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tanaquificTitle: Meeting his match
Fandom: Dark Angel/Supernatural
Rating: General
Words: 1105 words
Summary: It's 2019, the post-Pulse world is a mess, but Dean Winchester's still hunting.
Author's Note: Written forpeaceful_sands' awesome prompt Dark Angel/Supernatural, Dean, Joshua and Alec, Dean's following reports of a 'dog man' and finds Joshua and Alec. Thanks to Scribbler (scribblesinink) for the beta.
Disclaimer: This story is based on the Cameron/Eglee Productions/20th Century Fox Television series Dark Angel and the Warner Bros. Television/Wonderland Sound and Vision/Eric Kripke/Robert Singer series Supernatural. It was written for entertainment only; the author does not profit from it nor was any infringement of copyright intended.
oOo
The world had gone to hell after the Pulse hit. To be honest, the world had been going to hell—or Hell had been coming to the world—well before that. But after the Pulse, even normal life turned hellish. A tank of gas for the Impala cost more than the damn car was worth. You couldn't travel anywhere without running into checkpoints and needing local sector permits, which weren't hard to forge but keeping up with them was another complication to doing the job. And the chances of finding a decent burger were generally less than zero.
There was only one good thing about the Pulse, Dean reckoned, as he checked the map again—it had been a while since he'd been to Seattle—and that was the way it had wiped out all the police databases, so he'd gotten a clean slate. And you could still hustle pool.
A few hours later, having left the Impala a couple of blocks over, hoping she'd still be there when he returned, he stood in the shadows across the street from the house where his target was supposed to be holed up. Maybe it was just its derelict, creepy air that led the locals to claim this was where the "dog man" had his lair. Then Dean saw a flicker of light and movement behind the boards that covered the windows. Someone—or something—was home.
Moving stealthily, Dean circled the house and approached the back door. It was unlocked and he crept inside. He could hear someone moving at the other end of the house: shuffling and snuffling. Inching forward, he saw a sliver of light falling across the hallway from a door cracked open a fraction. He carried on moving forward, straining his ears for any hint he'd been detected. If this "dog man" truly was dog-like, he might have a keen sense of smell. At last, he got close enough to peer through the gap.
A large, shambling figure was standing in front of a canvas splashed with bright colors, head cocked to one side and brush in hand as if deciding where to put the next dollop of paint.
"What the—?" Dean breathed.
Seemed the figure had a dog's acute hearing: it whirled around. Realizing he'd lost the element of surprise, Dean kicked open the door, bringing up his gun and pointing it at the creature. He had a moment to take in heavy brows and a long nose, before the odd mouth broke into a toothy grin.
"Alec!" The creature beckoned him in with both hands.
Dean blinked and shook his head, but didn't lower his gun. "Who the fuck is Alec?"
"Alec is my friend," the creature proclaimed proudly. Then the smile faded and his brows lowered. "Not Alec. Older."
"Right," Dean muttered. Days like this, he felt older than everyone, ever.
A faint sound behind him made him whirl, gun still held high, until he found the source: another figure lurking in the dark hallway in the direction from which he'd come himself.
"Who the hell are you?" It was a man's voice, but Dean couldn't make out much more than that the guy was about the same height and build as himself.
"Not Alec. Older." The dog-man had moved toward the door. Dean backed up, so he was out of his reach and could turn his gun on either of them.
"Yeah, I can see that." The second man strolled along the hallway toward Dean as if the gun trained on him didn't bother him at all.
He took a final step that brought him into the light spilling out of the room where the dog-man stood and Dean did another double-take as he found himself looking back at his mirror image. Or at least, his mirror image from maybe twenty years earlier. The three of them stood frozen for a long moment, before Dean managed to croak out, "You must be Alec."
"Uh-huh." His doppelganger leaned against the wall and crossed his arms, but Dean didn't think for a second that he was relaxing. "And, like my man Joshua there says, I'm his friend. So who the hell are you and what are you doing in my friend's house?"
"Dean. Winchester. And I'm a Hunter." Dean's gaze slid sideways for a second to the dog-man—Joshua—who was still looking at him as if he was pleased to see him.
"Manticore?" Alec's posture had stiffened slightly.
"What?" Dean shook his head. "No. I don't know what that means."
Alec's eyes narrowed a little, evaluating him. "So who do you work for?"
"No one." Dean rolled his eyes a little. "It's kind of a family business. Finding creatures that are hurting people and making sure they stop. Wendigos, chupacabras, rugaroos...."
He decided not to mention demons or vampires or Leviathans. They were usually a bit too far out for most folks, although given he was talking to a dog-man and his exact double, these guys might be more accepting. Or maybe not. He tightened his grip on his gun, aware he was sweating and wanting to blot his palms on his jeans, but reluctant to give this Alec even the slightest opportunity. He had a feeling that, even though he had a weapon and Alec appeared to be unarmed, he was going to come off second best if this turned violent.
"You here for Joshua?" Alec inclined his head slightly in Joshua's direction.
Dean nodded. "I heard some stories. People talking about some kind of dog-man. Wanted to check it out."
"And if he's not hurting people?" Alec held Dean's gaze steadily.
"Then it's not my business." Dean gave a slight shrug, not yet ready to take Alec's word for it, though he was getting no sense from Joshua that he was the kind of monster that needed putting down. There was nothing in the room with those strange, vivid paintings to suggest Joshua was out snacking on passers-by and bringing their bones home as chew toys. Something else was bothering Dean rather a lot, though. "But I am wondering why you look exactly like me."
Alec rolled his shoulder, as if meeting his double was an everyday occurrence. "Manticore must've used your DNA as the base before they mixed the rest in."
There was that name again. "Manticore?"
Suddenly, Alec grinned. He swept his arm in the direction of the doorway where Joshua stood, inviting Dean to enter the room. "Got a few hours to spare? Reckon we could use an ordinary with your skills. And it sounds like that family business of yours could benefit from some help from our kind...."
Fandom: Dark Angel/Supernatural
Rating: General
Words: 1105 words
Summary: It's 2019, the post-Pulse world is a mess, but Dean Winchester's still hunting.
Author's Note: Written for
peaceful_sands' awesome prompt Dark Angel/Supernatural, Dean, Joshua and Alec, Dean's following reports of a 'dog man' and finds Joshua and Alec. Thanks to Scribbler (scribblesinink) for the beta.Disclaimer: This story is based on the Cameron/Eglee Productions/20th Century Fox Television series Dark Angel and the Warner Bros. Television/Wonderland Sound and Vision/Eric Kripke/Robert Singer series Supernatural. It was written for entertainment only; the author does not profit from it nor was any infringement of copyright intended.
The world had gone to hell after the Pulse hit. To be honest, the world had been going to hell—or Hell had been coming to the world—well before that. But after the Pulse, even normal life turned hellish. A tank of gas for the Impala cost more than the damn car was worth. You couldn't travel anywhere without running into checkpoints and needing local sector permits, which weren't hard to forge but keeping up with them was another complication to doing the job. And the chances of finding a decent burger were generally less than zero.
There was only one good thing about the Pulse, Dean reckoned, as he checked the map again—it had been a while since he'd been to Seattle—and that was the way it had wiped out all the police databases, so he'd gotten a clean slate. And you could still hustle pool.
A few hours later, having left the Impala a couple of blocks over, hoping she'd still be there when he returned, he stood in the shadows across the street from the house where his target was supposed to be holed up. Maybe it was just its derelict, creepy air that led the locals to claim this was where the "dog man" had his lair. Then Dean saw a flicker of light and movement behind the boards that covered the windows. Someone—or something—was home.
Moving stealthily, Dean circled the house and approached the back door. It was unlocked and he crept inside. He could hear someone moving at the other end of the house: shuffling and snuffling. Inching forward, he saw a sliver of light falling across the hallway from a door cracked open a fraction. He carried on moving forward, straining his ears for any hint he'd been detected. If this "dog man" truly was dog-like, he might have a keen sense of smell. At last, he got close enough to peer through the gap.
A large, shambling figure was standing in front of a canvas splashed with bright colors, head cocked to one side and brush in hand as if deciding where to put the next dollop of paint.
"What the—?" Dean breathed.
Seemed the figure had a dog's acute hearing: it whirled around. Realizing he'd lost the element of surprise, Dean kicked open the door, bringing up his gun and pointing it at the creature. He had a moment to take in heavy brows and a long nose, before the odd mouth broke into a toothy grin.
"Alec!" The creature beckoned him in with both hands.
Dean blinked and shook his head, but didn't lower his gun. "Who the fuck is Alec?"
"Alec is my friend," the creature proclaimed proudly. Then the smile faded and his brows lowered. "Not Alec. Older."
"Right," Dean muttered. Days like this, he felt older than everyone, ever.
A faint sound behind him made him whirl, gun still held high, until he found the source: another figure lurking in the dark hallway in the direction from which he'd come himself.
"Who the hell are you?" It was a man's voice, but Dean couldn't make out much more than that the guy was about the same height and build as himself.
"Not Alec. Older." The dog-man had moved toward the door. Dean backed up, so he was out of his reach and could turn his gun on either of them.
"Yeah, I can see that." The second man strolled along the hallway toward Dean as if the gun trained on him didn't bother him at all.
He took a final step that brought him into the light spilling out of the room where the dog-man stood and Dean did another double-take as he found himself looking back at his mirror image. Or at least, his mirror image from maybe twenty years earlier. The three of them stood frozen for a long moment, before Dean managed to croak out, "You must be Alec."
"Uh-huh." His doppelganger leaned against the wall and crossed his arms, but Dean didn't think for a second that he was relaxing. "And, like my man Joshua there says, I'm his friend. So who the hell are you and what are you doing in my friend's house?"
"Dean. Winchester. And I'm a Hunter." Dean's gaze slid sideways for a second to the dog-man—Joshua—who was still looking at him as if he was pleased to see him.
"Manticore?" Alec's posture had stiffened slightly.
"What?" Dean shook his head. "No. I don't know what that means."
Alec's eyes narrowed a little, evaluating him. "So who do you work for?"
"No one." Dean rolled his eyes a little. "It's kind of a family business. Finding creatures that are hurting people and making sure they stop. Wendigos, chupacabras, rugaroos...."
He decided not to mention demons or vampires or Leviathans. They were usually a bit too far out for most folks, although given he was talking to a dog-man and his exact double, these guys might be more accepting. Or maybe not. He tightened his grip on his gun, aware he was sweating and wanting to blot his palms on his jeans, but reluctant to give this Alec even the slightest opportunity. He had a feeling that, even though he had a weapon and Alec appeared to be unarmed, he was going to come off second best if this turned violent.
"You here for Joshua?" Alec inclined his head slightly in Joshua's direction.
Dean nodded. "I heard some stories. People talking about some kind of dog-man. Wanted to check it out."
"And if he's not hurting people?" Alec held Dean's gaze steadily.
"Then it's not my business." Dean gave a slight shrug, not yet ready to take Alec's word for it, though he was getting no sense from Joshua that he was the kind of monster that needed putting down. There was nothing in the room with those strange, vivid paintings to suggest Joshua was out snacking on passers-by and bringing their bones home as chew toys. Something else was bothering Dean rather a lot, though. "But I am wondering why you look exactly like me."
Alec rolled his shoulder, as if meeting his double was an everyday occurrence. "Manticore must've used your DNA as the base before they mixed the rest in."
There was that name again. "Manticore?"
Suddenly, Alec grinned. He swept his arm in the direction of the doorway where Joshua stood, inviting Dean to enter the room. "Got a few hours to spare? Reckon we could use an ordinary with your skills. And it sounds like that family business of yours could benefit from some help from our kind...."