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Artwork courtesy of Valjean & JensenAcklesFans.com

Family - Part I
By Valjean

*****

They drove straight through -- taking turns sleeping -- and reached Seattle in a little over a day. Terminal City was still under heavy military guard -- supposedly no one in, no one out. However, the man Dean needed to see was outside the perimeter.

“Hello, ‘Deck,” he said as he sauntered into the Colonel’s office with Sam following a few paces behind. “You called? You know I do have a cell phone.”

“Cell phone calls can be traced,” Lydecker said, his voice acerbic and not at all flummoxed by the X5's sudden appearance. But then of course he'd been expecting his man ... “And I needed to be especially careful with regards to this assignment considering who the target is.”

“Target?” Dean said, ignoring Sam’s alarmed glance.

The aging military man leaned back in his squeaky desk chair, arms behind his head, and beamed a chilly smile up at his rogue “kid.” “The job’s simple, 494. A straight forward assassination. The trick, however, will be finding him. He’s got to know Manticore will be coming after him.”

“I told you before, I’m not an assassin,” Dean said levelly. “Not any more.”

Lydecker’s laugh was a short bark. “Of course you are,” he sneered. “It’s what you were designed for ... trained most of your life for ... You made your first kill when you were only eleven years old, remember?” He glanced at Sam. “I bet your big brother never told you about that now, did he, son? How he used to hunt for sport in a pack ... track down death-row-convicts who’d been set free in the woods then kill them with his bare hands?”

“We only killed because you made us,” Dean said, his voice low. “Back then I didn’t have a choice. Now, I do. I won’t murder anyone for you, ‘Deck. Not even to repay that debt. I work the other side of the fence now. I’m one of the good guys. Remember?”

“I was afraid you might say that,” Lydecker replied with a heavy sigh as he sat up straight in his chair. He pressed a button on the side of his desk and Dean tensed. “Which is why I’m so very, very glad you brought baby brother with you.”

The office door burst open and suddenly the room was filled with machine-gun toting guards. At least six barrels were aimed pointblank at the brothers’ heads.

Dean smiled, forcing muscles to relax. “You won’t kill me,” he said calmly. “I’m no good to you dead.”

“You’re right,” Lydecker said, smiling as well. “I need you alive, and more importantly I need your cooperation. However--” He looked to one of the armed guards who took a step closer to Sam. “I have no such restrictions with regards to your ordinary little brother.” A nod, and before Dean could react, the big burly guard grabbed hold of Sam and threw him face down on top of Lydecker’s desk. Sam tried to catch himself, putting hands out, fingers splayed -- which is when Lydecker proved once again just what a merciless bastard he still was. With speed that rivaled an X5’s, he stood, drew a large hunting knife from its sheath at his waist, and plunged the tip downward through flesh and bone, pinning Sam’s hand to the wooden desk top.

Sam’s scream of agony nearly -- but not quite -- drowned out 494’s horrified cry of “No!” The X5 moved with lightening swiftness, springing through the air like the big cat he part was with no thought other than to kill this man who dared to hurt his family ... no thought to the fact that there were half a dozen machine guns trained on him ... no thought to the fact that to attack the Colonel meant certain death. However, Lydecker was hardly a fool. Bullets weren’t the only means of taking down an X5.

Two TASER wands hit Dean simultaneously -- one in the back, the other in his side -- the massive jolt of electricity dropping him from midair leap to the floor where he landed in a twitching heap.

“Cage him,” the Colonel said softly as he stood looking down with surprisingly sympathetic eyes at the unconscious X5. “Let me know when he comes around.” He then spared a glance to Sam who was struggling to stay conscious himself. Reaching out, Lydecker took hold of the knife’s hilt and wrenched it free. Blood, dark and viscous, ran in rivulets over the desk top as Sam drew his injured hand away and staggered back, eyes narrowed dangerously, looking part animal himself. “And cage this one too,” he added. “I’m not through with him either.”

*****

Sam threw up in the corner of the cell. He couldn’t help it, the sight of the gaping hole that went clear through his hand more than his stomach could bear. Afterwards, when he’d stopped heaving, he crawled across the cement floor to where his brother lay. Eyes closed, breathing softly, Dean looked like he was asleep, but there was also a frightening quality to his stillness. They damn near electrocuted him, Sam thought to himself as he cradled his brother’s head in his lap while holding his bleeding hand out to one side.

“Here,” a voice said from the other side of the bars. Sam looked up, startled. He hadn’t heard Lydecker’s approach. The Colonel tossed a first aide kit into the cell. “Clean yourself up,” he said -- an order.

Sam just stared at the plastic med kit. “Dean’s the one who needs medical attention,” he said in a monotone. “Don’t worry about me.”

“494’s fine,” Lydecker said. ‘He’ll reboot in a little while.”

“Reboot?” Sam said, glaring up at the man whom he still didn’t know whether to classify as ally or enemy. “You make it sound like he’s a machine.”

“He is,” the Colonel said simply. “Your brother’s wetware. He always has been. Just because you think of him as family doesn’t change that fact.”

Dean stirred slightly and groaned, and Sam turned his attention to his brother. “He won’t kill for you,” the young man said to Lydecker without looking at the man. “You can’t make him.”

“Oh, yes I can,” Lydecker said quietly. “Because if he doesn’t obey orders, then someone very close to him is going to die anyway.”

“Me?” Sam said, blue-green eyes looking up.

Lydecker inclined his head.

“You’re going to keep me hostage and force Dean to perform an assassination for you?”

“Works for me,” the Colonel said simply.

“Ow,” Dean groaned, raising a hand to his temple as hazel-green eyes fluttered open. He shook his head, winced, and bit down hard on his lower lip. “Sam,” he managed. “You okay?”

“Not really,” Sam said, pulling the med kit to himself. “But I’m better than you I think.”

“Wake up, 494!” Lydecker barked. “You’ve got orders to carry out.”

“You can’t make me,” Dean said harshly, struggling to throw off the effects of the massive electrical shock his system had received.

“As I just told your baby brother, oh yes I can,” Lydecker replied. “The deal is this, 494. You have 72 hours to find and eliminate your target. During that time you’ll be checking in with me every six hours. Each time you miss a check-in, I cut off one of Sammy’s body parts ... maybe an eye ... an ear ... a finger. I can even get creative. If at the end of your three days you’ve failed, or run off, or gotten yourself killed, he’ll be executed. Do we understand one another?”

Dean glared at the man, but said nothing. Lydecker stepped forward. “Here’s your target,” he said, tossing a manila folder through the bars and onto the floor in front of him. “Seventy-two hours, 494. And I expect absolute proof that the job’s done.”

“What proof?” Dean said through clenched teeth.

“His head,” Lydecker said. “I expect you to bring me his head. You’ll be released for your mission at dawn.” And with those final words (and a grim smile), the Colonel turned his back on his intractable “kid” and left the cell block.

“Who’s the target?” Sam asked after Lydecker’s exit.

Dean flipped open the folder, and caught his breath as a picture of Logan Cale stared up at him.

*****

“Clock’s ticking, 494,” Lydecker said, tapping his watch as he stood with the X5 just outside the warehouse compound now used as New Manticore’s headquarters.

Dean looked back over his shoulder, but of course he couldn’t see Sam. His brother was still under heavy guard deep in the bowels of the building, his injured hand now dressed properly but with no guarantee that other “body parts” wouldn’t suffer in the near future.

“Three days,” the Colonel continued. He tossed Dean a cell phone which the X5 deftly caught. “Check in with me every six hours. If you’re even a minute late, your brother pays in flesh.”

“When I get back I’m gonna kill you for this,” Dean said calmly. “You know that don’t you.”

“I’m looking forward to you trying, 494,” Lydecker said, his voice filled with what might have been humor. “It’s about time you returned to your true nature. But first, bring me Cale’s head. It’s the only way you can save Sam.”

“Do you have a location?” Dean found himself asking.

“No,” Lydecker replied. “Which is part of the problem. But then I imagine you know exactly who to go to for that information. She’ll tell you, too, because -- no matter how much the lady protests -- 452’s still awfully fond of you. She trusts you. I’m sure you can--” A lascivious smile. “--‘persuade’ her to give you what you need.”

She trusts me, Dean thought as he walked away from the compound, heading on foot to the only place he could think to go -- Terminal City. But she shouldn’t ...

*****

This time he did go to Logan’s penthouse apartment in the building catty-corner from TC’s main entrance. He thought Max would be there, but the musty smell of the place told him it hadn’t been occupied in days ... maybe weeks ... even though there was still stale food on the kitchen counter and sour milk in the fridge. Hurrying down the steps of the secret passageway, Dean entered the long tunnel that took him deep into Terminal City proper. When he came up through the exit and emerged onto the street, he glanced once at his watch, noted the time, and headed for the main compound, ignoring the pointed stares of several X6s and an X4 that he passed on the street.

“Dix,” Dean called out from the doorway of TC’s command center. “Where’s Max?”

“Alec!” the little mashed-potato headed mutant shouted, a grin lighting up his deformed face and making his one good eye twinkle.

“Alec!” Luke echoed, the ditch-digger and Dix’s sidekick rushing over to throw arms around the X5. “Man, have we missed you! Are you back to stay?”

“Wish I could,” Dean said truthfully, surprised at himself for the emotion welling in his chest as his Manticore brothers greeted him. “I need to find Max fast, though.”

Luke looked at Dix who shrugged. “It’s not a secret,” Dix said. “She’s got her own place down on sixth street. Been livin’ there ever since Logan left.”

“Logan left?” Dean said. “When?”

“A few weeks ago,” Dix replied. “Right after Max and Lydecker led that rescue mission to get you back from Stendahl.

“Brac’s with her?”

Again the two mutants looked at one another.

“What? Tell me.”

“Max keeps the kid well away from TC,” Luke replied. “He’s with O.C. but she won’t tell anyone where. Says it’s safer that way.”

Dean was nodding, agreeing in theory if not in the practicality of what Max was obviously trying to do. “I need a favor,” he said.

“Name it,” Dix replied.

“Run a bug check on me,” Dean said. “I need to know if I’m wired. And when you’re done, I need someone to sneak out to Sandeman’s house and check out my car. It’s in the garage in back. Lydecker’s trackin’ me somehow.”

It took only a few minutes for Dix to run a metal detector wand over Dean’s body, showing no trace of a bug or other foreign metal under his skin. “The car then,” Dean said. “It has to be.”

“You go talk to Max,” Dix assured him. “Luke and me will give your ride a good going over. Meanwhile,” he grinned, “you wouldn’t be interested in usin’ your old bike again, would you?”

“You’re kidding me,” Dean said, a smile forming on his face in spite of his dire circumstances. “My bike’s still here?”

“And in tiptop condition,” Luke said proudly. “I hardly ever let anyone use it. This way you won’t have to risk usin’ your own car for awhile, especially if you think it’s bein’ traced.”

“Oh, man, just point me to where it’s parked,” the X5 said, meaning that wholeheartedly.

“In the garage, C deck, row 10,” Luke said. He took a set of keys down from the wall and handed them to his old friend. Dean pocketed them and nodded gratefully. “Thanks,” he said, his voice gruff with emotion. “You guys have no idea how much this means to me. Now,” he added, “if only Maxie welcomes me with open arms too, ‘cause I sure need her help.”

“When didn’t you need her help?” a new voice said from the doorway as Mole stepped through. “Good to see you, cat-boy. Where you been hidin’ your ass lately?”

“Hidin’ is right,” Dean admitted as he greeted the cigar-chomping lizard man with another big hug and a comraderly pat on the back.

“Lemme guess,” Mole said. “Someone’s got you by the balls again and you need Her Highness to bail your ass out.”

“Somethin’ like that,” Dean admitted.

“Can I help?” Mole said, sincere.

Dean shook his head. “Not this time. But I really do need to see Max.” He headed for the door. “Don’t worry,” he said to Luke. “I’ll be gentle on the bike. You’ll get it back in one piece.”

“Doesn’t matter to me,” Luke returned. “As far as I’m concerned, she’s your ride, Alec.”

“Lemme know when the action is gonna start,” Mole added.

The X5 nodded, then ducked out the door, headed for TC’s motor pool. Once mounted on his old motorcycle (and feeling more confident than he had in hours), it took only a few minutes to reach sixth street where Max’s black Ninja was parked outside one of the renovated apartment buildings. Taking a deep breath, he dismounted and headed for the stairs. This was going to be interesting ...

*****

She opened the door on the first knock, which made him think she’d spotted him on the bike down below.

“Max I--”

Those were the only words he managed to get out before her lips were locked with his ... devouring him ... her arms encircling his neck and drawing him tight against her heated body before throwing him down on the floor.

What transpired over the next hour was simple, primitive, and incredibly erotic. Basically, Max raped him -- and he let her. Dean could think of no other way to describe the violent way they coupled, her on top and him submissive below as she held him pinned on the floor of her apartment with transgenic strength, her naked loins enveloping his privates and forcing him to come over and over again while she covered his face, neck, and chest with kisses. At the peak of her heat cycle and with no man to bring relief he’d stepped through that door at the very worst -- or best -- possible moment.

“Oh, God,” she breathed against his bare chest when she’d finally satiated herself. His arms enveloped her, holding her tightly against himself, afraid she was going to leave him. “Alec ... I’m sorry. I--”

The sound of his other name -- the one she’d given him -- sent a little thrill of pleasure down Dean’s spine. “Nothin’ to be sorry about,” he said gruffly as a little smile quirked the corners of his lips. “It’s not your fault I’m irresistible.”

She drew back then, looking at him quizzically through long strands of tangled brown hair. “Same old smart ass,” she said, shaking her head.

“Some things never change,” he agreed, shifting slightly so her naked body could lie more comfortably on top of his. He hugged her again. “What was that really all about?” he asked softly.

“What was what all about?” Max shot right back at him.

“This,” Dean said, raising his hips. Still inside of her, he felt her warm wetness slide against him and had to take a deep steadying breath.

Max shrugged. “I just wanted to fuck.”

“Same here,” Dean agreed.

“We always were good together.”

“In more ways than one,” he said, remembering not just the hot sex he’d had with Max on a couple of previous occasions but the many capers they’d pulled off together over the years. And then there was Brac ...

“Why are you here?” she asked, still contentedly lying with her cheek resting against the bare skin of his chest, her breath warm on his flesh as an index fingers trailed little circles around his nipple.

Dean reached up with a big hand and began kneading her right breast. “I was in the neighborhood,” he said simply. “And I wanted to check on you and Brac. Also, I wanted to thank you for tellin’ Sam about Ben ... the truth.”

“Did he believe me?” Max asked.

“Yeah. Sam likes you for some reason ... trusts you.”

“Brac’s not here,” she said, bringing her head up so she could look into his eyes. “It’s too dangerous. I’ve got him and O.C. stashed in one of Logan’s safe houses upstate. Joshua’s with them too -- for protection.” Brown eyes met golden green ones. “I was going to tell you,” she added. “I’m not trying to keep you from him.”

“I believe you,” Dean said, meaning it. He bit down on his lower lip, his eyes traveling to a clock on the wall, checking the time. Soon he’d have a phone call to make. “Speakin’ of Logan,” he said carefully. “Where is he?” He glanced toward a doorway that presumably led to the bedroom.

“Don’t worry,” Max said, getting up at last, freeing him. (Dean felt a twinge of regret when he slid out of her. He’d liked being there ... inside of Max ...) “He’s on a job and won’t be back for awhile.”

“So now you’re cheatin’ on him just like you cheated on me?”

Cruel words, but with the sexual fire in his loins quenched Dean realized he couldn’t let himself get caught up in loving this woman again ... not when it could mean the death of his brother. Best to end this now.

“I can’t help it that I love you both,” Max replied quietly, walking over to the window, her naked body as lovely ... as perfect ... when viewed from behind as it was from the front, even after bearing a child.

Dean got up as well, brushed off his hands, and moved to stand beside her, deliberately defying boundaries, the skin of his shoulder ... hip ... touching hers. “That’s a bunch of crap,” he said, his voice as hard as his body had been moments before.

Max turned and touched his cheek with her hand, fingers caressing the softness of his skin and the harshness of his beard stubble. “I do love you both,” she insisted. “That’s always been the problem. I can admit it now, to you and to myself. I love Logan, but I love you too.”

“Well, you can’t have us both,” Dean said. “One of these days you’re gonna hafta choose.

“But not tonight,” Max murmured against his swollen lips, her mouth opening to his once more as fingers tightened on his chin. “Tonight I just want you.” And then her hands were on him again, and Dean knew that it was no use. This bitch had him not just by the balls, but by the heart.

*****

“Your brother’s a chimera,” Donald Lydecker said, drawing a straight-back chair up to the bars outside of Sam’s cell and sitting down, elbows resting on knees. “Part man, but also part animal. No matter what you think ... no matter how much you love him, he’s not human. He’s an X5 Unit.”

Sam Winchester didn’t know whether to be amused or alarmed that Dean’s favorite colonel seemed to be feeling chatty. Cradling his aching hand, he’d spent the past few hours seated on the sparse bunk in the cell, back against the cold wall, his mind going around in circles as he wondered how the hell he was going to get out of this mess. However, he knew full well that there was no such thing as too much information, so he was willing to humor the guy and perhaps learn something useful in the process. “Dean’s as human as you or me,” Sam said. “I don’t care if his DNA meows. I’ve known him all my life. He’s an ass hole sometimes, but he’s also got a big heart, and I know he’d die for me. Nothing you say can make me think any different.”

The Colonel smiled indulgently. “John Winchester might have been the original sperm donor for 494’s conception, and Mary Winchester the egg donor and surrogate for the finished product,” he said, “but there was a great deal of genetic manipulation done to that embryo before it was ever implanted in your mother’s womb. DNA strands were removed, added, and altered using extremely advanced retroviral techniques that haven’t been duplicated since. X5-494 was gifted with the reflexes and senses of a cat ... neurological pathways included ... all the bells and whistles. His bone mass was increased, his musculature pumped up, his heart and respiratory system made more efficient, I.Q. upped, his blood and immune system supercharged with pleuropotents and undifferentiated stem cells so he can heal faster than any ordinary human. I could go on.”

“Please do,” Sam said, in spite of himself truly interested. “Are you going to tell me those GQ good looks of his were artificially added as well? And how about the snark? Tell me how you made him such a bad ass.”

The Colonel's chilly smile remained in place. “Actually, 494’s looks were engineered to a point, although your mother and father’s physical appearances made a good starting template. We needed our X5s to be pretty. There’s a sociological advantage, you know. Good looking people are better accepted into society and my kids were, after all, designed to be undercover assassins. Your brother’s beauty and lady-killer charm is all part of the deadly package. But as for his attitude ...” He cocked his head, regarding Sam. “That, unfortunately, appears to have been inherited from his biological family as well. We mistakenly thought that proper training and psychological conditioning could overcome genetic tendencies toward independence and freethinking. We were wrong. No matter how hard we tried, we could never stamp that out in the X5s, and ultimately it was Manticore’s undoing.”

“You mean when Max’s group escaped?”

Lydecker nodded.

“And when Ben went nuts?”

Blue eyes narrowed quizzically. “Ah yes, Ben. You know about 493’s little exploits?”

“All about them,” Sam said. “Dean and Max told me. I only regret I never got a chance to meet my other brother.”

“Believe me, son,” Lydecker said quietly. “You’re better off never having met that little piece of psycho shit.”

“It must gall you,” Sam said, “whenever you see Dean ... 494 ... and--”

“It’s almost time you know,” Lydecker said, interrupting.

Sam’s eyes went to the clock on the wall, and his stomach tightened. “Time for what?” he asked carefully, although he already knew the answer.

“Time for 494 to check in. He’s got less than five minutes.”

“And if he doesn’t?” Sam asked, his mouth setting in a grim line.

In reply, Lydecker drew a long-bladed hunting knife from a sheaf at his waist and began testing the sharpness of its edge with his thumb.

*****

“You got a date?” Max asked with a half laugh. “You keep checking your watch.”

“I need to let Sam know where I am,” Dean lied, reaching over Max’s supine naked body to pick up his jeans from the floor. They’d retired to her bed for their second round of make-up sex but were now taking a “breather” with Max curled up beside him, her head resting on his chest, the fingers of one hand possessively cupping his balls.

She watched while he keyed in a number. “Yeah,” Dean said into the receiver. “It’s me. I’m just checkin’ in like you wanted me to.” He listened a moment. “Everything’s fine. I’m with Max. I’ll talk to you in six.” He tossed the phone aside and scooped his girl back into his arms. “You know, don’t you,” he said huskily, “I can’t give you back to Logan now. Not after this.”

“Alec ... I told you. What I have with you is one thing, but what I have with Logan is another. I know I’m being a bitch, and it’s not fair to either of you, but that’s the way it is.”

Dean drew back and looked deeply into her eyes, drawing on every ounce of empathic ability he had. “How can you go back to him after what we’ve had here today?” he asked, honestly wanting to know.

“Alec,” Max said, meeting his gaze but obviously uncomfortable. “What we have is sex and friendship. We’re family ... partners ... in a way Logan and I can never be. But--”

“Logan’s still got somethin’ I don’t,” Dean finished for her, unable to keep the bitter bite out of the words. “Although what that is I’ve never been able to figure out.”

“I can’t explain it,” Max said, seemingly truly sorry. “Logan and I are ... it’s like he represents everything you don’t ... safety ... security ... a permanent home.”

“An ordinary life.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

“Not bad ... just not us.”

“Us as in you and me?” she said.

“Us as in us transgenics,” Dean corrected her. “Max, we’re different. We don’t really belong with them. When will you finally see that?”

“That doesn’t keep you from running all over the country with Sam,” she pointed out.

She had him there. “Sam’s different,” Dean said defensively.

“How?” she challenged. “How’s your life with your brother different from me wanting to be with Logan?”

For one thing you and Logan aren’t cursed, Dean almost replied. But he didn’t want to play the supernatural card right now. The last thing he needed was Max thinking he was more obsessed than he already was. “Sam and I have a job to do,” he said. “We need to find our Dad and end this thing that’s been haunting our family ever since I was a little kid.”

“Well, I’m haunted too,” Max said defensively. “By Manticore. You’re not the only one with ghosts in your life, Alec. I need Logan with me, but I need you too.”

“For sex?” he said, the word coming out scathingly. “For this?” His hand touched her between the legs, one finger probing intimately -- and she let him.

“Yes,” Max hissed. “Damn it, yes ...”

Dean rolled over so he was on top of her, giving her what she wanted. “Where’s Logan anyway,” he grunted as he teased her with his hardness, the animal in him sensing that she was now at her most vulnerable and most likely to give him what he wanted as well -- information.

She arched her back and wrapped legs around his waist, granting complete access. “Remember Appleton?” she murmured as he began to pleasure her in earnest, for the moment unable to deny her stud anything. “He’s using the house there as his new Eyes Only headquarters.”

*****

Much later, as Max lay sleeping in his arms and the windows of her apartment grew dark, Dean remained awake, staring at the ceiling and listening to her soft breathing, his mind caught in a whirlpool of doubt and indecision. Sam’s life was at stake here, but could he kill Logan -- the man Maxie loved -- to save his brother? Could he betray Max like that after all she’d done for him?

He’d already made his second phone call -- bullshitting to Lydecker and acting like his mission was progressing -- and was well aware that time was passing rapidly. He had only two and a half days left to bring the Colonel Logan Cale’s head ... two days to save Sammy from an identical gruesome fate. Max isn’t the only one who has me by the balls ...

He’d betrayed Max twice before in his life, and in return she’d saved his life, not just once, but many times. He owed her everything, even if she had chosen another man over him in the long run. Still, they had a child together ... a bond that could never be broken. And most of all, Dean knew there was one fact that no matter how hard he tried, he could no longer deny ... not even in anger ... not even though it put Max in the path of the same deadly danger that had destroyed his mother and Sam’s girlfriend. He was in love with X5-452 -- irrevocably, helplessly, hopelessly.

He was a fool, and to admit that love might well mean Max’s doom, but damn it there was no hiding from what was in his heart.

Sam or Logan ... which one will I save?

Dean looked down at the peacefully sleeping face resting on his shoulder, and as the moon rose and it’s ghostly light brightened the dirty glass panes of the windows, he made his decision.

TO BE CONTINUED ...