Title: Devil's Gateway
Author: rachelAbendstern (aka abendstern1601, amaranth)
Characters: Alec (DA), Dean (SN), Sam (SN)
Summary: Alec gets himself into trouble (big time). And shot. Again.
Disclaimer: Still not mine. Anything you recognize from TV anyway
Spoilers: SN S3 (The Kids are alright)
Author's Note: Apologies to all those who are waiting for AWP. I rediscovered an old fandom of mine and fell in love with a new one.
This plotbunny came out of nowhere and demanded to be written. I thought, what the hell, after about a year of inactivity, I can use the practice...
Also, I never noticed how often I use words like 'damn' and 'hell' to describe things until I made a conscious effort to avoid them. Dean and Alec still have potty mouths though =)
For those not familiar with SN and/or DA visit my profile for a link (I tried putting it here, but the d***editor wouldn't let me).

I don't think this counts as crack, but I did try for some levity.

.

.

Prelude

~ A small clearing in the woods outside of Seattle, December 30th, 2020 ~

.

'Shit!'

The word reverberated soundly in Alec's mind before he gave in to the urge and cursed out loud.

"Shit!"

Clutching at his bleeding shoulder, shot – once again – only a second ago, the transgenic ducked behind the relative safety of a small rock formation. The stones, both taller than Alec himself by about three feet and a little under four feet wide, created a rough v-shape with their broad sides, which the young man now used as a shelter. The narrow side of the v held an opening just broad enough for Alec to walk through without brushing his shoulders against the rocks. The monoliths, completely out of place in the part of the woods in which they were situated, stood like silent sentries over the little clearing where Alec's deal was supposed to have taken place.

Letting go of his injury, Alec pulled his own .45 from the waistband of his cargo pants and cautiously took a peek around his hide-away.

This latest supply run for Terminal City was starting to turn out less than successful. He really should have listened to Mole when the lizard man (part of Manticore's desert acclimated combat units) told him that, no matter how easy it sounded, no supply run was a one-man-job. Unless, of course, they had to go for stealth rather than safety. But right now, back-up would have been nice.

Instead, he was in the forest outside of Seattle by himself, trapped like a fox in his kennel. Watching as his supplier fought out a turf war with one of his rivals in this no-man's-land, while the small black van which was filled front to rear with some much needed medical equipment and medicinal drugs was parked on the opposite side of the little clearing. Well beyond his reach, while there were still bullets flying around.

Ducking behind the rocks once more, Alec leaned back against the cold stone and settled in for a hopefully short wait. That wasn't his war going on, and he had no desire to be shot at. Again. Whoever got out on top, maybe they were still willing to deal so that Alec could go home where he was needed in his own war zone.

The coldness of the stone slowly soaked through his padded cord jacket. It had the young man shifting uncomfortably. While the X5-series, like most any other X-series among the transgenics, was built with a higher than average tolerance for low temperatures, that didn't mean X5-494 – or 'Alec' as he had been dubbed by a fellow X5, Max, shortly before she set the whole of the transgenic race loose on the world – particularly enjoyed being in the cold. It didn't help that it had been raining pretty much all through the holidays and up to this morning.

Clucking his tongue, Alec paid half a mind to the sounds of his surroundings.

There were still shots being fired.

He blew out a breath, drawing it out to watch it turn into mist in the frigid air.

The sound of a fresh clip being slid into an MP made it to his ears.

He tried to make bubbles with his spit.

It didn't work, of course, but the soft sound of them popping was a nice distraction from the shouts behind his back.

He tapped out the rhythm of a song he heard this morning with the butt of his gun against the stone.

Honestly, how long did it take ordinaries to kill each other?

A momentary lull in the racket made him poke his head around his sanctuary hopefully. Really, he should have known better.

The sound of another shot and a bullet grazing the stony surface only centimeters above his head had him stumbling backwards. Alec grappled for a grip on the frozen over stones on either side of him before he lost his balance, but he slipped and crashed – painfully – on his butt. Outside the safety of the stones.

'Figures.'

If Max ever found out, she wouldn't let him hear the end of this...

.

to be continued...

.

.

FirstBorn: Thanks for reminding me -_-; This was supposed to be up a few days ago...