It's in the Genes

by Cheryl W

Crossover Supernatural 3rd sn with Dark Angel 2nd sn -AU– It’s the Winchesters who break Alec from jail in Hello/Goodbye and then they start road tripping together. Bunch of drama/harm/comfort scenes I wanted to see the three boys share. No slash

23. Chapter 23

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. Nor do I own any rights to the lyrics of "Next Contestant."

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.

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Chapter 23

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"Barkeep, another," Alec lowly called to the bartender, nodding to his unforgivably empty shot glass. Watched dispassionately as the amber liquid was sloshed into the glass, ached to simply grab the bottle from the bartender's hand, swallow down the half quart left. Wanted this pain to stop…or at least dampen, almost missed Manticore's laser treatments that ripped memories out of his mind, seemingly with a hot torch. Cause these memories? He. Didn't. Want. Them.

He had thought he belonged somewhere for the first time, that he was part of something, someone. That he was loved, him, not the role he was effecting for an objective but him, all of him, even the nasty assassin, coward-that-bartered-with-White-for-his-life him. Swallowing the alcohol in one gulp he called out for the bartender again, wanted to wipe the day off the map, forever. It was almost ironic, that Max was letting him go so he could stay with his brothers and now Sam and Dean didn't want him sticking around. That it had gone from choosing between his two families to having none. From having everything he ever wanted…'To everything I truly deserve,' he darkly concluded, chastising himself for thinking he was due happiness when he had brought pain to so many people. Had brought it to the people he loved most of all: Rachel, Joshua, Max, Sam, Dean. He had left them all down in his own way, had lied to them, broken vows to them, had stacked their lives against his own happiness. All for nothing, so he could end up alone, different. Different from the others at Manticore, different from the two men he loved as brothers, so different that he didn't belong anywhere…not even in his own skin sometimes.

A drunk, baritone voice at his back broke through his personal pity party. "You've got one of those barcodes. You're one of those mutant freaks, aren't you?" the man's tone conveying that TC's Good Samaritan operations had done nothing to warm his feelings toward Manticore's progenies

Alec smiled. With the type of day he was having, this was like a gift: someone willingly offering themselves up to be his punching bag. Swiveling around on the bar stool, he smiled wider, and wagged his finger at the guy who stood taller than his brother Sam, had probably a hundred pounds on him, most of which was muscle. "You're a fan, right? I can always tell, have a sixth sense about that. Well, I actually have more senses than six but I don't like to brag, not when I've been blessed with packaging like this," and he pointed to his face. "But you.." he scowled, "Well you weren't. You know ugliness like yours is beautiful to some of my kind. I can hook you up…." And he didn't even try to block or dodge the man's right cross, left himself open to it. The pain as the fist connected with his jaw, as his teeth tore into the inside of his mouth and the man's knuckles cut his lip…he relished. Welcomed the left cross that landed on his eye a second later, knocking him to the bar floor with a jarring thud.

Down on the sticky beer sloshed wooden floorboards, Alec began to push himself upright, laughing a bitter sound as he did so. When the bully's foot lashed out toward his ribs, he blocked it with his forearm, because, yeah, pain felt good but the idea of returning the favor …that was where it was at. With the speed Manticore endowed him with, he came off the floor, latched onto his opponent's shirt, spun the man around and slammed him into the nearest wall within seconds. Hatred, hurt brimming from his eyes, boring into the stranger's fearful gaze, he coiled his fist back and released it. Sent it, at the last moment, not into the man's face but into the wall instead. His strike smashed through the paneling and plaster to the wood struts beyond, shook the beam's foundations…just like his own foundations were shaken. Shaken but not destroyed, not yet because, like Berrisford had said about Rachel, he still wanted Sam and Dean to be proud of him, was still their brother, regardless if his devotion wasn't reciprocated.

Sliding his trembling hand free of the man's shirk, he stammered, "I…I don't want to hurt you," head turned away, swallowing the emotion that was choking him. "Just walk away," he breathed out, plead, threat, order rolled into the three words before his eyes collided with the stranger's. And it was cue enough for the guy.

Separating himself from Alec's deadly perimeter, the man stumbled a moment on legs made unsteady more by fear than physical failings. And then he headed for the door, left his table mates to make their own way home. Understood, in the most basic way, that he had provoked a lion and was, miraculously, walking away, all limbs in tact. Had seen, had felt, first hand, the unbelievable strength in the mutant. Knew that he was spared injury even death only by the other man's mercy. Found that he believed the anguished whispered words, "I don't want to hurt you.' And the mutant hadn't. Had chosen not to though he had provoked him, had been asking for it, maybe even deserved it. 'Crap, the mutant's a better man than I am.' And that thought sober him more than his ex-girlfriend's parting words a month back. Had him rethinking his path and his prejudices as he climbed into his car and turned on the engine.

Withdrawing his hand from the wall, Alec turned to face the other patrons of the bar, a bar that had fallen silent and still. Saw an odd mixture of emotions in the faces he saw: fear, hatred, surprise..respect? And oddly it didn't garner one ounce of emotion from him. He didn't care what these strangers thought about him. Whether they wanted to string him up or let him pull up a chair. Turning his back on them all, allies and enemies alike, he reclaimed his bar stool, opened his mouth to say 'barkeep' but the bartender was already there, not pouring him a drink but sitting the bottle down in front of him before scampering off to the other end of the bar.

Raising the bottle in a salute to the bartender's generosity, he took a swig, winced as the alcohol burned on his cut lip and mouth but he enjoyed that same sensation as the liquid slid down his throat. Could hear the scuffle of people getting up from their tables, was poised for another confrontation but the footsteps led out the bar door, not towards him. Not yet anyway.

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Sensing Dean's eyes on him even across the Impala's dark interior, Sam sharply demanded, "What?" hands tightening on the steering wheel.

"Nothing," Dean denied but his tone held that element of amusement that always drew Sam in.

"What?" Sam drawled out, eyes shooting from Dean back to the road again and then to Dean.

"Nothing just…You're promoting the 'we gotta let Alec go' slogan and yet who is out looking for him right now like an overprotective mother." And Dean tried, hard, to not let some measure of hope slip into his tone. Because this, Sam's worry, it meant that Sam wasn't willing to give Alec up anymore than he was. Meant that maybe it would be two against one when it came to talk to Alec about his future, about with whom his future rested. And it wasn't going to be him who was the odd man out.

Sam shot Dean an indignant look. "He's been gone for hours, Dean. And he's not answering his phone. Tell me you're not worried?!"

"Sam, he's been stuck with us for weeks, first in that crappy motel room and now in the cabin. He probably needed his space," Dean casually rationalized, but Sam couldn't see, amid the car's dark interior, the worry in the green eyes that met his. The fear that Alec had already made his decision about where he belonged, who he belonged with, that his youngest brother had already left him behind.

"You didn't answer my question, Dean?" Sam pressed because he didn't have to see Dean to read Dean.

"Check out this bar," Dean gruffly ordered, pointing to the ramshackle building that had enough electricity to light a beer advertisement but not the bar's parking lot.

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Alec's hand was tightening around the liquor bottle almost to shatter point when a familiar, unexpected voice railed at him from the bar's entrance. The voice, the presence of his brothers encumbered his muscles, breath, mind and heart. Left him sitting there like a statue, afraid that if he moved he would splinter apart.

"Nice disappearing act, Alec!" Sam lowly bit out as he stalked toward his younger brother, Dean only a few steps behind him. "And why isn't your phone on?!" he demanded, eyes transfixed on his little brother's profile, wanting an explanation for the gut wrenching worry he had endured for the past few hours.

Surprise, happiness, despair and bitterness all swelled in Alec for a moment but then he drew on his Manticore training, put away the part of him that was weak, sought to be the true blue soldier who was too cold-hearted to be hurt. With only a minuscule hitch in his breathing, he set his focus onto his drink, pretended Sam was just another stranger calling him out. He couldn't afford to believe the lies anymore, to pretend that he was a Winchester, that Sam and Dean wanted him with them. Not if he wanted to salvage any part of himself. "'Cause I turned it off," he evenly answered Sam's question, taking another healthy swallow from the liquor bottle, his eyes on the row of bottles behind the bar.

Stunned by Alec's reaction, wondering what had occurred since they had all sat down for lunch at their kitchen table, Dean opened his mouth to demand Alec tell him what was going on, intended to invade Alec's personal space to get his answers. However he ended up doing neither: talking or moving. Was thwarted by the warning clamoring in his gut, that sixth sense that forewarned him when bad things were about to happen. Or, as his luck would have it, had already happened.

Forcing himself to draw his attention away from Alec, Dean scanned the bar's dark interior for the perceived threat. He stiffened as he realized that all eyes were on them. And no one looked like they were about to offer to buy them a drink. "Ah, guys…" he lowly said, attempting to get Sam and Alec's attention without shifting his steely eyed standoff with the bar patrons. Felt, in that moment, like a marshal from a western doomed with the task of single handedly holding back a lynch mob.

Ignoring Dean, Sam stepped into his little brother's space and chastised Alec, his fear and worry morphing into anger now that he had located his MIA little brother. "Why would you turn your phone off? Why would you do that?! We didn't know where you went? If something happened to you…."

Turning to face Sam for the first time, Alec quietly challenged, "I know, you're disappointed that I'm still around? Hoped that I had saved you the trouble of asking me to leave?"

But Alec's words, they didn't register with Sam. Sam's attention and breath had been stolen away by the marked evidence of abuse on his brother's face, by the blood on his brother's lip, the bleeding cut over his eye, the red splotching of the skin on his cheek that would morph into a dark bruise. "Hey," he gently said, voice soaked in concern even as he reached out to grab Alec's chin. He didn't take it personally when Alec flinched back from his touch, had dealt with that brand of prickly, stubborn Winchester pride often enough with his big brother. "What happened?" his voice intertwined with concern and menace.

Leaning his side against the bar and propping his elbow on the counter Alec drawled with a smile that revealed teeth still covered in blood, "Oh, I'm just getting to know the locals."

"Who!?" Sam demanded venomously, eyes already scanning the bar patrons for the idiot who thought he could hurt his brother and get away with it.

Recognizing Sam's protective instincts and anger, Alec affected a stage whisper, "Ah, genetically empowered super soldier here. I think I can handle some barflys."

At Alec's blatant statement, projected loud enough to carry to the tables closest to the bar, Sam clamped his hand over Alec's mouth and "shushed" him. Wondered if this was how Alec was drunk: careless…reckless with his own life. Basically like Dean sober.

Forcefully disengaging Sam's hand from his mouth, Alec scoffed with a cocky smile, "Relax. You could say the 'cat's out of the bag.'"

In chorus, Sam and Dean gave a hushed, outraged shout of "What?!" their eyes fixed on Alec, hoping that the younger man wasn't implying what they thought he was implying.

Reading no denials in Alec's features, Dean cursed under his breath. Turning again to the rest of the bar, he gave a fabricated smile at the spectators to their family drama, watched with dread as people started to climb to their feet, began funneling into an effective force to overrun them. "Guys it's time to wrap up this episode of 'Sammy knows best' and get out of here, " he mumbled lowly for his brothers' ears only while still offering a smile to the crowd. Unconsciously he reached for the gun in his waist band…a gun that wasn't there because Sam had confiscated it from him before they left, stating that he didn't need a gun…or even one of his fake badges. 'Sure, tell me that again, Sam.' he internally groused.

Dropping his shoulders, Dean placated to the hostile crowd, "Alright, alright, no one wants this to end the wrong way," his voice at its most soothing. Was playing peacemaker because more was at stake than a few black eyes and some broken bar furniture. Knew that Alec was at stake, Alec and all the rest of the trangenics's safety and future was on the line with every encounter they had with Ordinaries. Wanted Alec and the other transgenics to be accepted, not feared, not hated. He never wanted Alec to become the hunted, to become a page in some hunter's journal…or a post office's wallpaper.

To Dean's entreaty one of the mob's frontrunners pointed at Alec and accused, "He's one of those mutants!"

Another man called out, tone brimming with hatred, "He should be locked up! Put back in a cage where he belongs!!"

At the words, Dean's blood ran cold. Felt sick at the thought of Alec treated like an animal, put in a cage to be studied, to be tested, to be killed. Stepping forward to face off with the man who had spoken, he claimed, his tone a deadly rumble while his eyes leveled a lethal threat, "That's my brother you're talking about."

"Then maybe you deserve your own cage…" a malicious voice called from the back of the crowd.

At first, Alec was amused at the name calling, the threats. It was nothing that wasn't bandied about on the streets, hurled at him from the perimeters of TC. But Dean's declaration, it jolted through him, shifted what he had thought he understood about Dean, about Sam, about what they thought of him. Again. He quietly stammered, "brother?" trying to figure out the Winchesters, how one minute they could talk about wanting him to leave and the next claim him as their brother, ready and willing to get into a brawl over an insult to him. But however confused he was, the threat to Dean clarified everything. No matter how Dean felt about him, he loved the older man and Sam more than he thought himself capable of loving anyone. And no one was allowed to threaten his brothers, to soil them with the insults they were hurling at him, to think for a second that Dean was another product of Manticore to be feared…or hated…or hurt.

Stepping in front of Dean, blocking his brother's intentions to go toe to toe with an angry mob for him, Alec snarled at the strangers who dared to mess with his family, "Insult me all you want but my brothers aren't fair game. You go after them and I'll show you just how well Manticore taught me the fine art of…"

"Alec!" Sam sharply called, cutting off his brother's words and latching onto Alec's arm, wanting to protect Alec's reputation, the transgenics' reputation. He knew, first hand, what it felt like to be hated and hunted for being different, didn't want Alec to forever carry that stigma with him. He was rewarded by Alec's eyes contact, though he could read the seething anger in his brother's eyes at the insults. Insults not made to him, but to Dean, to his family. "Let's just get out of here, alright?" Sam quietly suggested, implored, wanting to get Alec and Dean out of there before things escalated.

"Yeah, run away, freaks!" someone shouted and a beer bottle sailed through the air.

Alec's hand shot out, snagged the bottle, intact, midair, inches from Sam's face. And it was Alec's point of no return. The physical attack on his brothers, it was the last straw to his restraint. Made him abandon his directive to hold back his boiling anger, to conceal his deep love for his brothers, for the two men who were standing at his side even when it meant they could be killed for their show of loyalty.

Instead of blurring to the man who had thrown the beer bottle at Sam, he stalked forward, letting the bottle slip from his hand to shatter on the bar floor. Wanted the man to see him coming, to read in his eyes the retribution that was his to take any way he wanted. Honestly didn't know if Sam had left him go or if he had broken free of his brother's grip.

Now empty handed, the medium built, tattooed man who had used his beer bottle as a missile stepped back at the transgenic's approach, fisted his hands at his side, nervously bounced on his feet, told himself he was ready to teach this mutant a lesson in humanity. To his credit, he threw the first punch…but the transgenic caught his punch in his hand, easily. Knew he was going to get slaughtered when the mutant smiled…right before he head butted him and followed up with a right cross that knocked out two of his teeth. He didn't have time to retaliate before his jaw cracked under the assault of a left cross and a knee plowed into his gut. He crumbled to the ground, and, to his cowardly relief, the transgenic left him there, didn't haul him to his feet to finish him off.

Leaving the trash on the floor, Alec raised his heated gaze to the other bar patrons, dared them to just try and hurt his brothers. "Any body else got something to say about my brothers?" he goaded, more than ready and willing to fight for his brothers, if not for himself.

When a beefy guy stepped from the ranks of the crowd, muscled arms rippling as he raised his fists, Dean undertoned, "Here comes the next contestant." And he readied himself to step up to Alec's side, to join the ranks of this family fight.

Alec looked at Dean over his shoulder, winked, lowly vowed, "This time someone's getting hurt." Then, without even bothering to turn back from his eye contact with his brother, he lashed out with his foot, connected with the beefy man's groin.

As the man dropped to the ground with a groan of pain, Sam smiled and slipped to Alec's side, purposefully cut off Dean's forward advance. "And there goes the next contestant," he drawled, coming even with Alec. He and Alec shared a glance as they made a two man wall between the combats in front of them and their still healing brother at their back. Their mission was clear: kick some butts…and keep Dean safe. Just another day at the office because, fighting and protecting, it was what a Winchester was made for.

Struggling to get off the ground, Alec's previous downed tattooed opponent howled when his hand was stepped on as the bar erupted into full fledged brawl mode. Covering his head with his hands and drawing his legs up into a fetal position, he prayed he wouldn't be killed by a stampede of feet.

Wading into the wave of aggressors, Sam ducked the first punch thrown at him, grabbed the man's shirt yanked him toward him, kneed him in the stomach and downed him with a right cross and moved onto the next willing opponent. Peripherally he could see Alec, who was blocking the punches coming his way, childishly easy. Punches thrown by two men at the same time. Then as if he were bored, Alec delivered a right cross to one of his opponents and then a left hook to the other man's stomach. He casually stepped over the fallen men to take on the next foolish batch of Ordinaries.

Gritting his teeth at Alec and Sam's protective routine, at their sheer greediness for all of the fun, Dean skirted to the left of Sam's brawling match, winced in sympathy as he watched Sam take a jab to the face. Then he was free and clear, had a man of his own to take on, recognized him as the one who had said Alec deserved to be in a cage. "Glad you saved yourself for me," he lowly greeted even as he smirked, fire raging in his eyes, retribution ready to be unleashed. Dean heard Sam's panicked call of his name but he ignored his little brother's worries for him, instead he growled as he stepped forward. The left cross came at him like everything was in slow motion and his body, for the first time in weeks, responded like it should, like he had trained it to do. Blocking the blow with his forearm, Dean slid his hand down, grabbed the man's wrist and yanked it down to his side. Pinning the man's arm between his arm and his body, he unleashed a left cross to his trapped prey, followed it with another cross and another. Sensing that the guy had had enough, he released the man's arm, shoved him backwards and, for good measure, sent a kick into the man's shin that had him stumbling backward to land onto an empty table.

Reveling in his victory even as he struggled to get his breath back from his exertion, Dean leaned over, rested one hand on his leg and pressed the other to his chest where a burning ache was spreading. Sensing danger a moment too late, he straighten up only to move right into position of the left cross headed his way. Unprepared for the blow, his body still far from healed, his strength no where near normal, and his left leg not yet up to the task of stabilizing his stance under pressure, he took the punch like a chump. He was fighting to stay conscious even as he knew he was destined for a rough landing on the floor.

Cursing stubborn brothers, Sam had reached out and tried to snag Dean's shirt as Dean stalked by him, had called his brother's name but Dean hadn't even acknowledged it. And when he tried to break free of his own fight to prevent Dean from getting into the fray, he had been deterred by a knee to his gut and a left jab to his right cheek. Now having earned his perimeter of personal space, he stood there, breathing hard, a little more bloody and unsteady, his hands aching and his eyes scanning the room. It took him a moment before he saw Dean, watched in concern as Dena leaned over. Called out a "No!" as he saw Dean ambushed by the left cross, then he was shoving people out of his way to get to his brother's side.

Like a hurricane, Alec blew through the throng of fighters to catch Dean in his arms, to keep his brother off the ground. Cringed as Dean's momentum and his own sent Dean's chin colliding into his collarbone, causing Dean to nearly fold in his arm. Cursing, Alec bent down a little to halt Dean's descent. Gently but firmly, he pulled Dean up to his full height and spun him around so Dean's back wasn't to his enemies. His own back he left open, cared very little what happened to him as long as Dean was safe. It left them both a front row seat to Sam's reprisal.

Steamrolling his way toward the man who had sucker punched Dean, Sam shut out the sounds and sights around him, focused on the prey in his sights. The man attacked first, sent his left cross his way like he had to Dean. But Sam was ready for it, wasn't hurt like Dean was. He used his forearm to halt the blow, let his eyes sear into the man's for a few heartbeats, wanted the man to know this was personal, all the way. Then he ruthlessly landed a right cross, a left cross and finished it all up with an uppercut. His killer uppercut. The uppercut he didn't bring out to play unless he was truly pissed and wished to annihilate his opponent. And annihilate it did. It sent the man flying backwards to crash into two tables and then topple to the floor, unconscious.

Seeing that the mob was dispirited, maybe even afraid, Alec, arm still wrapped around Dean, started backing himself and Dean toward the door, latched onto Sam's shirt as they started to pass by him. "Time to leave," Alec ordered, his Manticore soldier mode springing to life as he gave Sam a harder pull until his brother broke from his enraged stupor, looked his way. "Sam, we have to get out of here before the cops show."

Sam nodded his head, and stumbled a moment, felt Dean and Alec's hands come to rest on his shoulder to steady him. "I'm alright," he reassured but his eyes were on Dean. Needed to make sure that Dean was alright, knew it was also crucial that Dean believed him when he said he was alright.

Dean nodded his head as much in acceptance of Sam's claim as in answer to the question in his brother's eyes. Then he straightened away from Alec, wasn't surprised when Alec and Sam latched onto his shirt as if they expected him to either fall down or engage the enemy again. "Alec is right," he voiced, eyes on the crowd that was edging backwards now. "We're done here." Then he turned around and walked toward the door, knew that Sam and Alec, they had his back. Knew that they always had each other's backs. It was just what family did.

Stepping out of the bar into the crisp night air, Dean drew in a breath, was rewarded with his lungs working like they were supposed to, though there was still a twinge of discomfort in his chest at the exhale. Watched as Alec kicked off the bar's doorknob, ensuring that the bar patrons didn't continue their 'we hate transgenics' rally into the parking lot. Turning around, intending to lead the march to the Impala, he wasn't prepared to have Alec's fingers clamping down on his arm, halting his progress. Or, in the next second, to have his two brothers suddenly looming over him, very much in his personal space.

In unison, Sam and Alec worriedly demanded, "Are you alright?"

Gently, Sam grabbed Dean's chin and turned his brother's head. Scanning over Dean's features with his trained eyes, he took stock of the bruising starting to make an appearance on his brother's right cheekbone. Didn't dislodge his grip even when Dean's hand wrapped around his wrist, only did so when Dean leveled his 'you keep touching me and you're going to get a serious beat down' look at him. Sighing, Sam slid his touch from Dean's face but didn't step back, refused to give Dean the opportunity to skirt by him and downplay any new or aggravated injuries.

Released from Sam's big paw, Dean shifted on his feet, saw Alec and Sam tense as if they were prepared to take him to the mat if he tried to dodge away from them. Rolling his eyes, he catered to their needs. "Yeah, yeah, I'm alright," he grumbled but then a full fledged smile lit up his features. "Dudes, that was great! I'm officially off the bench!" he crowed. The adrenaline still thrumming through him, the feel of being alive, at having proof that he was clawing his way back to his usual strength, it made him smile widely even as Sam and Alec scowled harder.

"Not quite slugger," Sam shut him down almost instantly, resolve in his tone and the parental look he bestowed on Dean. "You just got to hit a few strays from the sidelines during the game, that's all." Unwilling to allow Dean to take this as his all clear sign, to think he was up to hunting, that he didn't have to pace himself anymore or make sure someone was around when he did his physical training exercises. "You're still keeping the bench warm."

Dean sent a glare to Sam at the analogy, at the mothering that Sam was not relinquishing, even in light of his actions that night. He wasn't helpless anymore, didn't need his little brothers standing guard over him, night and day. Was anxious to take back his big brother mantle. Alec's words derailed his argumentative comeback.

Pulling back from Dean and Sam, Alec paced behind them a moment. He tried to calm himself down, to get to the point where he could speak instead of shout. "You two," he began, pointing to each brother in turn, "make absolutely no sense, you know that?! One minute you're packing my bags for me and the next you're tracking me down and risking your life to defend my "honor.""

"Packing your bags? What does that mean?" Dean shot back, confusion and effrontery in his tone and the look that he sent Alec's way.

Alec shook his head, paced some more before he stilled and raised his hand dramatically, "I heard you." But when Dean's eyebrows simply rose further and Sam's brow creased in confusion, he lowly bit out, "That you think I should go back to my own kind."

The word, the emphasis sliced into Dean, had him stepping toward Alec, anger in his low growl, "Your kind?!"

Hating that he needed to spell it out, Alec gave a bitter laugh at their miscommunication, even when it came to insults and betrayals and goodbyes. "You said I was different," his eyes shifted to Sam, dreading the evidence even as he needed it to sever the ties, to truly be able to at least attempt to move on, to leave like they wanted him to. The way Sam's face lost all color was verification enough, told him that Sam had meant what he said, all of it. Every last word.

Eyes swiveling between Alec and Sam, it took Dean a moment to catch up to his brothers' train of thought. But when it became clear, when he knew what Alec had heard, had thought they were saying, he stepped closer to Alec, met his brother's pained eyes and tersely refuted, "We didn't mean Manticore different."

Sam hurriedly jumped into the conversation. Was shamed that Alec had heard his words, had misunderstood them, had taken them as reproof, as betrayal instead of the acceptance and the love that they represented. "You have options yet, Alec. That's what I meant. You don't have to live this life." But Alec's eyes tightened in confusion at that reference. "The life of a hunter, always on the road, always in danger."

And Sam couldn't help but look to Dean, needed to know how badly his efforts to keep his little brother safe had hurt his big brother. However, Dean didn't meet his eyes. Instead Dean turned away, from him and from Alec. Was a heartbeat away from leaving them both. Escaping from the two people he loved most…and who were seemingly ganging up on him, were eager to abandon him. 'Crap, that's not true Dean. It's never been easy to leave you, no matter how I or Dad made it seem. And it won't be easy on Alec,' Know how true that was with just one look in Alec's eyes as his words finally began to resonate through the younger man.

The breath trapped in Alec's lungs because, Sam, he wasn't shoving him away…he was letting him go, just like Max had. His brother wanted him to make his own choice, wanted him to be happy, even if he found it somewhere other than with him, with his family. Alec couldn't help but follow Sam's lead, to look to Dean. Had to see if Dean felt the same way, that maybe he had misunderstood all of it. That his older brother didn't want him to go after all, didn't want him to change for them, or even into them. But Dean wouldn't meet his eyes anymore than he would meet Sam's. Left trying to decipher Dean's emotions, he saw the jump in his brother's jaw, detected the way Dean held himself taunt, as if he was willing himself to stand there and endure whatever the outcome was.

Not trusting his analysis of Dean's emotions, Alec shifted his look to Sam, saw the expectancy in his brother's eyes, knew that Sam was encouraging him to make his choice. But it was a choice he had already made, months ago. Had subconsciously made when he followed Sam out of that jail in Seattle, had first climbed into the back of the Impala, had made when he realized that he had brothers. Brothers who would risk their lives to break him out of jail, brothers who had taught him how to hunt, brothers who had been determined to keep him with them, even when it would have been easier, safer to leave him behind.

"Danger doesn't bother me," Alec boasted with a wave of his hand. "And being on the road? Considering I haven't seen much besides the inside walls of Manticore and the streets of Seattle, I'm all for road tripping." He was encouraged when his little speech got Dean's head turning his way, slowly but surely. "And as for the hunting, thought that was the family business: saving people, hunting things. How can I get the family logo shirt if I'm not part of the family…" he meant to tack on 'business' but couldn't, said instead what was truth. That if he wasn't hunting, wasn't by his brothers' sides, it felt like he wasn't part of them, part of their family, part of his own family.

Finally facing Alec, reading the need for approval, his approval in his little brother's eyes, Dean assured, "You don't have to hunt to be part of the family, Alec." Then his eyes strayed a moment to Sam, to let Sam know that just because he stopped hunting and went to Stanford, they had still been brothers, had always been brothers. Refocusing on Alec, he firmly pointed out, "We're brothers and nothing is going to change that, Alec. Nothing. What Sam wants… and what I want is for you to be happy. And Sam's right, this life, our family business, it's not unicorns and rainbows, man. It's pretty craptastic on the best of days," he depreciatingly pointed out, tacked on a bitter laugh. "If my Dad hadn't dragged me into it at such a young age…" but he stopped there, shot a shamed look at Sam who was looking at him with something akin to sympathy. Returning his look to Alec, he qualified, "What I'm saying is, don't throw your life away on hunting, man. Not when you have a shot at being safe." And it hurt, letting Alec go even as he knew in his heart it was the right thing to do, like letting Sam go to Stanford and his Dad split in Chicago. It was crappy but sometimes leaving him was the safest course of action for the people he loved.

Sam bit his lip, fought down his own emotions because he knew what this was costing Dean, what Dean was sacrificing. Knew it was prompted out of love, selfless love at that. Just like Dean's crossroad deal had been. Was about saving the ones Dean loved at the cost of Dean's own happiness.

"Safe?" Alec repeated, scratching his head, eyes down a moment before they met Dean's. "Do I really look like the type of guy who wants safe?" he asked, eyebrows arching as if it was a rhetoric question, an insulting notion. "Safe is boring. Safe is sitting around waiting to grow old. Being safe is…" but he halted, swallowed. Dropping his light tone, his walls, his safeguards, he looked at his brothers stripped of his defenses, "Safe is worth nothing if I'm not with my family."

"What about Max? Joshua?" Dean quietly asked, wasn't willing to celebrate victory just yet. Not until the last loopholes were sealed up nice and tight and he knew, without a doubt, that Alec wasn't going anywhere.

Alec smiled smugly, "Max has threatened me bodily harm if we don't pay a visit in a few months. And Josh, he's got dog empowerment going on since he's 2nd in command. Probably doesn't even know I'm gone."

"Yeah he does," Sam refuted softly, eyes warm as they met Alec's. "You sure this is what you want?" he quietly persisted, didn't want Alec to live with regrets, to wonder what could have been, to feel like he couldn't have it both ways, them and his TC family.
Dean held his breath as Sam's inquiry hung in the air, as he watched Alec's features shift from lighthearted to contemplative.

Alec stepped forward then, put a hand on Sam's shoulder and Dean's and drawled, "You think I would bail on someone as hot as Max if I wasn't serious about going on this brother road trip with you two?"
"Good point," Dean and Sam voiced their agreement simultaneously. Because yeah, Alec was a Winchester, he knew that hot women, they weren't to be dismissed lightly.

"Ok, then, let's hit the road," Alec said with a wide smile. Pulling his hands free of his brothers, he started walking for the Impala.

Sharing a look, Sam and Dean broke into matching smiles.

"You're going to regret this after being stuck listening to Dean's music 24/7," Sam called out to Alec's back.

"No, you're going to regret this after Sam gets toxic in the car!" Dean contradicted, matching Sam's gait as they started to follow Alec's lead.

"No, I won't," Alec quietly, sincerely vowed. And he meant it, with all his heart. Just the few hours he had spent contemplating what his life would be like without his brothers, without being a Winchester, it was a few hours too many. He now knew, with desperate certainty, that he would never let that become reality, would fight to his last breath to stay with his brothers, to be a Winchester. That his days of leaving, of getting out while the getting was good, of skipping out on people before he could hurt them…or they could hurt him, those days were over. Forever. He was home and he wasn't going anywhere.

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TBC

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Thanks for everyone's wonderful compliments and encouragements on last chapter!

Have a great day!

Cheryl W.