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 note: Spoilers for No Rest for the Wicked. Sorry I didn't post the day I said I would, I just wasn't quite happy with the chapter.

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Chapter 17

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Dean's scream of pain, it was the first thing that registered with Alec as he burst through the door. The second was Sam's raw pleadings: "No! Stop! Stop it!" After that, everything faded to the background except saving Dean, saving his family. He didn't scope out his surroundings, didn't predict his enemy's location or defensive tactics, didn't follow even one of Manticore's protocols. Instead, he just let his heart lead him, trusted his love to provide him with the strength, the ability he needed to see this through, to save his brothers, to save himself.

Running into the room, he took in the scene before him in an instant: a blond woman standing just inside the door, Sam pinned to the wall and Dean…Dean on the floor, screaming in pain, writhing against an invisible attack, blood soaking his shirt. And the knife, Ruby's knife, the knife that could kill Lilith, the knife Dean had asked Alec to use on him if things went badly was lying, seemingly discarded, on the floor.

Alec didn't go for the blond woman he knew instinctively was Lilith, never truly contemplated touching the knife, dove forward instead to protect what he cared about most: his brother. Though the Hell Hound wasn't visible, it was solid enough when he slammed into it. Found he could wrap his hands around the beast's muscled, stocky body as they both tumbled onto the hard wood floor. And he hung onto the invisible beast for dear life, for Dean's life, didn't loosen his grip when the hound's claws tore into his skin as easily as they had Dean's. His own pain was inconsequential compared to Dean's pain, to his brother's choked cry of pain, gasp for breath.

Sam didn't waste the distraction Alec had provided. Momentarily released from Lilith's hold, he rolled forward, grabbed the knife mid motion, came off the floor and buried the weapon's blade into Lilith's neck. "No one's going to Hell today…not Dean!" he lowly hissed before he ruthlessly turned the knife in her flesh. "Not even you." With satisfaction, he watched agony spread over what was once Ruby's face before red light arched from the body, signifying Lilith's death throes. Viciously removing the knife, Sam numbly saw Lilith drop to the ground like a long dead corpse, leaving quiet in her wake.

With the hell hound recalled, Alec was suddenly holding onto nothing but air. Instantly he rolled to face Dean, heard Sam's choked cry of "Dean!" as Sam crashed to his knees beside his brother.

Frantically Sam pressed his hands against Dean's chest, desperately tried to stop the flow of thick red blood pouring from his brother's ravaged flesh. His eyes locked with Dean's, raged against the way his brother's eyes were dulled with pain, were leaking life as surely as his body was leaking blood. "Dean," he begged, needed his brother to hear him, to not go.

Through his agony, Dean had registered a red light from the corner of his eye, recognized it for what it was: Lilith's departing gesture. And when the hell hound's snarling no longer rent through the air, his ears rang with the quiet. But he hadn't been able to claim any victory, not until he knew Sam was Ok. Then, as if in answer to his prayers, Sam's face had appeared in his dimming line of vision and he felt his brother's hands come to rest on his chest. But Sam's touch wasn't gentle, wasn't there to sooth him, was there to save him, by merciless force, it seemed. As Sam's ministrations sent a shock wave of heightened agony through him, he cried out but the pressure in his lungs muffled his scream, made it emerge as a pathetic whimper.

Rationally knowing that he had to hurt Dean to save him didn't ease the guilt in Sam, didn't make his heart hurt any less at Dean's weak but earthshattering cry of pain. Because Dean, he did stoic better than anyone, endured pain, agony with grimaces and curses but never cries, never choked back screams. And the look in his brother's eyes, the way the light was fading in them, it scared him worst than anything Hell could threaten. "Just hang on, Dean. Lilith's dead, the Hell Hound is gone, your deal's broken."

Dean wanted to smile, to tell Sammy 'good job', to look at Alec, who he knew was nearby though out of his limited line of sight. Needed to tell both of his brothers how proud he was of them but his body was proving weaker than his will. Blindly he raised his hand, inched it across his blood covered chest to Sam's arms, to wrap around his brother's wrist as Sam tried to keep him alive, thought he still needed to save him. Sam needed to know that he had already saved him…even if he died.

Sam's breath caught as Dean weakly but intently gripped his wrist, as he saw the love in Dean's eyes…and the goodbye. "No," he sobbed, pressing harder on his brother's bleeding chest, needing to stop this, to undo this. "You're not dying on me, Dean! You're not. You're not leaving me. We didn't beat Lilith so you could quit!" the last word coming out as a broken hearted plea.

Coming to kneel by Dean's head, Alec hurriedly removed his jacket, winced slightly at the wounds to his own chest and arms but didn't let it slow him down. Shoving the jacket at Sam, he ordered, "Use this to stop the blood flow," releasing the jacket even before Sam moved, made a grab for it. Surging to his feet, he ran from the room, located the first floor bathroom and grabbed a handful of towels. Returning to the room at a run, it was a shock to see the scene in the new prospective. To see Dean on the ground, so still, blood soaking the left leg of his jeans. Dean's shoulder, chest.. ravaged, blood soaking into the tattered material of Dean's jacket, two shirts which had offered no protection against the savagery of the attack, the strength and evil of the canine courier from hell.

And then there was Sam.

Dean's true brother knelt at Dean's side, tears sliding down his face as freely as the blood ran from Dean's wounds. With his hands pressing on his brother's chest, Sam was determined to stop the blood flow, even as his shoulders bent forward, as his head was bowed over his brother in a gesture of fear, of misery, and of utter devotion. There was nothing else in Sam's world but Dean. And if Dean left him….

Railing against losing his brother, either of them, Alec crossed to Dean's right side and dropped to his knees beside Sam. Knowing that Sam would not remove his pressure point on Dean's chest, would not forfeit his connection with Dean, could not, not even for a moment, Alec pressed some towels between Sam's hands. Almost instantly Sam's hands slid to the new makeshift bandages even though his eyes didn't leave Dean's.

In contrast, Alec purposefully didn't look at Dean's face, couldn't let himself think that this was his brother's life he was trying to save. Had to remain detached, had to perform his tasks efficiently, could not fail, not in this, not like he had failed in so many other things, had failed so many other people.

So Alec concentrated on rendering the towels into strips easily with his strong grip. Task complete, he gently moved his hands under Dean's right shoulder, bit his lip as his hand slid in the blood, mercilessly snagged in the deep cuts in the man's flesh, in his brother's flesh. Wrestling to keep his emotions locked down, he focused on his medic training. Positioning a strand of towel under the wound, he intended to tie if off in the front of Dean's shoulder only to realize the knot, it would intersect with more of Dean's wounds. Cursing himself, he followed through, tied a knot in the towel, winced when Dean groaned in agony but didn't look at Dean's face, doubted he would have the strength to continue if he knew the level of pain he was causing his sibling.

With hands not as steady as they should be, Alec pressed another towel to the front of Dean's shoulder, felt sick when the towel seemed to instantly turn from white to red as his brother's blood soaked through the porous fabric. With an outward ruthlessness, he slid his hands under his brother's shoulder again, tried to shut out Dean's moan as he secured the second makeshift bandage with a tight knot.

Alec choked out an "I'm sorry, Dean," before he finally gathered the courage to look at his brother. Suddenly, his world shifted out of focus. Dean's bone white profile was in sharp contrast to the blood splattered on his face. The wave of vulnerability, weakness, frailty emanating from Dean, it was in abject contradiction to the strength, the bravery, the life Alec had always associated with his big brother. Seeing Dean squeezing his eyes shut against the unbearable pain, he knew that was his fault, that he was increasing Dean's pain when all he wanted to do was to ease it, to stop it. He would give anything to have the power to make Dean's pain go away.

Gritting his teeth, Alec pushed himself to his feet, moved to Dean's leg. Felt angry and sick at the damage he could see through the torn jeans, debated setting up a tourniquet but didn't bother, knew the blood flow…it was slowing, didn't want to think why that was, what it meant. Sliding his hands under Dean's leg, he coiled the strip of towel around the wound, tied it off with a strong pull. He closed his eyes at Dean's weak grunt of pain but only let himself wallow in despair for a moment, then he was at Dean's left side, was reaching for his brother, was determined to keep Dean with him, by pure force if necessary.

Pressing the shaking fingers of his right hand against Dean's neck even as his left hand rested on Dean's shoulder, Alec found that he couldn't tear his eyes away from Dean's face now that he had allowed himself that bittersweet privilege. Because seeing Dean's face, it was a pleasure as much as it was a torment. He felt his own chest shred when Dean used some of his precious, fleeting energy to roll his head toward him, when he saw the look in his brother's eyes, the look that Sam had seen and had nearly come undone under its despair. "It's not that bad," Alec lied, fabricated a smile though he knew it was more a prelude to a sob, felt his lips tremble on the precipice.

A fledging ghost of a smile turned up Dean's lips. Crap, that was exactly what he had said to Sam in that ghost town …right before Sam died in his arms. Like he had with Sam only minutes before, he reached out for Alec. Instantly, Alec caught his hand in his and squeezed it tight. Closing his eyes, he tried to swallow, to gather enough air, enough strength to talk, to tell his brothers what they needed to hear and to tell them goodbye. A blood slicked hand came to tenderly rest on the right side of his face.

"Hey, don't go anywhere, Dean. Don't go anywhere without me, Dean," Sam's voice as broken as Dean had ever heard it, as close to sobbing as Dean had ever witnessed, even after Jessica's death..their father's. He couldn't leave Sam broken, he couldn't. Rolling his head forward again, he opened his eyes, saw that Sam was crying, hard, felt his brother's tears hit him like raindrops…bittersweet raindrops. Tightening his grip on Sam's wrist, on Alec's hand, he spoke through his agony, "Proud of you…both. Saved me," because he was, they had. Had saved him from a fate worst than death, from Hell.

As the last of his defenses faltered, Sam bowed his head closer to Dean's and filled the air with a heart rending sob. Dean was bloody, broken, dying and he was proud of him, was thanking him and Alec for saving him. "Don't say that. Just…just don't talk, Dean. Save your strength. We'll get you to a hospital…" he pleaded, stammered, promised even as he wondered if it wasn't already too late for medical miracles, distraught at the possibility that there was no way to replenish the blood that his brother had lost, the blood that he himself was covered in: hands, jeans, shirt…soul.

"It's Ok, Sam..my," Dean forced from his constricted throat, refusing to go until he was certain Sam wouldn't follow him, that Sam could live without him. "Deal's ..broken. You did…good."

Alec gripped Dean's hand harder in his own hand even as he looked away, couldn't bear to watch Dean give up, to see the devastation on Sam's face, to witness his brother's death after everything they had been through, how hard he had fought to be there. But he couldn't stop the words from tumbling from his mouth, "Good?!" he bitterly scoffed, shaking his head, not caring that the gesture sent his tears flying, not looking to Dean, to Sam. "You call this good?!" his voice rising as his emotions teetered on the brink of destruction. "Screw you, Dean!" he growled, leaning forward, getting into Dean's line of sight. "You don't get to just pat us on the head and then go, leave us behind trying to pick up the pieces. Cause Sam and I, we can't put things together, can't make things right without you, Dean!"

Sam readily joined Alec's campaign, latched onto the anger, the down right refusal to accept this outcome. "You told me to keep on fighting. Well take your own advice, Dean! Dad taught you to fight, told you to take care of your family. You have to follow Dad's orders. You have to take care of your little brother, both of them. It's your job. I'm your responsibility, Dean. Just like Alec is," Sam threw out, was using Dean's own loyalty against him, Dean's own code of honor, of family, Dean's love for him. It was a low handed tactic…and he didn't care. Not if it got him what he wanted. Knew, ironically, that it was that code, that loyalty, that love, that had driven Dean into making the crossroad's deal exactly a year ago, that what had cursed Dean's soul might be the only thing to save Dean's life.

"You're not…" Dean wheezed, fighting for breathing, for some defense, for some way to right his wrongs.

"Going to let you die in peace?" Sam supplied firmly, with a bittersweet smile of determination, remembered saying that to Dean after his heart attack, when Dean seemed so willing to give up, to lie down and die, to leave him. "No, we're a package deal, Sid and Nancy, whatever. So suck it up. You've had worse," he goaded, needed to see a spark of life in Dean's eyes, of fight.

"Liar," Dean protested weakly amid a groan of pain. He knew what Sam was trying to do, what he had tried to do with Sam in that ghost town. Bind them together, to not let Sam go, not let Sam believe he was dying, not give Sam the option to leave him.

"Besides, it would totally ruin our family reputation if it got out that you were taken down by a dog," Alec smart alecked, his smirk feeble as he pretended that he cared about anything but keeping his brother alive.

"Hell..hound," Dean clarified breathlessly as if it mattered. What mattered more was the knowledge that Alec had just claimed them family, his family.

"Whatever," Alec returned with a shrug. "Either way, you're not dying on us so stop the chick flick goodbye speech," he stated as if the idea of Dean dying was settled. It wasn't happening and he didn't care what Dean thought about it.

"Like I said before, I'm not letting you go, Dean. I can't let you go anymore than you could let me go," Sam stated, was reassured by the tenacious, small glimmer of life in Dean's eyes that hadn't vanished, was faded but wasn't gone. He didn't even mind that Dean's expression said 'you're such a girl Sam'. Instead he reveled in the taunt, welcomed anything Dean threw at him as long as he was around to do it. Once again he had faith that Dean was too much of a big brother to let him down, to let either of his little brothers down.

"I say we take this reunion somewhere else. Apparently white picket fence suburbia doesn't suit any of us," Alec counseled mockingly, trying to conceal the urgency he felt to get somewhere they could treat Dean. To somewhere they could truly stop his blood loss, could do more than use words to keep him alive. It was harder to let Dean's hand go than it had been to walk out of Rachel's room. Had been easier to let Rachel in the coma state that his actions had resigned her to than to break the connection to his brother, to a brother who wasn't going anywhere. That he refused to let go anywhere.

Freed of Dean's grip, robbed of that connection, Alec intended to slip his arms under Dean, to pull his wounded brother into his arms. But Sam's hand fisted in his shirt, caused him to meet the older man's eyes as they clashed with his. He could easily see the plea in Sam's eyes: 'Don't take him away from me. It's my duty to protect him. He's my brother, my responsibility. I need to be allowed to do this.'

Stilling, Alec knew his strength far outweighed Sam's, that he wouldn't jostle Dean as much as Sam would, though it would be through no fault of Sam's. But he didn't voice those advantages, didn't offer up any protests. Instead, he leaned away, wrapped his hand around Dean's wrist and gently settled his brother's arm onto his blood drenched chest and then withdrew his touch. Knew in his heart that, with Dean barely clinging to life, it wasn't about strength, it was about connections, about love. And Dean's bond with Sam, it was stronger than Alec's, had weathered more than Alec could bear to contemplate. What Dean needed, what would keep Dean anchored to this world was Sam, knowing that Sam was there. Close. Wasn't going anywhere..not without him.

As Alec gently pulled his touch from Dean, placed Dean's hand on his chest, Sam felt a new set of emotions choke him: relief, gratitude, and love for Alec. Nodding, he looked down at Dean, at his brother's pain lined features, at his expressive eyes. "I'ld tell you this won't hurt but…" he swallowed down the swell in his throat, smiled a watery, bitter smile.

Voice rough with pain, Dean ordered, "Do it, Sam," wanting to take the burden, the guilt from Sam's eyes. But his words were barely strong enough to reach Sam, told Sam in no uncertain terms just how weak his big brother was, what a battle it was to not surrender, to not concede the war and seek some peace.

It took Sam only a moment to realize Dean's motivation, that it was the same old one it had been his whole life: take care of Sammy. Cursing and yet adoring his brother for his tenacity, Sam slid his hands under Dean's shoulder and behind his knees. Dean's choked back groan of pain at the movement reverberated through Sam, made him release a moan of despair to counter Dean's and close his eyes. Then, with resolve born out of love and devotion, he fixed his eyes on Dean's steady gaze that offered him strength, even through his own torment, and picked Dean off the hard wood floor. Dean's sharp cry of pain tore through his soul, made him nearly sob. And then Dean fell silent, his eyes sliding shut as he went limp in his arms, passed out.

Trying to make himself believe that it was for the best that Dean was no longer awake to endure the agony…or offer him strength he didn't have to spare, even the strength of spirit, Sam pulled Dean closer to his chest and climbed to his feet. Shifting his burden in his arms until he held Dean more securely, he found he could feel his brother's heartbeat against his arm, was assured that Dean wasn't gone, was simply unconscious. He barely registered Alec's presence, his focus wholly on his brother's face, on the life, the fragile life he held in his hands.

Lithely coming to his feet, Alec stepped toward his brothers. Dean's head rested on Sam's arm at a painful angle and he couldn't help slipping his hand under Dean's head, shifting his brother's lax head gently until it came to rest upon Sam's chest. His eyes flickered to Sam's, wondered if the other man would rebuke him for the time that the gesture wasted. But Sam's red rimmed eyes held only gratitude and fear. Pulling his touch from Dean, he stepped toward the door, took point, vowed to send any of Lilith's minions to Hell if they stood in his way of getting his brothers to safety. Sensing movement in the house, he lowly hissed to Sam over his shoulder, "Someone's coming," a moment before that someone crossed over the room's threshold. Alec's hand wrapped around the intruder's throat and he propelled the man backward, slamming him roughly against the door.

"No! He's a friend! It's Bobby!" Sam exclaimed, terrified that tragedy wouldn't be averted, not with Alec's super human strength and raw emotions.

But Alec had trained himself to restrain his strength, to ensure he never ever hurt the humans he was honored enough to have in his life. So as he released his grip, there was only a red imprint of his hand as a souvenir of his attack on the man's undamaged throat. "Ah..sorry," he apologized, remembered the way his brothers had fondly spoken about their "uncle" Bobby. And he valued anyone that showed Sam and Dean kindness, that was willing to fight along side his brothers.

Knowing Dean had a clone and standing there looking at said clone, it wasn't as easy to accept as Bobby had thought it would be. But his disquiet was trampled under his fear when he looked over the clone's shoulder, saw Sam…saw Dean. Shouldering hurriedly past Alec, Bobby crossed to the brothers' side, his horrified look swiveling from Dean's bloody, pale, unmoving form cradled in Sam's arms, to Sam himself. He opened his mouth but couldn't form words, couldn't voice his worst fear.

"We need to get him to a hospital," Sam said, voice on the razor sharp edge of hysteria and strength. Torn between being the little brother and the protector, between loss and hope.

For a moment, Bobby couldn't speak, slid his hand up to grip Dean's forearm before he saw the need in Sam's eyes. Knew that he had to be strong, for both of them. "Come on, the rest of Lilith's group high tailed it out of here. I'll bring the car around front," he said before he ran from the room, determined to do whatever he could, wished he had done more before now, had spared Dean the wounds that were freely bleeding, had prevented that haunted look in Sam's eyes.

Alec took the lead among the Winchesters, was cautious even after Bobby's words and fearless departure because he couldn't let one more thing hurt Dean, hurt Sam. Had failed badly enough in one day.

Holding Dean, wishing Dean didn't feel so lifeless in his arms, Sam began to follow Alec, didn't spare a thought, a glance for Ruby/Lilith. There was no reveling in victory, in the defeat of their foe, not when the cost had come too high, when it still threatened to cost him what he loved most. Careful to not jostle Dean too badly, to not catch his brother's long legs on the doorway, he left the room behind, turned his back on the hardwood floor darkly stained with his brother's blood.

As Alec and Sam walked from the house, they saw bodies lying on the grass, on the street, just outside the holy water barrier. But neither of them could spare any thoughts to wonder if all the lives were lost or simply unconscious. Had only the strength, the heart to see to their own wounded.

By the time Sam reached the street, Bobby was pulling the Impala to a stop. Leaving the engine running, Bobby jumped from the driver's side, was coming around to open the back door. But Alec beat him to it before be blurred around to open the back door on the driver's side as well.

Bearing his brother in his arms, Sam leaned into the back of the car. He saw that Alec had crawled in from the other side, was reaching for Dean. With only a pang of regret, Sam released Dean into Alec's hold. When Alec pulled Dean forward, he found it both a blessing and a curse that Dean gave no reaction to the motion. Gently he bent Dean's legs to get his brother's tall frame into the car but he couldn't release his grip around his brother's ankle, couldn't let go.

Drawing Dean against him, Alec wrapped his hands around his brother's wounded chest, felt the blood stained towels, was alarmed that they turning cold, just like Dean was. "Sam, sit with him," he ordered, though he knew he had no need to demand it. It was what Sam wanted, needed. To be there with his brother, to hold his brother, to keep their connection coursing through them, through Dean.

Hurriedly coming around the car, Sam slid into the back seat, took Alec's place with his brother, pulled Dean against his chest until his brother's head rested on his collar bone, until he could wrap his arms around his brother, ensure Dean knew he was there, that he wasn't letting go. Alec shut the door behind him. Then, before it seemed possible, the transgenic was bending down in the opposite door. A myriad of emotions were telegraphed on the too familiar, too similar features: imploring, fear, determination.

"We can't take him to a hospital, Sam," Alec quietly stated, tried hard to hide his desperation. He needed to get through to Sam, for the older man to see the logic of what he was going to propose, to trust him. 'Trust me?' Alec bitterly repeated in his head. He had given Sam no reason to trust him, not if the way Dean lay limp and bloody, barely alive in his arms was an indication of just how much he could be counted upon.

Having come to Alec's side, Bobby thundered, "What? Why not?!", his look sliding from the clone to Sam, incredulous at even the notion of simply treating Dean with their fair to middling doctoring. As his gaze darted between the two men, he avoided looking at Dean, didn't want to see the devastating wounds on the young man, didn't want to see the blood that had stained the towels red, was still coating Sam's shaking hands, dripping on the Impala's interior, floorboards. No, he hadn't the strength to face the possibility that he could still lose the boy, had not the heart to calculate the odds. He already knew the odds were against them, had known that from the start. But this hope…if it proved false?! He knew it would be worse than if he had walked into that house and Dean was already gone. Because they had a chance…and if they lost it, if they failed Dean now…it would make Dean's passing all the more painful, would carry another load of guilt in its midst, would decimate Sam: absolutely and abruptly.

Not replying or sparing a look to the older hunter, Alec steadily kept his eyes on Sam, on the only person who had the right to make the decision for Dean. "A hospital..they can't save him, Sam." His heart clenched as Sam swallowed hard, instinctively drew Dean tighter against his chest, railed against the defeat he thought Alec was offered when all he wanted was to make Sam see that they had limited options and no time to debate. But they had options, he knew it, had to believe it, apparently for Sam and for himself. "But we can save him," letting conviction carry in his words, in his features, in the look he sent to Sam.

"Dean isn't one of your Manticore buddies," Bobby lowly bit out. "He can't heal himself, can't sustain this level of injuries and survive without extensive medial help."

"I know that," Alec growled, finally turning to Bobby, angered that the man was misinterpreting his intensions, distorting them, accusing him of things that would never be true. He could never confuse Dean with one of Manticore's soldiers, would always remember that his brother was more frail than he was…in body. But NOT in spirit, not in his heart. That was Dean's strength and was what was keeping him breathing, was giving them a shot to save him. But only if they acted fast, if they didn't waste any more time debating as if they had other options, as if Dean had time …blood he could afford to lose.

"I know where the nearest hospital is," Bobby announced, beginning to walk away, to head to the driver's side but Alec's strong grip on his arm stopped him. Shooting a glare at the clone, he saw Alec's intent focus was totally on Sam.

Alec's heart was thudding in his chest as he looked to Sam, implored Sam to know him well enough to know he wouldn't do anything to hurt Dean, to jeopardize Dean's life: ever. "If we take Dean to a hospital all the good they will do is call time of death. He's lost too much blood, Sam. You know that. I can give him a blood transfusion. The nanobots in my blood, they can repair damaged cells, regenerate healthy cells," he outlined, prayed that Sam could see that it was their most viable solution, could work…had to work.

"We don't know how or if any of that will work on him! This is Dean's life we're talking about!" Bobby heatedly protested, wasn't willing to gamble Dean's life on a science fiction tale. Swiveling his look to Sam, he wanted Sam to see reason but Sam's eyes were fixed on Alec even as his arms coiled even more possessively around Dean's bloody torso.

"Sam, please. Trust me," Alec begged, could see the indecision in Sam's eyes, but he didn't hold it against Sam. This was his brother's life that hung in the balance, that Sam would be risking by trusting him, trusting what he was, what ran through his blood more prominently than Dean's DNA. "I would rather die myself than hurt Dean, you have to believe that."

Swallowing, Sam made his decision, eyes never leaving Alec's. "Bobby we'll be at the motel. Get any medical supplies Alec needs." When he sensed their old family friend's hesitation, his eyes shifted to Bobby and he implored, "Please Bobby!"

Unable to deny the need in Sam, Bobby complied with a nod of his head, turned to Alec and asked him what supplies he needed. Wasn't willing to waste more of Dean's precious time arguing with anyone. It was Sam's decision, was always going to be Sam's decision when it came to Dean's life and he wouldn't contest that, had no right to.

Closing the back door, Alec turned to Bobby, began rattling off his list of supplies as he headed toward the driver's door. Once the clone had finished, Bobby gave Sam and Dean one final look through the now closed door, could see the back of Sam's head as he bent over Dean, rested his chin on Dean's head, spoke lowly words that didn't carry outside the car's interior and weren't for him anyway. Cursing himself for his weakness, for his need to look at the young men he cared too much about for his own good one last time, he took off at a run, aiming for the spot where he had left his own car.

A few minutes later, as Bobby climbed behind the wheel, he knew he was willing to rob a hospital at gun point if he had to for the supplies he needed. Understood the plan was insane…knew just as well that it could work. Could work not because it was supposed to but because, if he had learned one thing about the Winchesters, it was to never underestimate them: their strengths, their crazy weed ideas and never ever their love for each other.

Alec sent the Impala surging forward, fishtailing out of the cul-de-sac. Told himself he couldn't worry about tossing his passengers around, not when time was still slipping through the hour glass, was still running out on them, even if Dean was putting up the fight of his life to stay with them. He held out until he hit the small suburbia's main stretch of road, until his attention could be spared and then he allowed his eyes to stray from the road ahead to the rearview mirror. The scene he saw was both worse and better than he was braced for: the horrifying sight of Dean, bloody, still, so pale his skin seemed almost lucid, of the tender scene of Sam holding his brother in his arms, chin resting against Dean's forehead as his brother's head angled toward his throat. And then, above the Impala's rumbling engine, he heard Sam's soft entreaty of words: for Dean not to die, to stay with him, to keep on fighting.

Instead of the heartbreaking scene, of Sam's words generating an entreaty of his own, it caused Alec to offer up curses and promises of unholy retribution. 'Manticore, you brilliant, heartless butchers, you better not fail me this time. If my blood doesn't work, doesn't save Dean, every last one of you sadists will wish you had burned with Manticore.'

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TBC

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Well, now its official…my little AU has gone really native. Hope some of you will continue to stick with the story. As I've stated before, I wasn't intending to touch on the Season 3 finale, was just going to have Alec and the brothers part ways, but you guys gave me such encouragement to continue that I started reshaping the storyline. And since I got to decide Dean's fate…well, as you can see, I'm just a big ole softie…(Please don't blame me for the dire straits Dean's health is in..that was all Kripke..but of course I'm only too glad to reap the benefits because I'm twisted.). I did want to stay as close to the actual finale as I could, didn't want Alec to intrude on what was so exclusively Sam and Dean territory…well until Alec came in to help save the day.

Thanks for the awesome reviews for last chapter and thanks to everyone for letting me take you on this little detour in the Winchester family history.

Have a great day!

Cheryl W.