Title: With a Bang – part 1 - part 2 - part 3 - part 4 - part 5 - part 6 - part 7 - part 8 - part 9 - part 10 - part 11 - part 12 - part 13 - part 14 - part 15 & Epilogue *Completed*
For all other stories in the bang!verse go: here
Rating: SPN/DA Crossover - PG - Gen – AU in the year 2020 clap your hands and believe!
Spoilers: General (for all aired episodes)
Disclaimers: SPN & DA & characters are owned by their various creators.
Summary: Two worlds collide and all three explode.
Alec knew how to make a quick exit, but with three slow Ordinaries to worry about it made the task of saving his own ass slightly more complicated.
“How long do ya think it will take them to figure out we're not coming?” Dean looked around the scrap yard. “I like to panic on a schedule.”
“They'll be here in about fifteen,” Sam answered.
“Minutes or seconds?”
“There's time to start a crossword,” Dean's smile didn't last long as he stopped to consider his brother. “And how exactly would you know that by the way?”
Alec wanted to say something in his father's defense when Sam uncomfortably shifted under the questioning stare. He got ready to suggest they redirect their energy to running for their lives when fate stepped in and unfortunately smiled.
Logan staggered over to a pile of tires and started puking his guts out.
“Whoa,” Dean stepped away to keep his boots safe. “What's that about?”
“It's nothin'. He's fine.” Alec almost gagged himself when the smell of used whiskey mixed with the tang of briny sea air. “He's just uh really stressed out and tired and...” he winced when another tragic bout of heaving started. “Okay, he's kinda wasted but he'll be okay in a sec. Truth be told he does this all the time--”
Dean snapped his fingers and pointed triumphantly at Logan. “Ya know, that gives me an idea. Alec, grab the extremely heavy gas tanks outta the truck would ya?”
Alec was a little confused as to how they were supposed to make a quick get away with two giant containers of highly combustible fluid. Busy rolling the barrels off the bed of the truck, he didn't know where they were headed until everyone started climbing over the pier railing. The ancient tug boat listing in the water wasn't an alternative Alec would have considered on his own. In fact, if he had been included in the vote he would have definitely given the plan a double-hands-raised nay.
“Are you kiddin' me?” Alec hefted a bulky barrel over onto the rocking deck. “Maybe I should stay here and take my chances with White...”
“Careful with that stuff,” Dean helped Sam cast the huge mooring ropes off the sides. “We aren't going to see a gas station for a while.”
Alec jumped on board and took a look around at their new mode of transport. The floating piece of scrap with the flaking steel hull didn't seem very land worthy let alone sea worthy. Logan slumped to a seat under the rusted handrail and somehow turned a shade greener.
“It looks good,” Sam flipped down the engine room hatch. “It's got all its parts, I have no idea if they work but they're all there.”
“Sounds great to me,” Dean pushed Alec towards the boat's tiny bridge. “Age before beauty, pal.”
Alec allowed himself to be stuffed into the small compartment as his uncle squeezed in behind. Its musty interior didn't inspire confidence in the craft's ability to do much more than sink. If the engine below looked anything like the decay of the controls and foggy glass dials then they were in a lot of trouble. Alec tapped the dead weather radar monitor and gave the corroded board of circuit breakers a dubious look. These old tugs didn't require a key but they needed a decent jump start off a battery. His uncle was already pushing all the popped breakers back in place and prying off a loose panel. Dean wedged a pocket knife into the wires to close the circuit and the entire thing suddenly sparked and sizzled to life.
The alternator gauge twitched and the needle jumped up past the red and into the green.
“Beautiful,” Dean got up and dusted himself off. “Let's fire her up!”
When his uncle paused over the controls Alec abruptly realized that Dean wasn't exactly sure on how to proceed. And that meant there was no one present authorized or trained to operate a boat. Unless Alec counted himself.
“I got it,” Alec shouldered his uncle out of his way. “Just sit back and relax.”
“Oh yeah?” Dean studied Alec's face for a moment. “You sayin' you know how to fly one of these things?”
“Maybe,” he worked his hands over the unfamiliar levers and shifts. “I know one-hundred-and-thirty-one checklists and procedures for most boats this size and this one looks pretty standard so--”
“Sure, but have you ever actually been in one of these crates before?”
“Nope,” Alec took another look at the gray expanse of water before them. “I've been in a pool a few times?”
“Give it your best shot, kid.” Dean shrugged. “We're kinda in one of those 'nothing much to lose' scenarios anyway.”
Alec wondered which hand was luckier to cross your fingers on.
“Here it goes!”
Everyone on deck flew backwards as the engine thundered to life and rattled the old tug like a blender filled with bricks. Dean was tossed conveniently into the captain's chair as the entire aft section of the boat dipped down and sent the bow straight into the air. The cramped bridge was small enough for Dean to lunge forward and quickly yank the controls back. Lurching back and forth in the water, the hectic whine of the prop promptly sputtered and died.
Alec waited a second for his heart to start beating again.
“Okay, step away!” Dean shoved Alec. “I didn't know you were gonna go and flood the damn thing!”
“I did not!” Alec pushed him back. “This thing is an old piece of--shit!”
Alec took himself and Dean downwards when a bullet exploded into the glass porthole beside them. Several more shots thudded into the walls, ringing and dinging against the metal hull. Alec had thought 15 minutes was a generous estimate for how long it would take White's men to figure out they hadn't taken the bait. But his father had timed it right down to almost the second.
Alec chanced a look and saw Sam toss Logan an extra gun as they both took cover and returned fire.
“This thing isn't a piece of shit,” Dean muttered as he got to his feet. “It's a victim of neglect.”
Catching the sound of tires hissing on gravel, Alec spotted another SUV pulling up beside the others. His eyes widened when he saw the armored guards pour out with semi-automatic machine guns under their arms.
“Uh, I have a different plan,” he swallowed nervously and tugged at Dean's arm. “I hope you've been practicing your backstroke--”
“Just hold your horses.”
Alec flattened himself against the floor as the machine guns started spraying bullets across the bow.
“This innocent diesel has just been sittin' cold for God knows how long,” Dean murmured as he adjusted the throttles and tweaked the fuel mixture. “You just.. gotta... treat her... right...”
“Dean!” Sam had dodged behind the wheelhouse for cover. “We're out of time,” he warned. “I mean it--”
“Yeah, yeah, here comes the miracle.”
Dean flicked the shift and slowly eased both engines wide open.
After a stutter and roar, the churning prop sent a wave of white water crashing against the dock of armed men. With another push on the controls they were leaving the machine guns behind and heading fast into the safety of the open harbor.
“I don't know where we're going but it ain't gonna be far,” Dean swung the wheel to point the boat north. “This baby is quick but the tanks are running on fumes.”
“Over there!” Sam shouted over the wind whipping through the broken windows. “Do you see it?”
Dean squinted into the horizon and picked up what Sam was pointing at before Alec did. Like many of the half sunken vessels in the harbor, the dark shapes of the wrecks had become an unnoticed part of the landscape. The tanker had run aground years ago but no efforts had been made to remove it from where it had lodged itself into the sand. Tipped slightly on its side, the water came up past one half of the rotting hull. The other side formed a natural cove from the weather coming in from the ocean. Alec spotted a few other smaller wrecks near by. If they got close and anchored they might be able to fake it as a salvage boat.
He grinned as he calculated the 2.7 nautical miles it would take to get them there.
Alec heard Logan on the metal stairs behind him.
“We did it, Logan! See I told you it would be okay--”
Sliding into the cabin, the man collapsed into Alec while clutching an arm closely to his side. Alec quickly diagnosed the bullet graze on the upper bicep as superficial, but that didn't mean bleeding to death wasn't on the list of concerns. Ripping the fleece cover off the captain's chair, Alec eased Logan down to apply pressure on the wound. Pressing on the wad of cloth over his hand, Logan nodded up at the storm clouds that were making the day as dark as night.
“Before White gets any choppers in the air,” he was pale but his eyes were focused. “We should shut off all the lights.”
The bright flood light over the deck went dark as Dean yanked a row of circuit breakers.
“W-White might contact the marine patrol,” Logan stifled a groan when Alec peeled back his jacket. “Or any of the military divisions in the area--”
“He won't,” Sam crouched down to check Logan for any other injuries. “He's gonna wait.”
“If I were him I'd sink this bath toy with a torpedo,” Dean shook his head. “Three times.”
“Ames White won't touch us until he knows its safe to make a move.”
“You sound awfully sure about that, Sammy.”
Alec didn't mean to flinch when his father touched his face. With all the bullets flying it hadn't occurred to him to worry about the glass. The cut under his eye wasn't too bad. Nothing a good band aid and a few stitches wouldn't fix right up.
“I'm absolutely sure,” Sam wiped the blood across the thigh of his jeans. “Because they want Alec alive.”
To their collective relief the anchor lowered without a hitch. It dropped less than a hundred feet of chain before hitting bottom and tethering them in the shadow of the wrecked tanker.
All that was left to do was shiver and wait.
Below deck was a dank galley that had been cleaned out by scavengers long ago. But it was out of the wind and a hell of lot warmer than standing out in the drizzling rain. Despite the lulling rock of the waves Alec couldn't fall asleep like everyone else did. To be fair Logan had faded quick after Sam convinced him to take a pain killer they'd found in the meager stock of the first aid kit. Dean had cleaned out a padded stall in the corner, pulled a pile of moldy life vests over his head for warmth and was out like a light.
Alec shut the galley hatch behind him and glanced up at the peeling painted letters of the oil tanker's namesake looming overhead. The bold Russian letters read: Salvation
His laugh lost on the wind, Alec zipped up his coat and took a seat on a dented gas barrel.
Hanging around outside wasn't exactly pleasant, but the view was a lot better. The city sparkled through the hanging clouds as the tug dipped and rose on the slow passage of waves. It wasn't a huge surprise when he heard his father's heavy tread on the metal grate behind him.
“So are you gonna tell anyone how you did all that?” Alec asked.
“You're predicting their every move,” Alec whipped the wet hair out of his face to look his father in the eye. “It's like you're listening in on their communications. Like a wiretap, or bio-implants or--”
“I guess I am in a way,” Sam shrugged. “If you listen hard enough you could hear it too.”
“What?” Alec pulled his collar up. “I-I can't do that stuff.”
“Stop thinking so hard and just trust me.”
Alec shut his mouth and clenched his jaw in frustration.
Sam wanted him to give a try with the crazy psychic super powers he didn't have? Sure. Why the hell not? Part of the glory of owning real parents seemed to always include an attempt to appease their unreasonable expectations anyway. Alec stared hard at the shoreline where they'd managed to leave Ames White behind. He had no idea what he was even trying to do. Listen. Listen to what? The magic in the misty air? The enchantment of the rain turning into sleet? Maybe his father meant that damn cow bell on the mast that wouldn't stop banging against the wheelhouse--
“Here,” his father said. “I'll give you a lift.”
Alec felt a weird tremor go through his body when Sam's hand closed over his.
At first he thought the roar of the wind had suddenly grown inexplicably stronger. Alec looked at the deck under his feet in confusion. The engine had been shut down so the hiss and thrum of the pistons couldn't be responsible for what was warping into what sounded like... language. It was all an incoherent scramble of static. Covering his ears, he gradually realized it wasn't anything he could block out even if he wanted to.
“I-I can hear them,” Alec gasped. “Talking. I hear people talking.”
“Good, Alec,” Sam's hand squeezed tighter. “What else do you hear?”
“They're gonna wait,” Alec tore his gaze off the shore and blinked at his father. “They want us to think we've gotten clear so they can catch us with our guard down.”
“We're all connected,” Sam said. “You, me, all the demons and every human being that has been given their blood. The closer we are the stronger it gets.”
Alec's eyes widened when he heard the surge of whispering voices begin to shift. With his heart hammering in his chest he understood the new thoughts were coming from Logan and Dean. Their doubt and fear was as tangible in their slumber as a shout out loud. Alec whimpered when it started getting too fast and too much. His father was right about the extra bandwidth going around. He had a flash of panic as he remembered Meg's thoughts flooding his head. All the noise and chaos straining into his skull until he thought it was going to explode--
Everything went silent.
He watched in disbelief as Sam slipped his hand back into a jacket pocket.
“It's time you told me, Alec.”
“Told you what?”
“What Missouri showed you,” his father said quietly. “I know you don't want to but it's important.”
Alec felt a surge of pain as his mind was abruptly overloaded with too many images at once. Just brushing against the memories stashed away in his brain made him want to throw up.
“She showed me lots of things... you, Dean, your lives, some black car...” he stuttered. “I saw Kansas, I saw California, I saw... I saw everywhere.”
“Look here, in the city,” Sam leaned down to look him directly in the eyes. “Look for the center of the gate.”
“D-Dean said the whole town is the gate.”
“That's right but every gate has a lock. You've been living on top of this thing for a while and you're as connected to it as you are to me. You have to concentrate. You have to tell me where it is so I can stop them.”
“But I don't know where the center is,” Alec started to shake. “I don't know anything!”
“My brother wants to take you away from here,” he steadied him by the shoulders. “He's scared to lose you again and so am I. But this gate is gonna open with or without you, and we have to stop it or everyone in this city is going to suffer.”
Alec thought of the photographs Logan had been sent. If all the bad guys needed was an X5 then they had a pretty good specimen to do their work for them.
“You mean Max,” Alec mumbled. "They're gonna use her to do it?"
Sam's silence answered that question.
Alec's gaze flickered back to the shoreline. The clouds shifted just enough for the dull glitter of the skyline to reappear.
Standing out like a beacon was the place he'd seen in his dreams. Over and over again until it had been burned onto the back of his retinas, but he'd had no idea why until this very moment. Everything he'd seen suddenly made perfect sense. If the crowded city was a gate in disguise then it kept its lock in plain sight for all its citizens to see too.
“It's right there,” Alec pointed. “That's it.”
Sam turned and looked.
Standing at around 600 feet the Space Needle was one of the tallest structures in town.
His father smiled a little.
“Guess we get to play tourist tonight.”
go to part 12