Thanks to Beta, Eff-Dot, notes on the bottom if interested in reading.

Raleigh, North Carolina (2018)

"It's latched onto its next victim." Garth paused at Phil's words, thinking he was at least three hours out from Blowing Rock. Unfortunately, old Tela had thrown a belt, and he had to stop in Raleigh to get the old gal repaired. If he'd known the ghost was going to attach itself to another victim, he would have seen about borrowing Benny's beater. But he couldn't do anything about it now, except get his butt in gear to Garth this bad boy.

Still, some protection wouldn't hurt, and may keep the boy alive until he arrived in Blowing Rock. "Sheriff, get a canister of salt, enough to put a ring around the boy and ensure he stays put. I'll be in Blowing Rock," Garth paused, looking at his watch then down at his map since one had to be careful on the roads nowadays. You never knew when you might hit one of the Road Gangs, and another reason he never drove anything flashy, "in three hours, give or take."

He heard a grunt, just a side of surly, and smiled at the image since it brought to mind Bobby Singer, the surliest of them all that turned to jello around his Gertie. Then again, Gertie had the magic touch, like little Sammy, Adam's girl. Both girls had mastered the puppy-dog stare that could stop any grown man at a hundred paces. "Fine, hurry it up. I don't want to see that boy dead. He and his brother have enough problems without a damn ghost being one of them." Garth nodded in agreement with the sentiment despite wishing otherwise.

The world after '09 had gotten pretty bad, and he knew they were looking to see more of that bad in less than a year and a half. "I'm coming, Sheriff. Keep that boy behind a salt line, and he should be good till I get there."

"Right. It'll be dark by the time you reach Blowing Rock, but I'll be in my office. And Garth? It's former Sheriff." Then Phil hung up. Garth smiled, since he doubted the sentiment behind the words held water. Once you started protecting people, you never really stopped. It's why Garth hadn't been able to give up hunting. Because although he wouldn't hunt his own kind, Garth was more than happy to help out with the ghosts and demons. Despite Phil's words, he was no different. In fact, from what little he knew of the man, Phil reminded him of Bobby. That wasn't a bad thing.

Leaving the payphone, Garth walked back to Tela. Getting inside, he patted her wheel. "Well, old girl, we got a drive ahead of us and someone to save." Slapping his glasses on, Garth turned up the music and stepped on the gas.

Manticore Facility, Washington (2018)

When Gabriel arrived at the facility where Dad's new babies were being stored, the archangel did a double-take. Rehel was here, and she was in charge? Naomi's star pupil made most demons seem like Sunday school kids. He'd always thought his father was a bit of a masochist, but this? Then he discovered Qaniel, which only slightly offset his disbelief and disgust.

He'd been curious to see what the new babies were capable of beyond Chip and Dale's headspace, which had been enlightening but didn't tell him everything. Boy oh boy, upon discovering this place, Gabriel was not disappointed with Dad's new creations. Enhanced abilities that put them on par or above Eve's children? Gabriel was certain Eve wouldn't be pleased with that little facet. An immune system that protected them from, well, everything. He was curious, though, to see how they would fare against Pestilence's crowning joy.

AKA, Croatoan.

He knew the new strain was derived from the 2009 strain and more deadly than its predecessor. The previous version could only be spread by blood-on-blood contact. This baby didn't need direct contact. All you needed to do was sneeze on someone, and bam: instant infection. This, along with its short incubation period, was problematic. Before, there was roughly a four-hour period before symptoms appeared, giving said individual time to lock themselves up. Now it was instantaneous, providing the demons far more control over infected subjects.

That wasn't even the worst part. Croatoan could infect, and would eventually kill, an angel's vessel. This hadn't been a possibility before, but Pestilence was persistent, if nothing else, when it came to his babies. However, Gabriel would bet money this affected a demon's vessel too. The initial ingredients, after all, were aimed to advance demonic possession. But his brother despised demons even more than humans, and he wouldn't waste an opportunity to eliminate his progeny when their existence was no longer useful.

Beyond this immunity was the transgenic ability to perceive beyond the veil. Though some psychics could perceive parts, rarely was a human gifted with the full capability to comprehend everything, not unlike those coming close to a demonic contract's end date. All of the transgenics, except for the X7s - which weren't created by his father and were leftovers from his research - had this capability. Given time, Gabriel was confident more abilities would manifest down the line.

It gave him an inkling that his dad hadn't run off with a hooker and left the kids to play with his loaded gun. Well, he did, but Dad obviously had a plan. It's the reason the Righteous Man now had a barcode on the back of his neck. After all, those souls weren't particularly common. In fact, the last time one wandered around Earth, Gabriel told the kid's mother he was unique, and Dad gave the kid a gift to spread his word to the masses worldwide. That led to his inevitable death from a spear through the gut on the cross.

Gabriel pushed aside his bitter musings on Jesus of Nazareth and his twisted fate since Dad had selected the kid. Of course, Dean and his brothers' fates weren't much better. One had been slated to go to Hell and would only be given his freedom when he broke the first lock on Luci's cage. While Muttonhead-Two would essentially poison himself enough to kill Lilith, who held the last lock. Afterward, his brothers would wear them like sock puppets while they duked it out for their big deathmatch, and Earth would undoubtedly be annihilated in the long run. But, semantics.

So yes, since before the Winchesters were a glint in their parent's eyes, Dean and Sam were destined for shit lives, which seemed to be a regular occurrence for anyone earmarked by Dad. But then Dean Winchester went and got himself killed, and his soul up and vanished. No one could find any trace of the Righteous Man, and when Heaven gave up looking, Gabriel threw a party. The apocalypse was off the table, and his brothers wouldn't get the chance to make shish-kabobs out of one another. It had been a happy day. Bonus, he could continue enjoying his preferred career choice of Trickster extraordinaire.

How dreams die young.

Because somehow Azazel found out about the Horsemen's Rings, which meant Mikey must have let that slip, since no one but himself, Mikey, and Raphael knew about this second unlocking mechanism for Luci's cage. Dad made sure they were the only ones to know that secret, and Raphael wouldn't act without their elder brother's say-so.

So with that little tidbit leaked, the apocalypse was back on schedule. As planned, Luci escaped, and just as he thought the battle royal would commence, Sam Winchester pulled a fast one. Gabriel had been impressed with the kid's actions and knew it took guts to make that deal with his brother, knowing that his soul would likely be used as a battery in the battle royal. Of course, Luci could have found a way to break the deal. Hell, Gabriel saw a few ways his brother could technically weasel his way out of it. But he hadn't. Instead, his elder brother, shockingly enough, was pretty quiet before allowing himself to be sealed away for another ten years.

Thus, the apocalypse was delayed, and Gabriel decided to party it up until the grand fight recommenced. Afterward, who knows, maybe he'd continue to live it up on another world. Though none of the species scattered across the universe were as interesting as humanity, he could make it work. Then he ran into Alec and Ben.

Oh, boy, was that a shock to see where Dad had hidden the Righteous Man's soul, in a damned clone. Yeah, masochist and trickster, and many wondered where he got his warped sense of humor from. He walked around this facility, seeing how these kids were, in essence, perfect weapons being primed and made ready for what? That was the million-dollar question: what had Dad created them for? Was it to face off against Luci? Somehow Gabriel doubted it, but what else could it be?

"You're like Father." At the spoken words, Gabriel turned about, and found a tall dog-man?

Huh, he was different. He watched him with open friendliness while a smile glossed over his unique features. He must be one of the earlier models since they weren't made to be pretty. However, this one could distinguish his true form. Not even Rehel or Qaniel could perceive him unless he allowed it. But that's when he spotted the necklace around Fido's neck. An Enochian symbol for protection was carved into the stone, along with a lot of power that none but he and perhaps his elder brothers would be able to perceive. So, Dad must have personally gifted this necklace to Dog Boy. The realization left a bitter after taste in his mouth, and Gabriel pulled out a sucker as a grin pulled at his features to mask the bitterness. "So what's your name?" His smirk became sharper as his words dripped with sarcasm. "Let me guess, Rover?"

It was meant as a joke, but self-consciously Gabriel recognized his words and attitude as jealousy. His father had been here creating new kids and giving them gifts, while his first children were still waiting with bells on for him to provide them with some sign that he was in the house or even gave two shits about them. Hell, it's the main reason Mikey had become such a dick. His elder brother was convinced their father would return if he kept Heaven running as Dad had left it and no more angels stepped out of line. It's also why Naomi went from being a dedicated healer to a grand inquisitor who seemed to get a kick out of breaking any angel to cross the line. Why Raphael took on the persona of a block of wood with a vengeance, becoming less healer and more enforcer to their elder brother. Because like Mikey, his brother didn't know what to do with himself once their father vamoosed. And admittedly, it's why he enjoyed wearing a crown of holly rather than a halo.

Dog Boy started to growl, his features becoming challenging. Gabriel refocused on him and abruptly pushed down his embittered musings on his family drama as he mentally took a good look at the transgenic. This guy regularly cared for the rest of the rejects, even caring for those few brought down here as punishment. Looking closer he found out dad personally named him Joshua (huh, figures, Joshua was one of Dad's favorites) had even looked after Alec when the kid went through a patch of Rehel's "reeducation."

Mocking Joshua was like kicking a puppy, an ugly puppy, but a puppy nonetheless, and one that cared a great deal for his siblings. It was the same with Joshua upstairs. He was there for any angel that needed reassurance or advice, something neither himself nor his elder brothers had provided to the masses for a long time. So Gabriel held up his hands in a gesture of peace. It wasn't Joshua's fault that their shitty father took an interest in them and left everyone else out to dry. "Joshua right, big guy."

He smiled placatingly before zapping a premier supply of beef jerky into his empty hands. It was the good stuff and would last. If he'd been a meat-eater, it would be enjoyable. But the only food he took any pleasure in was sweets. The rest tasted like molecules, and even sweets had taken a while to grow on him before he began to enjoy the perks of pagan godhood.

Joshua dropped the growl and looked pleased, a smile dipping upon his features as he nodded. "Thank you."

"Don't sweat it, big boy, but I'm afraid I've learned all I needed to know about this place. And Dad's long since blown this Popsicle stand." He paused, observing Joshua as he'd stopped scrutinizing the jerky and was watching him with a perceptive look.

"I miss Father too." Those unique features showed understanding. Gabriel could see why Dad spent so much time with Dog Boy here. Intelligence, and loyalty, mixed in with a love that was simple and completely undemanding.

"Anyways, I may drop in from time to time. Enjoy the jerky." With that, he turned his attention to other matters, listening to his sibling's chatter as he attempted to do something he hadn't done since he gave up on Heaven and decided to become a pagan. Gabriel began stretching out his senses to find his father. But after moments of searching as expected, he found nothing. He let out a self-deprecating laugh since he shouldn't have expected anything different from his father. Gabriel instead refocused on his other pet project and looked to see if the chipmunks had found their footing or had gotten their asses rimmed. Both outcomes would amuse him, and Gabriel was curious to see how the two would handle the family business.

Blowing Rock, North Carolina (2018)

494. No, Alec. Maybe if he kept repeating the name, it would become second nature. Like before, Psy-Ops pushed the notion that names and individuality were not suitable for Manticore, and therefore erasable. Except, if he was going to do this travel bit with Ben, who wanted to search for details on their donor (not that Alec cared one way or the other), he understood that introducing himself as Alec rather than 494 would make people more susceptible to manipulation. That, in turn, made the outside acceptable and enjoyable most of the time. Until he resolved where and what to do, he'd continue to humor Ben with his quest to find Dean. Alec ignored the prompt that he was just as interested in finding information on Sam.

Because Alec wasn't returning to Manticore, the foundation of his existence since his birth eighteen years ago. He was leaving it and his siblings behind, likely forever, since if he did go back, he'd die. This awareness was both freeing, terrifying, and heartbreaking. Freeing since he could do as he pleased, though Alec quickly realized that he had no idea what to do with that freedom. Still, the possibility it afforded him was nice. The terrifying part came from an understanding that if Manticore ever caught up with them, he could kiss his transgenic ass goodbye. Because the time for a simple reset and time-out with the rest of the rejects would be vetoed. Neither Lydecker nor the Manticore staff he interacted with at headquarters would tolerate his escape, even with a brilliant excuse. Alec could picture Lydecker's expression as he mouthed off: yeah, a pagan god or angel zapped me to the past and then across the country for kicks. So, can I come home, pretty please?

Sarcasm aside, he found the idea of returning to Manticore unappealing. Even without the certainty of death upon returning, he knew that they were responsible for Rachel's death. That was unforgivable. Alec quickly pushed down the ugly emotions that surfaced when his thoughts flickered to Rachel's death and his part in it.

The worst part of this deal was the heartbreak. He'd never acknowledge such feelings since it would ruin the image of self-confidence he projected rather successfully. But Alec had never wanted to abandon his unit. They were his family, those he trusted with his life. Hell, Alec recognized that if it came down to it, he'd throw his life away for any of them with no regrets. He understood the sentiment was whole-heartedly returned.

But now, Alec presumed they would be subjugated to the same drill all of them went through when the traitors - Ben and his unit - had abandoned Manticore. His gaze moved to where Ben was sleeping. His features were still too pale, while the dark hollows hung under his eyes like fissures. Would his family grow to hate him, as he did with Ben?

Alec didn't like to contemplate that likelihood since it hurt more than he wanted to acknowledge. The only positive he could take away from this probability is that he didn't hate Ben. Sure, at the time, he'd hated him. But if Alec looked closely, he could see those feelings were manifested after his exhaustive stay in Psy-Ops. He smirked, remembering during the beginning that he'd refused to acknowledge what his handlers repeated every waking moment with painful clarity, which was probably why he'd been stuck in Psy-Ops for so long.

Except, as he examined his twin, and scrutinized how hard Ben pushed himself to get that piece of junk working so they could leave behind the ghost that continued to mirror Rachel, Alec remembered the actual reason Ben had fled Manticore. It was to save his sister and find a place where they could be more than soldiers or wind-up dolls to please some dicks in suits. Besides, his memory also supplied him with a firm reminder that Ben had wanted him to come too. But he'd stayed because he couldn't abandon his unit.

And he was overthinking this crap.

Rubbing a hand down his face, Alec figured the stress of having a ghost on his ass is why he was getting emotional and couldn't sleep. His gaze moved to the salt line, which was a huge deterrent to the dearly departed. He found that humorous since who'd have thought a spice could be used to fight off ghosts instead of a proton pack. But he'd seen nothing of Charlotte since Phil marched up here and told him to stay behind the salt until they left town tomorrow. He'd also left behind an iron crowbar that, like the salt, could keep pissed-off ghosts at bay - that explained why Charlotte disappeared in the garage.

Except he was reminded that she hadn't looked like Charlotte this time or any other time, nor like Ben described, a decomposing corpse. Despite his twin's disgust with the ghost, Alec wished he could see what Ben saw, and not Rachel, each time Charlotte came by to say howdy.

Freedom was beginning to sound overrated if it consisted of crap like this. Alec snorted humorlessly as his gaze moved from his twin to the window. It might explain why Ben looked like shit. Because with a face like theirs, he should be living the high life. When his gaze drifted out to the street, 494's breath caught as he spotted Rachel. He reminded himself that it was just Charlotte, not Rachel, who was sweet, funny, and very much… dead.

As he repeated the prompt, 494 noted one difference from the ghost's usual appearance. He wasn't seeing her typical rage and hatred that dominated her features. Instead, all he could see was pain. Anguish… Could it be Rachel this time and not some messed-up spirit? Ghosts were a real thing, and Charlotte continued to haunt his steps. 494, no Alec, wondered if Rachel might be out there somewhere, like Charlotte. God, he hoped not…

When she closed her eyes and walked into one of the empty buildings along the main boulevard, Alec blew out the breath he'd been holding and stilled the tremble running along his hands—mentally shaking his head at his idiocy. Logic dictated that Charlotte was doubtlessly trying to catch him off balance with a new trick. It was a standard tactic used for taking down an enemy.

Yet, despite the firm reminder, memories of Rachel surfaced: admitting that she liked him; laughing as she tried, in her words, to do a cool bit of Mozart; later, insisting they watch the movie Amadeus. Talking with him about inane things or her plans to become a veterinarian. Introducing him to pie. Saying she loved him.

That last one made his throat catch before his self-doubt and hatred could surface. Alec buried his memories and feelings for Rachel, then looked down at the abandoned building. Inside he would likely find a psychopathic ghost, but dammit, he was a genetically engineered super-soldier. What the hell did he have to be afraid of? Again, the image of Rachel's still corpse surfaced, Psy-Ops with its lasers and interrogators drilling into him as he screamed, a corpse being dragged down the hall, the tarp covering it fell back revealing 428, his sister.

Yeah, who was he shitting? Many things terrified him, but Alec needed to face this shit head-on. On that note, he grabbed the iron crowbar and left behind the safety of the salt line and his sleeping twin. He owed that much to Rachel, if it was her, and if not, then that's what the crowbar was for.

Moving quickly, he paused near the hallway to Phil's office. He was still awake and waiting for this specialist that was supposed to take care of Charlotte. Zeroing in on their benefactor, he saw Phil sipping from a cup as he looked over paperwork. The smell notified him that it was coffee. Alec had never thought much of ordinaries. Manticore's treatment instilled a general dislike for humanity. However, like Berrisford, Phil was one of the better ones, and he appreciated what the man was doing for them. Seeing that Phil was distracted, Alec continued outside, ignoring the chill since it didn't affect his system, and moved towards the building Rachel had disappeared into. Or psycho ghost, he again reminded himself of this likelihood.

Pausing in the building's doorway, Alec took in the appearance of the interior. There were a few like it in Blowing Rock - abandoned buildings - but this one was used for storage. Tactically, Alec could see three exits, lots of places for snipers to set up, and key checkpoints good for ambushes. Even as these thoughts trickled through his mind, Alec could mentally hear his brother, 387, telling him to think before jumping in. Except in this instance, he ignored his unit leader's sage advice, then smirked with little humor at the thought.

He really was a mess, having imaginary conversations with siblings on the other side of the country, who were possibly experiencing re-education because of him. Alec firmly pushed down his guilt and continued forward. He already had enough mental issues with this ghost. Alec didn't need to throw his siblings onto the growing pile. Keeping the crowbar relaxed but ready to swing at the drop of a hat, he moved up the stairs, only stopping when he reached a room near the staircase and sighted Rachel in the center. Her back was to him as her shoulders shook from sobs, and despite training, along with the inner voices of 387 and Lydecker telling him to act cautiously in the face of a real threat. Alec eased his grip on the crowbar and stepped into the room.

"Rachel…I-."

Before he could do anything, Rachel disappeared and reappeared before him. Her features once again showed nothing but rage. And those hated words played across his mind: "Why did you kill me, Simon?" Then she reached for him. Those familiar voices were screaming for him to run or defend himself but it didn't matter because it was his fault that Rachel was dead. As she drew closer, the background noise of his brain grew less distinct, and his body began to feel the cold emanating around the room.

Taking a shuddering breath, he responded to the girl he'd fallen in love with and helped kill, "Rachel, I'm so sorry, I didn't understand. I should-!" Before he could finish, something slammed into him with about as much subtlety as a battering ram and knocked the wind out of him, forcing 494 to drop the iron crowbar as he gasped and choked. His mind went blank for seconds before ingrained training kicked in, and he reminded himself around the growing pain that this wasn't Rachel but some dead bitch that had taken her face. The crowbar could hurt it, and 494 shoved down his agony with practiced ease before moving to the weapon capable of holding a ghost at bay. Except before 494 could reach it, he was knocked back by that same force - this time harder - and 494 felt a few ribs snap from the power behind the blow. Again, he ignored the sharp pain that made breathing problematic, and angled his body to take as little damage as possible.

When he crashed into the wall, 494 ignored the pain shooting along his spine and was about to move but found himself pinned to the wall. Held down and trapped, he strained his body to move as panic began to override his calm, and the feeling of helplessness brought forward old memories. 494 was in Psy-Ops, straps holding him down as he screamed and lasers drilled into him, while voices overhead repeated Manticore's mantra. But when the metallic taste of blood touched his lips, 494 found some focus and licked at the blood running from his nose.

He wasn't in Psy-Ops, or Manticore. This was Blowing Rock, and… Rachel! She was standing in front of him, hatred making her pretty features grotesque in the low light filtering from outside. Despite this, 494 needed to tell her the truth. He'd tried to stop it, save her, because he loved her. "Please Rachel…!" Before he could utter anything else, her hand smashed through his chest, but instead of tearing the skin and breaking bones, it latched onto his heart and started to squeeze.

494 gasped, shock and pain making it impossible to think clearly. His heart sped up, beating frantically as the foreign entity squeezed harder, attempting to crush it. And he tried to move away, but 494 could do nothing against the pressure around his heart as it beat faster and faster, and her grip tightened. Subconsciously 494 knew even his enhanced body couldn't take much more of this. Throughout it, Rachel's expression started to change, the rage was still present, but a demented smile had fallen across her lips, making her appear ghoulish as she smiled at him.

Everything was beginning to darken as his thoughts dimmed, the intense pain fading. Dimly, he registered a shout that sounded like Ben. However, 494 found his focus dipping to the corner of the room, where he saw another guy. He was a tall man with long brown hair and hazel brown eyes that were beginning to brighten to luminous white. As 494 watched the man, his expression came close to something Lydecker would throw at him when he was dissatisfied with his performance. No, more like 387, his brother, whenever he became exasperated because he'd done something stupid. But the hand-squeezed harder, and his heart stopped, then everything went dark.

It's probably obvious by now, but Alec is Dean; there is a reason for this, along with Lucifer's interest which will be revealed down the line. I'm happy to see people are looking if you leave any comments, favs, or follows; I also appreciate those. As for updates, I'm staying a couple of chapters ahead, so as soon as I finish writing the next chapter, I'll post the one I've already finished. Enjoy.