It's in the Genes
Author: Cheryl W.
Disclaimer: I do not own any characters or any rights to Dark Angel or Supernatural, nor am I making any profit from this story.
Summary: Crossover with DA and Supernatural -AU– It's the Winchesters who break Alec from jail in Hello/Goodbye and then they start road tripping together. No slash.
Author's Notes: This is set during the DA's Hello/Goodbye and SN's 3rd season prior to finale. It's AU and set in our time now, no pulse but there is a Terminal City. It really ends up being a bunch of drama and harm/comfort scenes I wanted to see the three boys share.
Bobby sighed and rubbed his hand over his eyes and let the picture he held float to the table. "Kid needs this news like he needs a hole in the head, Ellen," he said into the phone.
"Yeah, I know," true regret and worry coming across clear in Ellen's voice, "but I didn't want him in the dark."
"No, you did the right thing. Thank your source."
"My source owes Dean this and a lot more. Let me know if there's anything I can do to help, Bobby. Take care of yourself and those boys." Her tone switching from anger, to motherly concern to command as she disconnected the call.
"Yeah, leave me the easy task," Bobby muttered as he hit the speed dial for Dean Winchester.
Opening the motel door to see Bobby's usually unreadable features sparking with apprehension, Sam found his own muscles tightening up. "You made good time," he said, opening the door wider and stepping aside so Bobby could enter the motel room, his words a question all in themselves.
A question Bobby didn't answer, asked his own instead, "Where's Dean?" easily detecting that the elder Winchester wasn't in the room's small square footage.
"We didn't expect you yet tonight," Sam said in a way of reply, shutting the door and crossing over to turn the tv off, his back to Bobby.
"Bar, right?" Bobby guessed, saw the minuscule tightening in Sam's back before it disappeared.
Turning around, Sam opened his mouth but the click of the door opening stole his attention.
Sauntering into the room, Dean gave Bobby an assessing look. "The news is that bad, huh?"
"Depends on your interpretation," Bobby hedged. "Can I sit down or do I have to do this like some ad campaign presentation?"
Pulling his left hand from behind his back, Dean brandished a whiskey bottle. "Figured if you were bringing crappy news I'ld supply the whiskey."
Bobby couldn't help but chuckle and smile, "Guess something I taught you stuck."
Sitting around the small kitchenette table, drinks in hand, the three hunters eyed each other, a particular expression passing between the brothers before Bobby began speaking.
"Out in Seattle there was this military science program going on," Bobby's eyes slid from Dean's to Sam's and back to Dean's. Seeing no light of recognition on the topic, he continued. "They were out to make the perfect soldier through gene splicing….cloning…" his eyes holding Dean's steadily.
"Cause messing with nature always turns out so well. Like there's a large market for two headed cats," Dean sneered and Bobby nearly flinched at his cat reference.
Pulling on the brim of his hat, Bobby shuffled in his seat.
"What's this have to do with us?" Sam asked, wanting to cut through the baiting of the hook, always wanted to know the answer before the full question was asked.
"These soldiers, they look human, are human except they have enhanced speed, strength and senses. They were deployed on some of the nation's top secret missions: terrorism, kidnapping, assassinations," he listed, pointedly did not say they stopped assassinations. "Were the go-to units if the crap was hitting the fan."
"Were?" Dean asked, eyes narrowing, sensing with dread that Bobby's point was suddenly coming too fast.
"Program fell apart about three months back when the kids revolted."
"Kids? They were using kids?" Sam inquired, face taking on concern.
Turning to Sam, Bobby countered, "Raised them…bred them, engineered them. All they ever knew was Manticore."
"Manticore?" Dean repeated sharply, brow furrowing as memory surfaced, an unpleasant memory at that.
Almost wishing Dean hadn't made any connection to Manticore, Bobby slipped the file from his coat, laid it on the table, kept his hand firmly over the cover. "Name sound familiar to you?" he asked with intensity.
Dean sank back in his seat, eyes unflinchingly on Bobby's. "One of Dad's contacts….he worked there."
"Who?" Sam posed the question Bobby hadn't wanted to, his eyes on his brother's tense frame.
"Lydecker," Dean confidently supplied, his eyes never leaving Bobby's, a challenge in their now cold depths. "Tell me what any of this has to do with us. We don't clean up the government's screwed up experiments."
Bobby cringed internally, found himself defending something/someone he had previously condemned. Giving a sarcastic laugh, he charged, "I don't think saving over two hundred lives on unit missions and solo missions can be considered screwing up. His combat skills were the top in his series, and believe me that's saying a lot. Plus they never could quite break him, though they gave their best try, time and time again. But the kid wouldn't just blindly follow orders, not if they went against his own code."
"Him who?" Dean demanded, feeling at the end of his patience for Bobby's pansy footing around the real issue.
"They must have gotten some of your DNA somehow…" Bobby gently said, sliding the folder toward Dean.
"My DNA?" Dean incredulously repeated, didn't like the look of sympathy in Bobby's eyes or the implications his brain was already coming up with. Not one to back down from adversity or crappy luck, Dean flicked the file open, eyes skimming over the armed forces like report, seeing the name was listed only as "X5 -494" and "Donor unknown" where a family history would be listed. Skimmed down the achievements…and the subsequent medical bio with words like "Psy-Ops", "weakness" "high tolerance" "Emotional inconsistencies" and a list of injuries that anyone but Dean would have found inconceivable to tally up in one body.
Somehow knowing that the worst was yet to come, Dean steeled himself before he flicked the page over but his breath caught in his chest all the same. There staring up from a 8 x 10 glossy picture was a younger version of himself, sporting a hairstyle and a lighter color that he had worn at that age. Eyes flying up to Bobby's worried gaze, he bit out, "You're friggin' joking, right?"
"What?" Sam said leaning over the table trying to look at the file that had his usually unflappable brother, flustered. Dean slid the folder around, let Sam see the picture..of him…but not of him. Watched his brother's eyes widen in surprise and shoot up to his.
Both turning to Bobby, Dean groused, "I know I got a "one in a million" kind of face but having that shapeshifter and now this…experiment parading around with it? Man, that's just overkill!"
"Two experim..…soldiers," Bobby corrected Dean and himself. "There was a second clone."
"Two! And they are really clones of Dean?!" Sam demanded, beginning to rifle through the file more closely.
"Clones, gene replicas, whatever. And the other one's dead." This earned Bobby their full attention and he could read their question. "Apparently he escaped Manticore when he was a kid but something short circuited with him and he went on a killing spree. He was killed when Manticore was tracking him to return him to the base."
"Oh, that's cheery," Dean grumbled. "So not only do I have a shapeshifter turning me into a serial killer but I also got some body counts tacked on now by my loco clone."
"According to the file, Manticore covered up the murders and so the cops never had any suspects to the crimes…until now," his last words full of meaning.
"So what, now I'm wanted in Seattle too. Heck, let's just make it all the continental United States and call it a day," Dean offhandedly shot back, sitting back in his seat as if none of it phased him.
But Sam wasn't as laid back with his brother facing the death penalty. "What evidence do they have on Dean?"
"On Dean? Besides his uncanny resemblance….nothing," Bobby answered slowly, earning him confused looks from the brothers. "On the other clone..X5-494…DNA that's a perfect match."
"So they're out hunting for this other Dean.." Sam threw a look to Dean. "I mean other clone…"
"Thanks," Dean grumbled shaking his head at Sam's lumping him in with some military experimental GI Joe drone. "So I just need to keep my head down, skip Seattle and let 'em waste their resources tracking down the other bozo."
"Don't need to track him down. He's in custody," Bobby stated, wondering where this revelation would take them. Felt the air stop in the room. "Most likely he'll get the death penalty."
Sam closed the folder, looked to Dean who was holding Bobby's gaze steadily. He winced at the raw tone of Dean's voice when he spoke.
Tapping the folder, Dean said, "This kid. He's going to take the fall for his Manson twin's actions?"
"Looks like it. Just thought you should know," Bobby tacked on, not wanting to imply Dean needed to do anything, had to take on saving any more people than he did on a regular basis. Should feel obligated to rescue this "clone" wearing his face, sporting his smirk, facing a fate that he nearly had in Baltimore.
Shooting a nervous look to Dean, Sam faced Bobby, "Thanks. We'll keep a lower profile on the west coast," his words clearly saying that he cared about protecting Dean, his brother more then he gave a crap about some scientific knockoff of Dean getting executed.
But Dean's masked expression shifted from Sam's gaze to Bobby's. "Where are they holding him?" he quietly asked.
Before Bobby could reply Sam cut in, anger and frustration and fear mixing in his tone, "Who cares Dean! Maybe this could get the heat off you for St. Louis too."
Turning dangerous eyes onto Sam, Dean growled, "So what?! I'm supposed to let more people die for me, Sam. Like Marshall Hall, Layla, Dad?"
"Dad made his own choice Dean! And you had no control over what happened to Marshall Hall and Roy picked you over Layla," Sam thundered, hating that Dean forced himself to bare guilt that wasn't his.
"Yeah and I have a choice now, Sam. I choose to not let some kid take the fall for something he didn't do, something his evil twin did…or something I did."
"You didn't do anything Dean!" Sam refuted but Dean cut in.
"You're right, I didn't. I let the shifter take away my name, away my chances of having Dean Winchester engraved on my real tombstone, of having an obit that someone might read and say, hey that's the guy that saved my life once upon a time. All that, it's gone. But this kid, he shouldn't have to pay for murders he never did…in Seattle or St. Louis."
"Dean.." Sam began like a plea because it hurt, thinking of tombstones, obituaries, the fast approaching expiration of Dean's deal.
"We're going," Dean snapped, getting up from the table and heading out the door.
Bobby watched as Sam clenched his jaw and clutched tightly to the folder as they both heard the Impala rumble to life before bounding from the parking lot. When Sam faced Bobby, fury emanated from him. "Why did you have to tell him?! You knew he wouldn't let it go!"
Honestly I was going to post this under DA but wasn't sure if there was an audience for it there…not sure if there's any interest here at SN..So If you're interested in hearing more, please let me know. I've learned that I can write without encouragement…but I'm not going to waste my time or anyone else's posting in a vacuum.
And those wishing I was updating "Designated Driver"… I'm working on it I promise but this plot bunny kidnapped me on my way to the race track.
Have a wonderful day!