In the Company of Wolves
Title: In the Company of Wolves, Conclusion
Pairing: JA/JP, JP/OC
Rating: R for violence and language.
Warning: AU
Disclaimer: Complete fiction, and I'm hoping it stays that way.
Summary: The hemorrhagic fever has been discovered in Western Washington. The team assigned to stopping this virulent disease discovers not only was the plague deliberately introduced to the human population, but it may have been the government that began the tragedy.
Main Post
Six Months Later
Philadelphia, Pennsylvania
Sterling watched his printer spit out the memo with a grim smile. He slipped the copies into the appropriate files and placed the entire stack into a metal briefcase. He then patiently waited for the courier to arrive.
Exactly at ten-thirty A.M., a ho-hum grey sedan pulled up in front of Sterling's house. An equally non-descript man got out and took long, easy gaits to the front door.
Sterling stepped outside to meet him. “Here it is.”
The man took the briefcase. “Thank you, Sir. For what it’s worth, what they did to you was shitty.”
Sterling shrugged. “I knew the rules when I got into the game. Take care of yourself, Lieutenant.”
“Sir,” the man said and did a crisp about face, returning to his car in that same leisurely stroll.
Sterling doubted anyone noticed the visit, and if some nosy busybody did, he knew they wouldn’t be able to recollect what the man looked like, what he wore, or what he drove.
Dr. Rosenthal looked down at Sterling’s last memo with distaste and sadness. “We should never have fired him.”
Dr. Marcus angrily looked at his compatriot. “He failed to establish control of the situation. On top of that, he also allowed Miller’s team to parcel out vital information which included our existence to every significant medical body in the world.
“He’s lucky we didn’t string him up by his guts.”
Rosenthal looked at others around the table for support but no one was brave enough to contradict their boss. Rosenthal quietly sighed. Marcus was once a great doctor and a good friend, but he’d been in position of great power for way too long, and what was once generous and brilliant had corroded into contempt and paranoia.
Marcus waited until everyone got their copy of Sterling’s update before speaking. “So, this is the last field report from Dr. Brown. Why don’t we take a quick look and then discuss what to do next.”
Update re: Bellevue Incident
After full six months since the outbreak in Washington, Modi I has proven to be the most effective means of combating filovirus #11. It has come to my attention that both national and international health organizations have tried to create other genetically engineered viruses with Modi I’s efficacy. They have, to my knowledge, all failed. In fact, Modi I’s effectiveness is such that I am compelled to recommend its continual usage.
C.D.C. is still trying to create a vaccine but none has proven to be effective in trial stages. As Dr. Ackles have demonstrated, Coughlin’s creation was, at best primitive, but because of its basic construct it has been hard to create a vaccine that can neutralize it. At this point, I strongly recommend that the federal government step in and use its powers to compel private entities to dedicate all resources to finding a complete cure.
It is also now quite evident that we can no longer contain filovirus #11 as there are continuous reports of microbreaks across the States. I am also confident in saying that the European Union will not pass the bill proposed on March ninth. They are too mindful of their bloody history, and are fearful to even consider making a move that would go down in history as a repeat of what had happened during Nazi Germany’s reign. So, I do not see our new President condoning similar measures proposed by members of the House: to forcibly remove infected patients into makeshift camps until the outbreaks have ceased. The logistics are nearly impossible to calculate, and if this measure should pass in the Senate and by some miracle the President does not veto, by the time they have created a semi-workable scenario, the infected citizens would be in the majority, not the minority.
Dr. Ackles’ initial agreement to live in isolation has passed its third and final contractual stage, and he has requested to be released. As it is impossible to detain him or any other cured patients from leaving medical care, I have agreed with the C.D.C. to allow his discharge. As of April third, Dr. Ackles has returned to his condo in Dallas, Texas. Most adult patients of sound mind and judgment have been sent back to the care of their family or caretaker assigned to them by the social services of their state. The only problem I foresee is the children. Their parents have flooded the courts with lawsuits, demanding their return, and unless we wish to witness a complete breakdown of both federal and civil courts, the government has little choice but to acquiesce to their demands.
In conclusion, I must press the fact that we, as a medical body, have no choice but to use all our available resources in aiding the C.D.C. in their efforts to find a vaccine. Though filovirus #11 has the same dial-down ratio of the hantavirus #14, I cannot ignore the fact that this is a filovirus and, as such, it may or may not develop capabilities to jump species. If that were to occur, we are guaranteed to see a cyclical lifespan where it may return to the human populace with immunities to Modi I and its derivatives.
I also have a personal stake in aiding C.D.C. As of yesterday afternoon I have tested positive for filovirus #11. So, it is obvious that all or some of you have been exposed to it as I have tested negative only nine days ago.
How do you like them apples, you ungrateful bastards?
Jensen sighed as he reached the front doors to his condo. The doorman saw him and managed not to flinch this time.
“Good afternoon, Dr. Ackles.”
“Hey, Billy.”
“Lovely day today.”
“It is,” Jensen said then added, “I might be going away for few days to visit my family.”
“Boston’s cold and wet this time of the year,” Billy said.
“I know, but I miss them.” Jensen was once more overwhelmed with the need to see familiar faces filled with love and care, not pity, fear, and a crazy spin of admiration and lust. After he was released, Jensen had been inundated with letters from so-called admirers who wanted to spend rest of their lives with him, taking care of him with the 'utmost attention he so obviously earned'.
Jensen had to hire a private security firm to keep an eye on his six in case some of these nutjobs decided to do something more intimate than just mail worrisome letters.
For a moment Jensen was blinded when he entered his condo as his place was beautifully flooded with spring light. But Jensen didn’t feel any joy by its presence. The frost inside his soul and his heart refused to recede, and Jensen knew it would take some time before he could feel anything besides numbness.
Jensen listlessly flipped through his mail and saw two letters from WHO, and one from C.D.C.: he knew they were all job offers. He put them away, along with stacks of others, including one from Wentworth. He actually did read that letter, and was surprised to discover he felt neither anger nor regret. Just relief. Relief that part of his life was over and was finished in the best way possible for everyone concerned. Wentworth was given the recognition he deserved for handling a live grenade of a team, and that under his guidance that team was able to manufacture a vaccine that managed to curtail the mortality rate to less than seven percent.
Jared and his lab also received accolades, along with global recognition for their contribution. Steve and Chris were not given such honors, but then they just slipped into the background as soon as the C.D.C. took over; both men glad to be out of a city that was drier than the Sahara Desert. Brown disappeared of course, and the team was advised not to mention his appearance to anyone. Dr. Lee later told Jensen that the C.D.C. was given the same advice and had taken it since they were smart enough to be scared.
Jensen didn’t even bother trying to find out what happened to all their work data. He knew that the C.D.C. and Wentworth’s friends were forced to surrender theirs, but he also suspected that the doctors made their own copies for safekeeping. Researchers were notorious for their hoarding habits, and they sure as hell didn’t like being bullied.
Jensen was so distracted by his reminiscing that the knock on the door was startling enough to make him jump a little.
Jensen decided to remain quiet in the hopes that the visitor would be discouraged by the silence and leave.
“It’s me! And I know you're in there because I watched you come into the building!”
Jared’s voice only managed to skyrocket Jensen’s flight or fight response. However, since he had nowhere to flee and it was highly unlikely that Jared was dropping by for a slugfest, Jensen had little choice but to open the door.
“Dude, what are you doing here?” Jensen asked.
“I was wondering what you were doing for the next month,” Jared answered with a broad grin.
Jensen noted curiously that Jared’s tan had completely faded and the grey pallor made the man look almost ill.
“Um, I’m planning to visit mom and dad in Boston. Why are you asking?”
“I just got tapped by WHO to help them handle a situation in Morocco. I want you to come along.”
Jensen managed not to look too surprised. “Jared, I don’t know if I can leave the country yet.”
“You may not be able to take a commercial flight but you can hop on a private jet.”
Before Jensen could answer Jared politely but firmly muscled his way in.
“This is a nice place you got here,” Jared said.
Jensen caught Jared’s left fingers tapping against his thigh - a sure signal that Jared was extremely nervous.
“Jared, you don’t have to do this,” Jensen said softly. “I admit things got crazy, but I’ll be fine.”
“Oh, I know that,” Jared said. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t need you on this. It’s bad, Jensen. Real bad.”
“What is it?”
“Hantavirus,” Jared answered. “I think it’s the one I researched for Brown.”
“Are you serious?”
“Yeah, I am.”
“What about Wentworth’s team?”
“I don’t know if WHO contacted him or not, and I really don’t give a damn. They asked me and I plan to bring the best.”
Jensen realized right then how close he was to a nervous breakdown. How he had been unable to move on from the near-death experience: of watching Jared and Brown frantically try to keep him alive while Modi I did its job. But Jared did. Jared was handing him a lifeline to a situation that might very well kill him, or save him from being slowly eaten away by paralyzing self-doubt.
And maybe Jensen was still as stupid as he was when they first broke up, but he knew that the Jared was offering more than a job, and he wanted it ever so badly, he felt tears burn their way upwards from his heart.
“Okay,” he said hoarsely. “I … I accept.”
“I bet you still have your emergency backpack ready and waiting.”
Jensen gave a watery smile. “Yeah, I do actually. Old habits die hard.”
“Don’t they?” Jared hustled over to the hallway closet and pulled out the ratty L.L. Bean bag. “Anything need replacing?”
“No,” Jensen answered. “My passport’s still good.”
“Okay, so why don’t you change and then we can skedaddle out of here.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
Jensen dug out his worn jeans, his white T-shirt yellowed by repeated washes, and a baseball cap that was as soft as his shirts because he kept throwing it in the laundry along with his clothes.
Jared opened the front door and waited for Jensen to finish making arrangements on his phone before leaving.
“Jared, what if the Moroccan government gives you trouble because of me?”
“Cough on them. That should clear the room pretty fucking fast.”
“I can’t believe you just said that.”
“I’m serious! If they arrange a meeting to chew me out: cough, and throw in some spit while you’re at it. I can’t imagine anyone would want to keep talking to us after that.”
“How in hell did you ever get your medical degree?”
“Easily, and with honors.”
“And I was under the impression John Hopkins was a good school.”
“It’s an awesome school. They didn’t accept you, did they?”
“I didn’t apply, asshole.”
“Bitch, bitch, bitch.”
The two men continued to squabble good-naturedly as they rode the elevator down to the lobby. Billy heard them and couldn’t help but smile when he opened the door for them. He watched them walk down the street, wondering what the tall stranger did to make Dr. Ackles glow like the spring sun high in the sky.
The End
Author's Notes and Soundtrack
In the Company of Wolves took a decade to finish. I started it back in 1999 but stopped because the body count was ridiculously high. I also fell too much in love with the science and the story suffered because of it. So, I tucked it away only to revive it for NaNoWriMo. As I was writing, I was astonished to discover the amount of progress in the medical arena with the filovirus. Unfortunately, there is still no cure and if a patient does survive, they can become a carrier for life, which is devastating.
There are virus hunters who are trying to track down this disease to its natural reservoir: their courage cannot be measured. This is doubly true for the medical personnel who deliberately place themselves in harm's way, facing down something so lethal, it was tagged as a 'species eradicator' by the medical world.
As usual there is a soundtrack, but this one won't take two years to download! So, enjoy.
Pairing: JA/JP, JP/OC
Rating: R for violence and language.
Warning: AU
Disclaimer: Complete fiction, and I'm hoping it stays that way.
Summary: The hemorrhagic fever has been discovered in Western Washington. The team assigned to stopping this virulent disease discovers not only was the plague deliberately introduced to the human population, but it may have been the government that began the tragedy.
Main Post
Six Months Later
Philadelphia, Pennsylvania
Sterling watched his printer spit out the memo with a grim smile. He slipped the copies into the appropriate files and placed the entire stack into a metal briefcase. He then patiently waited for the courier to arrive.
Exactly at ten-thirty A.M., a ho-hum grey sedan pulled up in front of Sterling's house. An equally non-descript man got out and took long, easy gaits to the front door.
Sterling stepped outside to meet him. “Here it is.”
The man took the briefcase. “Thank you, Sir. For what it’s worth, what they did to you was shitty.”
Sterling shrugged. “I knew the rules when I got into the game. Take care of yourself, Lieutenant.”
“Sir,” the man said and did a crisp about face, returning to his car in that same leisurely stroll.
Sterling doubted anyone noticed the visit, and if some nosy busybody did, he knew they wouldn’t be able to recollect what the man looked like, what he wore, or what he drove.
Dr. Rosenthal looked down at Sterling’s last memo with distaste and sadness. “We should never have fired him.”
Dr. Marcus angrily looked at his compatriot. “He failed to establish control of the situation. On top of that, he also allowed Miller’s team to parcel out vital information which included our existence to every significant medical body in the world.
“He’s lucky we didn’t string him up by his guts.”
Rosenthal looked at others around the table for support but no one was brave enough to contradict their boss. Rosenthal quietly sighed. Marcus was once a great doctor and a good friend, but he’d been in position of great power for way too long, and what was once generous and brilliant had corroded into contempt and paranoia.
Marcus waited until everyone got their copy of Sterling’s update before speaking. “So, this is the last field report from Dr. Brown. Why don’t we take a quick look and then discuss what to do next.”
Update re: Bellevue Incident
After full six months since the outbreak in Washington, Modi I has proven to be the most effective means of combating filovirus #11. It has come to my attention that both national and international health organizations have tried to create other genetically engineered viruses with Modi I’s efficacy. They have, to my knowledge, all failed. In fact, Modi I’s effectiveness is such that I am compelled to recommend its continual usage.
C.D.C. is still trying to create a vaccine but none has proven to be effective in trial stages. As Dr. Ackles have demonstrated, Coughlin’s creation was, at best primitive, but because of its basic construct it has been hard to create a vaccine that can neutralize it. At this point, I strongly recommend that the federal government step in and use its powers to compel private entities to dedicate all resources to finding a complete cure.
It is also now quite evident that we can no longer contain filovirus #11 as there are continuous reports of microbreaks across the States. I am also confident in saying that the European Union will not pass the bill proposed on March ninth. They are too mindful of their bloody history, and are fearful to even consider making a move that would go down in history as a repeat of what had happened during Nazi Germany’s reign. So, I do not see our new President condoning similar measures proposed by members of the House: to forcibly remove infected patients into makeshift camps until the outbreaks have ceased. The logistics are nearly impossible to calculate, and if this measure should pass in the Senate and by some miracle the President does not veto, by the time they have created a semi-workable scenario, the infected citizens would be in the majority, not the minority.
Dr. Ackles’ initial agreement to live in isolation has passed its third and final contractual stage, and he has requested to be released. As it is impossible to detain him or any other cured patients from leaving medical care, I have agreed with the C.D.C. to allow his discharge. As of April third, Dr. Ackles has returned to his condo in Dallas, Texas. Most adult patients of sound mind and judgment have been sent back to the care of their family or caretaker assigned to them by the social services of their state. The only problem I foresee is the children. Their parents have flooded the courts with lawsuits, demanding their return, and unless we wish to witness a complete breakdown of both federal and civil courts, the government has little choice but to acquiesce to their demands.
In conclusion, I must press the fact that we, as a medical body, have no choice but to use all our available resources in aiding the C.D.C. in their efforts to find a vaccine. Though filovirus #11 has the same dial-down ratio of the hantavirus #14, I cannot ignore the fact that this is a filovirus and, as such, it may or may not develop capabilities to jump species. If that were to occur, we are guaranteed to see a cyclical lifespan where it may return to the human populace with immunities to Modi I and its derivatives.
I also have a personal stake in aiding C.D.C. As of yesterday afternoon I have tested positive for filovirus #11. So, it is obvious that all or some of you have been exposed to it as I have tested negative only nine days ago.
How do you like them apples, you ungrateful bastards?
Jensen sighed as he reached the front doors to his condo. The doorman saw him and managed not to flinch this time.
“Good afternoon, Dr. Ackles.”
“Hey, Billy.”
“Lovely day today.”
“It is,” Jensen said then added, “I might be going away for few days to visit my family.”
“Boston’s cold and wet this time of the year,” Billy said.
“I know, but I miss them.” Jensen was once more overwhelmed with the need to see familiar faces filled with love and care, not pity, fear, and a crazy spin of admiration and lust. After he was released, Jensen had been inundated with letters from so-called admirers who wanted to spend rest of their lives with him, taking care of him with the 'utmost attention he so obviously earned'.
Jensen had to hire a private security firm to keep an eye on his six in case some of these nutjobs decided to do something more intimate than just mail worrisome letters.
For a moment Jensen was blinded when he entered his condo as his place was beautifully flooded with spring light. But Jensen didn’t feel any joy by its presence. The frost inside his soul and his heart refused to recede, and Jensen knew it would take some time before he could feel anything besides numbness.
Jensen listlessly flipped through his mail and saw two letters from WHO, and one from C.D.C.: he knew they were all job offers. He put them away, along with stacks of others, including one from Wentworth. He actually did read that letter, and was surprised to discover he felt neither anger nor regret. Just relief. Relief that part of his life was over and was finished in the best way possible for everyone concerned. Wentworth was given the recognition he deserved for handling a live grenade of a team, and that under his guidance that team was able to manufacture a vaccine that managed to curtail the mortality rate to less than seven percent.
Jared and his lab also received accolades, along with global recognition for their contribution. Steve and Chris were not given such honors, but then they just slipped into the background as soon as the C.D.C. took over; both men glad to be out of a city that was drier than the Sahara Desert. Brown disappeared of course, and the team was advised not to mention his appearance to anyone. Dr. Lee later told Jensen that the C.D.C. was given the same advice and had taken it since they were smart enough to be scared.
Jensen didn’t even bother trying to find out what happened to all their work data. He knew that the C.D.C. and Wentworth’s friends were forced to surrender theirs, but he also suspected that the doctors made their own copies for safekeeping. Researchers were notorious for their hoarding habits, and they sure as hell didn’t like being bullied.
Jensen was so distracted by his reminiscing that the knock on the door was startling enough to make him jump a little.
Jensen decided to remain quiet in the hopes that the visitor would be discouraged by the silence and leave.
“It’s me! And I know you're in there because I watched you come into the building!”
Jared’s voice only managed to skyrocket Jensen’s flight or fight response. However, since he had nowhere to flee and it was highly unlikely that Jared was dropping by for a slugfest, Jensen had little choice but to open the door.
“Dude, what are you doing here?” Jensen asked.
“I was wondering what you were doing for the next month,” Jared answered with a broad grin.
Jensen noted curiously that Jared’s tan had completely faded and the grey pallor made the man look almost ill.
“Um, I’m planning to visit mom and dad in Boston. Why are you asking?”
“I just got tapped by WHO to help them handle a situation in Morocco. I want you to come along.”
Jensen managed not to look too surprised. “Jared, I don’t know if I can leave the country yet.”
“You may not be able to take a commercial flight but you can hop on a private jet.”
Before Jensen could answer Jared politely but firmly muscled his way in.
“This is a nice place you got here,” Jared said.
Jensen caught Jared’s left fingers tapping against his thigh - a sure signal that Jared was extremely nervous.
“Jared, you don’t have to do this,” Jensen said softly. “I admit things got crazy, but I’ll be fine.”
“Oh, I know that,” Jared said. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t need you on this. It’s bad, Jensen. Real bad.”
“What is it?”
“Hantavirus,” Jared answered. “I think it’s the one I researched for Brown.”
“Are you serious?”
“Yeah, I am.”
“What about Wentworth’s team?”
“I don’t know if WHO contacted him or not, and I really don’t give a damn. They asked me and I plan to bring the best.”
Jensen realized right then how close he was to a nervous breakdown. How he had been unable to move on from the near-death experience: of watching Jared and Brown frantically try to keep him alive while Modi I did its job. But Jared did. Jared was handing him a lifeline to a situation that might very well kill him, or save him from being slowly eaten away by paralyzing self-doubt.
And maybe Jensen was still as stupid as he was when they first broke up, but he knew that the Jared was offering more than a job, and he wanted it ever so badly, he felt tears burn their way upwards from his heart.
“Okay,” he said hoarsely. “I … I accept.”
“I bet you still have your emergency backpack ready and waiting.”
Jensen gave a watery smile. “Yeah, I do actually. Old habits die hard.”
“Don’t they?” Jared hustled over to the hallway closet and pulled out the ratty L.L. Bean bag. “Anything need replacing?”
“No,” Jensen answered. “My passport’s still good.”
“Okay, so why don’t you change and then we can skedaddle out of here.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
Jensen dug out his worn jeans, his white T-shirt yellowed by repeated washes, and a baseball cap that was as soft as his shirts because he kept throwing it in the laundry along with his clothes.
Jared opened the front door and waited for Jensen to finish making arrangements on his phone before leaving.
“Jared, what if the Moroccan government gives you trouble because of me?”
“Cough on them. That should clear the room pretty fucking fast.”
“I can’t believe you just said that.”
“I’m serious! If they arrange a meeting to chew me out: cough, and throw in some spit while you’re at it. I can’t imagine anyone would want to keep talking to us after that.”
“How in hell did you ever get your medical degree?”
“Easily, and with honors.”
“And I was under the impression John Hopkins was a good school.”
“It’s an awesome school. They didn’t accept you, did they?”
“I didn’t apply, asshole.”
“Bitch, bitch, bitch.”
The two men continued to squabble good-naturedly as they rode the elevator down to the lobby. Billy heard them and couldn’t help but smile when he opened the door for them. He watched them walk down the street, wondering what the tall stranger did to make Dr. Ackles glow like the spring sun high in the sky.
The End
Author's Notes and Soundtrack
In the Company of Wolves took a decade to finish. I started it back in 1999 but stopped because the body count was ridiculously high. I also fell too much in love with the science and the story suffered because of it. So, I tucked it away only to revive it for NaNoWriMo. As I was writing, I was astonished to discover the amount of progress in the medical arena with the filovirus. Unfortunately, there is still no cure and if a patient does survive, they can become a carrier for life, which is devastating.
There are virus hunters who are trying to track down this disease to its natural reservoir: their courage cannot be measured. This is doubly true for the medical personnel who deliberately place themselves in harm's way, facing down something so lethal, it was tagged as a 'species eradicator' by the medical world.
As usual there is a soundtrack, but this one won't take two years to download! So, enjoy.