The Hunter and the Hunted, part 2
Title: The Hunter and the Hunted
Part 2: When Hunger Calls
Authors: art_of_mayhem and candygramme
Rated: PG for overt m/m flirting
Pairing: Dean Winchester/Alex Krycek
Spoilers: none
Warning: Slash
Wordcount:2,960
Disclaimer: Dean and his family belong to Eric Kripke and Supernatural, and Alex belongs to Chris Carter and the X-Files. We own nothing, but we are doing this for love and not money.
Author’s notes: Dean spent four years traveling with John, his father, and later on his own missions, while Sam, his brother, was at Stanford. We’ve bent time a little, and we are aware of that, but this is fiction . We’ve decided that Dean met up with Alex Krycek after the events of Piper Maru and Apocrypha so for everyone that ever wondered how Alex got out of the missile silo, we have the scoop.
The quoted song is “October Song,” by the Incredible String Band.
The beautiful icon is by myhappyface, for which much thanks.
Part 1
The autumn leaves that jewel the ground, they know the art of dying
And leave with joy their glad, gold hearts in scarlet shadows lying
When hunger calls my footsteps home the evening follows after
I swim the seas within my mind, while pine trees laugh green laughter
In the shower, Alex had turned the water up as hot as he could bear it and was scrubbing himself furiously in an attempt to get the oil off his skin. Normally a shower like this would have been seen as a luxury to savor, but for Alex today it was merely a way of losing the foul stuff and re-claiming himself, putting the silo behind him.
He shampooed his hair and then reluctantly climbed out of the shower once more, noting that his skin was scarlet where he'd scrubbed, but feeling much better even so. He risked using Dean's toothbrush, not wanting to ask in case he was told that he couldn't, and then breathed a sigh of relief as he finally stopped tasting the filthy, oily substance that had apparently pervaded his every pore.
At last he felt human again. Wrapping a towel around his hips, he ran his fingers through his wet hair and turned to push the door open and emerge, clean once more.
"God, that felt good," he said. "Thanks, man. You know I appreciate it?"
Dean looked up from writing in his journal just as the bathroom door opened. Green eyes blinked slowly at the wet man in the towel who stood there. Shit! Dean knew he shouldn't be thinking this, but that body was hot, hot, hot!
That was it, Dean knew he needed to find a bar soon and get laid.
He shifted in his chair, "I can tell." He got up, walking across and looking the guy over, "Good thing the wire brush wasn't in there; you might have used it." He moved past him, digging in his bag for a pair of jeans and a shirt and tossing them to Alex, "See if you can fit into those. If not, I'll go out and see if I can find you something."
He made his way to the safe area across the room, sitting back down and making more notes. "While you were in there trying to scrub to the bone, you think of anything else you might have remembered?" He tipped his head towards the man. "I got food coming."
"I dunno." Alex could see the way that the man was looking at him, and for a moment, his eyes gleamed at the thought that there might be a little recreation later on that evening. He licked his lips, smiled his thanks and dropped his towel as he took a seat to pull on Dean's jeans. Pulling them up took him a couple of seconds, and he smiled as he fastened them, tucking his genitals in with a wink to Dean. "Maybe there was something else. When I came to, it was like there was stuff pouring from my eyes and nose, coming out of my mouth too. I couldn't see it, because it was black as the hubs of hell, but it felt greasy and tasted disgusting."
He reached for the T-shirt and pulled it on over his head, stretching to tug it over his chest. "Food would be wonderful. I could probably eat grass, I'm so hungry. I don't know how I'm ever going to repay you." As he spoke the words, he let his gaze travel down over Dean's body, allowing his eyes free rein. Dean was very attractive, with a mouth even more exotic than Mulder's, and Alex suddenly felt himself quicken inside the borrowed jeans at the thought of tasting it.
Dean had to fight to keep from watching the man dress, but he shot a glance here and there. At one point, Dean wasn't sure if this man might have winked at him. Dean was used to women flirting with him, but men? That was new in Dean's book. However, as the handsome, green-eyed man started talking, Dean listened more intently. "Eww," Dean made a face, then shivered as he turned back to add that to his notes. This was definitely something new - something neither he nor his dad had run across. He might have to make another call or two.
"No grass, but there might be cat or dog; it’s Chinese food." Dean leaned back then on an afterthought pushed up to go to the little fridge. He pulled it open and retrieved two beers, offering one to his companion, "Here, this might help with that taste in your mouth." Popping the top of his own, he leaned back against the cheap dresser. "You don't have to repay me. Just tell me where you want to go, and I'll take you back." He took a swig of his beer. "I'm sure you have someone who is missing you."
Alex gave Dean a smile from which innocence shone. "I think not," he said, softly. "I'm what you might call a lone wolf. My family is long gone, and the only person who might hope to meet up with me hates my guts."
"Bummer," Dean commented, taking another drink while the green eyed man was speaking. He concentrated on trying to read the guy. His dad had always been better at that than him. John Winchester could figure people out with just a glance, because people were another one of those pattern things. The interpretation of patterns was John’s real skill.
All unaware of the thoughts running through his rescuer’s brain, Alex was opening the beer that Dean had handed him. He raised it to his lips, eyes fastened on Dean as he did so. "I was investigating a theft. Guess you could call me a private eye," he announced, thinking that might cover any possible slip ups he might make. "Don't really have anyone that looks out for me." He sighed, face a picture of regret. "You know how it is, Dean, I can tell. You're in the same business as I am - all I have to do is look at your face to know that."
"Theft. Out there." Dean nodded as he took another drink. He had to chuckle as he pushed away from the dresser. "You need a partner, buddy." He smirked at the look on the other man's face, because his words were ironic. The two people he’d always looked out for were gone. They’d both left him. Sam, his younger brother, had left him to go to college, fed up with the life of hunting and with home life in general. His father had sent him away to work his own missions, and Dean was getting the sense that it was a gradual push away, because Sam wasn't there any more. The only things his father had given him were his beloved car and a cell phone. So in a way, Dean kind of knew how things were.
“Yeah, a theft,” agreed Alex without elucidating further. “Guess I lost the trail, what with one thing and another.”
Dean drew a breath; he didn't believe a word this man was saying. They were miles from nowhere, and who the hell would steal anything then bring it out here? So alarms were going off for Dean, and it seemed that he was his father's son after all.
Setting his bottle to his lips and tipping the beer back, Alex drank, allowing his powerful throat muscles to work their charm. Placing the half-empty bottle down once more, he smiled at Dean again, guileless and innocent as you please. "I feel so full of life after thinking I was dead. Do you suppose that it's a kind of reaction to nearly dying that makes me want to have sex after being in danger of my life?"
As the thoughts flickered through Dean’s head, his own bottle was pressed to his lips, his eyes upon the other man’s, and how it tipped, how those throat muscles were moving. He gave a quick lick to his lips then tipped the bottle again, nearly spitting his beer out at Alex's next words. "You coming on to me?" He gave Alex that look of his before turning and setting his beer down on the small table near his papers. "Dinner will be here soon. After we eat, if you still feel like plowing some fields, maybe we can find a local bar for some prospects."
Alex set his empty bottle down on the table, placing it precisely on the patterned Formica. “I wouldn’t call it ‘coming on to you’ exactly,” he added, thoughtfully. “Think of it more as a polite inquiry.” He moved towards Dean, who was sitting in one of the chairs beside the table and moving to stand between his knees, a guileless smile on his face. “Because I most definitely need a partner, and I like green eyes. You know where you stand with green eyes.”
He reached down to tip Dean’s chin up so that he could examine the handsome face, lips pursed as he took inventory. “See, I’m very picky, but when I meet someone that meets my standards, I’m also very good… very good indeed. Lucky you.”
Dean had tipped his head just a bit, lounging in the chair as Alex moved toward him. The other man was now standing between his knees, and he couldn't help but feel the heat in his body building, because that shirt was much too tight on his guest. Looking up, he smirked. "Must be because you have green eyes too, I take it."
The fingers touching his chin burned. And as Alex took inventory, so did Dean. "Lucky me," he repeated, pursing his lips. Just then the door was rattled by a knock. Dean reached for his wallet, pulled out some money then handed it to Alex, "Dinner. Wine and dine, then we'll see, if we aren't both too fat and tired to talk about plumbing."
Nodding, somehow pleased at what he saw, Alex took the money and turned to the door. A short conversation later, he returned bearing the bags of food. “Oh, man!” he murmured, inhaling the scent that was coming from the bags. “I think I’ve died and gone to heaven.”
He set everything on the table and turned to look in the cupboards for plates. “I can’t tell you the last time I ate this well. You know the cliché about the impoverished private eye? Well, I’m here to tell you that it’s all true.”
Passing the dishes over to Dean, Alex began to take the order out of the paper bags. “Okay, you put it out. You bought it.”
While the man was gone, Dean had taken the opportunity to clean up the mess on the table, putting all the papers and his journal away. Let this man think he was some private-dick, there was no need for him to know Dean was actually a hunter.
Table cleared, Dean stood up to look in the bag. They seemed to have gotten everything. Rice was present as was the pork fried rice which would do for later or leftovers since Dean figured he might be here a few days. He set out the chicken, then the steak and veggies and rice.
“There you go, dig in!” Dean took a piece of steak and started nibbling on it as he stepped back. “So... What was stolen? And this woman - the one with the black eyes, did she say anything at all to you?” He glanced over at the door, frowning, then pushed up while Alex was serving himself and went to his bag, pulling out a large can of salt. Moving to the door, he started to pour a ring. If this man was possessed, (and who was to say he wasn’t now?) Dean wanted to be protected. Once the door threshold was protected, he turned his attention to the windows, salting them next.
"The woman with the black eyes?" Alex wasn't concentrating. His eyes slid to the food, but he did shake his head. "No. For a start, I didn't really know she was there until she had hold of me. Once she had me by the throat, I don't remember anything else."
Alex was drooling. The smell of the food was almost intoxicating in his famished state. He loaded his plate with rice, chicken and vegetables and began to eat, closing his eyes in bliss as he allowed the taste to permeate his senses.
"Oh, jeez, Dean, you have no idea..." Alex had arched his neck, head back as he sampled a little of the ginger chicken. "You've saved my life a couple of times over." He suddenly noticed what Dean was doing and frowned, trying to decide whether or not his new companion had suddenly lost his mind. "Uh... listen, guy. It's your room, and live and let live, but is there some reason I don't know about that makes you want to pour white stuff on the rug?"
Dean watched as Val/Alex took the food onto his plate. Lots of it. The man must have been starving, which told Dean he must have been in there a while. He found it a little hard to believe that this man didn't remember traveling in his own meat suit. With most possessions, the person was along for the ride, aware of what was going on, there were very few that weren’t.
Returning the salt can to his bag, Dean smirked. "I heard a little spilt salt is good luck. Maybe this much will get me really lucky." He came back to the table, fixing his own plate and giving no further explanation. He sat down and looked at the guy who was eating ravenously. "So what kind of theft were you investigating that took you to Hong Kong? And has this happened to you before?"
"Happened to me? Hell, no." Alex shot Dean a veiled glance under his lashes. It seemed as if the man was trying to pump him about the DAT tape, and he suddenly felt a little nervous. Perhaps Dean was a clever plant by Cancerman. Come to think of it, why would the guy have fed him, given him clothes from his own wardrobe and brought him here rather than just turning him loose. Alex frowned. This needed investigation.
And he needed a fix. He really did. He could feel his hands shaking, and the chills were already starting. He thought quickly, seeking a plausible reason for being in Hong Kong, and starting to sweat.
"I... There was a tape that I was couriering for a third party. It contained important information, and it was supposed to be going to a particular organization; I was the middle man for the transaction. It's gone, and I never got to deliver it. I'm betting that there'll be a price on my head before too long."
Dean seemed uninterested in the true purpose of the item Alex had been carrying. Instead he just nodded as he took another bite of food. "Look, I don't care what was on the tape, who it was to go to or why." He set his plate down as he leaned forward. "I just want to know if this could happen again to someone else and stop it from happening, if I can."
"I think you were possessed by something. It rode you back here, but why I don't know? I think there is more you aren't telling me. You told me first you were investigating a theft, and now you say you were a courier? I just want to know what else you aren't telling me. Like where whatever was inside you went. When it came out of you did it vanish, go in a vent... what?"
"I told you before - it was dark. I didn't even see what it looked like, just felt that it was greasy and burned my skin." Alex set down the chopsticks he was using and looked at Dean, his face suddenly panicked. "Damned right I was possessed. I can't think of any other way to describe what happened. What I don't understand is how... or why."
He made as if to start eating again, and then suddenly turned pale. "And, God, please don't make me go back in there. Suppose it found me again. Suppose..." His voice dropped, and he looked positively panic-stricken. "Suppose I got locked in there again."
Dean sighed, murmuring, "Neither do I. Don't know how or why." He looked Alex over, reading the panic that he was projecting. There was fear in there, and he didn't really blame the man. "No, not taking you back there. Not going to let it happen to you again. If anything I'm going to make sure it doesn't happen to anyone else."
~~~~~~~oo(O)oo~~~~~~~
End of part 2
(ETA: Re-edited to avoid sequencing confusion.)
Part 2: When Hunger Calls
Authors: art_of_mayhem and candygramme
Rated: PG for overt m/m flirting
Pairing: Dean Winchester/Alex Krycek
Spoilers: none
Warning: Slash
Wordcount:2,960
Disclaimer: Dean and his family belong to Eric Kripke and Supernatural, and Alex belongs to Chris Carter and the X-Files. We own nothing, but we are doing this for love and not money.
Author’s notes: Dean spent four years traveling with John, his father, and later on his own missions, while Sam, his brother, was at Stanford. We’ve bent time a little, and we are aware of that, but this is fiction . We’ve decided that Dean met up with Alex Krycek after the events of Piper Maru and Apocrypha so for everyone that ever wondered how Alex got out of the missile silo, we have the scoop.
The quoted song is “October Song,” by the Incredible String Band.
The beautiful icon is by myhappyface, for which much thanks.
Part 1
The autumn leaves that jewel the ground, they know the art of dying
And leave with joy their glad, gold hearts in scarlet shadows lying
When hunger calls my footsteps home the evening follows after
I swim the seas within my mind, while pine trees laugh green laughter
In the shower, Alex had turned the water up as hot as he could bear it and was scrubbing himself furiously in an attempt to get the oil off his skin. Normally a shower like this would have been seen as a luxury to savor, but for Alex today it was merely a way of losing the foul stuff and re-claiming himself, putting the silo behind him.
He shampooed his hair and then reluctantly climbed out of the shower once more, noting that his skin was scarlet where he'd scrubbed, but feeling much better even so. He risked using Dean's toothbrush, not wanting to ask in case he was told that he couldn't, and then breathed a sigh of relief as he finally stopped tasting the filthy, oily substance that had apparently pervaded his every pore.
At last he felt human again. Wrapping a towel around his hips, he ran his fingers through his wet hair and turned to push the door open and emerge, clean once more.
"God, that felt good," he said. "Thanks, man. You know I appreciate it?"
Dean looked up from writing in his journal just as the bathroom door opened. Green eyes blinked slowly at the wet man in the towel who stood there. Shit! Dean knew he shouldn't be thinking this, but that body was hot, hot, hot!
That was it, Dean knew he needed to find a bar soon and get laid.
He shifted in his chair, "I can tell." He got up, walking across and looking the guy over, "Good thing the wire brush wasn't in there; you might have used it." He moved past him, digging in his bag for a pair of jeans and a shirt and tossing them to Alex, "See if you can fit into those. If not, I'll go out and see if I can find you something."
He made his way to the safe area across the room, sitting back down and making more notes. "While you were in there trying to scrub to the bone, you think of anything else you might have remembered?" He tipped his head towards the man. "I got food coming."
"I dunno." Alex could see the way that the man was looking at him, and for a moment, his eyes gleamed at the thought that there might be a little recreation later on that evening. He licked his lips, smiled his thanks and dropped his towel as he took a seat to pull on Dean's jeans. Pulling them up took him a couple of seconds, and he smiled as he fastened them, tucking his genitals in with a wink to Dean. "Maybe there was something else. When I came to, it was like there was stuff pouring from my eyes and nose, coming out of my mouth too. I couldn't see it, because it was black as the hubs of hell, but it felt greasy and tasted disgusting."
He reached for the T-shirt and pulled it on over his head, stretching to tug it over his chest. "Food would be wonderful. I could probably eat grass, I'm so hungry. I don't know how I'm ever going to repay you." As he spoke the words, he let his gaze travel down over Dean's body, allowing his eyes free rein. Dean was very attractive, with a mouth even more exotic than Mulder's, and Alex suddenly felt himself quicken inside the borrowed jeans at the thought of tasting it.
Dean had to fight to keep from watching the man dress, but he shot a glance here and there. At one point, Dean wasn't sure if this man might have winked at him. Dean was used to women flirting with him, but men? That was new in Dean's book. However, as the handsome, green-eyed man started talking, Dean listened more intently. "Eww," Dean made a face, then shivered as he turned back to add that to his notes. This was definitely something new - something neither he nor his dad had run across. He might have to make another call or two.
"No grass, but there might be cat or dog; it’s Chinese food." Dean leaned back then on an afterthought pushed up to go to the little fridge. He pulled it open and retrieved two beers, offering one to his companion, "Here, this might help with that taste in your mouth." Popping the top of his own, he leaned back against the cheap dresser. "You don't have to repay me. Just tell me where you want to go, and I'll take you back." He took a swig of his beer. "I'm sure you have someone who is missing you."
Alex gave Dean a smile from which innocence shone. "I think not," he said, softly. "I'm what you might call a lone wolf. My family is long gone, and the only person who might hope to meet up with me hates my guts."
"Bummer," Dean commented, taking another drink while the green eyed man was speaking. He concentrated on trying to read the guy. His dad had always been better at that than him. John Winchester could figure people out with just a glance, because people were another one of those pattern things. The interpretation of patterns was John’s real skill.
All unaware of the thoughts running through his rescuer’s brain, Alex was opening the beer that Dean had handed him. He raised it to his lips, eyes fastened on Dean as he did so. "I was investigating a theft. Guess you could call me a private eye," he announced, thinking that might cover any possible slip ups he might make. "Don't really have anyone that looks out for me." He sighed, face a picture of regret. "You know how it is, Dean, I can tell. You're in the same business as I am - all I have to do is look at your face to know that."
"Theft. Out there." Dean nodded as he took another drink. He had to chuckle as he pushed away from the dresser. "You need a partner, buddy." He smirked at the look on the other man's face, because his words were ironic. The two people he’d always looked out for were gone. They’d both left him. Sam, his younger brother, had left him to go to college, fed up with the life of hunting and with home life in general. His father had sent him away to work his own missions, and Dean was getting the sense that it was a gradual push away, because Sam wasn't there any more. The only things his father had given him were his beloved car and a cell phone. So in a way, Dean kind of knew how things were.
“Yeah, a theft,” agreed Alex without elucidating further. “Guess I lost the trail, what with one thing and another.”
Dean drew a breath; he didn't believe a word this man was saying. They were miles from nowhere, and who the hell would steal anything then bring it out here? So alarms were going off for Dean, and it seemed that he was his father's son after all.
Setting his bottle to his lips and tipping the beer back, Alex drank, allowing his powerful throat muscles to work their charm. Placing the half-empty bottle down once more, he smiled at Dean again, guileless and innocent as you please. "I feel so full of life after thinking I was dead. Do you suppose that it's a kind of reaction to nearly dying that makes me want to have sex after being in danger of my life?"
As the thoughts flickered through Dean’s head, his own bottle was pressed to his lips, his eyes upon the other man’s, and how it tipped, how those throat muscles were moving. He gave a quick lick to his lips then tipped the bottle again, nearly spitting his beer out at Alex's next words. "You coming on to me?" He gave Alex that look of his before turning and setting his beer down on the small table near his papers. "Dinner will be here soon. After we eat, if you still feel like plowing some fields, maybe we can find a local bar for some prospects."
Alex set his empty bottle down on the table, placing it precisely on the patterned Formica. “I wouldn’t call it ‘coming on to you’ exactly,” he added, thoughtfully. “Think of it more as a polite inquiry.” He moved towards Dean, who was sitting in one of the chairs beside the table and moving to stand between his knees, a guileless smile on his face. “Because I most definitely need a partner, and I like green eyes. You know where you stand with green eyes.”
He reached down to tip Dean’s chin up so that he could examine the handsome face, lips pursed as he took inventory. “See, I’m very picky, but when I meet someone that meets my standards, I’m also very good… very good indeed. Lucky you.”
Dean had tipped his head just a bit, lounging in the chair as Alex moved toward him. The other man was now standing between his knees, and he couldn't help but feel the heat in his body building, because that shirt was much too tight on his guest. Looking up, he smirked. "Must be because you have green eyes too, I take it."
The fingers touching his chin burned. And as Alex took inventory, so did Dean. "Lucky me," he repeated, pursing his lips. Just then the door was rattled by a knock. Dean reached for his wallet, pulled out some money then handed it to Alex, "Dinner. Wine and dine, then we'll see, if we aren't both too fat and tired to talk about plumbing."
Nodding, somehow pleased at what he saw, Alex took the money and turned to the door. A short conversation later, he returned bearing the bags of food. “Oh, man!” he murmured, inhaling the scent that was coming from the bags. “I think I’ve died and gone to heaven.”
He set everything on the table and turned to look in the cupboards for plates. “I can’t tell you the last time I ate this well. You know the cliché about the impoverished private eye? Well, I’m here to tell you that it’s all true.”
Passing the dishes over to Dean, Alex began to take the order out of the paper bags. “Okay, you put it out. You bought it.”
While the man was gone, Dean had taken the opportunity to clean up the mess on the table, putting all the papers and his journal away. Let this man think he was some private-dick, there was no need for him to know Dean was actually a hunter.
Table cleared, Dean stood up to look in the bag. They seemed to have gotten everything. Rice was present as was the pork fried rice which would do for later or leftovers since Dean figured he might be here a few days. He set out the chicken, then the steak and veggies and rice.
“There you go, dig in!” Dean took a piece of steak and started nibbling on it as he stepped back. “So... What was stolen? And this woman - the one with the black eyes, did she say anything at all to you?” He glanced over at the door, frowning, then pushed up while Alex was serving himself and went to his bag, pulling out a large can of salt. Moving to the door, he started to pour a ring. If this man was possessed, (and who was to say he wasn’t now?) Dean wanted to be protected. Once the door threshold was protected, he turned his attention to the windows, salting them next.
"The woman with the black eyes?" Alex wasn't concentrating. His eyes slid to the food, but he did shake his head. "No. For a start, I didn't really know she was there until she had hold of me. Once she had me by the throat, I don't remember anything else."
Alex was drooling. The smell of the food was almost intoxicating in his famished state. He loaded his plate with rice, chicken and vegetables and began to eat, closing his eyes in bliss as he allowed the taste to permeate his senses.
"Oh, jeez, Dean, you have no idea..." Alex had arched his neck, head back as he sampled a little of the ginger chicken. "You've saved my life a couple of times over." He suddenly noticed what Dean was doing and frowned, trying to decide whether or not his new companion had suddenly lost his mind. "Uh... listen, guy. It's your room, and live and let live, but is there some reason I don't know about that makes you want to pour white stuff on the rug?"
Dean watched as Val/Alex took the food onto his plate. Lots of it. The man must have been starving, which told Dean he must have been in there a while. He found it a little hard to believe that this man didn't remember traveling in his own meat suit. With most possessions, the person was along for the ride, aware of what was going on, there were very few that weren’t.
Returning the salt can to his bag, Dean smirked. "I heard a little spilt salt is good luck. Maybe this much will get me really lucky." He came back to the table, fixing his own plate and giving no further explanation. He sat down and looked at the guy who was eating ravenously. "So what kind of theft were you investigating that took you to Hong Kong? And has this happened to you before?"
"Happened to me? Hell, no." Alex shot Dean a veiled glance under his lashes. It seemed as if the man was trying to pump him about the DAT tape, and he suddenly felt a little nervous. Perhaps Dean was a clever plant by Cancerman. Come to think of it, why would the guy have fed him, given him clothes from his own wardrobe and brought him here rather than just turning him loose. Alex frowned. This needed investigation.
And he needed a fix. He really did. He could feel his hands shaking, and the chills were already starting. He thought quickly, seeking a plausible reason for being in Hong Kong, and starting to sweat.
"I... There was a tape that I was couriering for a third party. It contained important information, and it was supposed to be going to a particular organization; I was the middle man for the transaction. It's gone, and I never got to deliver it. I'm betting that there'll be a price on my head before too long."
Dean seemed uninterested in the true purpose of the item Alex had been carrying. Instead he just nodded as he took another bite of food. "Look, I don't care what was on the tape, who it was to go to or why." He set his plate down as he leaned forward. "I just want to know if this could happen again to someone else and stop it from happening, if I can."
"I think you were possessed by something. It rode you back here, but why I don't know? I think there is more you aren't telling me. You told me first you were investigating a theft, and now you say you were a courier? I just want to know what else you aren't telling me. Like where whatever was inside you went. When it came out of you did it vanish, go in a vent... what?"
"I told you before - it was dark. I didn't even see what it looked like, just felt that it was greasy and burned my skin." Alex set down the chopsticks he was using and looked at Dean, his face suddenly panicked. "Damned right I was possessed. I can't think of any other way to describe what happened. What I don't understand is how... or why."
He made as if to start eating again, and then suddenly turned pale. "And, God, please don't make me go back in there. Suppose it found me again. Suppose..." His voice dropped, and he looked positively panic-stricken. "Suppose I got locked in there again."
Dean sighed, murmuring, "Neither do I. Don't know how or why." He looked Alex over, reading the panic that he was projecting. There was fear in there, and he didn't really blame the man. "No, not taking you back there. Not going to let it happen to you again. If anything I'm going to make sure it doesn't happen to anyone else."
~~~~~~~oo(O)oo~~~~~~~
End of part 2
(ETA: Re-edited to avoid sequencing confusion.)