The Animal

Rome half-smiled-half-sighed at his brother's whining, but tried to appear angry:

"Look, dude, if you'd given me half an indication that you need a hand, I'm there for you. It's when you do this overly-macho, I-don't-need-any-help thing that I think you're all right and want to be left alone, so I leave you alone!" He sat down on the edge of the bed, totally crowding Rawson's personal space, and gently but firmly began unwrapping the bandage around his arm, instead of wrapping it with more. He frowned at the deep wound. "Think you'll need stitches."

"Don't need stitches," Rawson grumbled, but without much force, because he looked about as strong as an anemic kitten.

"Stow it, dude, you've already proven to me you're not a reliable source of intel where your own health is concerned. I'm in charge now, and with you running on empty like that, I'd like to see you try to stop me."

This made Rome feel smug, and he grinned. Rawson was glaring, probably having deduced that discretion was the better part of valor in this situation, but not liking it a bit. Rome took a certain pride--in both himself and his brother--in that the only fight Rawson ever backed down from was with was Rome.

He nodded and went to the bathroom for the medical supplies, burning the needle to sterilize it, and threading it with surgical thread. He washed the area with alcohol--marveling that Rawson hardly squirmed--because while he liked to whine, Rome knew his brother was a beast when it came to showing pain--numbed it with topical anesthetic, and set to work before he could complain much.

"As for the group--they're a good bunch of people. No way in hell we're leaving Elenna, kid can hardly look after herself. Georgie's hot, and handy with a gun, and anyway I think those two have started to be friends. The old Russian dude's pretty awesome, too, he--" Rome faltered a bit as this got awkward, decided nothing was worth keeping secret, and plowed on, "he kept me level when you were taken." He tried not to convey the unadulterated ground-snatched-from-under-him terror he had felt those hours Rawson and he had been separated, but he always knew Raws could see right through his pathetic attempts to mask what he was feeling. "Anyway. The FBI chick isn't that bad, either. I mean, hopefully she'll forget she saw me when she goes back to work Monday--or, you know, whenever she's cleared for duty again--Lenna said she was stabilized but still out--and we won't even have to deal with her. But I think she's got a case for us, so it wouldn't be fair to cut all ties and make her hunt us down again if she needed our help."

Rawson rolled his eyes as Rome started in on the other arm, which needed stitches as well, though fewer. "You're avoiding me."

"Avoiding what?" Rome asked guiltily, feeling a flash of panic.

"When are we skipping town?"

"Oh. Uh. A couple days maybe? Wait 'til Pops is out of the hospital, at least? I can lay low, even, if you want..."

Rawson was shaking his head. "Dude, that thing murdered a dozen policemen in this podunk little craphole, and that was probably all of them, to, which is the only reason you're breathing free air right now. Days is enough time for them to call in to other precincts and get replacements. Way too much, time, actually. We should be gone yesterday."

Now it was Rome's turn to pout. They couldn't just leave their new friends, could they? He had only just gained their trust, he felt like, after being nothing but a burden to them, and now Rawson wanted him to skip out?

"Could you stay here with them? Maybe..." Rome stopped as soon as he started.

"What am I gonna do, bleed on them?" Rawson asked dryly.

"Yeah," Rome replied with a laugh, "like the Black Knight." He paused, breathing out a sigh. "Okay, okay, we'll get gone. Gonna finish stitching you up, though, first, Frankenstein. No, wait." Rome once again retrieved his phone and dialed up Elenna. He put it on speaker and tossed it down on Rawson's stomach so he could work while he talked.

"Hello?"

"Elenna. Hey. Rome. We're heading out within the hour so get ready to rock."

"Um...Rome, Aly and Dan aren't ready to leave the hospital yet. Aly's still unconscious." Elenna was whispering.

"She'll be fine, Lennie, let's get outta dodge. Probably be easier on her career if the wanted felons--"

"Felon," Raws snapped pointedly.

"--were out of the way. We don't even really know what her motives are, anyway. Walking wounded welcome to follow us. You gave me Tex's number, right? I was thinking she'd know where we could lay low for a few days....Lennie, you listening?"

A pause. Rome tied off his stitches and moved in to work on Rawson's chest, the worst of the wounds.

"You listening to me, chica? We gotta get gone."

"I'll stay."

"What?"

"She saved my life, Rome, I can't get it out of my head. I owe it to her to be here when she wakes up!"

Rome was shocked. Elenna had never snapped to him like this before, much less countermanded him. He stammered for a moment, struggling with an anger he by all rights shouldn't be feeling, "Well--what--do you even--who will--" before finally: "Elenna. I'm not leaving you alone."

"You won't be leaving me alone. You get you and Rawson somewhere safe. I'll follow with the rest. Don't worry about me, Rome."

And then she hung up.

"She hung up!"

Rawson snickered. "You know they do have to leave the nest sometime, bro."

"This isn't funny, Rawson, she could get hurt!" Rome cleaned his hands, picked up the phone, and almost called her again. But no. Rawson was right. She was right. If she wanted to grow up on him and be a sentimental, retarded moron that was her frakking decision.

Didn't mean he had to like it, though.

"Okay, whatever." He sighed. "One more stitch and you're a whole man. Then I'll load up the car and we're gone. So say we all?"

"So say we all." Rawson finished the traditional response. Good. That was one thing out of the way- at least they were getting his wanted felon brother out of a town that was sure to be swarming with cops in the next day or so. At least they wouldn't have to turn their lives from Horror Movie Extravaganza to Prison Break: The Remingtons.

And speaking of horror extravaganza...

"Hey Rome?"

"What?"

"Care to do a bit of explaining?" Rome looked almost nervous. Alright, if he looked nervous- and Rawson could read him like an open book most of the time, they had spent the majority of their lives within a hundred yards of one another- that meant he had something he was hiding. Or feeling guilty about. Or was afraid Raws would go overprotective brother (aka 'psycho' in Rome's opinion). Which meant it couldn't be anything good.

"So, why is it that I'm getting sudden onset migranes and images of Rome's Fracked Up Life playing in my head? Love ya bro, but it's not exactly my idea of fun daytime tv. Or a normal twin thing."

Of course, ultimately it had proved a good thing. He had gotten around to save Rome in time. And maybe his mental shouts had managed to give the Scooby Gang something to work with. But it was a definite change of the supernatural variety, and therefore not something Rawson wanted to let continue without an explanation of how and why.

"Tell me about it," Rome grumbled, fidgeting with the wolf bracelet on his wrist. Although his shoulder was doing much better, his wrist was still swollen to a sizable, but manageable, girth, so that he couldn't get it off even if he wanted to. He wished he'd remembered to ice it last night. Good thing it was his left, anyway.

"Wait, what? You saw--you had a vision?" Rome felt guilty. Maybe it was some sort of contagious disease, this psychic thing? And he was hurting his brother? He suddenly remembered how weird he felt when Agent Smith had turned into the Skin Walker--how he had felt like he was undergoing a vision, except broadcasting instead of receiving--maybe that was it. "Was that how you knew where I was?" he asked quietly, not managing to look at his twin.

"Yeah. I saw--first a killer headache, like I imagine you get, and then I saw mom's rosary, and handcuffs, and the skinwalker. Then I woke up and was perfectly fine and knew you had been arrested." Just the facts. Just like Raws.

Rome nodded slowly. He had to think about this. "Lemme get the car loaded up," he said, and managed to stall for about half an hour packing their bags and another ten helping Rawson out to the car. That Rawson didn't even bitch that he was driving his car told Rome that he owed his brother the truth...about...well, sort of everything.

Rome opened his mouth, paused, and then shut it again. He sighed, started the car, turned down the radio to talking volume, and tried again.

"I think it's my fault," he finally said miserably. "I-I'm not doing it on purpose, though," he said with a worried glance at his brother, who looked on, neutral and stoic as ever. Good, nothing to react to. Not the fear and hatred and shame he expected, anyway. Raws was so good by him, for all his irritability: at every turn Rome gave his twin new reasons to put him down like Old Yeller and yet he knew Rawson would stand by him until Rome killed him.

"I--something happened. I don't know. It might be related to the bracelets, you remember what Vor said. But it's like, I can't control it, at all. Something just goes off in my brain and stuff happens. I'm the conduit, not the controller. And it's really pissing me off because the nightmares--"

"Nightmares?"

Deer in headlights. "Uh." Rome blushed, wondering if he could construe that into the post-traumatic-stress kind of nightmares that would sort of make sense for someone like himself, but he never out-right lied to Rawson. No way that was gonna fly, even if he wanted to try. "I...I see...it's sort of like I get these visions when I sleep, sometimes. But less strong, less accurate. Like I dreamed days ago that I was going to get in trouble with the police but...but the actual scenario didn't pan out like I dreamed. Just the general theme was there, you know?"

He looked down at his hands, where angry red welts stood out on his wrists from the handcuffs. "I-I'm sorry. I don't know what else to say. I wanna be honest with you, Raws, really I do, but I don't know any more than you. It's like--I feel like a girl wearing a really short skirt in the wrong end of town, man, like a non-secured wifi hotspot for weird occult sh*t to slam me in the brain, like I'm asking for it. And I don't like it. And I wanna get rid of it. I mean, I must have been dropped by these things like six times in 24 hours start to finish, so it's officially not a fluke thing anymore." He pouted deeply. "I don't know, man. I'm sorry. That's all I can say. I'll...I'll try to be stronger. I'm sorry."

"Really? A girl wearing a short skirt. Why is everything about women with you? Wait- never mind. Forget I asked you that. It's you. Of course it's related to women and/or sex in your head."

Rome looked unimpressed.

"Seriously, whatever Rome. But you know I've got your back, right? I mean, when sitting here carefully not moving praying I don't start bleeding on my baby."

"You're baby, Raws? You sound like Lenna."

"Hey! I might take offense to that- wait, scratch that. I do take offense. And it's Baby #13.5. It's a point five 'cause I take off half a car number for the convertibles." He nodded to emphasize this point, as though that somehow made it less odd.

"You're certifiable, dude."

Rawson held up a hand to stall any further conversation, tilting his head slightly.

"Do you hear sirens? I think I'm hearing sirens. I ways off- say, back by the hotel, perhaps? Romie? Get us the hell out of Dodge."

"You're fracking kidding me!" Rome grumbled, trusting instantly Rawson's ears before trying to listen for the sirens himself, throwing the vehicle into gear and peeling out of the hotel parking lot. He grinned at his brother through the heightened fear: "Well, least we know when we're not wanted, huh Raws?"

"We are wanted, and that's the problem. Now shut up and drive. Take the frontage road."

"Wilco," Rome replied, swerving wildly to avoid getting off the freeway. Sure enough, there was a police roadblock up on the highway out of town. A few of them, seeing him not only driving badly but driving a vehicle with an APB out on it, started up their sirens and gave chase.

"Aw crap," Rome said, hitting the steering wheel and urging the Camaro faster. Rawson's baby could move like no other, he had to give her that, although it didn't help that this thing could be seen from fracking orbit...

"I just had a thought."

"Well, that's a new one."

"Shut up, Raws, I'm serious! This...this was my dream. About getting in trouble with the law...my dream was a high-speed chase down--" they flashed past the last of the buildings, where nothing but open desert stretched out before them, "here."

Rawson looked nervous. And Rawson never looked nervous. "What happened in the dream?"

"We died. But Elenna was there, too, in the dream. And I think...I think Allison's car, too. So we might be safe."

A monstrous black SUV suddenly careened out in front of them, and Rome skidded wildly off the lane into the dirt, running over some scrubby blue-green bushes before he got traction again and bailed back onto the road. He barely missed the SUV, which lunged for them again, though slow enough on the draw to look laughable next to the sports car. The next highway entrance was coming up. There he'd lose them for sure.

"That SUV was totally in my dream, though!" he shouted worriedly. Rawson was moving around in the seat next to him. "And don't you fracking dare go for that P-90..."

The look of how-the-hell-did-you-know-that? shock on Rawson's face told him that that was precisely what he had been planning on doing. This sucked out loud. Why couldn't he dream about winning the lottery or something and have that come true? So unfair.

This is a place-saver for whenever we get to writing the end of this episode, to include:

* The Remingtons evade the police (get lucky? do something awesome? get rescued from an unlikely source? Holyfield calls off the pursuit, preferring to nab Agent Wesson?) and make it to Tex's without too much trouble.

* Not having been there for a full day, however, Rome has a Vision (possibly with Tex's help, meditation, herbs, something) of their friends in trouble...they decide to go back to Gallup.

* End with the Remington boys riding off into the sunset.

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Stay tuned for the next episode of Supernatural: Reanimated Gimme Shelter