SPN/DA Crossover: The Wellspring (9/?)

May 29, 2009 22:56

Title: The Wellspring
Fandom(s): Supernatural, Dark Angel
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Rating: Ah, fuck. I just said fuck. I say fuck a lot. Is that considered an R or a PG-13 these days? One of those.
Summary: Sam and Dean find a tiny smartass in a barn in Montana. What are they to do?
Warnings: Crude language, cuddles, ice cream
Previous chapters and more info can be found here.
_________________________________

Chapter Nine: Ice Cream
_________________________________

Sam's looking around like he just lost his little red wagon, so Dean looks for it, too. The elder Winchester leans over the porch railing and scans the overgrown shrubs.

“What’re we looking for, Sammy?”

“Ben.”

“Ben?”

“He was just here. He’s not here anymore.”

Dean releases an amused chuff of air, turns back towards his brother and Bobby. Bobby’s rolling his eyes and shaking his head.

“He went inside. You idgit.”

“How come I didn’t see him?”

“Would imagine it has somethin’ to do with the fact the boy’s as quiet n’ quick as a cat on the hunt. They both are.” Dean and Sam exchange ominous glances as Bobby laughs. “You better not just be realizin’ you’ve got your hands full.”

“We’re aware, Bobby.” Sam sounds tired, and more than a little irritated and Dean doesn’t blame the kid. Hell, there’s really nothing they’re more aware of right now than the fact that they’ve taken on a hell of a lot more than they can chew. They’re running on one goddamn hour of sleep, for chrissakes, because - and well, this was Dean’s fault, really, but they had to be back today.

Two days. They’d said it would be two days and for all this first-in-command shit he’d been pulling recently, Dean had to make it clear to both Sam and himself that he isn’t John Winchester. Dean’s not gonna leave his kids for longer than they can handle.

His kids...

...He didn’t just think that.

Okay, yeah he did. And it kills him a little, because they’re not his kids. They’re his clones. His little itty bitty clones that keep looking at him like he’s their god or something. Just like Dean used to look at John. And where the hell did that get Dean? Nowhere. Nowhere and alone.

He really should check up on Alec.

“M’gonna go check up on Alec, I think. Kid’s only nine. It’s probably been too long.”

Sam snorts. “We’re lucky Ben doesn’t need facial reconstruction, with how hard he was hitting.”

Dean shrugs. That’s probably true, and really, it’s the only reason Dean’s left the kid up there this long. Giving a beatdown like that really requires a long cooling down period afterwards. For everyone involved.

And then Sam says, “You know why he did that, right, Dean?”

“Huh?”

“You know why Alec hit-”

“Yeah, yeah...why?”

Sam rolls his eyes before looking at Dean like he’s the stupidest person on the planet. Dean’s hands curl into fists and his fists itch a little. He wonders if Sam’s gonna say that Ben looked at Alec the way Sam’s looking at Dean right now. Because really, Dean would get that.

“It’s because of you, you moron.”

Because of him? But what did Dean do?”

“What did I do?”

Sam throws his arms up into the air. Dean kinda wants to smile, but he refrains. “You’re being deliberately stupid again.”

“Am not.” Sam’s makin’ an agitated noise now. And this time Dean really does smile. “Seriously, dude, what did I do?”

“Alec wanted your attention.”

Dean’s not smiling anymore. “Kid sure knows how to get it.”

“You were only paying attention to Ben. You didn’t even look at Alec.”

Dean’s not sure what Sam’s talking about, because of course he looked at Alec. Why the hell wouldn’t he look at Alec? Dean adores Alec. Alec’s adorable. And Dean remembers getting out of the car quite clearly - he was tackled by an overzealous Ben, whom he then cuddled in a manly fashion. And then he put Ben down. And then hugged Ben some more. And then he looked at Alec.

...who, at this point, was totally whaling on Ben’s face.

Oh shit. Oh shit oh shit oh shit.

“Dude, I didn’t look at Alec!”

Sam sighs. “That’s what I just said.”

Dad used to come home from hunts practically dead on his feet. Dean remembers this now because it’s always there in his head, this image of Dad. The man would practically trip over his own boots on his way inside for a beer and a bed, and Sam...Sam was just a kid. Just a little kid. Dean remembers Sam rushing into Dad’s arms while Dean trailed cautiously behind, remembers watching Dad hug Sam, assuring him that everything was fine, that everything had gone alright and that he was back now. And then he’d set Sam on the ground. Dean remembers Dad going inside after the reunion. Dean remembers not being spared so much as a glance. And shit, if that wasn’t painful.

“We...Sam.”

“What?”

“We shouldn’t have left him alone! Why the hell did you leave him alone?”

Sam blinks. “Uh...because he hit his brother?”

But Dean’s not listening. Dean’s rushing into the house and up the stairs and crashing into Bobby’s bedroom. Where Alec isn’t.

“Alec?”

Alec’s not in the bathroom. Or the closet. Or under the bed. Alec’s not here.

Dean’s flipping a shit.

Sam’s at the top of the stairs.

“He’s gone.”

“What do you mean he’s gone?”

“I mean he’s gone. Where’s Ben? Have you seen Ben?”

Sam hasn’t seen Ben, but he tumbles down the stairs after Dean and they throw some books and cushions and shit around and yell some names.

Nothing. Nada. This entire day has been shit.

“They couldn’t have gone far...”

“Are you kidding me? Remember how fast Alec is? Ben’s gotta be just as fast. They could be miles away by now.”

“Boys.” Bobby’s watching them from the doorway, trying to get their attention. Dean can’t even focus on the guy’s voice, he’s so fucked in his head right now.

“Sam...you check the woods. I’m gonna get in the car, see if they’re on the road.”

“Y-yeah. Solid plan.”

Dean’s halfway out of the house when Bobby grabs the back of his shirt and throws him back into the kitchen.

“Dean.”

“Bobby, we need to-”

“Shut your goddamn fool mouth and listen to me.”

Shit. Dean doesn’t want a verbal spanking. Dean doesn’t have the time for a verbal spanking.

“Dude, I know what you’re gonna say. You’re gonna tell me to take a breath and think - and I have thought. Sam says it’s a sound plan. So we’re gonna-”

“Did you check the basement?”

Huh?

“What?”

“Did you check the basement? Or the attic, for that matter?”

Dean hasn’t checked the basement or the attic. He takes a split second to exchange a wide-eyed look with his brother before they part ways. Sam goes up, Dean goes down, and he skips the last step on the basement stairs and his heart gets caught in his throat for a second, but he recovers in record time.

“Alec? Ben?”

They’re not down here. And considering the general squalor of Bobby’s house, there’s not much down here at all. Nothing for them to hide behind or...

...There’s a weak tapping coming from the panic room.

Fuck, they’re in the panic room?

“Boys?”

A vicious bang hits the steel door and Dean scurries, peeks through the bars for a millisecond before pulling the heavy fuck open. Both kids are white in the face, but Alec’s the only one shaking like a diabetic and Ben’s the one who immediately plows into Dean, wrapping needy arms around his waist.

“We got locked in...I didn’t mean to...”

Ben’s mumbling tearful apologies and Dean tries to shush him, tries to tell him its fine, that it was just an accident, that everything’s okay now, but he can’t take his eyes off of Alec, who won’t look back.

This is Dean’s fault. Kids couldn’t have been in there for longer than ten minutes, but apparently ten minutes is long enough.

He hollers for Sam, but Bobby comes running. Then Sam comes running.

Dean isn’t running. Dean is right here, looking longingly at Alec but unable to push Ben away.

“Ben? Benny...” Sam’s trying. He is. But Ben won’t let go.

It’s chaotic for a while, with both Bobby and Sam trying to peel Ben off of Dean and Alec...Alec’s still just standing in the middle of the panic room with his arms wrapped around himself. The shaking has tapered off into an occasional tremble.

“Dean...Dean, you gotta talk to him or something-”

Ben’s still clinging. Dean’s pretty sure that if he were to take a step forward the boy would still be hanging from his waist. Like a seventy-five pound belt.

Dean’s not good at talking, though. That’s Sam’s thing. He’ll give the occasional pep talk if the situation is dire...he’ll totally chick-flick it up if someone’s thinking of leaving and Dean himself is feeling really desperate. But this? This isn’t one of those situations.

“Ben. Go to Sammy.” He’s let go of that tone he usually takes with Ben - the slightly higher pitch and the lilt. He voices this like his father would voice it, like an order. This kid’s a soldier and that was an order.

And Ben releases, backs away, stands stiffly away from Dean but doesn’t go to Sam. Dean accepts the defiance for what it is, runs a hand over the kid’s hair on his way over to Alec.

“Hey, kitten.” Dean kneels. Alec doesn’t look at him. “What’s say you and me blow this joint, eh?”

Alec still doesn’t look at him, but Dean’s got this. The kid’s probably not going to look at him and he’s probably not going to talk, because he’s not so good at that, either. And that’s fine. Talking’s for princesses. Pretty pretty princesses like Sam.

Dean rises with the boy in his arms, feels tiny limbs wrap around his neck and waist.

He murmurs to Sam on the way out, that he should take Ben into town or something. Try to find some ice cream. Or something. Anything. Make the kid feel better and then try to explain all this godforsaken family shit to him. Try to explain that this is actually normal, but just seems more fucked up because they’re Winchesters. Everything’s more fucked up when you’re a Winchester.

Dean takes Alec up the basement stairs and then up to the second floor of Bobby’s house, back into Bobby’s room.

The kid fidgets in his arms, says, “I don’t wanna be alone again.”

Dean sits down on the bed, settles his clone in his lap, replies, “S’okay. You’re not gonna be.”

______________________________

It's miraculous, but Sam finds ice cream. There’s still a shop left standing in town and the middle-aged woman behind the counter flashes him a warm smile as she piles two chocolate scoops on top of a sugar cone.

Sam stuffs a couple of yellow napkins into Ben’s tiny fist before gently placing the cone in his hand. The boy merely blinks in confusion.

“Lick it,” Sam advises. “It’s delicious.”

The look he gets in return is wary at best, but he watches as Ben’s little tongue flicks out and swipes the ice cream. Green eyes spark with unhidden delight.

The clerk asks, “Do we have a winner?”

Sam grins. “I’m pretty sure we do.” He gives her a fifty cent tip on their way out. It’s not much, but it’s all he can afford. There’s a park across the street which has gotten a little trashy, but still remains inhabitable. He grabs Ben’s hand and leads him to a bench, sits him down, watches the ice cream slowly disappear.

“Good, huh?” He wipes the kid’s mouth with a napkin. Sam wonders if he should be disturbed that he’s always the one stuck with clone-cleaning duty, but shakes the thought away as Ben nods.

They sit for a few minutes in a silence that isn’t exactly comfortable. There’s weight in the air now that the ice cream is gone.

“I was bad.”

If Sam was expecting anything, he wasn’t expecting that.

He poses the question lightly, like he’s asking to receive the pun of a joke. “You were? What’d you do?”

Ben shifts a little on the bench, peers up at Sam with huge eyes. Sam’s hit with that weight in the air and it’s heavier than he thought. He’s seen a lot of sad things in his life, but Ben? Ben’s gotta be one of the saddest.

“Dean n’ Alec hate me.”

“Well, that’s just not true.”

“Alec wanted to kill me. Dean wanted me to go away.”

Sam wants to groan. It’s not because he’s irritated with Ben - it’s a reasonable assessment for an already damaged kid after a day like today. No, the problem with the conversation that’s going to happen is Dean. And Alec, because Alec is Dean only small. Sam loves his brother, and well...he guesses he loves Alec. It’s only been a few days but Alec is Dean and he loves Dean so he loves all forms of Dean, but really? The last thing Sam ever wants to do? Is try to explain Dean. To anyone.

But he’ll do it. For Ben.

It takes about an hour of Dean 101, but eventually Sam’s got the kid convinced that Alec didn’t want to kill him and that Dean freaking adores him.

“How do we cure them of this...emotional repression?” Ben wonders, and his voice is loud because his mouth is right next to Sam’s ear. The kid’s having his first ever piggy back ride. Sam’s decided that the day shouldn’t be entirely shit.

“I’m pretty sure Dean’s a lost cause,” Sam says honestly. “We might be able to nurture Alec out of it, though.”

He ducks into a bookstore, lets Ben down, tells the kid to look around and see if there’s something he’d like. He really can’t afford things this frivolous....but hell, it’s Dean’s money in his pocket.

And he really can’t let today happen again. Because Alec was shaking in the panic room. Because Alec felt neglected and then Sam deliberately neglected him some more.  He didn’t mean to...he didn’t, but Dad...anytime Sam hit Dean or Dean hit Sam, they were left alone for a long period of time, whatever the reason.

Apparently that sort of discipline doesn’t fly with genetically engineered killing machines. No, genetically engineered killing machines thrive on cuddles and ice cream.

Sam scans the titles in a section he’s never given a second glance. It’s been 25 minutes and he still hasn’t picked anything up.

“Sam?”

Ben’s tugging on his T-shirt. Sam looks down to see a book being pushed at him. He instantly recognizes the idol on the cover. The Life of the Blessed Virgin Mary: From the Visions of Ven. Catherine Emmerich.

“This what you want?”

Ben nods. Sam briefly wonders if he should put a disclaimer on buying this book, make sure the kid realizes that what he’s reading is fantasies and superstition from a religious woman, but then he decides that they’ll have that conversation if it comes up.

“What are you getting?” Ben wants to know.

“Still lookin’.”

Ben wanders off to peruse some more, leaving Sam to find the perfect book.

“Awww. Is he a twin?” The girl at the counter is looking between the book and Ben, a slight smile on her face.

Sam looks down at Ben, rests a big hand on the blonde head. “Yeah, he is. Identical.”

The girl coos obnoxiously. Ben looks confused, then disgusted and Sam grins, before saying no, he doesn’t want a bag. He hands the Virgin Mary book back down to a happy Ben, tucks his own under his arm. He’s going to see that same look of disgust again soon, when Dean sees the title of this book:

Emotionally Healthy Twins: A New Philosophy for Parenting Two Unique Children.

Yeah, it’s going to be epic.

Next

da/spn fic, wellspring

Previous post Next post
Up