With a Brown paper bag (Spn/Dark Angel), How 'Alec' got his Donor DNA

[SIDURA]

Hello there! thought I'd finally post this little tale seeing how it has been sitting on my hard drive for a while.

I wrote it while trying to fill in the blanks of as part of a Dark Angel/Supernatural cross (Rituals and Chocolate Cream Pie) I've been trying to complete.

I had written a couple of similar little tangents starring Alec and one starring John, however, I realised I hadn't done anything similar for Dean and seeing how the big story had Alec as Dean's clone, it would might be nice to work out in my head how that actually came about - also it gave me the chance to try and write a wee'chester tale as it never occured to me to do that before.

Thanks for mayalean for looking at it - any mistakes you find are from me tinkering after she did her thing.

Hope people enjoy it.

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CHAPTER ONE


“Help!” the little boy cried. “I need someone to help me!”

“Will you shut the hell up,” his brother said through gritted teeth as he let his little brother help him into the emergency room. “I’m not dying.”

The younger boy took little notice, yelling at the top of his lungs as the two of them made it to the front desk. “Please help. He’s hurt and I can’t…,” he said between gulps of air as a large nurse came towards them.

The older boy straightened up, grimacing slightly, trying to put some weight in his injured leg. “Look, it isn’t that bad. Sammy here is just being melodramatic. You know what kids are like?”

“Sure, honey,” she said as she went for a wheel chair.

“Sure you do. In a little place like this, you must see it all the time. Little kids get a scratch, and then because they are making so much noise, mom and dad take them down to the doctor just to shut them up,” he said, trying to hold himself up as the near hysterical other boy dried his face with the frayed edge of his shirt.

“Must really get on your nerves, people wasting your time like that, an upstanding medical professional like yourself.” He hopped a little. “To be honest, it’s a bit embarrassing, wouldn’t be bothering you at all if it wasn’t for Sammy here making such a fuss.”

She looked at the boy’s scratched face. “Really?”

“Yeah. Thought he was going to pass out on me. He did the whole holding-his-breath thing when I said we were going home. Almost turned blue. Though I thought he’d stopped doing that when he started kindergarten, but guess I was wrong,” the boy said with a little pained grin on his face.

“Deeeaaan,” Sammy said. “Please.”

The older boy turned his head to answer. “Shh, will you?”

The younger boy looked at the floor, adjusting the arm he was holding a little, letting his brother shift his weight to stand in a more comfortable position. He started to cry again, “I’m sorry, I’m really, really sorry.”

“I said can it!”

The nurse looked at the boys, guessing her break would just have to wait. She started to push the wheelchair towards the older boy. “Well, seeing as how you’re here, let’s get you checked out.”

He shook his head. “Listen, all I need cold compress, and I’ll be fine.”

“Really?” she said. “Why don’t you let me be the judge of that. So are you going to tell me what happened?”

“He got hit by a car,” Sammy admitted. “It was my fault.”

“Sammy, don’t start, please,” Dean said, trying to comfort the younger boy before turning to the nurse. “I wasn’t hit. I got clipped, that’s all. Should have been looking where I was going, and it wasn’t Sammy’s fault, lets get that straight right here and right now.”

“And the driver gave you a ride.”

The younger boy shook his head. “No, he didn’t even stop.”

“Probably didn’t even realise he’d clipped me,” Dean said. “It was one of those big, pimped-out 4X4’s, blacked-out windows. Guy probably bought the thing and told the sales guy that he was getting it for off roading and the closest that it has come is hitting a couple of pot holes.”

She looked at the younger boy. “And did you carry your brother all the way here?”

Sammy sniffed before nodding.

“Yeah, I’m betting when I get out of here I’m never going to hear the end of it,” Dean said, even though there was a small twinge of pride in his voice.

The younger boy started to cry again as Dean got into the chair and was wheeled to the treatment area. “I ran across the street. If I didn’t run across the street, Dean wouldn’t have gotten hurt.”

“Sammy, will you stop being such a drama queen, because if you don’t, I swear the next place we go I’m getting Dad to buy you a dress,” Dean said as he was transferred to a gurney.

“Is he going to be okay?” Sammy asked the nurse as she started to pull the curtain around the gurney.

“We’re going to get the doctor to look at him.”

He looked up at her with a pair of puffy eyes. “Can I stay with him?”

She shook her head as she put a hand on his shoulder and started to lead him away. “No, sweetheart, but you could help by telling us where your mommy is.”

Sammy opened his mouth to say something when they heard the crash.

“f***ing crap!!!” Dean screamed as he came hobbling down at high speed, grimacing each time he put weight on his leg.

“Dean!” the younger boy yelled as he ran into his brother, wrapping his arms tightly around his brother’s waist as the tears began to flow.

“It’s okay, Sammy. It’s going to be okay,” Dean said, trying to calm his brother down.

The little boy continued to sob, burying his head in his brother’s chest. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m really sorry.”

“It’s okay. Let’s get out of here,” Dean said, trying to loosen Sammy’s grip around him.

“No you don’t, young man!” the nurse said, using that tone she usually reserved for the medical students who were overstepping their mark.

Dean turned to see an orderly coming towards him. He swallowed. Turning back to the nurse, he said, “Don’t you young man me, lady.”

She moved to split the two boys apart as did the orderly causing the younger boy to tighten his grip to the point where he was obviously causing the older boy pain.

She sighed as she decided to change tact. Squatting down beside the younger boy, she said, “Come on, sweetheart. You’ve got to let go. We can’t look at your brother if you’re stuck to him.”

The older boy swatted her hand away. “Listen, lady, he stays with me.”

She nodded causing the orderly to step away as Dean put an arm around his brother, pulling Sammy closer to him, although it did result in Sammy loosening his grip.

Dean looked her in the eye. “No Doctor is going to touch me unless he stays.”

“That isn’t how this works, son,” the orderly said.

Dean turned his head to reply, “I ain’t your son, bub.”

“Your little brother will be fine, I’ll make sure of it,” the nurse promised, “but we have got to check you out.”

He gave her a knowing smile. “That’s sweet and all, but lady, I don’t know you from bupkiss. For all I know you’re an axe murderer or something. Sammy here is my responsibility, and he stays with me, and don’t you think about trying something or trust me, you’ll be sorry."

“Dean?” came a plaintive cry from Sammy as he looked up at his brother, who was currently staring down the nurse.

“You need to be looked at,” she said.

“Well, you can do that while Sammy watches, because I’m not going anywhere without him.”

“Okay,” she replied in a patronising tone.

“Don’t okay me. I know how this works. I’m not doing anything violent. I ain’t acting in a way that endangers anybody else or myself, so you can’t knock me out unless I say you can.”

“Son, who told you that?”

“Like I told lurch there, I ain’t your son,” Dean said. For all the bravado he was trying to display she could see the fear in his eyes. He swallowed as he assessed the situation. “I get you guys are busy and don’t really need us to cause a fuss, but he’s my brother and I’m supposed to take care of him. He’s used to that. He’s not used to being looked after by strangers, and I don’t want him more scared than he already is.”

She shook her head. “You look after him? You’re a minor.”

“Yeah I look after him. I’m eighteen!”

The nurse noted the look on the younger boy’s face at his brother’s statement, not that it was surprising.

“Eighteen?” she asked the kid in front of her.

Dean shrugged. “What can I say? I’m overdue on the growth spurt.”

“Overdue?” she said sarcastically as the younger boy started to squeeze his brother again.

Dean stood there, standing in stony silence for a second, knowing his bluff had obviously been called. “Sixteen.”

“Sixteen?” she crossed her arms. “And I’m gonna end up on Baywatch.”

He bit his lip, and in a quiet voice, “Fifteen.”

“Fifteen?”

Dean glared at her. “I turned fifteen last month!”

“Okay, that I can believe,” she said, “but that means you’re a minor.”

“Yeah, I’m a minor, so you have to call someone to come down here to tell you what you can and can’t do to me and that takes time,” he argued. “Trust me, sister, calling my Dad is going to be easier in the long run for everybody rather than you calling someone else, and it’ll be quicker, too.”

“So there is someone at home?” she asked.

Dean shook his head. “Dad’s... at work, but you can call him.”

“Really?” She looked at the two boys. Their clothes looked a little too threadbare for her liking, although neither one looked malnourished, although from the younger boy’s reaction she guessed that the older boy was responsible for that. As for any other outward signs of neglect, she couldn’t tell even though the older boy was bruised, but that could have been from his recent accident.

“Did you bother to think to ask?” Dean asked caustically.

She looked away from the boy’s accusing glare. Truth was, like most kids that ended up in the emergency room, she had automatically suspected the worst.

“You are going to do what you are going to do, but you are going to have to call our Dad anyway. so you might as well do it now, and when he gets here we’ll cooperate, I promise, but until then Sammy here doesn’t go out of my sight,” Dean said, before pouting and giving her a look that was guaranteed to melt her heart. “Just let him stay with me until my Dad gets here, please?”

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John Winchester came running into the hospital waiting area, stopping as soon as he got through the door, scanning the crowd in the hope of seeing his children.

The message he had gotten was brief and hadn’t made much sense, but he had gotten the name of the hospital and that the boys were there -- damn cell phone. He hated the damn thing; not to mention how much it cost, but he had given up the argument about carrying one since Sammy had found out. It had become obvious after five minutes into that discussion that Sammy was never going to be like his brother and take it on faith that their Dad was going to always come strolling back through the door after a hunt.

He finally got the attention of the desk clerk. “Excuse me, I’m looking for my sons.”

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“Dad, I don’t need to stay here. I’m fine,” Dean protested as the resident explained that Dean may need to stay in for observation.

Sam looked up at his father. “I’m sorry. I wanted to see what it was and Dean said no, so I snuck out, and he had to come running after me. It’s my fault.”

“Sam, they aren’t keeping your brother as a punishment, and as for you sneaking out, I’ll talk to you about that later,” John said before turning to the ER resident. “Are you sure he needs to be admitted? It was obviously an accident.”

“We’re not saying it wasn’t, and I do understand why your son said he was older than he is,” the doctor explained. “Moving to a new town to start over after loosing everything can be a frightening prospect for an adult, let alone a child.”

“Losing their mother has been hard on them,” John replied, sticking to the half truth that Dean had told the nursing staff before he had arrived.

The doctor took a look at the two boys before turning back to their father. “I’m sorry for your loss, and I understand why you would want to start over somewhere else, but your son should not be responsible for his brother after school while you try to find regular work.”

“Well do you want to pay for child care, bub? And I’m fifteen, for crying out loud, and Sam is ten and he’ll be eleven in a couple of months. It isn’t like we need someone to change our diapers. If I was a girl with a babysitting job, would you be acting like this?” Dean asked the resident sarcastically. “’Cause I’m guessing we wouldn’t be having this conversation, which personally I find more than a little sexist. Can’t a guy my age be a little new age and try and help out a little around the house without some sort of abuse being involved?”

“Dean,” John muttered quietly as he ran a palm over his tired face.

The resident looked at the boy. “That wasn’t what I meant. Just that your father should have some regular plan for the care and you and your brother, instead of leaving the two of you on your own.”

“Wouldn’t have mattered if my dad was home when we got home from school or not. I got clipped by a car that didn’t stop! Could have happened just as easily if I had been hanging out with those morons that go to that dump that this town calls a school. Wait, can I sue the dick that clipped me? I’m sure that the plates were local.”

“Dean,” John said curtly.

“Seriously, come to Colorado and get mowed down by an idiot that can’t drive,” Dean said to the resident.

“That’s enough!” John said firmly.

Dean bowed his head. “Yes, sir.”

John turned to the resident. “You said he was okay, but you still want him in for observation. Why? Unless there is something else wrong?”

“All the tests we ran came out okay as far as I know,” the doctor said as he started to check his notes. “Actually I’m not sure why they want to keep him in.”

Dean’s face lit up. “So we can go?”

“Ah, there it is,” the doctor said as he read the file, “the knee.”

“His knee?” John asked.

“Yes his knee,” the doctor said with a nod. “Looks like they want to run some more tests to make sure that the damage isn’t permanent as well as confirming that, even though there are no signs of concussion, that we haven’t missed any head trauma.”

Dean swallowed. “Permanent damage?”

“Head trauma?” Sam Winchester asked quietly as he moved to hold on to his brother’s hand.

The resident smiled. “Don’t worry. From the tests so far, it just looks like you need to rest it.”

“Dude, it’ll be okay,” John said reassuringly as he followed the doctor out into the hall.

“Doctor?”

The resident smiled. “Don’t worry, Mr. Winchester. Your son is fine.”

“Then why keep him in?”

“We just want to make sure that the inflammation to his knee isn’t masking any other problems.”

“And you need to keep him here to do that?”

“No, to be honest, we don’t,” the resident admitted. “But don’t worry, sir. With him here we can check his knee as soon as the swelling goes down -- probably have him out of here first thing.

“And if there is something wrong with his knee?”

“Then we can get started with any treatments right away. Not that I think there is anything.”

John took a breath. “If you’re sure there is nothing wrong, then we’ll be going. I’ll bring him back if there is.”

“Sir?” the doctor asked, causing John to guess that the man was getting suspicious.

“It’s just… well, I can’t afford it,” John said quietly, trying to think on his feet. “The insurance… on the house, on my wife’s death… they didn’t pay out. I haven’t told the boys.”

“Look if money is the problem, don’t worry.”

“Excuse me?” John asked cautiously.

“Your son’s bills have been taken care of.”

“How? Who?”

“I’m not sure,” the doctor admitted before turning to walk away.

John grabbed the doctor’s arm. “Hey, if someone is paying the bills, I want to know who is paying them.”

“I can’t really say.”

“Who?”

The doctor sighed. “I can’t be sure, but you’re new in town, so you probably wouldn’t know, but from your son's description of the car that hit him, I’d say it was probably the owner of the local plant that is involved.”

“What?”

“The plant that employs the majority of the county. I’d say its owner is trying to clean up his son’s messes.”

“His son’s got an SUV like Dean described?” John asked, to which the doctor nodded.

“Dean is going to get the best care. That place has some big contracts with some important people including the federal government, he’s in with the authorities, so even if you create some noise, it won’t do any good. The guy’s got enough pull to get the some large medical foundation to send down some of it doctors from time to time to train us hicks on the latest techniques. We got a load of them in last week, so I’d say that they’d be looking after your son.”

John looked at him suspiciously. “So this guy is just covering his ass?”

“Look, I’m not condoning it, but if our local Lord and Master is trying to cover up one of Junior’s little accidents, then I say milk the guy for as much free treatment as you can get. Hell, I wouldn’t be surprised to find that any bills you run up while your boy is in here don’t mysteriously get paid.”

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The children’s floor smelled of antiseptic and was garishly decorated with bright flowers and pictures of cartoon characters.

Sam squeezed his father’s hand as Dean settled in his room.

“Why do I have to stay here, and on the kid’s floor, too?” Dean asked his father. “My knee is fine.”

John sighed as Sam sat on the bed beside his brother. “You're staying as you and your brother couldn’t do as you were told.”

Sam held his head in shame. “I’m sorry, Dad, I thought it was something.”

“Well, it wasn’t. It was a damn cat with a tin can tied to its tail,” Dean replied. “I told you that.”

“But with the howling and everything, it sounded like one of the things described in the books,” Sam said his in his defence.

“We’ll talk about that when we get back to the motel,” John said as he ran a hand over his face. That had been another thing. Since Sam had found out the truth, the boy had been trying to read everything he could get his little hands on just to get a handle on what his father was looking for when John disappeared into the night.

John had to admit Sam’s reaction saddened him, not the boy’s need for John to carry that damn cell phone, but the loss of Sam’s innocence. John already had one son who had lost his childhood due to his need to end the thing that had killed Mary. Now Sam seemed to now be hurtling down the path that John had dragged Dean down.

John could remember the day it happened, the day he watched the last remnants of Mary’s little boy dying in Dean’s eyes -- the day Dean had been told to look after Sammy, lock the motel door, shoot anything that tried to force its way in, and he was to call Pastor Jim if his father didn’t return in three days.

“But, Dad, can’t I come too?” Dean asked.

“One night,” John said. “Just to be sure.”

Dean pouted. “Yes sir.”

John raised an eyebrow. “And Dean. Play along but…”

“Don’t answer any questions,” Dean said, finishing his father’s sentence.

“That’s right, dude, keep to the story and we’ll see you first thing,” John said with a smile on his face.

“But I can call if there is anything?”

John nodded, “Sure son, but that doesn’t mean you call just to get out of here, you understand?”

“Yes, sir,” Dean replied, his heart heavy as his father and brother made the move to leave him in the hospital room for the night.

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John sat Sam down in the chairs at the waiting area as he went to the nurse’s station to make sure that they had contact details just in case they needed to get a hold of him in the night.

The doctor at the desk didn’t seem to take any notice, just standing there flipping through charts, his silver tipped cane balancing against his leg. John stood there for a second, waiting for a response from the white haired man.

“Excuse me?” John said, trying to get the man to turn round.

“The nurse will be with you in a moment,” came the curt response, the doctor not looking up from the pages in front of him.

“You know where one is?” John asked, in an irritated tone which caused the doctor to look up from his work for a moment.

“I’m certain that one will be over in a moment.”

“Right,” John said sarcastically as one of the nurses made her way over to them, though she seemed to decide to deal with the doctor first.

“Is this all we have on this child?” he asked.

The nurse nodded. “Yes, doctor. That was everything sent up from the ER.”

The doctor inhaled loudly. “The test results aren’t here. Where are they?”

“Probably still at the lab, doctor,” the nurse replied as John watched on.

“If we are being ‘requested’ to treat this child, I want a full work up, a proper one, not some third-year medical student’s opinion of what is necessary.”

“Excuse me, doctor?” the nurse asked, confused.

“The same as the rest, a proper work up. Otherwise treating him will be a waste of my time. Where is the boy anyway?” came the reply from the white haired man.

“Room 452,” the nurse replied, causing John’s ears to perk up at the mention of the room he had just left Dean in.

“That would be my son you’re talking about, then,” John said to the obviously pissed-off doctor, which caused the man to finally turn to face him.

“Your son?” the doctor asked.

“Yes, my son,” John said with a nod.

“I’m sorry you had to hear this, but please be assured that your son will receive the best of care.”

“No matter what your personal feelings are about treating him?” John asked sarcastically.

The doctor exhaled loudly. “I deserve that for acting unprofessionally. From the information I have been given it appears that your son's time here will be purely observational and that will have nothing to do with how I feel.”

“I hope that means he doesn’t ‘waste’ too much of your time,” John said.

“I’m sorry Mr…?”

“I didn’t give you my name,” John said. “You have my son’s file. Did you bother to read it? It has his name in it or did you just flip through the pages to look important while you bitch to the nursing staff after my son was brought up here?”

“Actually, I was more interested in the limited testing regime that was performed before he was sent up from the ER rather than what he was called. I don’t appreciate being informed that anyone who is to be placed under my care is not going to be able to receive the full attention of my team because of a lack of information. Whatever the circumstances.”

“So, if it was your choice, you wouldn’t be treating him.”

“Please don’t take this the wrong way, but no. My work here usually does not involve me receiving patients because someone has received a phone call…”

“From a rich guy who owns a couple of factories whose kid may or may not have been stupid enough to drive away from an accident?”

The Doctor nodded. “Please take my personal assurance that even though that is the case, your son will receive the same attention as any of the other patients I am working with here.”

John scratched his nose. “The doctor downstairs said your team was with some foundation? What are you doing here?”

“Sir, I hope you can understand that I can’t discuss my work with anyone.”

“Excuse me, but I’m not having anyone test anything on my son.”

The doctor smiled. “No sir, we aren’t using the population here as guinea pigs for any new procedures or drugs. Your son will not be receiving any treatment that hasn’t been tried or tested before.”

“Right. Your word on that?”

“Yes, he will not receive any treatment that has not been signed off on by you. However, I hope you understand, if we run a few more tests to assess his current condition, rather than having to rely on what the ER here considers to be a full workup. In fact that is what part of my foundation’s work here pertains to testing; not only are we are trying to teach the local staff, but we are also trying to provide better testing protocols to make sure nothing is missed when it comes to diagnosis and treatment.”

John stood there, not too sure if he liked the idea of people poking and prodding his son, though the thought of something being missed because someone downstairs hadn’t ticketed the right request box on the lab form was something he didn’t want to think about. After a second, John nodded.

“Thank you,” the doctor said.

“But what is your name?” John asked as the nurse came over to them again to disturb them.

“Doctor, you wanted to know the second he got here,” a nurse said, interrupting them.

The doctor nodded, picked up his cane and turned to John. “I’m sorry, but I have a very urgent meeting.”

John took a breath as he watched the man wander down the hall, feeling slightly uneasy that the man had walked away without giving him a name.

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The man was sitting in the office going through the various files on the desk.

“Excuse me, I don’t believe you have the authority to look through those,” the doctor said, though it didn’t stop his visitor from continuing what he was doing.

“You Sandeman?” came the response, the visitor not looking up through the pile of papers.

“Yes, and am I right in thinking that you are Major Lydecker?”

An ID was abruptly tossed across the table to be picked up by the doctor. “I wasn’t expecting you so soon.”

“Why?” Lydecker asked. “You have something you need to hide?”

Dr. Sandeman shook his head. “No, it is just I would have liked a little more time to be prepared. Some of the test results you requested won’t be ready for another couple of days.”

“Not to mention the fact you are still a couple of subjects short?” Lydecker replied causing Sandeman to tense.

“We are still in the process of identifying suitable candidates.”

“Can I ask why that is?” Lydecker asked. “The timetable you set stated you’d be at the primary manipulation phase by now. Not still picking source material.”

“And we’ve not fallen behind on that as my staff have already started lab work on the material we have Major, even if we are still searching for suitable sources of template DNA to fill the quota the military 'requested',” Sandeman sighed as pulled out a chair. “Our subjects here aren’t military personnel; we simply can’t demand they comply to everything we ask without drawing attention. The same can be said for the advanced testing, we have been sending samples back to Gillette or do you want us to explain to the hospital staff, not to mention t,he subjects in question, why we’re performing unnecessary genetic testing on a small subset of patients?”

Lydecker put down the file he had been reading. He pursed his lips in thought for a second. “A few days, you said.”

“Yes, and then we should be done here.”

Lydecker nodded. “Good. You know what that means, Doctor Sandeman.”

“I’m not too sure.”

“That will give you plenty of time to explain.”

Sandeman knotted his brow. “Explain what?”

“Everything in your files.”

[SIDURA]

Hello there was going to post this earlier but had a problem with my broadband.

Here we go another part - though think I should put a little not to say that Alec or Max will not be putting in a physical appearance as this is the story of how and why Dean's DNA got picked up by Manticore. Hope that doesn't make anyone who does decide to read this turn away or those who do read it won't be too disappointed as I am warning you in advance about this.

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Dean Winchester was bored. It had gone past ten and he had nothing to do, and for the life of him he could get to sleep, not without the sound of someone else breathing in the bed next to him.

Christ, he had been sharing a room with Sammy for too damn long.

He hobbled down the corridor to see if he could find a TV or someone to talk to whom he could have an actual conversation with or wouldn’t just pat him on the head and tell him to go back to his room, though he doubted he’d find anyone like that at this time of night in kiddy town.

“Hello?” he said as he found an open door which was lit with the glow of a flickering TV.

“Yeah?” came the response.

Dean inched into the room. There was a girl lying on the bed flicking through various channels.

“You got a TV?” Dean asked. “That sucks.”

“Excuse me,” she said with a casual turn of her head which allowed her to get a slightly better look at him.

“Not for you obviously,” Dean said, trying to explain his remark. “The one in my room is broken.”

She shrugged. “Not my room.”

Dean smiled as he started to make his way over to the chair closest to the door. “Okay, you won’t mind if I join you, then.”

She started to channel surf again. “No skin off my nose.”

“I’m Dean by the way,” he said as he tried to get comfortable.

“Don’t care,” she replied, not taking her eyes off of the screen. After a second, “Gracie.”

“Okay… Gracie. What are you in for?”

“Who says I’m in for anything?”

Dean quickly looked around the room. He didn’t see anyone else or to be honest anything that said the room was occupied other than the body of the teenage girl who was currently working her way through the limited selection of channels on the TV. “What, did you decide to break into the pediatric wing of a hospital just to watch TV?”

“Did I ask for your opinion?”

“No,” Dean replied. “Just giving it for free. Is that Creep Show you just passed?”

She flicked back a few channels. “Nope, Tales from the Crypt.”

“Okay,” he said as she seemed to settle on that as her viewing choice. “So if you aren’t a ‘prisoner,’ why are you here?”

“Visiting.”

He took another look around the room. There was definitely no one staying there. “You take a wrong turn or something?”

“Parents are doing the codling thing. Thought I’d leave them to it,” came the reply. “Mom’s the local minister, so they got dispensation to stay after visiting hours are up.”

“Brother or sister?”

“Brother, if it is any of your business,” Gracie said curtly. “You a captive, then?”

“For the night, hopefully.”

“Right.”

Dean nodded, and the two teenagers settled in for a quiet night of watching TV.

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“Are these all the potential donors?” Lydecker asked.

“As I said, we are still….”

“Yes identifying material, but what about the gaps in the intel you’ve got on the ones you’ve already found?”

“Not all the test results are not back yet,” Sandeman explained. “That is why there are some lapses in their files. Sending the samples back to Gilette takes time.”

“Right,” Lydecker replied.

“Though, with the information we do have, you should be able to see we have a mix of individuals that will give us all the materials we need to start the work on the X-5’s,” Sandeman said, leaning across the desk. “Or have you been sent here with some excuse for another delay? You know, even after we collect all the materials we need, we are still years away from live births as it is and these interruptions do not help. The military claim they want production to begin as quickly as possible but then they send men like you down here to take up my time, which I can be using more productively or is it this a prelude to another round of ‘lets discuss the budget?”

“No, it isn’t that,” Lydecker said, “but there will be oversight Doctor. There is not going to be any repeats of the X-2’s.”

“I quite agree, and after that disaster, it was agreed that any selection of genetic material would be left in my hands and my team’s hands and not be left to some military committee.”

“Not all of it is your choice,” Lydecker retorted.

Sandeman clenched his jaw. “No, it hasn’t been. But even the material we have been directed to consider has to meet MY standards this time. Anything less is going to be a waste of your, mine and the project’s time.”

“We can agree on that, however, genetic suitability or not, you are going to explain these,” he said throwing down the files.

“Excuse me?”

“We are going to go through every choice here, every possible donor and you are going to tell me why did you picked them.”

--------------------------------------------------------------

“Hi Dean,” John said as he came into the room and Sam jumped on the bed.

“Can I get out of here yet?” Dean asked.

“Doctor been in yet?” John replied.

Dean shook his head. “No, just a nurse. She took some blood and made me do a stupid test thing.”

“Test?” Sam asked as he started tucking into his brother’s lunch.

Dean nodded. “It’s like I’m stuck in school, dude.”

“They gave you a school test?” John asked.

“Yes, sir. She said it was to show if my brain had suffered something -- short term damage that wouldn’t have been picked up by them shining that stupid flashlight in my face last night.”

John peered at his son. “Nothing else? Just a test?”

“Wasn’t even that hard -- couple of math questions and what shape fit in the box. Remember this word and how it fits in a sentence sort of stuff and they had a guy in watching me as I did it taking notes.”

“That seems stupid,” Sam said, interrupting.

“Someone was taking notes?” John asked suspiciously as he had half a mind to scoop the boy out of the bed at that point. “Did he say anything to you?”

“No. Didn’t even ask me questions. Just watched me take the test thing and talk to a couple of nurses who came in and out including the one I asked about the stupid exam.”

“What did she say?” John asked.

“She said they gave me it to see if I could retain information at the cognitive level because, if my brain had received a bump, it might have some short term problems doing that.”

“Anything else?”

“Not really. Said that she couldn’t see any problems, but different bits of the brain do different things. That’s why she made me do lots of questions and stuff, asked me how I liked school. But the guy with the note pad – nothing. Just left when she did. But he wasn’t a social worker. Too well dressed for it.”

“Wait here,” John said, waking into the hall to find someone.

-----------------------------------------------------------

“Excuse me,” he said, finding a nurse. “My son said you gave him a math test.”

The nurse smiled. “Oh yes, it was one of the tests requested.”

“Why? What does how he is doing in school help you?” John asked.

The nurse peered at him. “The doctors here requested it. Your son was hit by a car, wasn’t he?”

“Yes, he was, so how does that tie in how he does in math and why was someone in there taking notes about him.”

The nurse looked from left to right, making sure that no one else was about. “Okay, I don’t think I should say this, because even though he is getting the regular treatments, the testing they are doing is a little out of the ordinary. That is why there was someone in there taking notes. He wasn’t really watching your son, but how your son took to the test we gave him.”

“What?”

“No, it’s nothing bad, honestly. I’d be worried about what they were doing if it wasn’t for the fact is the only invasive sampling they were asking for was blood and tissue samples. It is just some of the rest of it isn’t really regular practice, like that test. But I think the idea of those things that your son was made to do is to stop expensive testing or that is what those city docs are trying to prove.”

“So you gave him a school test?”

“With head trauma, if we can’t see concussion and there is no drop in the results of the test when we make him repeat it coupled with the CT that has been ordered for this afternoon, it means that there is no need to worry about any hidden brain injury.”

“So you are just being thorough?”

The nurse nodded. “I think the idea is in the future that doctors might be able to target where to concentrate testing. Though to be honest I’m not too sure.”

“So giving him a math test now means that they are less likely to prod his head?”

The nurse nodded. “Or if they have to they have a better idea where exactly to start looking even if there is any change as different parts of the brain is responsible for things, like talking is one part and dreaming another.”

John bit his lip. The less chance of anything wrong with Dean been missed through the use of a simple math test sounded like a good idea. Best deal with this now than possibly risk his son’s health and well being due to some time bomb brain bleed rearing its ugly head in some motel room in the middle of nowhere.

“Those visiting doctors are trying it out with lots of the patients here. I think it’s their latest thing -- cuts down on expensive tests and still makes sure that the patient gets what they need,” the nurse explained.

“So it’s a trade off. Your guys get training in this and those other doctors get to see if their idea works?”

The nurse nodded. “If it works, I’m guessing the HMO’s will jump on it, even if the foundation just reports a summary of preliminary positive findings. Anything to stop you getting a CT scan if you need it. But as I said, none of the tests they are requesting on patients is invasive, except for the blood and tissue samples, and none of them have any real effect on your son, except…”

“Except what?”

“Thinking about it, they are requesting more than we’d usually do. In fact, they are asking for more blood samples on a whole load of patients we have here.”

“So it isn’t just Dean?”

The nurse shook her head. “No, but those city docs haven’t done anything I’d say was unethical.”

“So you’re not worried?” John asked cagily.

“I don’t think so. The actual treatment is routine,” she said before smiling, “and what are they going to do with a couple of more vials of your son’s blood -- clone him?”

----------------------------------------

“Dad, do I have to stay?” Dean begged as John made a move to leave.

“Dean, the nurse said they’d probably need to check out your knee this afternoon. Inflammation hasn’t gone down enough yet.”

Dean pouted. “Don’t want to stay.”

“I know, dude,” John said, “but think how you’d feel if something was wrong.”

“But you said we would be going soon,” Dean begged.

“It can wait,” John said firmly. “I’ll call Bobby. He can deal with it.”

“Why, Dad? You said this time I could go along,” Dean whined, sounding younger than his fifteen years.

“Because your knee is still swollen,” John answered.

“I got hit by an SUV -- it isn’t going to be happy Dad!”

“Dean Winchester!” John snapped, causing his oldest son to drop his head and Sam to turn to his brother with the spoon of chocolate pudding still in mouth.

“Sorry, sir,” Dean said quietly.

John sighed, putting a hand on Dean’s shoulder. “Dean-O, I know you don’t want to be here, but I’m not going to risk you being less than one hundred percent. You got me?”

Dean nodded.

“Next time, you can come, okay?” John said. “But let them test out your knee, okay?”

“Yes, sir.”

“They haven’t asked you any questions apart from that test thing they gave you?”

Dean shook his head, “No, sir. Haven’t even asked me anything about the car that hit me or sicced the hospital social worker on me or anything. They’ve pretty much left me alone. Just the nurse this morning; she said that once the swelling went down, I’d get some more tests.”

“Anything in particular?”

“Nothing invasive, she said -- just some x-rays, a CT scan, and they took some blood and something to do with sound waves.”

“Probably an ultrasound to see if there is any soft tissue damage.” .

“Don’t they do something like that for pregnant girls?” Sam said with a grin on his face.

“What?” Dean asked. He turned to his father. “Dad?”

“They think you’re a pregnant girl!” Sam said in a sing song voice.

“Sam, shut up.”

“Dean’s having a baby, Dean’s having a baby,” Sammy sang with a grin on his face as the orderly came in to the room to take away the food tray.

“Sammy, shut up!” Dean said through clenched teeth.

“No way! They think you’re a girl.”

“Sammy, so help me,” Dean said moving as fast as he could across the bed to grab hold of his brother, though Sam easily got out of the way.

“Dad, please,” Dean begged his father as Sam continued to dance around the room crowing at the top of his lungs that his brother was a girl.

John ran a hand over his face. “Boys, behave, now!”

The orderly smiled as he watched the two boys obey their father. He picked up the plastic pudding spoon from the tray in a gloved hand, placing it in a plastic bag before writing on it ‘S. Winchester’.