Disclaimer: 'Supernatural' is the property of Warner Brothers, the CW, and other associated parties. I claim no ownership of the franchise, characters or settings, nor am I affiliated with the above parties in any way. The following is a fan-work, written for my amusement, and not for material or monetary gain. Please support the official releases. (I don't own this).

WARNINGS: Profanity, Spoilers for Supernatural series 1 through 5, and possibly 6 through 9, if I decide to carry this on that far- I really haven't decided yet.

Summary: Adam lives. Now comes the hard part. AU from 4x19: Jump the Shark. Genfic.

*Chronology note: While I'm generally going off of this awesome timeline, composed by hells-half-acre on LJ, for the purposes of this fanfic, I've pushed the boys finding out about Adam from mid-April, back to mid-February. This means, that for the purposes of this fanfic, the episode Jump the Shark takes place BEFORE 'It's a Terrible Life' (4 x 17) and 'The Monster at the End of this Book' (4 x 18)*

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Coalescence

By Payce D. Elui

Chapter 1: Divergence

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He'd heard it as soon as he'd found himself trapped in the hidden area of the crypt; the whisper of a shaken breath and a broken, dry sob. Dean's gun arm was up again as he paused, green eyes narrowed in concentration as he scanned the darkened room. Monsters were getting smarter- and it wouldn't be the first time something from 'beyond the grave' would have tried such a trick to get a hunter to lower his guard. His lip curled in distaste. Whatever trick this thing was trying, it wouldn't be working today.

"Hello?"

Though he wouldn't mind drawing the sucker to him.

There was silence.

Nothing for it, then. Letting out a slow breath, Dean crept further into the room, flashlight shining into every dark crevice a freak could possibly hide in.

He kicked past one of the many skeletons that were littering the floor. Something had definitely been having a party in here- the bones looked like they'd been pulled from coffins and picked clean.

Hunh.

There it was again. He angled the flashlight to the left, past tombs that had clearly been opened and emptied, and to the side where a few more coffins were lying flat, just waiting to be opened. Red stained one of them, and Dean tentatively ran a finger over it. It wasn't completely dry.

Right.

He cracked the tomb open, swearing when the flashlight came to shine on the face of none other than Kate Milligan. Most of her, anyway. Pointing the light further down her body showed a jumble of entrails ripping messily out of her severed belly. Swallowing, and shining the flashlight back up to her face, her eyes were glassy, and Dean let out a quick breath. There was nothing he could do for her. Damnit.

Hunh. Thud.

There it was, the muffled noise again, this time accompanied by a light bang. There was another coffin right next to Kate's. Surveying the room behind him once again to make sure it was still clear, Dean turned his attention to the other box. Whatever was making that noise was in there.

He broke the top off, prepared for the worst. The lid splintered as Dean lifted it off, a flimsy layer of dust kicking up and making his eye sting. He really wasn't prepared for what he saw.

"Whu- Adam?"

The kid trembled, inching back from him, as far as the coffin would allow. Not far at all.

"P-Please..."

He was thin, his skin yellowing and dirty. He made no move to lunge forward, instead trying to curl in on himself, and Dean stared down at him warily. This wasn't Adam. Couldn't be. Adam was fine, safe at home and being guarded by Sam. Shifter? If not, then what? What was the point in this? It looked half dead.

"What the hell is this?"

Gun still trained on the body, Dean reached for the flask of holy water at his hip. He bought it up, unscrewing the lid with his teeth, and splashed some of the liquid inside onto the near corpse of a kid. He flinched, but there was no smoke.

"Hey."

The kid whimpered, and Dean pulled out his silver knife, tucking his gun back into its holster. He pulled the kid's arm out- ("S-Stop..."), ready to scratch him with the knife, but stopped short at the mess.

Strips of flesh- real flesh, not the rubbery Shifter imitation of it- were missing from his arm, and the closer Dean looked, the more apparent it became that his shirt and jeans were soaked in blood and other bodily fluids.

This... this was Adam. He was too far gone to be some monster trick.

There was Kate's remains, the corpses that looked like they had been ripped open and picked clean, and now Adam, and the 'Adam' that had been cosying up to them over the past couple of days. This was looking more and more like-

"Damnit- ghouls?"

But ghouls usually fed on corpses- scavenging off of the dead and taking the form of the last person who was unfortunate enough to make it as their happy meal. Adam was in bad shape, but he wasn't dead.

Dean slipped the knife back into his belt and reached for Adam, anger rushing through his veins at the state of him. Cuts peppered his body, blood, tears and snot had all evidently run down his face at some point, and from what Dean was seeing, the tears had just started again. His eyes were barely open, but Dean could read the fear in them.

"D-Don't-"

The ghoul had been feeding on Adam while he was still alive. Son of a bitch.

Adam wasn't dead, but judging by the blood soaking his clothes, he wasn't far from it.

And Sam was alone with a ghoul who was having fun playing happy families for however long it took before it could get a knife in his back.

Dean grit his teeth.

"Adam."

He was trembling, words tumbling out of his mouth, broken but fast- pl-pleasedon'tpleasedon't-don't-

"Adam! Hey-"

He grabbed at Adam from under the armpits and dragged him out of the coffin. If the fast-paced breathing was anything to go by, the kid was on the verge of a panic attack. Dean set Adam down, leaning him against one of the walls.

"Hey. Hey." Dean snapped his fingers in front of Adam's face a few times, trying to get his attention. "Adam. Listen to me. You're gonna be fine- I'm getting you out. I'll get you help. I need you to hold still while I try plug the bleeding."

Adam blinked confusedly, breaths still coming fast and short, and Dean supposed that was the only answer he was getting right then. He had no bandages, and Adam's shirt was already soaked in old and new blood, but he only needed a short term solution. Ah, what the hell?

He reached for the bottom of Adam's shirt, ripping it off and into a few long strips. Adam tensed.

"Don't worry kid, I'll buy you a new one."

Dean swiftly wrapped the makeshift stiff, bloodied bandages to the worst of Adam's wounds, grimacing as he did so. Adam moaned.

"Hey, I know you're pre-med- you probably have a lot to say about how infectious this is, or how bad my technique is, or whatever- but it's the best I can do right now-"

He caught sight of the gashes on Adam's stomach, the trails leading up from his stomach to his chest. Damnit. There wasn't enough shirt to bandage him all up. He didn't have time for this. He pulled off his jacket, made to wipe off some of the gunk that had accumulated on Adam's face, before thinking better of it, and just draping it around the kid's shoulders.

"Can you still use your arms? Adam." The kid was blinking, off in his own head somewhere. There wasn't time to be gentle- Dean grabbed the kid by his shoulders and gave him a rough shake. His head snapped back, then forward. "Adam. Can you still use your arms?"

He looked up, focussing on Dean. "Y-yes?"

"Good. Try and drink some of this while I look for a way out. It's not a lot, but it's a start." He thrust the small flask of holy water into one of Adam's hands, ignoring the slight pang of guilt he felt as the kid flinched at his movements. Adam stared at the container in confusion.

"Drink it- it's water."

Nothing.

"For the love of-"

Dean unscrewed the cap, and gently pushed the mouth of the flask to Adam's lips, tilting it so that the liquid flowed steadily out. Drops of holy water dripped down the side of his face, and Adam shuddered. It had probably been a while since he'd eaten food, or had a drink, actually- probably didn't help the disorientation much. Dean let out a slow breath. He was looking forward to wasting the freak that did this to his family.

The canteen was soon empty, and Adam leaned back, breathing deeply.

"Th-thanks." Already his voice sounded a little less rasping.

"Yeah, yeah." He straightened up, picking his flashlight up from the side of the tomb. "Stay here while I look for a way out."

There was a sharp inhale of breath, and then a thump as Adam toppled onto his side. "No- d-don't leave me here- they'll get y-"

"Hey!" Dean sat the kid back up and glared at him. "I'm not leaving this place without you, and there's no-one here right now but us. I don't know how long it's gonna be that way, so you need to sit tight. Got it?"

"Wh-who-?"

"Dean. Dean Winchester."

Adam blinked, his eyebrows drawing together in confusion.

"Like... like John Winchester?" His voice broke. He was young, and this never should have happened, but Dean didn't have time to explain family history right now, so he thinned his lips and stared Adam right in the eye. Adam's eyes widened ever so slightly in surprise, and Dean sighed.

Yeah, he thought, that was my first reaction, too.

"Sit tight, kid."

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It was made pretty clear within the next two minutes that the door to the crypt was not going to budge. Which left the window above them as the only possible way out.

Stacking coffins to make a platform had been easy enough, but there was no way Adam would have be able to climb up himself- the kid was barely able to stand on his own two feet, which meant Dean had to go alone. He'd left Adam with a gun and a promise that he'd be back as fast as was humanly possible, though he wasn't sure how much good that would have done- John Winchester had hidden from his youngest pretty much every skill that he could ever make use of in a situation like this, and Dean found himself almost cursing the man before he clamped down on his ill feelings, his jaw locked so tightly it was starting to hurt. He'd reached the Impala and sprinted his way back (time, time, Sammy, time) to the broken window, tying one end of the rope he'd grabbed to a pillar and throwing the rest down.

"Adam? Get that around you- I'll pull you up."

There was no reply.

"Adam?"

Silence.

"Adam!"

Fuck.

A quick glance around the darkened room from the vantage point of the window had him panicking- Adam was nowhere to be seen, and Dean practically barrelled his way back through the broken window, landing heavily on the floor, spare gun in hand. He'd made the decision to leave an injured, disorientated Adam alone- if anything happened to the kid, it was on him-

"ADAM?"

There. He was there- right there, standing up just out of sight, with his back to Dean, ignoring him and not helping the situation in any way- Sammy was in danger, damnit, and Dean's anger reared up, a volcano ready to smother everything that got in its way, until he saw what the kid was leaning on, and the anger was blanketed by a cold rush of shame. Guilt.

Adam was staring at his mother's corpse. With her eyes and mouth wide in horror, and (what was left of) her entrails tangled around her midsection, she didn't make the prettiest of pictures, and any colour that had made it back to Adam's face since Dean had set him free had disappeared. There were tremors running through his body, and he was making a quiet choking sound, as if his stomach was trying to force its way up his throat.

Of course Dean had forgotten to close that casket before he'd left for the rope- because everything else had been going so well today.

"Adam."

"M-My mom-"

"I know," Dean said, pausing to clear his throat. He knew first-hand what this felt like, and Adam had seen more than he'd ever needed to of their life. He hadn't needed to see this- and Dean wished he'd had the foresight to close the damn coffin of Kate Milligan when he'd realised her son was alive, because damn if it didn't feel like her dead eyes were glaring up at him in accusation for the extra trauma he'd just stupidly inflicted on her child. But he didn't have time for this- for wallowing in self pity and recriminations- Adam didn't have the time, injured as he was, and Sam sure as hell didn't. "We need to go."

"But my mom-" Adam spun, lips turned downward and a look of sudden, utter rage on his face. Just by looking at him, Dean could tell the feeling was not one that Adam had worn a lot, and a part of him slumped in resignation at the reflections of his father, Sam, and himself echoed in the movement. What was it Sam had said? Oh yes- he's a Winchester; he's already cursed. "I'm not leaving my mom. Not- not here."

"Yes," Dean said calmly, "you are." He held up a hand as Adam made to protest. "There is nothing we can do for your mom, Adam. I'm sorry- I am, but the monsters that did this- they're out there, and I have to stop them. I can't just leave you here. You need to get to a hospital- I don't know how bad they messed you up, and I have a brother that these freaks are after right now, so you either come with me willingly, or I make you. We'll come back for your mom. Later. But we need to go now. I mean it Adam- I'm only saying this once. What'll it be?"

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Nineteen. He was nineteen, and huddled in the front seat of the Impala- Sam's seat. They couldn't have been more different, though. Sam took up more space than he probably should have, all arms and legs, and torso, (and hair). Adam was folded in on himself and staring at the sleeves of Dean's jacket, blinking slowly and probably running the nightmare he'd just lived through his head on a loop.

Dean was pretty sure he was at least three times over the speed limit, but a quick glance at his passenger, and he still fished behind him with his right hand, groping for a cardboard container on the back seat. He thrust it at Adam, dropping it in his lap.

"It's not much- half a burger from earlier- eat it."

Silence, and no move to pick up the offered food, either.

Damnit, when did these roads get so long?

He sped the car up. Hospital. Milligan residence.

Sam wasn't picking up his phone.

Dean glanced at his passenger again.

"How bad is it? Your injuries."

He was bleeding all over the car, but Sam and Dean both did that on a regular basis. He had been fine to walk to the car once they'd made it out of the crypt, but Dean had had to support him along the way. Still, for having spent a few days in the company of a ghoul, he was in... better shape than he could have been.

"Adam."

Silence.

"Adam."

Silence. Great.

"Look, I know you're pissed-"

"-Really."

Dean sighed, clamping down on his frustration and grabbing at his phone once again to try and get through to Sam. No answer. End of the road was coming up fast- left for the Milligan residence, and right for the hospital. He gave Adam as much of a side eye as he could, while driving at ninety-five down a thirty. The kid was pale, and he remembered the strips of skin that had been missing- the blood soaked clothes and bite-marks that were now hidden under his jacket. He turned his attention back to the road, fingers gripping the wheel so tightly that the knuckles were whitening.

"For what it's worth," he started haltingly, "I am- sorry about your mom. I know what that's like, and-" it gets better? No. You'll get over it? Hell no. What consoling words could Dean possibly have to say to make this better? This had happened because of their dad, because of their blood, and because they had failed him. If Adam was pissed now, he would be livid when he worked that out. If he hadn't, already. For now, he just needed the kid to talk. "You'll survive," he finished, feeling foolish. "You're one of us, and that's what we do."

He supposed that that wasn't comforting at all, but Sam had always been better at talking about feelings than he was. Sam, who still wasn't picking his phone up.

The end of the road. Left for the Milligan household; right for the hospital. Dean glanced at Adam, whose gaze was still fixed on his sleeves. Adam. Sam. House. Hospital.

Lips turning downwards, Dean swerved the car to the left. The Impala sped off towards the Milligan residence. Adam had survived thus far- he could hold on a little longer. Dean would make sure both of his brothers survived through the night.

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The door was ajar; that was the first thing that Dean noticed when he pulled up to the house, the headlights of his car turned low to minimise attention. There was nothing else off about the house, but it was enough- Sam was in there, and the door was ajar. Sam wouldn't have let that happen.

"Stay here," Dean said to Adam, face a mask of impassivity. "Keep the doors locked. I'll be back in minute." Adam said nothing, but aside from a few scathing words in the car earlier, that was nothing new, and Dean shut the door to the Impala as quietly as he could before jogging up to the house, gun in hand.

As soon as he made it through the door, he heard them. Sam was on his back on the table in the dining room, a knife settled by his head, and Dean could see the blood pooling by one of his arms.

Sammy!

He rushed forward, shooting the bitch that was leaning over his brother right in the face- the only way to deal with a ghoul was by aiming for the head. She dropped with a gasp, and once again Dean was faced with the cold, dead eyes of Kate Milligan, though this time it was just an impersonator. He shook it off, striding towards the immobilised Sam, knife in his other hand to cut off the bindings.

"Dean, they're Gh-"

"I got it, Sammy," and damn there was so much blood- "where's the other Adam?"

"Behind-!"

Dean was grabbed by his shoulders and thrown back into a flimsy door, grunting as it shattered leaving him to fall through into the kitchen, his gun sliding across the floor as Sam shouted in outrage in the background. The ghoul wearing the face of John Winchester's third son glared down at him, knife in hand.

"My father... and now my brother. You Winchesters just don't know how to stop breaking families up, do you? You're monsters."

"So you're the freak that was feeding off of Adam, huh? Nice trick, wearing his skin when he's still alive. Threw us off, there." Dean kept his eyes on the knife as the ghoul made his way forward. A knife on knife fight wasn't really his speciality, but he could deal.

"What can I say, I'm gifted. Kid didn't know what hit him- and my was he a screamer- his mom too, come to think of-"

A shot rung through the air and ghoul staggered forward. Dean disarmed it with a quick move, then punched it in the face, flooring it. In the doorway stood Adam- the real Adam, Dean's discarded gun in his shaking grasp. The ghoul wasn't dead- a shot to the back wouldn't do that, but it hadn't made to get up yet, and Dean edged his way around it towards the kid. Of course he hadn't stayed in the car. He was a Winchester- guts, stupidity, and a thirst for revenge made up most of their DNA, no matter how many messes it had gotten them into.

It was disconcerting, however; the expression on Adam's face was bordering on vacant, but he had yet to lower the gun.

"You have to shoot a ghoul in the head to kill it," said Dean, making his way to Adam's side. He licked he lips, glancing from the downed ghoul, back to Adam. "Here, let me-"

BANG.

That one missed, the shake in his arm causing the bullet to miss the target and embed itself in the floor.

BANG.

That one sure didn't. The ghoul stilled completely.

Dean blinked. Well... that was one way of handling it. Third time lucky- the kid was right on target. Adam dropped the gun and shuffled back into the wall of the kitchen, eyes facing the floor. He still looked so small, almost lost in the ill fit of Dean's jacket, and Dean had to say something- but Sam-

Sam was gasping on the table, the blood from his arms beginning to drip onto the carpeted floor, and Dean quickly moved forward, cutting through the ropes holding his brother down. Sam was pushing himself up, and Dean grabbed a towel from the sideboard and hastily pressed it to the wounds, swearing when he caught sight of another one at Sam's side. He glared furiously at the downed ghouls- if he could bring them back, he would, just so that he could kill them again.

"Come on. Come on. I got you, Sammy, I got you. Come on, hang in there buddy, you're ok. Hang in there. All right."

He pulled his giant of a little brother to his feet, and the man stumbled- the head-rush from a loss of blood. Damnit.

"Sammy?"

"I'm ok, Dean. Thank you. It's fine, it's... Adam?"

Dean looked up, and the youngest was staring right at them, eyes flicking from one brother to the next. Dean could see the kid trembling, his face three shades too light to be healthy.

"Right. Hospital. Now. Come on."

He started dragging Sam out of the door, ignoring his protests of but I'm fine, Dean, Dean-!

"Adam," Dean called back. "Come on. With us."

There was a slow drag of feet behind them, through the hallway, the doorway, and to the car, where Dean manoeuvred Sam into the front seat, slamming the door shut behind him, and sitting behind the wheel himself. Adam was staring right at him through the rear-view mirror.

Dean swallowed, his throat very suddenly inexplicably bone dry.

There was no time to dwell on it. He gunned the engine and sped for the hospital.

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I actually had a lot of fun with this- wrote it pretty much all in one sitting. Unusually productive for me, but it broke right through the writers block I've been having recently. Considering I've been considering this story since 4x19 first aired, it was weird that it took me this long to actually write it out.

The only real problem I had was forcing myself to write 'mom' instead of 'mum'. Literally every instinct I have was trying to stop me from doing it! The things I do for fanfiction... Do let me know if I slip up with any major britishisms.

Apologies if any characterisation is wonky- I'm kinda new to writing Supernatural. Just started watching it again after like... a two and a half year break, actually. I guess when it comes down to it, this is my take of what would happen if Adam lived. I've seen a few 'Adam lives' stories, but hopefully mine will be a little different. Thanks for reading!