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Artwork courtesy of Valjean & JensenAcklesFans.com

Execute
By Valjean

*****

“Well,” Dean finally said as Sam steered the Impala out of the small midwest town where they’d just made such an impression, “that was embarrassing.” He looked the younger man up and down, real concern in his eyes. “Tell me I didn’t do that?” he added, nodding at the huge bruise and still-bleeding cut on Sam’s right cheek.

“I’d be lying,” Sam said tiredly. “Yeah, you cleaned my clock, and the clocks of about a dozen and a half locals. You don’t remember anything at all?”

“Nada,” Dean said. “Anybody dead?” he added, his voice dropping an octave.

“Probably,” Sam returned harshly.

The X5 looked away, out the window.

“But maybe not,” Sam continued in a more gentle tone. “From what I could see, most of the guys you tossed around were still moving. He glanced in the rear view mirror. “At least we may have made a clean getaway. And I managed to get our stuff out of the hotel room.”

“Sam, what the hell happened to me? That was no seizure. And I wasn’t drunk.”

Sam shrugged. “Beats me, Dean. You just went all Terminator. It’s like ...”

“Like what?”

“Like suddenly you weren’t home any more ... like it wasn’t you.”

“You think I was possessed?” Dean asked, unable to keep the fear out of his voice. “You think it was our demon friend playin’ tricks? Because if it can get to me that easy it--”

“I said I don’t know,” Sam replied sternly as he steered through the rain-slick night on the nearly empty freeway. “Let’s not jump to conclusions. It really looked like ... like you were kind of empty. There wasn’t anyone else looking out of your eyes, rather no one.”

“Manticore then?”

“The way you were fighting sure was superhuman,” Sam said, his mouth pressing into a grim line. “And that guy who stopped you ... whoever he was ... he knew just the right thing to say. Dean, you turned off like he flipped a switch.” He finally looked over at his brother. “Was that part of your Manticore conditioning?”

Dean shrugged. “They messed with my mind a lot,” he admitted. “And there are things I don’t remember ... don’t wanna remember. They had ways of makin’ you forget, even when you didn’t want to.” He shivered. “There was subliminal shit ... secret codes ... safe words ... I never thought they’d done that to me, but now I’m not so sure.”

“Absem. Brannick. Carthage.”

“What?”

Sam was staring at him. “Absem. Brannick. Carthage.”

“What?”

“That’s what that man said to you in the bar that made you drop. Does it mean anything to you?”

Dean shook his head, a perplexed look in his eyes. “It doesn’t even make sense.”

“Well, if it’s a secret code it’s not like Manticore would use something you’d be likely to hear every day. You sure you don’t feel even a little bit sleepy?” Sam added, sounding hopeful.

Dean smirked. “It may only work once, or only if my subliminal trigger has been pulled.”

“Well, whoever it was in that bar with us sure knew exactly what to do,” Sam said worriedly. “And worse, it means Manticore knows not only that you’re alive and in the U.S., but exactly where you are. But what I don’t understand is, if your handler was on the spot to whisper those little words in your ear, why didn’t he take you clear down and haul your ass away to military prison?”

“Good question,” Dean said quietly. “If it was Manticore.”

“Who else could it have been?” Sam asked. “Who else would know that you have your own personal shutdown code?”

“Dad,” Dean said simply. “Maybe it was Dad, lookin’ out for me. Maybe Manticore gave him those code words a long time ago, a safety for when I was home on those summer visits in case the animal part of me got away and I turned on the two of you.” Off Sam’s astonished look, Dean held up his hands defensively. “Hey, I’m just repeatin’ what ‘Deck always used to say -- that I wasn’t exactly the boy next door.”

Sam stared at his brother for a moment longer, then turned his eyes back to the road. “Then why not just come up and talk to us?” he said bitterly. “Why all the secrecy?”

“Dad would have his reasons.”

“Yeah, well I sure as hell don’t like it,” Sam spat. “You know, don’t you, that we have to find out what got to you. You could have killed a lot of people in there. In fact, if you hadn’t been shut down you probably would have killed me.”

“I know,” Dean said quietly. And since it’s probably a Manticore thing, it means I head home.”

“Home?”

“To Max,” Dean clarified, smiling a little bit.

*****

“I am so glad to see you,” Max said simply, greeting her “brother” with a huge hug as soon as Dean climbed out of the driver’s side of the car. It had been a long haul to the Washington State/Canadian border from Omaha, but they’d made it in under 24 hours.

Dean set her back with an impish grin, not quite certain why he deserved such a welcome. But then his eyes rose, riveting on the toddler running on chubby little legs down the cabin’s dirt path. “Daddy!” Brac shrieked at the top of his little boy lungs.

Eyes unexpectedly filling with tears, Dean sniffed loudly and knelt to scoop his son up in his arms. Hugging him tightly, inhaling his offspring’s scent, he then turned grateful eyes on Max. “Thank you,” he said simply, both of them knowing what he was referring to. One of the X5’s deepest fears had been that Brac would grow up not realizing who his real father was, or worse, thinking it was Logan. Obviously, Max wasn’t going to let that happen.

“Hi there, kiddo,” Sam said, smiling at his nephew as he gave the hazel-eyed little boy a high-five. “I’m your Uncle Sam by the way.”

“Uncle Sammy,” the child said with a laugh.

“He’s already got you pegged, Sammy,” Dean smirked.

“It’s Sam,” Sam groused good naturedly as the three walked back up the path to the cabin where O.C. was waiting in the doorway, wiping her hands on a dish towel.

“Hey there, supersoldier boy,” the black girl said. “How’s life been treatin’ you?”

“Like it wants me dead,” Dean said honestly. “Max,” he said, turning to his mate. “What the hell’s goin’ on with me?” Glancing around the cabin, he couldn’t help but nod his head with approval. This place was nice ... roughhewn furniture ... hunter-motif decor ... complete with a braid rug spread out in front of a hearth that currently held a nice big crackling fire. (He could easily picture himself and Max lying naked on that rug ... making love ...) The kitchen area was in the back, and the two other doors presumably led to bedrooms.

“It’s not just you,” Max said grimly, taking Brac from his daddy and handing him over to O.C. Then she turned to a computer station that took up one corner of the cozy living room. “I’ve been in touch with Dix.” She pressed a button and a simulation of a television picture began to run. “Look at this,” she said, cueing a different mode. Gradually the picture on the screen began to fade until you could see that there was something else underlying it ... a series of numbers streaming rapidly ... a code.

“What the hell’s that?” Dean asked, scowling as Sam looked intently over his shoulder.

“Subliminal,” Max said simply. She looked up at him, brown eyes wide and worried. “It’s a command, Alec. Individualized. For X5’s.”

Dean involuntarily took a step back and averted his eyes.

“Don’t worry,” Max said. “This one was aimed at X5-588. You remember him, don’t you? Tim from back at Terminal City?”

Dean nodded.

“This ran a few weeks ago nationwide on all channels for almost three days,” she continued. “Tim went berserk in a bus station in Houston and was shot and killed by the police.”

“Whoa,” Sam said softly. He glanced at Dean.

“And mine was running last Wednesday,” Dean said, stating the obvious.

“My code’s been up as well,” Max confessed. “At least according to Dix. Whoever’s doing this is rotating them. But up here we don’t watch a lot of television. Still ...” She glanced toward O.C. where she was getting Brac a snack in the kitchen. “It scares the hell out of me what could have happened if my command had been executed.”

“Like mine was in that bar,” Dean said. “I nearly killed Sam. Max, I swear, it’s like I didn’t even know who he was. And ... I can’t remember any of it.” He thought a moment. “If you’ve got a code too, that means this was done to us real early by Manticore. You escaped at what? Age nine?”

Max nodded.

“You know, don’t you,” Dean said, “that there’s an off switch for this thing.”

She looked at him sharply and Sam elaborated. “I’d be dead now if someone hadn’t come up to Dean in that bar and said three words. He instantly dropped on the floor -- like he said, turned off.”

“Only someone from Manticore would have known those words,” Dean said. “But what I don’t understand is why are they running this ... why now?”

“Isn’t it obvious,” Sam said, speaking slowly as if to a dimwit. “The government’s had a mandate out for weeks now that all Manticore survivors are to either surrender or be destroyed. This is the perfect way of flushing out the remaining X5s. Run a code nationally that will make them go berserk ... blow their cover. Then swoop in and either kill or capture them.”

“Do we know the source?” Dean asked quietly.

“Only that it’s someone with a great deal of experience at running national broadcasts that can’t be traced,” Max said, not even trying to disguise the irony in her voice.

Dean scowled. “You really think Logan’s behind it? How would he even have the codes? And why? This would hurt you too, not just me.”

Max just looked at him.

“The data base,” Dean said simply.

Max swallowed hard and looked away. “I didn’t want to think the worst about him,” she finally said. “But there’s been other stuff too. He tried to give me a whole lot of money a couple of weeks ago but I turned him down. He keeps asking if he can come and visit me up here, but I’ve told him it’s too dangerous. I ... I don’t know how much longer I can stall him. Sooner or later he’s going to realize that I’ve--”

“You’ve what?” Dean asked softly, stepping closer to her.

“That I’ve made my choice,” Max said, throwing herself into his arms. “And for that he’ll destroy you,” she whispered, speaking the words against the soft cotton of his black t-shirt. She looked up into his eyes. “Don’t you understand? It’s already begun. Logan’s working with the enemy now to bring all of us down.”

*****

“There’s something I don’t understand,” Sam said as they sat on the couch half an hour later sipping coffee and polishing off a plate of sandwiches. “If Logan loves Max, why would he include her code in those that are running on the airwaves?”

“Maybe he doesn’t understand all of what he has?” Dean guessed. “He might just have a batch of those programs and he’s been running them one-by-one, hoping to catch what fish he can.” He set down a half-eaten lunch meat sandwich and turned to Max. “But Logan knows you’re up here, doesn’t he?”

She nodded.

“So, theoretically, he could have blown your cover to Manticore at any time?”

Again a nod. “What are you getting at?”

“What I’m getting at is that Logan-boy still hasn’t given up on you, which is what’s going to buy us time.”

“Time for what?” Sam asked, shaking his head. “Dean, we’ve all got to get out of here. The safest place for us is still moving ... on the road.”

“Not for Max and Brac!” Dean said angrily, getting to his feet and beginning to pace. “Sam, you know what kinds of things we face almost every day. It’s no place for a girl I--” He hesitated.

“A girl you love?” Sam supplied. Then he smiled. “I think that horse has already left the barn, Dean. You can say it out loud. Max won’t mind.”

“Exactly,” Dean agreed, ducking his head in embarrassment as he caught Max grinning at him. “What got Mom and Jess would logically come after her too -- at any moment. It’s the same old story I’ve been preachin’. So long as I’m around Max she’s in danger.”

“But she’s also in danger here,” Sam pointed out.

“You anglin’ for a threesome, brother?” Dean said tersely. “What? You think she should come on the road with us? And what about Brac? We gonna pack diapers too?”

“Brac’s been potty trained for two years,” Max pointed out. Then she sighed. “We can’t stay here,” she said. “But I’m not going to take a toddler on a permanent road trip either. Brac, O.C. and me ... we’ll find someplace else to hide. The guys will help. Dix has connections.”

Dean looked toward the ceiling as if seeking Divine help.

“Like you once said,” Sam said tiredly. “We’re not exactly the Brady’s.” Then he took pity on his older sibling. “Don’t worry, Dean. We’ll figure something out ... some way to protect our family. We always do.”

“But that's the problem, Sam,” Dean replied quietly. “We really don't..” He didn't have to say Jess (or Mom) out loud.

*****

Dean slept with Max that night ... in her bed. Sam had the couch and O.C. had taken Brac into her room so the couple would have some privacy. It was just like old times, Dean thought ... as if he’d never been away ... him and Max ... partners ... lovers ... Later, after they’d both worked off the hottest part of their passion, they lay naked in each other’s arms, Dean holding Max from behind with one leg possessively hooked over her body. “You know who it really is, don’t you,” Max said in the dark. She turned to look at him, cat pupils wide. “You know who really started all of this?”

“Logan,” Dean said. “We already decided it has to be Logan. He’s the one with the info and the tech to get the signal out.”

“But I don’t think he would have known what those codes meant unless someone told him,” Max insisted as his hand cupped her breast and he began to plant gentle kisses on her bar code. “It has to be someone who knows we were programmed as children to execute a kill command when fed the subliminal message.”

“You mean Lydecker,” Dean said. The thought had already crossed his mind. In fact, ‘Deck had been his first choice as villain, even before Logan. “So, the Colonel and your old boyfriend are workin’ together on this ... to bring down X5’s?”

Max shrugged. “Maybe,” she conceded, turning over so she could look into his eyes. “And if those two are combining forces we could really be in trouble.”

“Max, I can’t do anything about all of this unless you want me to kill Logan.”

“No,” she said too quickly, in a way that made Dean’s heart skip a beat. “No. Logan and I ... we’re not together any more but I could never--”

“Stop,” Dean said quietly, brushing her lips with his. “I know. We’ll get out of this some other way.” For a few minutes his mouth was very busy, as were Max’s hands. It was so easy ... sliding in ... coming together ... being one ... Several minutes passed while they copulated ... climaxed ... came down.

“I’ll take Brac to Canada,” Max whispered in his ear as she ran hands through his hair and pressed her sweaty breasts against his chest a few minutes later. “You and Sam could come with us.”

“Sam and I have to find Dad,” Dean reminded her. “I think it must have been him in the bar, the one who snapped me out of it. But don’t worry. We’re not easy to catch.”

“What if they run the messages again?” Max said worriedly. “I can stay away from televisions, but you might see the signal anywhere.”

“I’m not gonna give up TV,” Dean snorted. He rested his chin on top of her head, in her hair, and scowled. “But maybe it won’t matter anyway.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’ll show you in the morning,” he said enigmatically as he once again began to kiss his way down her face ... her throat ... her breasts. He found a nipple ... suckled ... and her hand clasped him, guiding him home.

“Tell me,” she gasped as his thrust filled her.

“And they called me high verbal,” Dean groused as he began to pleasure her in earnest once again.

“But--”

“Shut up.”

And for once in her life, Max did.

*****

“Dean,” Sam said nervously. “This could be a very bad idea. I mean really, really bad.”

“It’s the only way I’ll know if I’m free,” his brother said simply, taking up a stance in front of Max’s computer screen. “You ready, Dix?” he spoke into the mic.

“Ready to role,” Dix replied from the other end of the connection.

“You got those safe words?” Max said nervously. “’Cause I really don’t wanna hafta bust the ass of my baby’s daddy.”

Sam took a deep breath. “Ready. O.C. and Brac out in the car?”

“Check,” Max said.

“Then let’s rock,” Dean said, clenching his jaw slightly as the computer screen flickered and the tape began running a deodorant commercial that lead into the Knicks game two nights ago. The shot on goal came ... the one he’d been watching in the bar.”

“Is the subliminal code running?” Max asked into the mic.

“Full throttle,” Dix’s voice replied. “Is Alec being affected?”

“No,” Sam answered as his eyes remained intently fixed on his brother. “You all right, Dean?”

“I’m fine,” Dean said, licking his lips.

“Maybe it won’t work if he knows?” Sam offered.

Max shrugged as she, too, stared at the screen. “Anything?” she asked quietly.

“Doesn’t do it for me,” Dean replied, finally cracking a small smile as his eyebrows rose and he glanced over at her.

“So, that means he’s over it?” Sam asked. “Or does it just mean that if he’s expecting it, it doesn’t work?”

“It means he’s over it,” Dix’s voice chortled from the mic. “Guys, the message wasn’t running in the game this time. It was in that commercial before it. If that didn’t trigger Alec, then I’d say it was a one-time deal that lost its power over him when he realized the program was present in his head.”

Dean said something nasty under his breath, but at the same time gave a deep sigh of relief. “Dix, you’re playin’ a dangerous game, my man,” he scolded.

Sam, with a hint of tears in his eyes, took a pistol out of his jacket pocket and put the safety back on. Dean stared at the gun, his own eyes widening. “You were gonna shoot me?”

“Only as a last resort,” his brother said. “Only if the safe words didn’t work.”

“Well, gee,” Dean said dryly. “Thanks ... I guess.”

“Others are going to get caught by this,” Max said sadly as the two guys headed for the car a few minutes later. “We’ve already lost so many. It’s a shame. We need to warn the X5s, but I don’t know how.”

“You have no way of contacting your people?” Sam asked.

“Some,” Max conceded. “But we decided it would be too dangerous to have a tight network of communications. Everything kind of trickles down. How can I tell my family they shouldn’t watch TV or listen to the radio or go to the movies?”

“If you can’t figure out how, then more of us are gonna die,” Dean said tiredly. “And more ordinaries, too. Dix said the only reason my little ... episode ... didn’t make national headlines was ‘cause no one was killed in that bar. It easily could have made the nightly news.”

“You think anyone noticed?” Sam asked anxiously.

Dean shrugged. “Does it matter? We were long gone within minutes. What does matter is that Max and Brac and O.C. find a safe place out of the country while you and I get back on the road to keep lookin’ for Dad, not to mention keepin’ up the family business.”

“Family business?” Max asked with a quizzical smile.

“Ghost busting,” Sam clarified for her. “Dean’s decided it’s his calling.”

“You mean our calling, little brother,” his older sibling chided.

“Our calling,” Sam agreed as he climbed into the passenger side of the Impala and Dean started car.

“You’ll let me know when you get settled?” Dean said, raising his voice to be heard above the throaty idle of the big engine.

“Soon as,” Max said.

Dean gave the door of the car a pat, then waved as he pulled out onto the dirt driveway. “Love you!” he heard her call after him. And he smiled.

THE END