok, I withdraw the question."
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Crawling from the sewer, Alec didn't sense any danger as the moonlight flittered into his vision. Pushing off the manhole cover, he leapt from the hole, was reaching down to help his rescuer from the sewer when a figure melted out from the darkness, a figure he hadn't detected before. Swiveling in his crouch, ready to go on the defensive or the offensive, he wasn't prepared to see the man's face as he came forward with lithe grace into the moonlight.
Having never even seen a picture of his twin, Ben, Alec wasn't prepared for the shock of seeing his face on someone else. Though the face bore more wear and tear, he was proud that it stood up to the forces of time with grace, finesse, some might say even greater handsomeness. He couldn't draw his look away as the man gave him a calm look, like it was every day he saw a clone of himself. Then his DNA donor, Dean, crouched down beside the man hole, gripped his rescuer's arm as he was climbing from the sewer.
When the two men stood, Alec stayed crouched, watched the interchange with utter fascination.
"You alright?" they simultaneously asked but there was no surprise in that occurrence, like it happened so often that they hardly noticed it anymore.
"Yeah, went off without a hitch," Sam reported and he looked to Alec, knew Dean was looking at the clone as well. He watched as Alec stood up, a look of wonder in his eyes even visible in the moonlight as he came to stand in front of Dean. "Well, Dean this is.."
But Dean cut his words off, "We'll do introductions later, over a latte or something, Sammy. Let's get out of here." And then he was stalking around the corner, toward the Impala waiting in the alley.
Sam was soon in motion, following his brother's lead. It took him a few steps to realize Alec wasn't moving. Turning around, he saw the other man was frozen in place, a vulnerability in his stance as he watched Dean walk away. Sam couldn't help wondering if he himself wore that expression before…whenever Dean left him when all he wanted was for him to stay.
Dean, standing in the open door of the Impala, called to his immobile brother and clone. "Sam! Alec! Move on, dudes."
It was enough to break Sam and Alec free of their stupor, to urge them into a fast walk to join their brother/DNA donor in the always impressive black car. As Alec claimed a seat behind Dean and Sam sank into the passenger seat, they shut their doors are the same time, like Sam and Dean have unconsciously done so many times. If either of the younger men noticed, they didn't react to it as Dean pulled the car onto the dark streets and headed out of Seattle.
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Sitting in the back of a car of two strangers who broke him from jail, one of which was his DNA donor, was not how Alec envisioned the day ending. Waking up in the jail that morning had felt like Manticore for a split second and there had been contentment and panic jumbling his nerves at once. Manticore had meant order, structure, no need to interpret, to feel, to reaction, just to do, to follow orders, to be whatever they told you to be. Even just as surely it meant no tolerance for emotions, no room for choice or failure, for individuality, no hope for freedom.
But now he didn't know what kind of situation he had been thrown into. As much as he truly was grateful for the escape, he was feeling unequipped to be faced with a man wearing his face, with two people risking their very lives…fragile, Ordinary, lives for him. To be sitting in a car, letting them take him wherever they chose, leaving behind Seattle…Max, Joshua. He even felt a pang at leaving behind Original Cindy, Sketch and Normal. 'Oh crap. Logan?' he suddenly thought, surprised at adding Logan's name to the list he would maybe miss, then finding concern hitting him hard. Logan had been stricken with the virus…Max had called him to ask him to come to the hospital ,her voice worried…almost breaking.
Sliding forward in the car, he leaned over the front seat between the two brothers, "Hey I need to make a phone call. Can I borrow someone's phone?"
"We just risked our lives getting you out of prison and you're making requests now?" Sam snapped, head slipping back so his eyes pinned Alec's.
"Sam," Dean reprimanded, eyes shifting across Alec to Sam. He watched Sam hand over his phone with ill grace.
"Don't call anyone who will turn you in," Sam grumbled.
"Gee, thanks. I was going to call my parole officer," Alec smart mouthed back, sliding back on the seat and dialing Original Cindy's phone number. Calling Cindy because, calling Max right then and telling her, "Sorry I got my butt arrested for Ben's murder spree and I won't be coming to the hospital at your beck and call" wasn't the last conversation he wanted to have with Max, wasn't the way he wanted to say goodbye. 'Yeah, my leaving town will be enough of a goodbye gift for her.'
"Hello," Original Cindy asked with trepidation at the unknown number flashing on her cell.
"Hey, it's me Alec. I'm just calling to see about Logan. Is he going to be OK?"
"Yeah, he's gonna pull through. But I'm not so sure about you. Max is beyond pissed you didn't show at the hospital last night," OC warned, harboring a soft spot for Alec, who seemed so broken and yet seemed to have a heart of gold underneath the careless jerk mask he wore.
"Yeah, 'bout that. I had my own drama. I've got to split town OC. Tell …well tell everyone goodbye for me," he asked, wondering if anyone would even give care that he was going and not coming back.
"Split town?! What trouble did you get into boy?" OC demanded, voice rising with her concern.
"Ah, you know me, always screwing up," Alec down played, felt touched at the concern in OC's voice.
"I know you always pretending things are your fault. Don't make it true. Max…Joshua…you can't just leave them," OC insisted, unable to fathom the fallout when she told Max Alec was gone because, like it or not, that girl was seriously attached to her boy. And Joshua…for him it would be like losing his little brother all over again.
"They'll hardly know I'm not around. Well take care of yourself OC," Alec bade, disconnecting the call. Sliding forward, he handed the phone back to Sam, but caught that compassionate look in the taller man's gaze again. He shied away from it, turned his inspection to the older man, his donor…in a weird scheme of things, his older brother.
"So how long have you known about me?" he asked, mind already trying to decide if he would be angry or disappointed that the man had never sought him out sooner.
"'Bout three days. Drive it took us to get here," Dean answered, his eyes on the rearview mirror catching Alec's in the moonlight.
It wasn't the answer Alec expected. It implied urgency and concern and a connection that he didn't know how to comprehend let alone how to feel about. "How did Manticore get your DNA?" And Alec felt Dean's brother, his real brother, tense, felt his eyes as they fixated on Dean's profile, like he too was waiting for the answer.
"Must have been blood," Dean answered, voice low, memories making it so.
"Blood? But how? You said Lydecker was one of Dad's contacts, worked for Manticore," Sam said, brow creasing trying to put the pieces together just like Alec.
"Colonel Lydecker was the X series commander at Manticore, in charge of our military training, our testing…mentally, physically, psychological, he did it all," there was both respect and hatred in Alec's tone, had Dean turning to meet his eyes and Alec's breath nearly caught. He could read that expression, knew it to be understanding, to be regret, to be an apology. Seemed like the man, with that look, was apologizing for the life he had lived, for the horrors he had endured, for somehow not "rescuing" him sooner…from a fate maybe not as cruel as death but with it's own tortures.
Putting together Alec's information, Sam formulated, "So Lydecker used your blood to obtain your DNA, put it to use in his experiments for the perfect super soldier." A thought churned suddenly in Sam's gut, made him ill even as he stammered out, eyes on Dean, "Dad didn't…he wouldn't have…"
Shooting Sam a reprimanding look Dean denied, "He didn't, Sam. Dad had nothing to do with Lydecker's research."
"Then how come I'm looking at a clone of you, Dean?! Maybe in Dad's twisted way…"
"I said he didn't, alright, Sammy!" Dean snapped, eyes flaring at they surged to Sam's. "I was hurt…Dad didn't have a choice but to take me to Lydecker's place. But I never went to any government building."
Sam paled because something was clicking in his head. "The possessed cougar, you got mauled," and he fought down a shiver at the memories of his Dad carrying the too still Dean in his arms, of the blood that soaked Dean's eight year old body.
Dean seemed shocked that Sam remembered it, had his look swiveling from the road to Sam and back again. "Yeah, think so. Things are kinda hazy but I remember waking up at the guy's place, Dad holding a gun on him as he gave me an injection, Dad saying something about him not using any of his twisted genetic mutations on me."
"Blood," Sam breathed, the memories sharp now. "That's what you left behind, all those rags soaked with your blood."
"He was apparently a sick enough SOB to not have any standards," Dean flatly returned, remembered the pain, the coldness, vividly remembered when he felt, for the first time, the sharp fear that he was dying.
Alec's look ping ponged between the two brothers, caught off guard by the notion of a "possessed" cougar and someone actually getting the upper hand on Colonel Lydecker enough to hold a gun on him. His experiences at Manticore left him easily able to envision an eight year old child in pain, covered in blood, to treat it as run of the mill. But looking at Sam, Alec knew that he didn't, especially when it had come to his big brother. It was a weird perspective, viewing Sam's concern for a time that was past, that couldn't be changed, that Dean had apparently survived. Had survived with only a hitch of having unknowingly provided the genetic code for not just one, but two clones.
Turning his head to fully look at Dean, Alec was going to ask about the "possessed" cougar when he noticed it, something he should have noticed from the start. He froze, counted Dean's heartbeat as it pulsed in his neck, soon was met with a raised eyebrow of inquisition from the older man.
"Ah, since you've seen this face in the mirror for the past twenty years, you wanna tell me what you find so fascinating?" Dean challenged, a little unnerved by the assessing look on the face his and yet not his.
"Where did you get hit?" Alec calmly demanded, his eyes shifting from Dean's pulse point to his unreadable eyes. But he could still guess the man's unspoken question. "Extra heightened senses," he explained with a twist of his lips, though it wasn't meant as a boast but simply a fact. "I smell blood and unless you dumped a body out of this car five minutes before you picked us up, the blood's yours."
Sam looked wide-eyed from Dean to Alec and back to Dean, worry starting to roll off him as he sat forward and turned to fully face his brother. "Dean…."
Sending a fairly tame scowl at Alec for blowing his deception, Dean drawled, eyes coming to rest on Sam. "Don't get your blood pressure up. It's just a graze, Sam."
In the dark interior, Alec sent his eyes down Dean's torso and legs, sought out the wound the older man was trying to downplay to his little brother. "Right side, just below his ribs," he supplied as he noted the blood coated fabric just peeking out from the open leather coat, knew enough about gunshot wounds to recognize one and know that it wasn't a graze, had cost the man too much blood already for a wound of that benign nature.
Not doubting Alec's announcement, Sam immediately slid closer to Dean even as he reached out, began to skim his hands over his brother's side. As his fingers touched the too familiar feel of his brother's warm, pooling, blood, they slipped down, caught on the tear in Dean's shirt…connected clumsily with the cruel rip in his brother's flesh.
Swerving the car as agony tore through him as Sam touched the bullet wound, Dean wrestled to keep the car on the road. "Crap Sam! Maybe you haven't notice but I'm driving the get away vehicle here!"
Dean's reaction told Sam more than he wanted to know about the pain his brother was in. "Pull over Dean," he commanded, pulling his hand away from Dean.
"Again! I'm driving here Sam, so we both don't end up in the same situation as mini me was just an hour ago," Dean hissed amid the pain, hands tightening around the steering wheel, eyes flickering past Alec to do a hit and run with Sam's worried yet determined look.
"How bad is it? And don't lie Dean!" Sam threatened, his only care his brother, oblivious to the third party taking in their every word and expression.
"Went right through, alright. Clean," Dean reassured.
"Yeah, clean. Good. That's just so much better than a graze," Sam sarcastically said, slumping back in his seat but his look not moving from Dean.
"Chill, Sammy. Everything's going as planned," Dean countered, gave Sam a smug smile.
"So you getting shot, I must have missed that in the outline. Was it in the small print?" Sam sardonically challenged.
"Always a stickler for details," Dean growled back.
Alec was stunned at the back and forth banter between the two men, the honest to goodness deep concern that lay openly there, the love that was tangible between the two men…between the two brothers. He had never seen the like before between brothers…had seen how Rachel and her father interacted but this was different, was more complicated, felt somehow deeper than the open affection he had witnessed between the Berrisfords. And whatever pang of jealousy, of loss that he had felt watching Rachel and her father was magnified ten fold watching the two men who had risked their lives for him, who he shared similar DNA with but no true connection.
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Sam had not let him help Dean into the motel room and Dean had stubbornly not allowed Sam that same thing. Instead Alec stood by the car, watched Dean push through the pain and walk to the motel room with barely a flicker of pain in his expression or visible in his gait. Watched just as intently the way Sam jumped out of the passenger side, flew to his brother's side, put his hand on Dean's shoulder before the older man growled a warning and he withdrew it. But his big brother's attitude didn't stop Sam from pacing Dean's every slow, determined step as he walked into the motel room, or keep him from letting his hand hover at his wounded brother's back, ready to offer support if it should be needed. At the door, Sam slipped inside first, held the door open for his big brother. The gesture earned him a glare as Dean stepped by him and entered the motel room.
As the motel door slid shut on its hydraulic hinges, Alec felt a lance of abandonment shoot through him, like he had that time his unit had been ordered to leave him behind during a mission when he was wounded, when he had had to make his way home…to Manticore all on his own. He was startled to realize he wanted to be accepted by these particular Ordinaries, wanted to be a part of whatever they had between them, wanted to belong more strongly than he had ever let himself want to before. "Guess I'm on my own," he said aloud with a smirk, like it didn't matter that there was bitter loneliness coiling in his gut.
But before he could move from the car, the motel room door swung open and Sam stood in the doorway, was throwing something his way. Easily snagging the car keys in the air, he cocked an eyebrow at Sam.
"Grab the first aid kit from the trunk and get in here," Sam ordered urgently, no trace of anger or blame or worry in his dark eyes.
Blurring to the trunk, snagging the first aid kit, closing the trunk and coming to Sam's side in only seconds, Alec slowed down to saunter across the room's threshold. But he nearly came up short at the sight of Dean lying on the bed, his shirt off, the cruel hole in the flesh of his side drowning in blood. 'This is because of me! He's hurt because of me!' And his wide, scared, guilty eyes met Dean's pained green ones.
Sam read Alec's expression so simply it suddenly didn't seem like Alec bore any resemblance to Dean. Dean had always worn his emotions close to the vest. It had taken Sam nearly twenty three years to find ways to slip past his barriers, to read the look in his eyes, to interpret the signs in his body language. But Alec…he didn't wear his mask as well, didn't know how to maintain it when everything he knew was being questioned, changed, threatened. Compassion again flared in Sam for the younger man. Glancing at Dean, he read the same look in his brother's eyes. Gently taking the kit from Alec's seemingly nerveless grip, Sam crossed to the bed he had manhandled Dean to lay down on.
Taking a seat at Dean's hip, Sam's eyes held Dean's for a moment before he looked at the wound. He grimaced when he truly wanted to curse and scream and rail against the pain and suffering his brother always had to bear. Pulling a sterile pad from the kit, with an apologetic look to Dean, he pressed it against the wound, gritted his teeth at Dean's groan at the agony he was inflicting.
Forcing himself to step forward, to accept responsibility for the pain he had brought onto Dean, Alec quietly announced, "I'm a trained field medic. I could…"
"I got it," Sam cut him off, cringing internally at the notion of someone else taking care of Dean, of putting his brother's life in the hands of this stranger.
Though his words came out pained and breathless, Dean offered a small smirk up to Alec, "Don't take it personally. Sammy has mama bear tendencies."
"That's the pot calling the kettle black Dean," Sam groused but there was no malice in his tone, was filled instead with affection. Turning to look at Alec, he said, "Can you boil some water so I can sterilize the instruments?"
"Yeah," Alec instantly replied and was quickly crossing over to the kitchen, finding a pot from one of the cupboards, glad to be able to help even in that small way.
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An hour later, Alec, mindless of the blood staining his grey sweater, sat at the kitchen table, his focus shifting from the lap top to the wounded man lying on the far bed. He could hear the sound of Sam's shower water coming from the bathroom, was honestly surprised that Sam had left him alone with his brother even at Dean's prompting. It felt like both Dean and Sam were giving him a trust he didn't deserve.
Watching Sam treat his brother's wound, it discredited everything Alec thought he knew about humans, about ordinaries, about their tolerance for pain…and capacity for kindness. Sam's every action had been gentle, had been undertaken with care, his eyes flickering to his brother's had numerous times begged for forgiveness for the inflicted pain, and Dean had given his absolution time and time again, had offered up his own consolations to Sam. "I'm alright Sammy." "Your steady hands would have been wasted talent if you truly turned lawyer, you know that." "I'm Ok," Dean had reassured after a grunt of pain escaped him and Sam's voice cracked with his apology. And Sam had given his own litany of promises to Dean. "I'm almost done, Dean." "The pain killer should kick in soon." "I promise I'm making the stitches small so you can still do your GQ shirtless spread."
For Alec it had felt like he was watching the boob tube, was watching some family show that was out of touch with reality, with the reality he had known. Showed him the impossible: that compassion, caring, love didn't have to mean being weak, vulnerable, meant instead that you had a strength beyond your own, had someone backing you up, willing to even fight your battles for you. That being tough wasn't about enduring pain, cutting yourself off from what could hurt you. Instead it was about sheltering others from pain even in the face of your own agony, of putting others before yourself when you were so ready to break apart. It was about being strong not for yourself but for others, for the ones you loved.
Now as he watched Dean shift, saw a pained expression mar the wounded man's features, Alec tensed, worried that Dean was getting worse instead of better. He froze as Dean's eyes slowly opened, blinked and then focused on him across the room.
"Hey, you OK? You need something?" Alec asked, his voice coming out gentle, quiet as it carried across the room to Dean.
"Drink," Dean croaked, tried to swallow down his cough but failed. Groaning as the cough ripped from him, he pressed his hand against his wound, felt the air evaporate from his lungs. He was startled when gentle, strong hands were suddenly bracing his neck and sliding under his back. Then he was carefully shifted, like he was little more than a child, onto his unwounded side so he could draw in a decent breath. He felt the bed sink as Alec sat at his back, felt the younger man slid his hand up to rest between his shoulder blades. When the younger man's hand gave a little pinpoint of pressure on his back, it helped to dispel the linger hold of the cough. Though his eyes were closed, Dean felt the younger man's attention upon his face, felt it like he would feel Sam's inspecting, worried gaze.
"I'm alright," Dean reassured, his voice so husky it made a mockery of his words.
Alec didn't dispute the man's declaration, simply moved his hand higher, rubbed at another pressure point. "I know this is coming a little late but thanks for saving my butt. And I really am sorry you got…hurt," his voice catching on the word. It seemed so inadequate to describe the pain the other man had endured just because he chose to help him.
"All in a day's work," Dean breathed out, opening his eyes and shooting Alec a cocky but pale smirk over his shoulder.
"Yeah, huh? So rescuing your transgenic clone from jail is just run of the mill for you?" Alec lightly challenged.
Dean smirked and let his eyes fall shut again, "It's pretty tame on the scale of things we do, trust me."
Alec shook his head at the man's nonchalant attitude to all the craziness. Standing up he crossed back over to the kitchen, retrieved the drink he was pouring when Dean's cough had alarmed him enough to abandon it to get to the wounded man's side. Crossing back over to the bed, he came around to the side Dean now faced, sat down there as Dean's eyes again held his. "Take small swallows," he cautioned as he slid his hand under Dean's head and lifted it gently as he tipped the glass against the man's lips.
All too familiar with the need to not guzzle down water after motel room surgery, Dean sipped a little water and then let Alec reposition his head back on the pillow, eyes not leaving Alec's.
"You two do seem used to performing field medical treatments. Do I even want to know what you two meant by a "possessed" cougar?"
"Let's just say, you had your training and Sam and I had ours," Dean vaguely replied, tried to shift and only ended up grunting in annoyance at the pain.
Wrapping one hand around Dean's forearm and placing the other against Dean's chest, Alec soothed, "Easy. I can help you move onto your back." But then hesitancy flew into Alec's eyes as he met Dean's. "I mean, if you want me to."
Dean watched as Alec's head suddenly swiveled around as he finally realized that Sam had opened the bathroom door, was standing there, a silent observer to the younger man's gentle treatment of him. If there was one way the younger version of himself could win Sammy over, Dean knew this was it: Taking care of him, having his back, acting like Sam himself would in that same position.
"He needed a drink," Alec quickly explained, eyes meeting Sam's. But he was reluctant to stand up, to jar Dean, to remove his support to the wounded man.
Sam nodded his head, said "Kay" and casually walked to the other bed, dug socks out of his bag as his eyes skittered back to Dean and Alec. When he had first opened the bathroom door and saw Alec sitting beside Dean, he almost leapt forward to separate them, to pull Alec away from his too vulnerable brother's side. But Alec's concerned words to Dean, his gentle touch on Dean's abused body stopped him in his tracks. Made him see that Alec would not be using whatever speed and strength he had against Dean, was in fact using his genetic enhancements and medical training to help Dean.
Facing Dean again, Alec bent his head down to be more eye level with Dean. "You OK, you need anything else?"
"No, I'm good," Dean mumbled, eyes sliding closed even as he spoke.
Unable to still his panic, Alec had his fingers flying to Dean's pulse in his neck, was only able to take in a breath when he felt the steady heartbeat under his touch. He looked up from Dean to Sam, saw the tension in Dean's brother's stance. "Heart rate's strong and steady."
Drawing in a relieved breath, Sam nodded. "Shower's yours."
Nodding, Alec, with one final look at Dean, stood up, started heading toward the bathroom, stopped as Sam called.
"Alec," Sam said quietly, earning the younger man's attention as he tossed some of Dean's clothing at him. Alec easily caught the articles of clothing but Sam wasn't expecting the surprised look in the green eyes.
It was the first time Sam had called him by name and that was just another layer of trust. Then the offering of what was apparently Dean's clothing?! It was so unexpected that he stumbled to a stop. Were the two of them actually willing to let him parade around looking even more like Dean?! Alec's eyes unconsciously shifted to Dean, wondered what the other man would say about his brother's gesture.
Sam caught Alec looking to Dean as if the clone wished for some sign of approval from Dean. "Trust me, his ego can handle the competition," he joked, a smile turning up his lips.
Alec, however, didn't smile, instead he looked like a young kid, like a twenty year old kid that had been sheltered and abused and taught that kindness was to be mistrusted.
"Seriously, I'm not going to let you keep wearing that sweater stained with Dean's blood. You can take some of my clothing if you want but you've honestly got to change," Sam gently taunted, put a smile on his face. And he prayed Alec didn't know how much he meant the words, how much he didn't want to be reminded of Dean's vulnerability, of Dean hurting, of the cruel knowledge that Dean was fragile, could be stolen away from him…would be in a few months if he didn't break the deal. The thought had his eyes going to Dean's pale but peaceful face, of the blessed sight of his brother, alive and with him.
Seeing Sam's focus shift to Dean, Alec felt something in his chest tighten at the expression on Sam's face. He almost asked Sam if he was OK before he caught himself, realized that he didn't belong here, between them. Clutching possessively onto the clothing in his hands, onto the small connection to the brothers that he had been afforded, Alec quietly said, "Nah, these are fine," and he slipped into the bathroom.
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Tbc?
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Thanks for anyone out there reading and I really would like to know if you're enjoying the story.
Have a wonderful evening!
Cheryl W.