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Artwork courtesy of Valjean & JensenAcklesFans.com

A Piece of Meat
By Valjean

*****

“I told you we shouldn’t have tried to run a credit card scam in this small of a town,” Sam scolded. “I told you we’d used that I.D. too many times this month and that a flag was gonna show up in the system.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Dean drawled from where he lay reclining, one arm behind his head, on the bunk on the other side of the jail cell the two brothers were sharing. “Well it ain’t like the local yokels are gonna lock our asses up for long,“ he said, rubbing the dark blond beard stubble on his chin. It’s a misdemeanor, Sammy. So they cut up the card. It’s not like we don’t have a spare. Dad and I always kept an emergency one just in case. We’ll pay our fine and be on our merry way before the end of the day.”

“We should have made a run for it,” Sam grumped, slouching on his own cot and glaring at his older sibling.

“Oh, and that would have been real smart,” Dean shot back. “We’d have run, they’d have chased us, and then it would’ve been fleeing the scene and maybe resisting arrest. Not exactly easy charges to talk our way out of. Besides,” he added, “there were four of ‘em ... with guns in case you didn’t notice. The way to beat the house is to know how to play the odds, Sammy, and those weren’t good odds.”

“Do you think they’ll find out our real identities?” Sam asked, still in a bad mood.

Dean glanced over at him. “Don’t see how. Dad and I haven’t exactly left an easy trail to follow. I don’t think either one of us are in any data storage bank. How ‘bout you?”

Sam shrugged. “I’ve never been fingerprinted,” he admitted.

“There you go,” Dean said cheerfully. “All we hafta do is wait until our records come up clean and then we’ll apologize profusely, pay the damages with our emergency cash, and be outta here.”

There was the sound of rattling keys, and the two young men looked up expectantly as the sheriff came through the cell block door. The obese man -- his stomach overlapping his belt to a degree that looked extremely uncomfortable and jowls quivering -- stopped outside the bars and regarded his prisoners quizzically through piggish eyes.

“Yes, officer?” Dean inquired innocently, not bothering to get up from the bunk. The sheriff was a type of soft-brained local police that he’d run into often in his travels ... a kind of man he didn’t particularly respect. Sam, however, jumped to his feet.

“We ran your I.D.’s,” their captor said gruffly. “You two don’t show up as having any kind of arrest record.”

“So, we can leave then?” Sam asked. He glanced over at Dean. “After paying the damages?”

The officer scratched his head, a wry expression on his florid well-padded face. “That’s just it,” he said. “I thought we’d release you two, but then I got this FAX from the military ... Quantico no less. They want you held. There’s some official on his way who apparently has an interest.”

“In us?” Sam said, eyebrows rising in surprise.

“In him,” the officer said, pointing a finger at Dean. “Seems that bar code tattoo on the back of your neck is creatin’ a bit of a hullabaloo, son.”

Dean’s eyes narrowed. Shit. He’d forgotten. His right hand twitched, but he resisted the urge to reach up and touch the back of his neck. Silently he calculated how long it had been since he’d lasered the thing off.

Too long ... The sheriff had tipped to it when they’d searched them, entered the tattoo into the data base along with his fingerprints, and voila -- instant recognition by New Manticore of an X5 outside the protection of Terminal City -- in other words, fair game for their re-acquirement program. Of course his former keepers would be monitoring all law enforcement reports ...

Sam looked over at him worriedly.

“You’re one of ‘em, ain’t ya?” the sheriff said with a sly little smile. “One of them Freaks?”

“Why officer,” Dean said carefully. “I’m sure I don’t know what you’re referring to. Yeah, I used to run with a street gang in my wild, misspent youth, and the tattoo was part of the initiation, but that was years ago. I’m an upstanding citizen now.” Dean smiled as he sat up. “Why, do I look like I’m part animal to you? Like one of those ‘Freaks’ as you call them.”

The sheriff scrutinized his prisoner closely, those small beady eyes narrowing. “Not particularly,” he said with a snort. “But what you do look like is a punk ass liar with more good looks than brains. Just stay put for a bit and your visitors will be here shortly,” he tossed back over his shoulder as he left the cell block, keys jangling at his waist.

Sam at least waited until the officer was out of earshot before rounding on his brother. “What the hell are we gonna do now, Dean? You’ve been made.”

“You sound like an old gangster movie,” Dean groused as he sat up and put booted feet on the stained cell floor. “Don’t be so dramatic. It’ll be fine,” he added as he stood and stretched. But silently, the X5’s mind was racing. He didn’t have much time. Worse ... he had Sam to worry about. Himself, he could get out of here, but the danger to his brother would be great, not to mention they’d both instantly become fugitives -- not the best of situations to be in while looking for Dad. Chewing on his lower lip, the young transgenic ran through his options -- which didn’t take very long considering he had so few.

“Dean?” Sam repeated. “What are we gonna do?”

Manticore wanted him alive -- of that 494 was certain. They’d go to great lengths to insure he was kept relatively intact -- physically at least. Sam, however, was another story. Maybe the best thing to do was lay it on the line for his brother. “I can get out of this,” he finally said. “But I hafta to do it alone.”

“But--”

Dean held up his hand, not letting Sam interrupt. “If we try’n run now, you’ll be a huge liability. My best bet’s to light out on my own so I’m well away from you and there’s no chance of you gettin’ caught in the crossfire.” And dying, his mind added, even as his stomach clenched at the memory of Rachel.

“Uh-uh,” Sam said angrily. “No way. I’m not leavin’ you.”

“There are all kinds of Evil in this world, Sammy,” Dean said tiredly as he moved to the bars, “not just the ones we hunt. My creators ... they’re worse than a lot of the monsters we’ve put down, and they’ll kill you without battin’ an eyelash. Me ... I’m valuable. But you ... you’re just an ordinary human who’s in the way. Worse ... you’re a witness to their precious X5 program ... someone who could provide information to enemy governments about what makes me tick.”

“That’s ridiculous,” Sam sputtered. “You’re my brother, and nothing more. I’d never--”

“They don’t think like that, Sammy,” Dean said harshly, beginning to lose his temper. “To them I’m just a piece of meat, and you’re a whole lot less than that. Now you’re gonna stay put, right here in this cell where I know you’re safe, and I’m gonna get my ass outta here.”

“And then what?” Sam practically shouted, blue-green eyes so like their mother’s glaring. “Leave me to find Dad by myself?”

“We meet up later,” Dean said simply. “I’ll lay low until the heat’s off then contact you.”

“And what makes you think these handlers of yours are gonna leave me alive just because you’re gone?” Sam asked, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “If they’re the bogeymen you say they are they’ll probably kill me just for spite ... or to punish you for escaping.”

Sam had a point. Dean looked away, out at the cell corridor. He was damned if he did, and damned if he didn’t. Either way, he didn’t see how he could protect his baby brother ... not this time. Whether he stayed or fled, they’d kill the kid. Maybe it was better if he stood his ground. At least that way he and Sam could go down fighting, side-by-side. But if Sam died, and he didn’t, and Manticore got their hands on him ...

Dean shivered, hunching in his leather coat.

“What is it?” Sam asked softly, coming two steps closer so he could place a hand on his brother’s forearm.

“Nothin’. Someone just stepped on my grave,” Dean said, smirking at his own superstition.

“Don’t say that. It isn’t funny.”

“Yeah, well, it’s true. That’s how I feel. Sam, I don’t see any way out of this for us.”

“Run then,” Sam said simply. “I’ll stay behind so you have a chance. I’ll stall ‘em ... tell ‘em whatever they wanna hear to give you time.”

Dean closed his eyes, touched more than he’d ever admit by his brother’s willingness to sacrifice himself. “No,” he said softly. “If we go, we go together. And if we die--”

“--we die together,” Sam finished for him.

The two brothers locked eyes, then Dean nodded once.

“You got a plan?” Sam said.

“Don’t I always,” the X5 said, a wry smile lighting up his face and making hazel-green eyes sparkle.

*****

“Guard! Guard! For God’s sake get in here! It’s my brother!” Sam’s voice cracked with emotion as he lifted Dean’s lifeless body down from where it was hanging-- sheet around his neck -- from the crossbars on the side of the cell. “I just woke up and he was--” Wild-eyed, the young man stared pleadingly up at the deputy who’d answered his cry. “Do you know CPR? He’s not breathin’.”

The patrolman began fumbling with the keys at his waist, but then the sheriff himself came through the door. “Whoa, son,” he told his man, fat fingers on the boy’s wrist stopping him as he was about to insert key in lock. “That military guy said to not go near the prisoner, no matter what.”

“But he’s not breathing!” the younger man protested.

“For God’s sake help him!” Sam begged, his eyes filling with tears as he knelt beside Dean’s deathly still form as it lay on the floor. “He said he would never go back to where they were taking him,” he managed to choke out the words. “Dean swore they’d never take him alive, but I didn’t think--”

“Those guys who’re on their way are gonna be pissed if their precious prisoner is dead,” the patrolman pointed out.

The sheriff scratched his balding head.

“Sir,” the officer said. “Every second counts here.”

Finally, the older man nodded. “Do what you can for him,” he said. “But you,” he indicated Sam as nodded “But you, stand back.”

Holding up both hands in submission, Sam complied, rising to his feet and backing away to the opposite side of the cell where he’d be well out of the way. Of course, he knew what was going to happen ...

Dean kept his eyes closed, instinctively knowing when the guard was close ... kneeling beside him ... then--

Grabbing hold of two fistfuls of the officer’s uniform, the X5 used the leverage to leap to his feet. Grinning -- in his element -- he then lifted his adversary bodily and easily tossed him across the cell to impact against the still partially open door. The move was so quick the sheriff had yet to react. Blurring, the X5 was into the corridor and had cracked that fat jowl with a fist before the old fart could do more than squeal with fear. “Sweet dreams” Dean said, still smiling as he punched the sheriff one more time just for good measure, sending him to slumberland alongside his deputy. He then glanced back at Sam who was watching approvingly. “Impressed?” he asked smugly.

“Show off,” the younger man threw back at him.

Irrepressible, Dean winked. “Let’s go.” They were the only two prisoners on the block, and hopefully there wouldn’t be many guards to get through outside. The X5 was also hoping his car would be parked in the impound lot out back. If their luck held, the two of them would be long gone before Manticore arrived. However, as he bent to pick up the keys, a long shadow fell across the dirty cement floor. It was the second time that day someone had walked over Dean Winchester’s “grave.” The X5 raised his eyes slowly.

“Dean?” Sam said quietly from beside him.

“Don’t move,” his brother ordered, voice low, quiet, and commanding. “And whatever you do, don’t say anything.” Cautiously, the X5 stood up, placing himself between the newcomers and Sam -- a heroic, though futile, gesture.

“494,” Major Davis Stendahl said, nodding, a devilish triumphant smile playing on pale features as watery blue eyes roved over his prize. “I’m going to put this simply. It’s time to come home, soldier. Your freedom is over -- forever. Resist, and everything will just be more painful.” The Major looked to the trio of X5s who were accompanying him -- battle-hardened, stoney-faced automatons. “Take him into custody,” he ordered, indicating Dean. “And kill the boy.”

*****

“You know these guys?” Sam asked quietly, his heart pounding with fear but managing to not let it show.

“Shut up,” Dean returned, his tone equally low as he warily watched the approaching X5s. “Just shut the fuck up.”

Sam turned his head to look at his brother, and what he saw scared him even more than the military officer’s words. Rarely had he ever seen Dean rattled, but the emotion in his bro’s eyes right now was pure despair. “Dean?”

Inching closer to Sam until their shoulders were touching, Dean said under his breath, “You take the one on the left, I’ll take the two on the right. Go for the eyes, throat, and balls. It’s pretty much my kind’s only weaknesses.”

Sam’s blood turned to ice. This was serious ... for real. He knew how his older brother fought -- with the ferocity of a wildcat and the precision of an executioner -- a level of genetic skill and training he, himself, had never even come close to achieving in spite of a lifetime of practice. For Dean, kicking ass came as naturally as breathing, and the younger man had always taken comfort in knowing that when things got really bad his sibling’s strength, aggression, and battle savvy could always pull them through. However, Dean -- who nothing ever frightened -- was scared right now ... scared of these Manticore men ... and that, alone, was enough to make Sam’s knees shake.

“You’re going to make this messy, aren’t you, son, the pale featured major said, the smile on his thin lips not reaching those cold emotionless eyes.

Dean tensed beside him, preparing to leap, not bothering to answer, and Sam’s hand shot out to grab hold of his brother’s wrist. “Wait!” Sam said loudly. “Can’t we talk about this? Work something out?”

The major’s eyebrows rose in amusement as that snake-cold gaze turned from the X5 to the human.

“Just give me a reason,” Sam pleaded.

“I. Said. Shut. Up.” Dean muttered through gritted teeth.

“No, you shut up,” Sam shot back, sparing a quick glance at his partner. “I’m tryin’ to save our lives. Fighting’s not gonna do that this time, and you know it.”

“Surrender’s not an option,” Dean replied, his voice oddly flat as he freed himself from Sam’s hand with a vicious twist of his wrist that left the younger man’s thumb aching. “I will never go back to them, and I’m also not gonna just let ‘em slaughter you.”

“There doesn’t have to be any slaughtering, does there?” Sam said to the major, trying with all his might to keep his own voice calm and sincere. “I’m not the enemy, so you have no reason to kill me.”

“It’s called collateral damage,” Dean said as he kept his eyes locked on those other X5s. “Isn’t that right, Major? Like I told you before, Sammy, they don’t want witnesses.”

“Witnesses to what?” Sam asked, his tone rising in desperation because he honestly and truly didn’t understand this shit his brother was involved in. “So Dean’s a goddamned supersoldier! Who the hell cares? Manticore went down years ago and its people are now part of society. Why are you still after my brother’s ass? Why can’t you just leave him alone?”

The major snorted what might have been a laugh. “Not that I owe a dead man an explanation,” he said, “but I’m not without some sympathy for your confusion, boy. So, I’ll enlighten you before 483 breaks your neck.

Dean tensed again.

“Wait,” Sam said, the word an order to his brother. He wanted to hear this, even if it meant he’d be a corpse in another minute. “Why?” he repeated to the military man.

“You really don’t know what he is, do you?” the major said. “You really think your brother’s human?”

“He is human,” Sam spat. “And a lot moreso than a murdering butcher like you I might add.”

“No, he’s not,” the major shot right back. “X5-494 -- and that is his name ... his designation -- has the physical appearance of a human, but inside, on the DNA level, he’s something far more dangerous and insidious.”

“I know all about that,” Sam said levelly. “Dean told me about the whole feline/human hybrid thing ... how you messed with his DNA before he was born. How you made him ... better.” Sam’s lips twitched as he said that last -- a compliment to Dean. He couldn’t help it. After all, it was pretty much true. “But he’s still my blood brother and nothing you can say will change that.”

“He’s not your brother,” the major said tersely. “He’s military property ... wetware ... worth billions of dollars in R and D. He belongs with his own kind, kept under strict control so he can be used appropriately in this country’s arsenal. In fact, the last place in the world 494 should be is out in the general population, a wolf among sheep so to speak, where he could cause untold harm both physically and to the human gene pool if he breeds. All it takes is a trigger for him to kill, you know. It’s the way he was designed. And have not doubt of it Sammy, your brother was, indeed built in a lab the same way we’d build any other weapon for our nation’s defense. He belongs to the government. He’s not human. And it is coming back with us.”

“Hey, I’m standin’ right here, Stendahl,” Dean hissed. “You want my ass back, fine. Take me. Do what you want with me. I’ll come peacefully. But let my brother go. Those are the terms -- let Sam walk outta here or I swear you’re gonna see exactly what kinda damage this weapon really can do.”

“Dial it back, Dean,” Sam said evenly.

“There’s no ‘dialin’ back’ with these bastards,” Dean growled. “All they know is killin’.”

Then to Sam’s horror (and proving Dean’s point), Stendahl coolly drew his side arm and -- before either of the boys could react -- shot first the unconscious sheriff then his deputy in the head, their skulls exploding and peppering the cement floor with brain matter and blood. Then, with a soulless smile, he pointed the gun at Sam. No witnesses.

The young man blinked once, took a deep breath, and prepared to die, even as he sensed Dean readying a leap beside him. However, it would be no use in the end. His brother was fast ... but not faster than a bullet.

*****

“Stand down, Major!” someone behind Stendahl suddenly barked.

The gun didn’t waiver.

“I said stand down! That’s an order.”

Dean’s eyes darted to the corridor outside the cell block, then narrowed. He knew that voice ...

“Who is it?” Sam asked beside him. “What’s goin’ on?”

“I’m not sure,” Dean said honestly, but hoping mightily that it was the Calvary arriving just in the nick of time. Although why such a sinner as himself should warrant a miraculous intervention of that kind he didn’t know-- because a miracle is what it would indeed be.

The three X5s accompanying Stendahl looked to their master, but the major’s hand stayed them, the same as Sam’s hand once again grasping his wrist stayed 494. And then Dean saw the man behind the voice. “Oh, shit,” the X5 muttered under his breath, wondering if he hadn’t just been tossed out of the proverbial frying pan and into the fire. What the fuck is Lydecker doin’ here? But the second figure beside the Colonel immediately put 494’s heart at ease. “Mole?” he said, for a second wondering if he was hallucinating -- either that or he was already dead and angels had scales.

“In the flesh,” the lizard man replied, grinning around the stub of his cigar as he hefted a sawed-off shotgun and stepped up beside Colonel Donald Lydecker. Several more shadowy forms moved behind them and Dean got a glimpse of a couple of familiar Terminal City faces -- X4s -- and what looked like maybe one X3, cat-features and all. “How’s it hangin’, pretty boy?” Mole quipped. “Life on the road treatin’ you well?”

“What the hell are you doin’ here?” Dean asked, his voice incredulous. “How did you--?”

“Excellent questions,” Stendahl said sharply. “This is a Manticore procedure, Colonel, which makes it my jurisdiction. You have no authority here.”

“Oh, I’d say I have plenty of authority,” Lydecker replied with a brief smile as Mole cocked the shotgun.

“I have three combat trained X5 soldiers with me,” Stendahl said bitingly.

“And I have an entire squad of equally highly trained transgenics and transhumans with me,” Lydecker shot back. “Do you really want to go to war with me, Davis? See who’s is bigger? Because I guarantee my men have a far more personal stake in this than yours, and you know damn well what the outcome will be. 494’s ass is mine, not yours. He’s one of the Terminal City transgenics and that puts him under my jurisdiction. In fact, he’s currently on a mission for me.”

Dean blinked at that, exchanged looks with Sam, and shrugged.

“Leave him, Davis,” Lydecker ordered. “And the boy.” He looked down at the dead sheriff and deputy. “Before anything else ‘unfortunate’ happens.”

“For God’s sakes, Lydecker, he’s an alpha breeding male,” Stendahl hissed. “There’s only a handful of X5s left alive in the world, and of those only a fraction can reproduce. He’s already sired a child ... proven his fertility. His DNA is priceless with regards to its structure alone, add to that his sperm count and--”

“None of which changes this Unit’s ownership,” Lydecker interrupted. “He’s mine.”

“Then what’s he doing roaming free where any of innumerable foreign nationals could steal his genetics?” Stendahl argued.

“I told you, he’s on a mission for me,” Lydecker replied evenly.

“And the ordinary with him? You allow your X5s to fraternize with humans? Call them ‘brother’?”

“Why not?” the Colonel said with a small smile. “If it keeps the Unit content what’s the harm? After all, I allowed 494 to ‘fraternize” as you say with his biological parental units while he was maturing, and I think it added greatly to his ability to pass for human.”

Dean winced. He’d heard his inhumanity espoused dozens of times before, but it still galled, especially coming from the mouth of the man who’d more-or-less been responsible for his literal creation.

“And also added greatly to his ability to rebel,” Stendahl sneered. “How many times has this Unit undergone re-indoctrination? Once? Twice? And it will be three I might add once I get him back to my base -- and this time I guarantee you it will stick, even if it means a partial lobotomy.”

“494’s not going back to your base,” Lydecker said easily. He turned to Dean. “Go,” he said. “Take your brother, and go.”

The X5 still wasn’t sure about this, but he wasn’t going to let the chance of freedom slip away. Grabbing Sam by the shoulder, he shoved the younger man toward the door behind his Terminal City rescuers. However, as he passed by Mole he said in a low tone, “Max? She all right?”

“Her Highness is fine,” the lizard man replied in an equally low voice. “Sends her ‘love’,” he added snidely, saying the word as if it were an epithet instead of a term of endearment. “Kid’s fine too. She wanted to come with us -- been havin’ a real hissy-fit about it in fact ever since that sheriff’s report about your bar code flagged in our computer system. But Lydecker talked her outta it -- said there was a real danger Stendahl would wanna take her too. That’s why we only brought X4s and transhumans. We knew he’d only want the cream of the crop, not the dregs.”

“494!” Lydecker barked. “I said move out, soldier! Continue your mission. You’ll receive further orders soon.”

“Yes, sir!” Dean replied automatically. Mission? What mission? He turned around and looked back at the Colonel. “And thank you, sir,” he added, complimenting the words with a quick salute -- the most respect 494/Alec/Dean had ever shown any man.

Lydecker, with a wry smile, saluted back. And then Dean once again grabbed Sam by the shoulder and shoved him through the oddly deserted sheriff’s station. They found the Impala in the impound lot out back, the keys in the ignition and the chain link gates wide open. His gang had done their job well. The getaway would be clean. In fact, Dean thought, he wouldn’t be surprised if the data regarding his and Sam’s recent arrest hadn’t already been wiped out of the law enforcement computer system, compliments of Dix and Luke.

“Are they gonna leave you alone now?” Sam asked, breathing a sigh of relief as the engine roared to life and Dean put the car in gear.

“No,” his brother said. “But at least this buys us time to keep searchin’ for Dad.” He looked over at Sam. “Now do you understand what it means to be what I am?”

“I’m beginning to,” Sam replied. “And I sure as hell don’t like it.”

*****

“Is he all right?”

“He’s fine. A bit rattled, but that could be a good thing ... teaches him to be more careful, even if he won’t admit it. You know, that goddamned cocky attitude of his always was 494’s worst genetic trait.”

“I always thought it was the ‘high verbal’ gene that was his most annoying,” Max said with a small, but relieved, smile. “You know ... all that yapping and yapping ...”

“He asked about you,” Lydecker said, steepling his hands as he sat behind the desk of the small office he kept in the building just outside of Terminal City’s gates -- the one originally owned by Logan Cale. The apartment upstairs -- vacated by Eyes Only after he and 452 parted ways -- came in handy too at times, along with the hidden tunnel that led into the transgenics’ city. “The DAC told him you and his son were all right -- put his mind at ease.”

“Do you think Stendahl will keep going after him?”

“Yes,” the Colonel said honestly. “Davis has a real hard-on about recovering this particular quote ‘alpha breeding male’ unquote. But on the other hand I don’t think he’ll be quite as aggressive about it now. After all -- as I pointed out -- if he gets too close and misses, or hurts 494’s brother, that boy’s perfectly capable of turning the tables and coming after the man who’s pursuing him. In fact, that’s what he’s been trained to do -- strike first. I don’t think even Davis is quite ready to have a truly pissed off X5 on his tail, especially one with 494’s capabilities.”

“And Stendahl also has to know now that Terminal City is ready to mount an army if necessary to help one of its own,” Max said, her brown eyes narrowing with determination. “I just wish--”

“Wish what?”

“I just wish that Alec could someday really come home. He’s a jerk, but he’s still the sire of my son and Brac deserves to know his father.”

Colonel Lydecker had no answer to that -- nor did Max expect him to. And when she left the office a few minutes later to return to her life with her child, her heart ached for X5-494 ... for her Smart Alec ... more than she’d ever admit. Fingering the pentagram she still wore around her neck, she glanced up at the ominously darkening clouds and silently sent up a little prayer on his behalf, somehow knowing her man would need all the help he could get.

In reply a bolt of lightening cut across the sky.

THE END