The sun was setting. And there was still no sign of the damned kid.

They had been in and out of the sewers all day—Joshua's abnormal features confining them to the shadows and the less populated areas. He still wore that ridiculous biker's helmet to try to conceal it, but it only did so much in a city that was keeping their eyes peeled for 'trannies.'

Which kept them from being completely effective. Because Dean didn't have near the same problem. The 'tiny fella' as Joshua had dubbed him, could get into spaces both Joshua and Alec could only dream of fitting into. Hell, he wouldn't be surprised if the kid had slunk through a hole leading to China by this point.

All they had going for them was that he apparently had a very 'unique' scent. From Joshua's fragmented vernacular, Alec picked up very fast that the kid smelled like one of a kind. When Alec had distractedly pointed out that most people do, Joshua shook his head. The big fella must have figured it was a very important point to make, because he grabbed Alec in the middle of a shadowed alley—pulling the harried transgenic up short.

"Smells like Alec," he said. And that didn't make a damn lick of sense.

"Thought you said he had a one-of-a-kind scent?"

Joshua bobbed his head, shaggy brown locks flapping in his face with the movement. "Smells like Alec. Smells like Joshua. But—but wild Joshua." He nodded. "Smells like Dean. Special."

Alec, who at this point had somehow been grabbed by the lapels of his jacket and pulled nose-to-helmet with the seven-foot transgenic, smiled tightly.

"Right," he drawled, internally wondering if the big man had stretched out his jacket beyond repair. Then again, he had more important things to worry about. Like the ability to stand on his own two feet. "Down, Josh."

Unique scent or no unique scent, they couldn't find him. They had gone in and out of sewers, dodging the sector patrols and police drones, seemingly following the scent over the whole of Seattle.

Whoever trained the kid was good. Damned good. The scent wove and bounced, doubling back on itself so many times that Alec was half-convinced Joshua would hyperventilate for how hard he was trying to pick it up again. Sometimes he would hear Josh mutter about it smelled more like dog than Dean. Whatever the hell that meant.

Alec wasn't like most of the transgenics at TC. A lot of them dismissed Joshua as idiotic, having a fraction of the intelligence that the other transgenics did. And sure, he didn't have a 190 IQ. But he did have an intuition to beat… well, a dog. And an understanding and a creativity that surpassed anyone Alec had ever met before. Where Manticore had made so many of them hard… it made Joshua soft.

Not that he was ever likely to tell Joshua any of this.

But then again… he wouldn't be surprised if the guy already knew. He knew a lot more than even Alec gave him credit for.

Dean looked up at Alec, green eyes wide. The kid looked about ready for a panic attack, the scent of anxiety and fear filling the air around him. But on the outside, he looked almost calm—only that wide-eyed, weighted stare giving away his nerves.

Alec rubbed him on the top of the head, feeling soft bristly locks glide under his palm. It still managed to surprise him when Dean closed his eyes. Surprised him even more when the fear scent ebbed.

Did he really have to leave him? The kid was so quiet—he was sure he could sneak into the meetings no problem. Heck, just let him ride on Alec's back, clinging to him like the leech he was, and he'll just tell everyone that he discovered the secret to asexual reproduction.

Because that would go over so well.

Alec sighed, coming down to Dean's level in a crouch. They were standing in the hallway outside of Joshua's modest quarters. By modest, he meant big—but made significantly smaller by Joshua's paintings strewn all over. He could smell the oil from out here. He wondered how the big guy could stand it. Even with the open windows.

"You've seen Joshua around, yeah?" Alec ducked his head, catching the kid's gaze. "He's harmless, okay? He's not gonna hurt you."

Dean stared back at him, his gaze level and confident. It was the only time he ever saw Dean have that stare—when he looked at Alec. The transgenic could see the gears turning in the young boy's head.

Finally, the boy held up his arm, tapping first Alec's forehead, then holding it as far above him as it could go. And Alec couldn't help but chuckle.

"Yeah, the guy's big. But I swear, Dean—I trust him with my life."

In the end, the only thing Alec's convincing had bought him was complacency. Which wasn't hard at all to get from the kid. The fear was still there, hidden somewhere in the silence. The kid was terrified when they walked into the room, where Alec knew Joshua had been listening in. And holding himself back by the skin of his teeth.

It had gone about as well as Alec could have hoped. The fear scent was still strong when Alec had left—Dean staring after him with glistening eyes. But Joshua had reeled in his usual bluster, acting like he was a bull in a China shop, scared to death that he would break all of the little cups.

Dean hadn't spoken a word to Joshua. Not once. But when Alec came back, he found Dean sitting cross-legged on the floor, still dwarfed in one of Alec's hoodies. A thick book—one Alec assumed Josh had taken from Sandeman's old house—was draped open in the kid's lap, Dean studying it with an expression of pure awe while Joshua painted across the room.

The big fella had made sure Dean took the book with him—handing it over with a gentle hand even as Dean had stared at him in complete, suspicious confusion.

After that, he thought Dean would trust him enough to stay put when Joshua was around. Even if Alec wasn't.

But apparently not.

Alec ran his fingers through his hair, growling in frustration.

What if he had already left the city? They would never find him then. Or worse, what if those bastards had caught up to them? They would never be able to know where he went, or if he was still alive. Hell, even without those fuckers, there was plenty of scumbags in the street that would see Dean as an easy target.

But if they were having trouble finding Dean, surely the kid would be able to fend them off?

Damnit.

"Alec angry?"

Joshua's meek voice made the transgenic turn. They were down in the sewers—yet another double-back that was losing them time and distance. But he knew it wasn't Joshua's fault.

The shaggy-haired transgenic was staring at the hem of his shirt, the blue-gray light of the sewers making the man look almost small. Which was a feat.

Alec sighed. "I'm worried," he said, and he had to focus not to snap out the words. "What the hell is that kid thinking?"

"Joshua—Joshua and Alec keep looking?"

He shook his head, letting out a long breath. "Yeah…" he ran his fingers through his hair, "Why don't you head back, Josh? I'm gonna keep looking."

Hell, the guy looked like Alec had struck him. "Alec and Joshua look together?"

Alec shook his head. "No offense, Joshua, but I think we've given people enough opportunity to notice you for one day."

Joshua nodded, a soft growl coming from low in his throat. "Joshua sorry."

"Man… we've gone over this, okay? It's not your fault. I knew the kid was a flight risk from the start."

The man still looked like someone kicked his puppy, though. But right then, Alec didn't have time to deal with it.

"Go on, man—go home. I'll be back as soon as I find the kid."

"Alec call?"

"Yeah, I'll call. Soon as I find the kid."

That at least seemed to at least temporarily satisfy the dog-man. He could still catch the low keens coming out of the transhuman's throat, but they were all but inaudible.

Alec sighed as he turned away, towards the ladder leading up to the surface just ahead. It was time for a change in tactics.

It was dark outside of the sewers, the harsh artificial glow of streetlights the only break in the night. The side street in which he emerged was filthy—but then again how many of them weren't? Papers long forgotten were pasted, soggy, seeping into the asphalt. Neon signs flickered down the way, advertising a strip club and 'The Blue Cherry,' whatever that was.

Knowing this district of Seattle, it was probably a brothel.

Alec eased the sewer grate down with one arm, the weight not straining him in the slightest. He had a lot of places to look in a short span of time. And it was getting shorter every minute.

Tracking the scent wasn't getting them anywhere. All it was doing was making them run miles behind while the kid went on his merry way. At this point Dean could be putting direct distance between himself and Seattle and Alec would never know.

What the hell was he supposed to do with this kid?

Alec started down the alley, his figure highlighted by red and blue hues from the dim business lights. This was the roughest part of Seattle, or one of them at least. Most people didn't have a hope of getting out of it with their hands full. He was pretty sure this sector was in the middle of a mob-dispute—the enforcers filling the role of an annoying fly they had to swat away to keep up their feud. Not that the police cared much.

The bass tunes of some cyberpunk song grated out of a building as Alec strode past an all-night bar, the door open to spill a bunch of drunkards out into the street, beams of pulsing purple and blue lights flashing from inside, across the alley and flitting over Alec's form as he pulled up short. The group all barked with laughter, completely oblivious to their surroundings. They were leaning more and more heavily on each other as they went along, sinking further to the ground. It was only a matter of time before they collapsed all together.

He debated asking them if they saw a kid around. But the thought was dismissed almost as soon as he had it. Yes, he knew Dean had been here. It was the same alley through which Alec and Joshua had gone down into the sewers. The place in the city where Joshua had found Dean's scent to be the freshest. But the people were so drunk—and as one whiff of the chilly air confirmed, completely stoned—that anything they had to say would be useless.

Not to mention they would probably piss themselves.

So Alec kept walking. Sharp green eyes flitting with apparent laziness across the alley, even as pressure built more and more in his ribcage.

Was this how Max felt every time she had to bail him out of trouble?

Probably not.

Damn, the kid was going to drive him insane.

He kept looking, scanning in an increasing outward ring as he went through the sector. Garnering greedy looks from muggers and catcalls from the more skeevy crowd. It only served to amp his anxiety up further, even if the emotions were veiled behind a calm that always came over him on a job. But veiled or not, Alec was compromised. Badly. And he knew it.

Why did the kid have to go into the red light district of all places? Was he trying to build up a little pile of cash before he amscrayed?

The thought twisted Alec's stomach. Mainly because no matter how much he wanted to, he couldn't put it past the kid. Humans went back to what they knew. Even if it was a pile of slop so deep you had to wade through it, they always went back. And as much as Alec wanted to deny it, because he hadn't heard the words directly from the kid's mouth, he had seen too much evidence to ignore the possibility. But God, he hoped he was overreacting.

"I can be good."

"I get clothes?"

"I t-tried! I p-promise… I din't wanna let 'em."

"They w'n'd't s-stop… I j'st w-w'nt'd 'm t' st'p."

Alec didn't even realize his breathing had grown heavy until he pulled up short, closing his eyes. His fists clenched of their own accord, nails digging into the calloused skin of his palm. His shoulders lifted with every inhale, the air feeling hot entering his lungs despite the fact that he knew it was fucking freezing outside.

"'M s-so sorry."

Alec opened his eyes, the green orbs now near frantic when he picked up his pace again. He hadn't felt this way since…

Since Rachel.

Going through Berrisford's house like a wildfire was on his ass, flipping the security guard's off of their feet with the force of a single punch. He overheard Max talking about it to OC—when she described coming in during the aftermath. Heard when Max said it was like walking through the trail of a hurricane. How one of the men was laid up in the hospital, with a tube down his throat. How he would be there for weeks. From one punch.

If he could only get his hands on the people who had Dean. He would give them a lot more than one fuckin' punch.

He looked for hours. Alec was half-convinced the sun would rise before he found the kid. Maybe set again the next day. But that was when he saw three jackasses rifling through a small jacket. A damned familiar small jacket.

Red. It was all he could see.

"You're an idiot, Kent! There isn't hardly anything in here!" the one in the aged hoodie snapped. Completely oblivious to the figure coming towards them. They didn't see the transition from hate-fueled strides to an easy saunter. Which made them totally oblivious to the dangerous glint in the man's eye when he scuffed his boot on the asphalt. Drawing their attention.

"You got any game there?" Alec asked, a tight lid clamped on his emotions.

The hoodie guy, the obvious alpha—or so he thought—scoffed at him. "What're you, a cop?"

Alec shrugged, the movement fluid. He decided to let out a little more rope; "Nah. Just thinkin' that three numbskulls like yourselves… well, wouldn't a little tyke be a bit of a lightweight meal for you? I'm just a little surprised he got away."

Lead guy stared at him. Apparently the others were content to follow his lead, grinning like jackasses. Like Alec was the one about to get a beating.

"Man, you stepped in it now," one of them chuckled. And it was just then that Alec noticed the bruise blossoming over his eye.

If Dean didn't do that, he would dismantle his bike.

They spread out a little, shuffling their feet like it would make it seem a little more casual. Alec stayed relaxed.

"Let me make something clear," the leader huffed, "What I do to who comes into my territory is my business. What I did to the little guy—that's my business. What I'm gonna do to you—that's also my business."

Alec smirked. "So there was a little guy? Lemme guess—about yea high, skinny thing. Big eyes… freckles to die for."

That made them pause their flanking. Lead guy had a knot in his forehead. "How'd you know that?"

"Well," Alec stepped a little closer, the veil of shadow sliding back to illuminate his face in the neon red light. "You could say I have some things in common with the kid. Now—where did he go?"

If the transgenic needed any more confirmation that he was dealing with a bunch of idiots, he got it as soon as Lead started laughing.

"Oh, lookie here. Daddy's come out to play!" He shook his head, "But that's a bit naughty, isn't it? You'd have to be fucking around when you just got out of pull-ups. Then again…" he spread his arms, "with those lips your boy has I hope he follows in his father's footsteps."

They thought the guy was fuckin' hilarious. Laughing so hard the man almost dropped Dean's jacket.

They were still laughing when Alec started to move. They didn't stop, didn't realize the shit they had stepped in until the two goons were crumpled against the asphalt, out cold. The alpha didn't realize until he blinked, going from on his feet to on his stomach. The wetness of the asphalt soaking into his clothes. His shoulder screaming with pressure and his teeth aching from where they pressed against the curb.

Alec didn't breathe any heavier. The adrenaline in his veins pumped out at a steady rhythm, the heady energy almost intoxicating as he pinned the man to the ground.

"Let's try this again. Where did he go?"

The man groaned.

Alec slammed the heel of his palm into the man's head, curb stomping his teeth. His face didn't falter when he heard the crack. Or the man's scream.

He grabbed the man's hair, hiking up his head to whisper in the bastard's ear. Showing off his newly broken teeth, and the blood that flowed down his chin.

"Where did he go?"

"Wai' wai' wai'!" the man panted, tears streaming down his face. "I'll 'alk—us' 'lease!"

Alec relaxed his grip on the man's arm—just a little. Just enough to ease the pressure in his shoulder.

"'e r'n 'oward Bermin'am— 'ee lance 'ace. I d'n know any'ing e'se—I 'wear!"

The transgenic bent the man further back, bringing him even closer to the man's ear. So close he knew the man could feel hot breath grating against his skin.

"Did you touch him?"

He sobbed.

"Did you hurt him!" he roared. The man flinched.

"I 'ust 'cared 'm a lil! 'E 'as 'lippery… 'e 'ot 'way 'efore—"

Alec snapped the man's head down, slamming him into the concrete again. The man shrieked.

"Listen to me," Alec seethed in the man's ear, his face still smoldering calm even as the man shook in his hold, "If I ever see you in this city again—I will kill you. And when I find the kid—if I find out you laid a hand on him… I will track you down—and I will kill you."

The man nodded in his grip, face soaked with tears and mouth gaping to ease the pain of his shattered teeth.

Alec shoved him away, letting the man collapse on his side with a whimper as he straightened, standing over the man.

"Start running."

The guy scrambled to his feet like Alec had lit a fire under his ass, covering his ruined mouth with one hand as he half-ran, half-stumbled down the street. Leaving his goons behind.

The transgenic ignored all of them, picking up the damp jacket and running his fingers over it to check for damage. It was clean, if damp from hitting the ground. But the only damage were several ripped stitches at the shoulders. Probably from where Dean had slipped out of it to get away.

If Alec kicked one man in the stomach on the way past—well, no one would ever know.