lyl_devil | FIC: Familia Infortunium - 2/2

Title: Familia Infortunium (2/2)
Author: lyl (

lyl_devil)
Fandom: Dark Angel, Supernatural
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: I don't own either show, I just like to play in their sandboxes.
Spoilers: DA – after Freak Nation, SPN – mid-season 3-ish.
Beta:

strangevisitor7
Words: ~2900
Summary: A voice from the past changes everything in Terminal City.

Part 1

~!~

The screen was black for an eternity, or a few seconds, depending on your point of view. When the video started to play, Alec wasn't sure whether to be happy or freaked by the image on the screen. He was just like Alec remembered him from the last time he'd seen Sam; dark hair just a tad too long, face aged and scarred from his time before Manticore, eyes old and intelligent and kind. Alec noted the familiar background, and guessed that Sam had recorded this in his room at Manticore.

“Hey there, 494,” said the older man, smiling in a most familiar way. “It's been awhile since we've seen each other – well for you.” Alec's eyes flicked to the time stamp in the corner, and realized that this was the night, or morning, of Sam's disappearance. “For me, it's been about three hours since I've seen you.”

“I was hoping I'd never have to make this recording, that all my preparations were just me being paranoid, but part of me knew this day would come.” Alec saw the sad twitch to his lips and got a bad feeling. “I keep telling myself that I should have been more careful, more paranoid, and maybe I could have avoided all this. But what's done is done, and all anyone can do is live with the consequences.”

Alec watched him take a deep breath as he looked away from the camera for a moment.

“I feel the need to apologize for what I'm about to do, because no one deserves the burden I’m about to share, but we don't always have a choice in the matter. I also want to apologize for disappearing on you and the others. I never wanted to leave without at least a good-bye and some sort of explanation, but circumstances have forced my hand.”

“Someone saw us in the gym last night, and they've started asking questions. Questions I have no intention of answering for reasons I think you can understand.” Alec had never understood the phrase 'blood ran cold' until now, because it seemed as if the very blood in his veins had frozen solid.

A murmur of anxiety flowed through the room around him, and he wasn't surprised. Sam had been different in many ways. He'd been smart and friendly and welcoming, but he'd also been faster and stronger than any human had a right to be. The rumours had flown fast and free among the transgenics, claiming Sam was another experiment, super human or just plain freaky. Whatever it had been, the transgenics had kept his secret. It had become obvious that no one else knew he was different, so they kept quiet; Sam had had enough problems with the other guards and staff without adding weird abilities to the mix. It would also have guaranteed him a one way trip to the research wing, which none of them had wanted. So they had started to protect him as Sam protected them.

Sam became an adopted transgenic. He'd also become Alec's favourite sparring partner, because despite superior training, strength and reflexes, it had taken him years to be able to beat Sam in hand-to-hand. Their late night matches were where both of them could let loose, neither holding back. It had been an open secret among the transgenics that Sam would train them in fighting dirty, and they all knew that Alec had been with him the night he went missing.

“I wish I could explain this to you in person, but I honestly don't know if I'll ever see any of you again. The fact is, I'm getting too old to run around the country, changing cars and aliases in every town, watching my back every second, never resting. I've been doing it my entire life, and frankly, I'm tired.” Alec watched a wistful smile cross his lips for an instant before it was gone. “Funny, I finally get what Dean was talking about, it just took me a little longer.”

Alec wanted to yell at the screen, demand to know what he meant by all that, but it was just a recording, made almost two years ago.

“Actually, Dean's why I'm here.” In the video, Sam had picked up a photo and was looking at it with a sad expression on his face. “Dean was my big brother. He was the only constant my entire life. He was always there for me from the time I was a baby – carried me out of our burning house when I was six months old. Dean took care of me when our Dad would leave us in some rat trap motel for days on end; he was there when Dad started training us to fight and hunt, and he let me go when I left for college and 'normal', though he fought me tooth and nail. He was my big brother and I would have gone to the ends of the earth for him, just like he would for me. He saved my life more times than I care to think of , and in the end, he gave up his life – his very soul – to keep me alive.”

“And he left me to fight a war on my own.” Sam's voice had gone hard at this, and it was a tone Alec and most of those around him understood – the voice of someone who had seen combat and death and lived to tell the tale. “That's the only thing that kept me going afterwards, the knowledge that Dean would kick my ass if I gave up. So I kept fighting and killing in a war that had been in the works since before I was born. A war I was sure we would never win. Guess I was wrong. We actually did win, sort of, though not how any of us would have liked. Their last strike, the last desperate attempt to wring some sort of victory out of the bloodbath they were carving around the country, ended up killing them.”

“They were the ones who set off the Pulse, hoping for what...I'm not sure. But it ended up destroying them and ending the war that no one knew about.” Alec didn't know what to say or think at this, not sure whether he believed him or not. His logical mind told him that history had never written anything about a war in the US, but then again, history also didn't say anything about genetically engineered super soldiers solidifying the Soviet Union back into its former glory.

“That's when I heard about Manticore. I wasn't planning to do what I did. I had already given so much to save people who would rather kill me than acknowledge my existence -- I just wanted to create a life for myself. But then I found out about you, 494, and I knew I couldn't turn away.”

Alec watched as he played with the edges of the photograph in his hand, and wondered what was so fascinating about it. He got his wish sooner than he would have liked.

“You see, 494, you're about as close to family as I have left,” said Sam, turning the picture to the camera. Alec felt the breath catch in his throat, and heard a mumbling start throughout the room. He was vaguely aware of someone asking him a question, but couldn't hear anything but the roaring in his ears.

The picture showed a younger Sam – about fifteen to twenty years younger – sitting on the hood of a black car, shoulder to shoulder with a slightly older version of Alec.

“That's Dean,” Sam explained unnecessarily. “I don't know when they got a sample of his DNA, but it was probably in the early 1980's. My best guess is that when Manticore went on a DNA recruiting drive, they found the perfect candidate in Dean. Dad was an ex-Special Forces Marine, and Mom was... well, she was special. They obviously got to Dean before I was born, or else there would be a version of me there with you. I've scoured through Manticore's records enough over the last years to know that they weren't hiding that.”

“You're so much like him, 494, that it freaked me out for a while,” Sam said wistfully, voice soft. He gave a quiet laugh, “Guess you're proof that the attitude is genetic.”

Alec focused on his breathing, trying to absorb everything he was hearing. He could try and deal with it all later, but he needed to get through this recording first. Though in retrospect it made a weird sort of sense. He'd always felt a strange kinship with Sam Winchester, though he'd put it down to instincts and Sam being a nice guy. Finding out that he was the weird genetic hybrid of Sam's dead brother was disconcerting, but he focused on the important part. He had family out there; family who knew what he was and still claimed him.

“But that's not the reason I'm making this recording. I have to--”

Alec froze when Sam stopped talking, his pulse starting to speed up when Sam's head turned to the side. The room as a whole watched with bated breath as Sam rose from his seated position and backed away, out of the camera's line of sight. There were some shuffling noises before he crossed back in front of the camera, knife in one hand. The silence of the recording was broken by the sounds of Manticore guards demanding entrance to the room.

There wasn't much talk after that, only the sounds of fighting, but Alec could easily picture the scene in his head. Waiting until they open the door themselves and came at least partially into the room, use surprise to get the first, maybe the second. Then it was pure instinct and the willingness to survive at all costs. No gun shots were heard, so Alec assumed it was all hand-to-hand. A body went flying across the camera's field of view, and for one heart stopping second Alec thought it was Sam, but reason told him that if Manticore had caught – or killed – Sam, they wouldn't have sent out a statewide manhunt to search for him. Also, who would have hidden the box that held this recording?

He was proven right less than a minute later as Sam crossed the screen, knife held in an experienced grip. Then he was bending over the downed guard, and a familiar arm movement let him know why some of the guards were never seen again. Alec couldn't find much sympathy. They had tried to capture/kill Sam; they got what they deserved.

A soft sound of horror came from Max's direction, but Alec didn't have the time or inclination to care.

Soon enough, a blood splattered Sam sat back down in front of the camera.

“I have about six minutes before they start to get suspicious, so I'll have to be fast. I'm not like everybody else. You and the other transgenics know this already, but what none of you know is the extent of how different I am. Among other things, I get these visions. They give me glimpses of what's going to happen, usually in enough time for me to do something to change them. For the past two years I've been getting a series of them that revolve around you and the others.”

“I can't change a lot of what will happen – or what has already happened – the only thing I can do is to prepare you. You're going to be thrust into a world that's going to fear and hate you because you're different, into a society that will expect you to conform to its norms and rules, but won't tell you what they are. I tried my best to make sure you could depend and trust each other, protect those around you from people who want to hurt you. Because they will. Human nature is to hate and destroy what is different; what they don't understand. And I wish I could be there to help you through it all, but in the end it's better that you find your way on your own.”

“But here's the important part, 494. My visions showed me two possible futures, which is why I'm making this recording now, and hiding it some place that will eventually find this recording in your hands. One will bring an end to the transgenic race as a whole. You'll be hunted and run down wherever you go until you've been exterminated from the face of the earth. The ordinaries will purge your species out of fear, and no amount of words will be able to stop them, because there are times when fear is just too powerful. But there is another path. It's going to be hard and terrifying, but nothing worthwhile is ever easy.”

Alec watched the scarred face of his friend and mentor – and family – and already knew what he was going to say. It was what he'd been debating and fighting against for the past few months.

“You need to step up and take charge; do what you've been trained to do, what I've trained you to do. I've already fought my war, and now it's your turn. Curse of the Winchester's, Alec. We don't like it, but we do it because no one else can or will. Make us proud.”

The recording went black after that, and Alec barely remembered to input the code to stop the box from exploding. He didn't know what he was in shock from more; the voice from the past telling him to take Terminal City and the transgenics away from Max, or that same voice from the past calling him Alec, recorded nearly a year before Max had named him.

“What the hell--”

Max. Huh. She sounded kinda pissed.

Alec closed his eyes briefly, trying to breath through the emotions warring in his chest. A hand on his arm brought his attention to Gem at his side – always at his side – who gazed up at him with steady eyes.

Forget Sandman and his crazy breeding-cult-magic-runes crap, and Max as the 'chosen one'. Sam Winchester was as close to a hero/god/saviour the transgenics had ever known, and Alec had just been proclaimed his brother, or as good as. He didn't want the responsibility or the drama that was inevitable with Max, but he could already sense the current of change running through Command. They were all waiting for him to make a move.

Looking up at Mole, another of his trusted lieutenants, he didn't even need to voice the question to get an answer.

“We've been waiting for you to say the word.”

Alec looked around the room, searching the faces of those filling the tightly packed room. Each face held a look of hope and excitement, something that had been suspiciously lacking the past few months.

“Ok. Okay,” he said louder. “Let's do it.”

The excited voices and shouts drowned out Max and Logan for a short time, but really, no one could ignore Maxie if she wanted your attention.

“What the hell do you think you're doing, Alec!”

“I'm taking over Max,” he said, calm and steady. “You had your chance to do things your way, and all it got us was dead transgenics and an army outside our walls. It's time to stop talking while the ordinaries kill our kind by the truck load for being what they made us.”

Cheers of support rose up around him, and Alec realized what Max had really forgotten. They had been made for action, not talking. This inaction these past few months had frustrated them all, as more and more of their kind were killed while Max held them back from any sort of action.

They were made to fight and they'd learned to protect their own.

“If you think I'm just going to let you walk in here and--”

“That's it!” interrupted Gem loudly. Alec turned to watch as she unstrapped Ali, automatically taking her when Gem shoved the baby into his arms.

Gem moved around Alec to face Max, and Alec took several steps back. In fact, the entire room pulled back and cleared a space around the two women – though Logan still looked confused as someone pulled him back and away.

“Gem, what-?”

“Gem-” Alec tried to stop what he knew was coming, but didn't really have much hope of succeeding.

“No, Alec. This is female business,” she told him, eyes firmly locked on the wary Max. “We held off in deference to you, but no longer. She needs to earn her rank, just like everyone else. No more free passes.”

Alec just nodded, knowing there was nothing he could do. This was the way their society worked, and it was about time Max started learning that. They would never be ordinaries, and it was time they stopped even trying.

He watched as Gem stared down Max, this as much part of the ritual as anything else. Seeing Max shift uncomfortably, some of his worry evaporated. Gem was back in top form after giving birth, and this was far from the first fight she'd fought since coming to Terminal City.

Alec turned Ali around in his arms, already very active and social at six months old.

“Let's watch Mommy kick some ass, Ali,” he cooed at the baby, smiling as she giggled.

Then the first punch was thrown.

Cat fight. Cool.

END

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From:

bookwyrm95.livejournal.com

Love your new story (of course I love them all); cannot wait for more! I love how you intermixed the two series together; the melding was very smooth.

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