I don't own Dark Angel or Supernatural, both belong to their respective owners, and I'm not making any profit.
Thanks eternal to my beta Moonbeam who should be given at least the title of co-author considering all the research I made her do, and all the input she gave for scenes I should add.
For the purposes of this fic, and all those that follow, the Transgenics left Seattle before they were discovered. Also, this is the set before Dead Man's Blood, so anything before that and Hello,Goodbye are fair game, spoiler-wise. A great many liberties were taken where it concerns folklore, but that's standard Supernatural fare anyway.
Convergence is set in the same universe as Corollary, though it's not necessary at all to have read it.
Convergence:
Dean ruffled his wet hair with a towel as he exited the rather grimy motel bathroom. He reached for his shrilly ringing phone, casting a glare at Sam as did so. His brother didn't even so much as look up from his research on the laptop. He furtively slid a now empty pill bottle into his jacket, which he'd flung onto his bed before taking a shower. He'd get rid of the bottle later, somewhere Sam wouldn't happen upon it by chance. Flipping the cell open he absently ran his fingers through his damp hair before deciding it was combed enough.
"Yeah?" he greeted inattentively as he went to read over Sam's shoulder. The only evidence showing that Sam was aware of Dean's presence at his shoulder was the slight tightening of his jaw.
"Alec," a familiar voice began. Dean immediately stepped away from Sam and re-entered the bathroom, locking the door behind him.
"Max," Dean said, surprised. It had been over three years since he'd last heard from her. Not since they'd left Seattle several years before. "Any particular reason you're calling or did you just miss me?"
"Not everyone is as in love with you as you are."
"You wound me Max, really."
"I was only calling to warn you, but I think I've changed my mind."
"You know you really love me."
"Look, I just wanted to tell you that someone or something is killing transgenics. So far it's stuck to those in town but it may spread to the base or further."
Dean's smile immediately disappeared and his eyes narrowed.
"What do you know so far?"
"Just that they've all died of blood loss."
"Disease or person?" Dean asked.
"We don't know yet," and Dean could hear her obvious worry. "There's been little indication at the scenes. There haven't been any wounds either, so we can't rule out disease."
"I'll look into it and let you know what I find."
"Alec," Max began, clearly exasperated. The whole point to her calling had been to warn him to stay away. "Don't be an idiot."
"Your faith in me is touching," he replied sarcastically before he flipped the phone closed. He unlocked the bathroom, ignoring Sam's curious look as he went straight for their father's journal.
"Dean?" Sam questioned as he stood. His brother's behaviour in the last few minutes had been unusual, even for Dean. Dean ignored him in favour of paging through the journal. "Dean, what's going on?"
"I got a tip on a job."
"What are we dealing with this time?"
Dean slammed the journal closed in frustration. Nothing sprang out at him, and he would need more information if he wanted to pin down exactly what it was that was killing transgenics. He moved to the drawers and began to take out his few changes of clothes and the assortment of weapons, ammunition and charms that he always kept with him.
"I'll be gone a few days, maybe a week."
"Dean, what are you talking about?"
"I want you to stay put. I don't want to have to go looking for you if you disappear on me."
"Dean," Sam tried again. He hovered on the other side of the bed, not entirely sure what he should do to stop Dean.
"Call me if you get into any trouble and I'll be back as soon as I can."
"No," Sam said firmly and Dean looked up for the first time.
"I don't have time to argue with you, Sam."
"There's no way I'm letting you go on a hunt alone."
"I'm not giving you a choice," Dean told him and he returned to haphazardly stuffing his things into his backpack.
"I'm not just going to let you leave, not like Dad did."
"I'll be fine, and I will be back in a few days."
"What about your seizures?" Sam asked, grasping at anything that would give his brother pause.
Dean tensed defensively. He knew Sam was going for broke, but it was still a little too close to home for his liking. Dean was aware that Sam was under the impression that his seizures were a lot worse than they actually were, especially when they were kids. John had used them as an excuse every time Manticore wanted him back for training and indoctrination. Sam's childhood was undoubtedly littered with absences where he thought his brother was in hospital and he wasn't allowed to see him because John kept moving them on. Later John had added the excuse that Dean was off hunting on his own, which was remarkably truthful when Manticore started sending him on missions.
Dean knew that John had only been complicit because he got to keep Dean. Had he fought to keep Dean away from them, Manticore would have come at John with everything they had and then he and Sam would likely be dead. Dean would have ended up back at Manticore anyway and there wouldn't be any relief between training exercises.
"It's been ages since the last one," he said, staring almost defiantly into Sam's eyes before looking away with the excuse of grabbing his backpack.
"All the more reason to be cautious," Sam replied, knowing that something wasn't quite right.
"This isn't up for discussion," Dean told him firmly. He slung his backpack over his shoulders and grabbed his keys before making his way out of the room. Moments later Sam heard the impala drive off.
"You've got to be kidding if you think I'm going to twiddle my thumbs for a week," Sam muttered. He grabbed his own backpack and began to shove his things into it. The faster he was out of there the faster he could be on Dean's trail.
Almost a day later and Dean arrived outside of the abandoned army base that the transgenics called home. When Seattle had gotten too hot to stick around with the rumours and increased sightings of mutants they'd had to find somewhere new to stay, somewhere where they'd be left in peace. It was Logan who had finally stumbled onto records of the base in Idaho, several miles outside the small town of Sinclair. Now it was a refuge for all transgenics – X-series, psyops, nomlies – they all gathered there. Several of the younger transgenics had christened it Backend-of-Nowhere, Idaho.
As he climbed out of the car Dean reminded himself to get a relatively solid meal when he got into town. He'd forgone stopping to eat, instead relying on his dwindling supply of junk food, so that he could get to the base as quickly as possible. The transgenics wouldn't know how to fight whatever it was they were facing and he wasn't going to wait for there to be another body.
Dean made his way over to the entrance and knocked loudly. After several moments a slot opened in the door and two brown eyes looked out.
"What's your business here?" a girl asked brusquely.
"I'm here to see Max."
"And you are?"
"Alec."
"What is your designation?"
"X5-494."
"He's good, let him in," a male voice said.
Finally the door opened and a girl of about eighteen stood, aiming a gun at him. Behind her Dean could see a slightly older boy. After taking a look around to make sure that Dean wasn't a threat and that he hadn't been followed she stepped to the side and let him enter.
"Max is on level 12," the boy informed him.
"Thanks," Dean replied as he made his way to the elevator. Making a mental note to pick up some tryptophan somewhere in town he raised a hand to rub tiredly at his eyes before dropping it abortively to his side. He visibly straightened in a gesture that was more to convince himself that he was wide awake and aware than anything else.
By the time the doors opened Dean was feeling markedly more stable. He made his way down a hallway, cocking his head when he caught Max's voice. He followed it into a large room filled with data on the familiars and several in particular, as well as Manticore and what they'd been able to dig up on that so far. He leaned against the door in what appeared to be a casual pose and smirked amusedly as he waited for Max to turn around.
"494," Dean heard someone call in greeting. He turned to see Zack's twin give him a nod in greeting.
"600," he replied.
"It's Gabe now."
"Alec."
"As in smart alec," Max said as she walked up to them. Gabe grinned as she approached then noticed the glare she sent Alec and the defiant smirk Alec gave in return.
"I think I'll go see how Zane's doing with that new car we got in yesterday," he commented before quickly beating a retreat.
"What are you doing here? We've got enough trouble as it is."
"If I didn't know any better I'd think you weren't happy to see me."
"The whole point of warning you was so that you'd stay away."
"Honestly, I might start to think you don't want me here."
"I have enough to worry about with transgenics dying. I don't need to add more of us into the mix."
"I'm just here to lend a hand, maybe add a perspective you hadn't thought about."
"You mean the criminal mastermind perspective?" she asked sarcastically.
"That's the one," Dean said as he took a casual look around. "So where's Logan?"
"He has a place in town." Max wasn't entirely sure what to make of the almost disappointed expression Alec got before it was replaced by his easy smile.
"So you finally work the virus thing out then?"
"No," was all Max said and Dean decided not to chance his luck by pushing her. "We're handling this Alec. We don't need your help."
"Of course," Dean said with a smirk, "Super Max doesn't need any help. Look, I'll be staying in town for a few days, call me if you decide you need some help after all."
Dean turned before Max could reply and made his way back to the elevator. He pressed the heel of his hand into his eye, trying to ease his headache. Sometimes Max just brought out the worst in him.
Dean slotted the key to the motel room into the lock. He stopped only long enough to conceal his knife under his pillow before he collapsed into bed.
He was jerked out of the light doze he'd already fallen into by a soft rustle of clothes and the lights being turned on. His knife was already in his hand, his eyes automatically adjusting, as he jumped out of bed.
"Getting sloppy, Dean," Sam said. "Honestly, you take so much looking after."
"What the hell are you doing here?" Dean demanded, belatedly returning the knife to under his pillow. "I told you to stay behind."
"You're the one who keeps going on about how we should stick together as a family."
"That's different."
"How can it possibly be different?" Sam asked angrily.
"It just is."
"You're just like Dad," Sam accused. "You can't just split when you feel like it and you can't treat me like a little kid who has to stay behind because it's safer."
"You don't know anything about it," Dean ground out.
"Then why don't you tell me," Sam all but yelled.
"You aren't getting involved in this."
"I'm not a child. I can handle it. We've handled dangerous things before."
"Not like this. It's not just about keeping you safe, Sam."
"Then what is it about?"
"It's not important," Dean finally said. How was he supposed to tell Sam what he was? That he wasn't even really human? That the only reason he'd even ended up with the Winchesters was because while working with him Mary had bonded with him and Manticore needed a spy? Dean still didn't know what was so important about John that Manticore had wanted to keep an eye on him. Regardless, Sam knew where he was now and he couldn't very well leave. Not that he hadn't briefly considered it. Still, he was going to have to keep Sam well out of the way. "Look, why don't you do some research at the library or something tomorrow."
"What are you going to do?" Sam asked. Worry was starting to worm its way in as he noticed the strained look to Dean's features.
"I'll do the interviews."
"Are you sure you don't need me along for that," Sam asked carefully. He knew that in some cases certain people were more likely to open up to him than Dean.
"This isn't negotiable Sam," Dean replied firmly as he sat down on the bed to at least pull off his shoes and take off his jacket this time.
"Fine, what am I looking for then?"
"Something that drains bodies of blood without leaving a trace."
"Alright, I'll get on that in the morning. By the way, you could have at least gotten a room with two beds," he added as Dean lay down.
"I wasn't expecting company. Oh, and turn out the lights." Moments later the lights were out and all Dean could hear was Sam shuffling around a little before the bed dipped next to him.
"Move over, will you. There's no way I'm sleeping in that chair."
Dean complied with a number of tiredly muttered expletives as Sam settled beside him. Finally he dropped off to sleep.
Dean woke to the sensation of falling. He landed with a grunt that was more surprised than pained as he tried to recall if there'd been a party or something last night. Untangling himself from the sheet Dean glanced briefly around the room from his position on the floor. There was no sign of Sam, but at least he remembered why he'd been perched precariously on the edge of the bed. Sam really did like to hog the bed. Dean blamed all those gangly limbs.
A glance at his watch showed him that it was almost midday, which would explain Sam's absence. What he couldn't understand was why Sam hadn't woken him, or for that matter, why he hadn't woken instinctively when Sam had begun to get ready. He must've been more tired than he thought. Dean slowly pulled himself to his feet.
He rubbed the back of his neck to ease the tension in the muscles there as he made his way to the bathroom. He still had interviews to take care of. A long shower later, he definitely deserved taking the time to pamper himself, and he felt ready to deal with whatever the day would throw at him.
He was back at the base an hour later and being led to a group of transgenics who were friends with the victims, and who had been with them the nights that they died. When he'd arrived Gabe had happened upon him and had welcomed his help and even given him the names of the victims and offered to gather together those who knew them. Dean had readily agreed since it would only make his job easier.
As the lift made its way to the desired level Dean remembered that he'd intended to stock up on tryptophan last night. Drinking milk was just not his thing. He reminded himself once again to get some when he was in town again. He followed the X6 who was acting as a guide for him to the appointed room and entered without knocking. At a glance Dean could tell that most of the room's 12 occupants were X6s and X7s, but there were a few X5s.
He took particular note of how, despite almost four years since the destruction of Manticore, they stiffened instinctively, wanting to snap to attention, when he entered the room. He leaned casually against the wall and looked the other transgenics over.
"So you're supposed to be investigating how they died?" one of the X5s asked and the others looked sceptical.
"That's the general idea," Dean replied easily.
"Isn't that what Max and Gabe are doing?" one of the X7s asked.
"Just thought I'd lend a hand," he said with a charming smile. Several of the girls smiled back tentatively. "Were any of…" Dean paused before he could call them victims, "your friends acting strangely before it happened?" he asked, getting down to business.
An X6 raised an eyebrow.
"What do you mean by strangely?" she asked.
"Short tempered, disoriented, that sort of thing."
"Hal was moody," an X7 told him, "but then he usually acted like he was PMSing."
"And Roy spent almost 24 hours without coffee because of the shortage, so he was disoriented anyway."
One of the boys rolled his eyes.
"There wasn't anything unusual about their behaviour," he answered promptly.
"Have you noticed anyone in particular hanging around?" Dean asked next. Most of the transgenics shook their heads.
"Not unless you count Isa," an X7 said with a smirk. Several of them laughed while others looked on disapprovingly.
"Isa?" Dean asked.
"X8. She took to following Will around. He was mortified, but everyone else thought it was hilarious."
"Alright then," Dean said, deciding to wrap the interview up. "What were you doing on the nights that it happened?"
"We were at Elixir," one of the girls said, including two others with a gesture.
"Same," an X7 said. Another X& next to him nodded as well.
"The four of us hung out at Abbott's bar with Jon and Dan. We were there toasting to Jon on the night Dan died," one of the X5s told him.
"Firebrand," one of the last three answered concisely. The other two nodded as well.
"Did you notice them leave with anybody?"
Most of the transgenics shook their heads.
"I remember Shep leaving, but I can't remember who with," one of the X6s answered, then gave him a sheepish smile. "He tended to leave with someone different every time we went to Elixir."
Dean nodded as he pushed off the wall.
"That'll be all for now. I'll come find you if I have anymore questions," he said before leaving the room.
As Dean was leaving the base his phone rang, he glanced at the number before flipping it open.
"What have you got?"
"A few possibilities. Vampires, but Dad's never mentioned that those are anything more than myth, jiang shi,kanshi, soucriantglaistag, and leanan-sidhe. Just about every culture has a myth about creatures that drink blood."
"So we have to narrow it down somehow."
"I also looked into police records for the last 150 years. There have been similar murders occurring about once a year with gaps every twenty years or so, nothing really consistent."
"See if you can find someone who's interested in local history and find out any legends that are significant. Also see if there's a record of any families going that far back."
"I'm already on my way," Sam replied, and Dean could hear the smirk in his voice. "One of the local bar owners, Simon Abbott, is apparently well known around here for his interest in local history. He runs FUBAR. He's ex-army apparently."
"I'll meet you there in an hour and a half."
Dean had been to two drugstores and both had been sold out of tryptophan. After the Pulse the majority of small towns had recovered quickly because they were less reliant on technology, but there was still a problem with getting adequate supplies on time or at all. Which meant he'd spent over two days without tryptophan and longer without a decent meal. A seizure was undoubtedly imminent at this point. Now all he had to do was go see Sam to make sure he didn't worry and then disappear somewhere for the night. In the morning he'd tell Sam that he hooked up with some pretty girl. Maybe he'd go with the name Nicole this time, Nicky was better though, or Stacey was always good.
After a moment, when he was sure he could handle a quick conversation with Sam without giving anything away, he got out of the car and made his way into the pub. He spotted Sam seated at the bar before his path was blocked by a blonde woman in a flowing green dress.
"How about I buy you a drink?" she asked as she leaned forward, resting her hand lightly on his arm. Dean smiled charmingly despite how miserable he was feeling. Any other night and he wouldn't mind taking her up on her offer.
"How about a rain check, beautiful?" he offered.
"I'll hold you to that," she replied, her touch lingering. Dean made his way over to where his brother was sitting. Sam looked up and smiled in greeting. Dean dredged a smile up in return as he went to sit beside his brother.
"I was about to call out a search party," Sam told him with an amused smile.
"There was traffic on the way back," Dean replied curtly. Sam looked surprised for a moment before he frowned worriedly.
"Maybe we should go back to the room and continue there."
Dean rolled his eyes.
"Just tell me what you've got so far."
"There's a local legend about a witch who lived in the forest around the lake. Apparently she used to seduce men by dancing with them and then kill them, without leaving a trace."
"The hit and run of the spirit world."
"I also had to listen to an hour long account of the town's oldest families. You so owe me."
"Alec!" Gabe called from the doorway and Dean instinctively turned at the sound of his other name. In the doorway stood Max, Gabe, Logan and Original Cindy. Gabe waved and Logan smiled warmly in greeting.
"Hey Dean, is there any particular reason he called you Alec?" Sam asked softly as he leaned forward, watching the group move closer. If Dean was using a fake name he would have preferred to know before being put on the spot.
Dean winced knowing that Max and Gabe, with their enhanced senses, were likely to have heard the question.
"Maybe it is time to head back to the motel," Dean said as he stood. The group had almost reached them.
"Who's the toy-boy?" Original Cindy asked as she looked Sam over curiously.
"Look guys, I have to bounce. Have to be up early to fight the good fight and all that," he told them as he made his way around the group. Max hurried after him and grabbed his arm once they were outside.
"Dean?" Max asked archly, while Gabe looked a little confused. Dean saw her expression and rolled his eyes.
"Can we argue about this in the morning? Not all of us can go without sleep."
"He's an ordinary Alec, he doesn't know what he's getting himself into."
"Sam can take care of himself."
"Well that's a first," Sam muttered, though he smirked when Dean glared at him. Logan, Gabe and Original Cindy exited the bar as well, but stood to the side, watching curiously. They all knew better than to interrupt a fight between Max and Alec.
"He hasn't had our training, and he definitely doesn't have our perks."
"Dean, what's she talking about?" Sam asked. As far as Sam knew the only training Dean had had was with Dad and Sam certainly didn't recognise her. Sam couldn't stand the thought that Dean had had an entire part of his life that he wasn't aware of. Suddenly he felt guilty, because that was precisely what he'd wanted when he'd gone to college.
"You mean he doesn't even know? We're supposed to be keeping on the DL. We don't even know this guy. If he flips we're screwed." Max couldn't believe that Alec, who always put himself above everything else, was travelling with an ordinary who could expose them as soon as he found out the truth.
"Sam wouldn't do that," Dean snarled. Max was a little surprised by his vehemence.
"Max, you're my boo and I know Alec hasn't always been straight up, but maybe we should give him the benefit of the doubt until Logan can check this Sam guy out," Original Cindy suggested. Max glanced briefly at her before turning back to Dean.
"Then why haven't you told him?"
Dean turned away from her piercing look. Sam looked from Dean to Max and back again. Slowly his expression changed to one of dawning realisation.
"Whatever this is, Dad knows doesn't he?"
"Sammy, now is not the time," Dean told him, his expression closed off.
"And when would be the time? The time when you're avoiding the topic or the time when you're sulking in the car listening to mullet rock?"
"The time when you're not pissing me off."
"He knows. He knows and you've been keeping this from me," Sam said accusingly.
"Yes," Dean finally conceded, just wanting to end this so he could get out of there. "Dad and I deliberately kept it from you because we didn't think you should know."
"For how long? Ten years? Fifteen? My whole life?"
"Fifteen years?" Max asked, trying to work out just how much crap Alec had gotten them into this time. "He's not from Manticore."
"Manticore?" Sam asked.
Dean turned to Sam, studying his features. Maybe he could finally know for sure. Maybe he could look at Sam without seeing him getting on that bus to Stanford. Maybe he could look at him without seeing Sam poised above him repeatedly pulling the trigger.
"Manticore is a secret government organisation that dabbled in genetic engineering," Dean answered. "You know those stories that have been in the tabloids about mutants running rampant? Well, I'm a hybrid with DNA from all over the place. When I say I'm a freak, I mean it."
"I don't understand…" Sam began.
"Mary and John adopted me as part of a long term Manticore experiment."
"So you're not my brother?" Sam asked dazedly.
Dean flinched but made no reply. That was answer enough for him. His hands were shaking but he wasn't entirely sure if it was because of the oncoming seizure or the myriad emotions he refused to acknowledge. He had to get away.
"I'll be back in the morning." With that he turned and walked away, disappearing around a corner.
"Don't," Logan said when both Sam and Max made to go after him. "I'll go."
Max looked sharply up at him in confusion and Sam looked ready to protest.
"Logan…" she began.
"Alec and I got to be reasonably good friends, and I don't think he'd find my presence abrasive at the moment."
Both Max and Sam backed off, knowing what Dean could be like when he was moody. There was just no talking to him.
Logan started his car and drove around the corner after Dean. He could only hope that Dean hadn't gotten too far. What he discovered surprised him. Dean was slumped in an alley, gripped in the clutches of a seizure. Logan immediately stopped the car and jumped out. He knelt down next to Dean and rested a hand on his shoulder.
"Alec," he said and waited for Dean to raise his head. "I'm going to help you to the car, alright?"
"Leave me the fuck alone," Dean snarled as he tried to push himself up, grabbing Logan's arm for leverage.
"Damnit Alec, will you just let someone help you for once."
"I don't need your help," Dean said, though his grip on Logan's arm belied his words.
"What happened?" Logan asked as he drew a barely resisting Dean up with him.
"Ran out of pills," he murmured as he leaned heavily on Logan for support.
Logan pulled Dean closer to him as he led him to the car. "I've got a supply at home. It won't take us long to get there. Can you wait that long?"
"Been worse before," he replied and then was silent as Logan manoeuvred him into the passenger seat. Twenty minutes later Dean was resting on Logan's couch having just taken two pills. His shakes had stilled some, but were not completely gone. Logan re-entered the room holding a glass of milk. Dean looked at him scornfully but drank it down anyway.
"Why don't you get some sleep," Logan suggested as he ran his fingers through Dean's hair. Dean snuggled into the pillow.
"That sounds like a good idea," he mumbled and Logan smiled fondly.
Dean looked up at Logan's cheerful face through narrowed eyes.
"You're a sadist," he told the smiling man as he yawned. It was far too early to be up and about. Logan handed him another pill, to reinforce the effect of the two the previous night, which Dean took without complaint. For the first time in days he felt like he was finally on an even keel.
"I've got breakfast ready." At Dean's curious look he added, "Pancakes."
"Can I keep you?" Dean asked with a playful smile. Logan snorted.
"Only when I'm not saving the world," he replied sardonically. They smiled at each other for a long moment before Dean looked away, leaping suddenly off the couch. He went several steps before stopping in his tracks.
"You gonna feed me or what?"
Logan awkwardly cleared his throat and led the way to the kitchen where he began to dish out the food. Dean groaned as he came up behind Logan and Logan froze. To him it felt as though the sound had resonated through him.
"God that smells good. I can't remember the last time I ate."
"I hope it lives up to expectations," Logan replied as he was jolted into action once more. He handed Dean a plate, then poured some juice, which he placed in front of Dean at the table. Dean gave Logan a disgusted look as he took a bite of pancake.
"Where's my coffee?" he demanded. Logan simply pushed the glass further towards him.
"Max usually takes a day or two to recover fully from the bad episodes."
Dean sobered immediately at the mention of Max.
"Of course," he answered, reluctantly recalling the fight he'd had with both Sam and Max before Logan had dragged him to his place. He'd be surprised if either would be willing to talk to him now.
"What was the experiment?" Logan asked softly.
"They wanted to determine the effects of long term exposure to the outside world on loyalty to Manticore, the strength of their brainwashing and whatever else they decided to throw my way. Got a little more than they bargained for," Dean replied dispassionately before he shrugged. As a result of his extended time away from Manticore Dean had changed in ways that Manticore certainly didn't appreciate. A soldier who argued during a mission then fell apart when it was successful was not what they wanted at all. His time with Sammy, and considerably shorter time with Mary, had changed him irrevocably. Changed him in ways that sometimes scared him. Because if he couldn't be a good soldier, the soldier he was built to be, then what was he? That's why he was so adamant about following John's orders. John loved him, Dean knew that, but John treated him like a soldier. Not because it was what he did, but because it was who he was. It was something Sam had never been able to understand.
Of course, the experiment wasn't the only reason Manticore had sent him, but it was their cover. Despite the fact that he trusted Logan Dean didn't think he'd be ready anytime soon to tell him that for over ten years he'd spied on the man he considered a father. That things had almost gone horribly wrong before he'd been forced to admit the true purpose of his presence to John.
Logan immediately regretted asking the question when Dean pushed his mostly untouched plate away from him and stood.
"I could really use a shower," Dean said as he stepped away from the table. "Wouldn't happen to have a steam shower would you?" he asked hopefully. Logan shook his head and Dean sighed. "Well it was worth a try."
Dean paused in the doorway and turned to look back at Logan, his expression intense.
"Max said that the virus was still active."
"Yes. We haven't managed to find a cure."
"And you've stopped looking?" Dean asked. He was curious to know just how significant the absence of a "yet" in Logan's statement was.
"Sometimes when you get your hopes up too many times and nothing comes of it you stop hoping at all," Logan replied with a shrug.
"I assume that by "you" you mean Max." Dean knew that Logan hadn't given up the dream that he would walk on his own again until it had come true. There was no reason to think that the situation with the virus was any different. Logan's wan smile was his only answer.
"I'll get you a clean towel," Logan said. He gave Dean a brief once over. "And some spare clothes and toiletries."
Dean came out of the bathroom wearing his own faded blue jeans, Logan's slacks had simply been too big without a belt and his jeans were clean enough. He had accepted one of Logan's white T-shirts though, which while form hugging on Logan was a little loose on him. Still, it was clean and that was enough for Dean.
He made his way back to the kitchen, intent on getting some coffee while Logan thought he was still in the bathroom. The sound of voices drew him instead down the left passage rather than the right. He paused just outside the door to the lounge when he heard Max's voice.
"We have to do something about this," she said and Dean could just imagine her pacing across the room.
"We're doing everything we can," Logan told her.
"Well it's not good enough!"
"Max, we can't do anything more until we get some solid leads."
"You're right, I'm sorry. It's just that with Dex last night…" she trailed off tiredly. Dean took that moment to enter the room.
"I want to see the body."
"Alec," Max said, with a curious mixture of annoyance and relief.
"Why do you need to see the body?" Logan asked. Dean shrugged casually.
"I might see something that you missed."
"Alec, we've been over the bodies before. You're not going to see anything we haven't," Max told him.
"What'll it hurt? The murders are increasing in frequency. The only certainty I can see is that there'll be more."
"Since when did you become an ME?" Max snapped.
Dean shrugged nonchalantly.
"Sam and I just tend to make this sort of thing our business."
"Come on," Logan said, to forestall any argument between the two X5s. He grabbed his keys and coat. "The local ME is part of the InformantNet so he'll let us take a look."
The car ride was entirely too quiet for Dean's liking. Max had automatically taken the front passenger seat. Not that Dean minded. It gave him the opportunity to stretch out on the back seat. However it did mean that conversation was a little awkward since he and Max were still tense around each other and he wasn't willing to talk to Logan with Max there. He always had a habit of admitting more than he meant to when it came to conversations with Logan. Max's own attempts at conversation with Logan hadn't gone that well either. He seemed distracted.
Once they had arrived at the ME's Logan automatically fell into step beside Dean. Dean was sure that Logan just wanted to make sure that nothing would happen after last night, but he couldn't help but appreciate the disgruntled look on Max's face.
When they entered the office the ME seemed to be expecting them because he looked up, his expression resigned. Logan took him to one side and after a few short words returned with a smile.
"Dr. Prescott has agreed to let us see the body. We can have a chat with Agent Watson while we're there."
"Agent Watson?" Max asked.
"Apparently the FBI has taken an interest in the case."
"Well this should be interesting," Dean commented as he and the others went down the stairs to the morgue. When Logan pushed the swing doors open and Dean got a good look at Agent Watson he couldn't help the brief flare of amusement at Sam's choice of disguise. Sam looked up at their entrance and a guilty blush stained his features.
"Dean," he said taking several steps forward before hesitating and hovering nervously. "About last night – "
"You get anything?" Dean asked, cutting Sam off as he gestured towards the body. Sam gave a resigned sigh but nodded his head.
"I've managed to eliminate all but one of the possibilities."
"Let's have it."
"A jiang shi, kanshi and soucriant would all leave marks, which the victim doesn't have. A leanan-sidhe targets poets and artists, which only leaves the glaistag."
"Glaistag it is then," Dean said. He leaned over Sam's shoulder as Sam paged through the journal.
"What does Da… the journal say about the glaistag?" Dean asked Sam, not wanting to remind him of the argument from the night before.
"Dad," Sam replied with emphasis, "says that they aren't traditional spirits. They're fairies, so that means that the typical rock salt won't have any effect."
"Beyond pissing it off."
"Fairies?" Max asked incredulously. Logan didn't seem far behind her in questioning their sanity.
"Yep, and not the flamboyant, happy type either," Dean told them. He turned back to Sam. "Sanctified iron bullets should do the trick."
"Do we have any?"
"We haven't needed them in a while, but there should be some left in the trunk. The only question is where to find it."
"Well, she's a water fairy, and the legend does say that the witch lives in the woods around the lake."
Dean pointed to about half way down the page.
"Says here it's fond of young children and old people."
Sam straightened immediately and slammed the journal shut.
"I know who she is," he declared. "Abbott told me about the Dolan family. The house is very isolated. It's quite a ways out into the woods. The thing is that no one's ever really seen it, or the entire Dolan family. Every now and then a member of the family would come into town, but it's only ever been one daughter every other generation for the last 150 years. Apparently it was quite a source of gossip when Niamh Dolan took on the job of a teacher at the local primary school. I think the glaistag lives on the property and pretends to be her own descendents."
"Maybe we should pay Niamh a visit," Dean replied with a feral grin.
Max and Logan met Dean and Sam outside the Dolan house once the brothers had gathered the necessary supplies. The house looked as though it hadn't been lived in in all the 150 years it had belonged to the Dolans. Dean and Sam exchanged glances.
"Lake?" Sam asked.
"Lake," Dean agreed.
They moved around the house, Max keeping up with them and Logan trailing behind. She and Logan may not have believed them, but they weren't about to let Dean and Sam get themselves killed.
Some distance from the house they came to a small clearing edged on one side by the lake. As they watched the water began to ripple and a beautiful blond woman began to rise out of the water and approach the shore.
"Well, this is a surprise," Niamh said as she stepped out of the water, her green dress clinging to her. "Come to take me up on that offer?" she asked Dean.
"Shall we dance?" Dean asked as he raised his rifle.
"Let's," she replied, lunging at him faster than the average person could track. He twisted out of the way, but she managed to knock the gun out of his hands. She then grabbed him by the throat and threw him across the clearing and into a tree. He fell to the ground with a pained grunt and wondered if perhaps he should have waited another day.
"Dean!" Sam called, keeping his eyes on Niamh, even as he resisted the urge to rush to Dean's side.
"Shoot her," Dean commanded as he sat up slowly, managing just barely to suppress a wince. Sam nodded, raising his own gun and fired. Niamh twisted out of the way of the bullet, her form rippling as she moved. When she was still once again her long blonde hair hung in locks, matted with reeds and what looked like some kind of mould. Her features were contorted and abnormally large green eyes, without pupils, and a mouth with row upon row of sharp teeth dominated her face. Her fingers ended in claws and beneath the hem of her dress Sam could just make out hooves.
She gave an unearthly cry that sent chills down his spine and ran at him. Sam shot once more, but it barely slowed her down. He was saved when Max ran at her from the side, knocking Niamh off her path. They toppled to the ground, and grappled before the glaistag finally pinned Max to the ground.
"I usually prefer males, but your kind taste delicious. Almost addictive," the glaistag murmured as she leaned closer.
A number of shots rang out, all hitting the mark, and the glaistag howled in pain before collapsing. Max pushed her off with a distasteful grimace. Logan stood at the other end of the clearing with Dean's gun in his hand. He lowered it slowly, still looking shocked.
"So… glaistag," he commented finally.
Dean snorted as Sam helped him to his feet. Max crouched over the body and brushed the tangled locks to the side so she could get a better look at the creature's neck.
"There's no barcode," she said to which Dean rolled his eyes.
"Fairy. I thought we explained this part already." He turned to Sam. "You got the gasoline?"
Sam nodded and pulled it from his bag before he doused the body in it. Dean leaned heavily against the tree he'd been thrown against as he tossed Sam a box of matches. Sam lit one, throwing it onto the body, and Dean was forced to briefly narrow his eyes against the glare of the fire. After several moments he pushed away from the tree and began to make his way back around the house.
"I could really use a drink," he commented as first Sam, then Max and lastly Logan followed. Max and Logan were unusually quiet as they contemplated events.
"So you do this often?" Max asked once they reached the cars.
"Pretty much," Dean replied.
"It's the family business," Sam told her, as he glanced covertly in Dean's direction. His brother seemed to be ignoring him, however, and Sam could only wonder what he could do to make it up to Dean. Suddenly he pulled a knife from his pocket and dragged the blade across his palm.
Dean, who'd been keeping an eye on Sam, which he didn't think he'd ever stop doing, leapt forward to stem the bleeding.
"Are you an idiot?" he growled, pressing hard against the cut. Sam ignored him, and instead took one of Dean's hands in his own and sliced his palm as well. He then gripped his brother's hand in his and made sure to catch Dean's eye.
"We're brothers," he said firmly. "Nothing will change that."
"What have I told you about chick flick moments?" Dean asked irritably as he rolled his eyes. "You're such a girl, Sammy."
Sam grinned, ignoring the tone, because his brother was smiling, and wasn't letting go of his hand and he figured things would be alright. Sam looked dubiously at his hand.
"I'm not going to catch anything, am I?" he asked and Dean let go, but he was still smiling so Sam figured he hadn't messed up.
"Dude, I'm the finely crafted weapon here. I should be worried about catching something from you."
Max snorted and grabbed the first aid kit. She threw one set of bandages to Logan who approached Dean and she went to patch Sam up. Honestly, she thought, men could be such idiots sometimes.
Logan took Dean's hand in his own and began cleaning away the blood before he began to bandage it. When he finally looked up Dean was watching him intently and he cleared his throat nervously. Dean was about to pull away when Logan tightened his grip on Dean's hand.
"I made the mistake of dancing around the topic for too long and losing everything once, I won't do that again," he said as he pulled Dean closer.
Dean was still looking at him in surprise when he felt Logan's lips cover his own. He briefly wondered how on earth he was going to explain this to Sam before deciding that he didn't really care. He raised his good hand and held the back of Logan's head, loving the soft feel of his hair. He deepened the kiss and when Logan groaned he had to bite back one of his own. Finally they pulled apart and Dean instantly stepped back.
"Look, Logan – " he began, but paused when Logan simply smiled affectionately at him.
"Take care of yourself, Alec," Logan said, and he slipped a bottle of tryptophan into Dean's pocket. Dean smiled roguishly then, because Logan wasn't expecting anything from him that he wasn't ready to give.
"I'll keep in touch."
"You do that," Logan replied amicably.
Dean turned to see Sam staring at him with an expression that promised lots of mocking for the next few weeks and Dean grinned at the challenge.
"Come on Sammy, let's hit the road."
"Sure you don't want to stay a few days, catch up with old friends?" Sam asked with an exaggeratedly suggestive smile.
"Hey Max," Dean called over his shoulder. "Say bye to Gabe for me."
"Good riddance," Max replied good-naturedly. Dean slid into the passenger seat without complaint because he still wasn't at 100 percent and being thrown into a tree really didn't help. He was grateful when Sam didn't question him, but rolled his eyes at the concerned look he got.
"Hurry up. We've got to get the rest of our things and pay up at the motel before we can head out of town," he said as he slipped one of his tapes into the tape player. He leant back in his seat and sighed contentedly as Metallica blared from the speakers. He certainly didn't envy Logan the fallout he was going to have to deal with.
"Alec?" Max asked Logan incredulously once the car was a reasonable distance away.
"Alec," Logan replied evenly, though a guilty flush spread across his features. He winced at Max's flinty glare. "Look, I meant to tell you. Really. It just never seemed like the right time."
"And that," she said with a vague gesture to where Logan and Alec had been standing, "is how you decided to break it to me?"
Logan gave a weary sigh and rubbed tiredly at his eyes. This was just a new angle to an argument they'd been having for four years.
"What do you want from me?"
Max looked taken aback.
"I just want the truth."
"You were the one who broke it off, Max. You were the one who thought it would be better if we weren't together anymore."
"I was just trying to protect you."
"I never asked you to. I didn't want you to. The virus… we should have dealt with it together."
"I couldn't just watch… You almost died! More times than I care to think about."
"But it was my decision to make. You never even gave me a chance. And then you stopped trying all together."
"I just couldn't take the false hope anymore. I couldn't look at you and want so much more when there wasn't ever going to be anything more."
"So you gave up?" His voice was soft, and laced with old hurt, but he was surprised to find that the memory of it wasn't as painful as it had once been.
"We can never go back, can we?" Max asked quietly, the fight drained from her.
"No," Logan agreed. They looked at each other for a long moment wondering how it had come to this.
"Do you love him?" she asked eventually.
"I…" Logan looked at her earnest expression and hesitated before looking away from her. That was the question he'd been dreading, because he had loved Max, still loved her in many ways. Just not in the ways that mattered, not for this. "There're feelings there, between me and Alec, that I'd like the chance to explore.
Max was silent for a long moment before she looked him square in the eye. Her mouth was curved in a smirk but her eyes were resigned and Logan wished he'd found a better way to tell her about Alec. He naively hoped that that would have made a difference.
"You hurt him," Max said finally, "and I'm taking away your computer access." She then turned and strode back towards the car. Logan smiled slightly as he followed her because Max was tough and she always landed on her feet.
Fin.