If you have a problem with the summary, don't freak. I hate it, and i'm going to change it as soon as possible.
Disclaimer: i don't own Supernatural or Avengers. other people do who are not me.
Honestly, this one was all on Sam.
He insisted on going to New York City, and no matter how much Dean told him it was a bad idea, Sam wouldn't listen.
Come on Dean, last time the world thought aliens, it turned out to be fairies. We should at least check this out.
To Dean, it looked like everything had been taken care of. The aliens were gone, all because of some glorified team of freaks and weirdoes. Job well done; now moving on. But no, Sam had to be the stubborn bitch he was and insist they go to New York. And it was so unfair every time because he always gave him the puppy dog eyes.
Dean slammed his fist against the cold steel door and sighed. Next time Sam asked him for something, Dean was going to tell him where to stick his puppy dog eyes.
Really, they had only been in New York for a couple of hours. Impersonated a couple of feds, looked at some alien bodies that were really aliens and not some supernatural freak show (told you Sammy boy), the whole nine. They had been packing up in their motel room to leave for Missouri, when some sort of gas had started coming out of the vents and everything went dark.
It hadn't been supernatural, Dean had triple checked all the wards that morning. So that meant dealing with his least favorite species- people.
The lock on his door clicked, and Dean stood and stepped behind the door. It opened slowly outwards and the hottest agent he had ever seen stepped inside. She gave him a cold look, her red curly hair framing the superior look on her face. Dean's eyes lingered (he was a guy, what did you expect), and he asked "Didn't know supermodels were invited to the party."
The woman rolled her eyes, as if used to dealing with people like him, and pointed a hand gun at his face.
"Let's move along now, without some cheesy pickup lines. The Director will see you now."
Honestly, if Dean didn't' hate these people for drugging and kidnapping him in the first place, he might actually have been impressed. The whole place was like one giant, organized ant colony, everyone running around trying to please the big man on campus. Other agents were carrying reports and files and some really cool looking weapons around like they did this every day, while Dean was dragged along in handcuffs by some sexy cop chick. Everything was polished metal and looked high tech, way to high tech for Dean to even try figuring that out. That was more Sam's department.
The thought of his brother sent his big brother instincts into full throttle. He hadn't seen him since the motel room, and now that the chick was here, waving guns around like it was her job…
"Where's my brother?" he demanded, levelling her with a glare. The chick looked back, gave him a once over as if examining him like a science specimen, and said "Your brother is fine. He worked through the drugs faster, so we had to give him an extra dosage."
Dean's anger flared. No matter how hot this chick was, no one messed with his brother.
"If you hurt him, I swear to God-"
"What, you'll hit me with a pickup line and buy me dinner?" she asked, interrupting him.
She underestimated him.
Her mistake.
He would show her how bad ass Dean Winchester really was.
Reluctantly, he followed her up the few steps to the elevator, and the metal doors slid shut with a quiet hiss. Standing alone in the elevator, he looked around but found nothing he could use as a weapon. The place was a giant metal box.
"If you're thinking about escape, I would suggest not trying it. SHIELD has dealt with a lot more nasty people then you." The chick said from his left, not even pretending to be nice. Dean rolled his eyes, but it still pissed him off. This woman was a real bitch.
The doors slid open and the chick led him off and into a dark, semi lit meeting room. Almost like a corporate office, but a lot more intimidating, if Dean hadn't faced down the Devil before.
The black guy with the eye patch, lounging in one of the chairs, caught his attention first.
"So, you the casting for the role of Captain Douchebag, or do you normally drag in innocent people for a third degree?" Dean asked, his trademark smartass not able to resist mocking him about the eye patch.
"Oh, you are far from innocent, Dean Winchester." The man said, throwing down a thick file with his name emblazoned in black across the front.
"I didn't know we were on a first name basis." He remarked, pulling the file closer and leafing through it at random.
"You and your brother Sam have been quite a pain in the ass for the government as of late. It appears that you and your brother have died multiple times over the years. House fire killed your mother. Father took you on the road and you moved around under different names. Charged with several counts of murder, grave desecration, arson?" Eye Patch looked up at him and Dean shrugged, smirking slightly. These glorified county cops didn't know a thing about him and his brother. He had that on them at least.
"That's all fine and dandy, but what does this have to do with you sticking your nose in our business." Dean asked, reclining in one of the chairs.
The man sighed and said "I know what you and your brother specialize in. Supernatural and paranormal investigators. I've gotten word about you through, what is it, the hunting world?"
He felt his blood rush down to his feet and every smart ass answer he had in his arsenal wouldn't apply to this situation. He grasped at straws.
"Hunting?" he asked, giving his best shot at a laugh "My brother and I haven't been hunting in our lives. And supernatural is just crazy talk."
Eye Patch pulled a picture from his pocket and slid it across the table. Dean pulled it up to glance at it, but stopped. It was him and Sam, not a few hours ago, in the science lab with the alien bodies they had been checking out.
"SHIELD knows about you Dean, but it appears you don't know about SHIELD. Natasha, a crash course for the young man."
The woman walked forward out of the shadows and said "SHIELD is the Strategic Homeland Intervention Enforcement Logistics Division, a government branch that protects the world from, other threats. Aliens, monsters, super powered beings with an ego. Seems we are in the same line of work."
Dean propped his feet on the table and felt royally screwed. This was not how he imagined their trip to New York going.
"Look, if this is about impersonating a FED, let me just explain…" he started, but the man cut him off with a wave of his hand.
"Let's save ourselves from whatever excuse you try and spin and get straight to the punchline. We know you and your brother are hunters, and we need your help."
Dean almost swallowed his tongue. All masks ripped away from him, he turned to the one thing that never failed. Insult and smart ass his way out of here, hopefully with Sam in tow.
"Alright, so you know about hunting. What does this have to do with us?" he asked, sitting up and staring Eye Patch in the eyes – eye - whatever.
"This has everything to do with you. You are the best in your little fellowship group, and we needed the best on this case."
Dean felt his interest perk despite himself. "A case?"
Captain Hook sighed and said "It seems like we're dealing with a supernatural outbreak in New York. I have word from several trustee sources that you are the best in the business. And we only deal with the best."
Sam hated being drugged.
He hated to admit it, but he actually had been drugged several times in his rather short life. Pain drugs at hospitals and during makeshift first aid in whatever motel room they had at the time, kidnapped once by a rogue werewolf desperate to live. He wasn't sure if demon blood counted, but it definitely fell into his personal category. They always left him with a funny taste in his mouth, nausea, and a foggy brain that had him blurting whatever thought came to his mind. And with a person like Dean around, you just knew he was going to use that against you.
So when he awoke to a pounding headache and numb limbs, he could only groan from his spot on the floor.
The world was tilting in dizzying circles, and it took a lot of concentration to focus on just the door, near his left. He had been tossed carelessly on the floor, probably while he was unconscious because he didn't remember the impact. He lifted his head off the ground and nearly threw up on himself as the nausea hit.
Again, he hated being drugged.
He pulled himself slowly into a sitting position and propped up on one elbow, wiped a hand over his face. God, he felt like he was suffering the world's worst hangover.
The door opened with an echoing clang and he flinched, the movement jarring against his sensitive stomach and making his headache triple in pain. The blond man standing there he knew was not Dean, though he could only see a fuzzy outline. Just the way he was standing told him everything he needed to know. Most likely, this was his captor.
He knew immediately he had been disarmed of anything that could have been a weapon, including his flask of holy water and the pouch of salt their father always insisted they carry everywhere with them. He could only settle for scowling at where he assumed the man was standing and mutter "G'd damn you."
The man smirked and stepped inside the cell, closing the door behind him.
"Alright Goliath, let's have a chat." The man said conversationally, like they were meeting in a bar rather than his prison cell. He turned away from the man and said "N't talking t'you. Where's D'n."
The man shook his head, which made his head spin along with it. "I'm asking the questions here Sammy."
The burst of anger made him shout "Don't c'll me S'mmy!" which only helped in worsening his headache. He clutched his head in his hands and grumbled "What did you do t'me?"
The man smiled and sat beside him, and Sam knew that for all his bulk, he was weak as a kitten right now and couldn't exactly shove him away without upsetting his own precarious balance. So he settled for glaring at him sullenly like a pouty five year old and ignoring him.
"What we did to you was your own fault. We didn't think your Gigantor body would work through the drugs so fast. We had to give you a booster shot or else you would have taken my head off." The blonde man said, shrugging and leaning on the cold metal wall.
He did remember that, faintly. He had woken up in a plane, with Dean tied down and out for the count beside him. Some guy was trying to tie him down, and he had shoved him aside and attempted to stand. Several more people came rushing towards him and he had felt the pinch of a needle in his bicep before everything had gone dark again and he woke up here.
He grunted, and the blonde man seemed to think of that as permission to continue.
"You and your brother were detained here and I presume your brother is speaking to the Director right now about his proposition."
Sam glared at the man and said "We dn't work f'r demons."
The man smiled, as if amused. "Demons? Man, we must have given you too much sedative. Demons aren't real."
Sam just rolled his eyes. If the demon wanted to play stupid, he wasn't going to fall for it. And he couldn't exactly stab him with Ruby's knife (since it wasn't on him in the first place). But if the demon wasn't trying to kill him, it only meant that he wanted to deal.
"M'not making a deal with you hell boy." He grunted, pushing himself away from the demon slowly. The blonde man shrugged and said "Man, you must be as high as the plane right now. Whatever, let's just talk."
Sam pushed the man, and surprisingly he fell backwards. He stood on unsteady feet. "I don't make deals with demons. Take a hint." He spoke slowly, making his words as clear and precise as he could. He swung his fist and somehow hit the man again. But he was still under the influence of drugs and the man was prepared now and on edge. Blondie tripped him and called out for something, but Sam couldn't hear over the sound of blood pounding through his head and his stomach rebelling whatever drug was pumping through his veins. The door opened with a thundering clang and his headache made him want to just bang his head against a wall until the pressure was lifted.
Then there was another sharp pinch on his arm and he fell into darkness again.
Dean couldn't stop himself.
He laughed right in Captain Hook's smarmy little face.
"You think that we'll work with you, after you drugged us and kidnapped us! Man, you have no people skills at all, do you?"
Eye Patch was still serious though, and Dean had to resist the urge to laugh again.
"The fate of the city is at stake, and you're the only people that can help." The man said.
"Oh, how many times have I heard that? The world is ending; Lucifer broke out of his jack-in-the-box. I think me and Sammy have more than filled the requirement for helping the world. Find some other hunter; there are more than just us. Let someone else save the people. Me and Sammy, we've had more than enough on our plate since day one."
He opened the door, and made to step out and the hot red chick was in his face again, less than a couple inches from him.
"Listen, I don't like working with stuck up, know it all bastards who think that because they hunt a couple monsters makes them pro. But you were requested, personally."
Dean snorted and said "Alright, I'll bite. Who invited us to jump on the crazy train?"
Eye Patch scowled, and said bitterly "That is for me to know, and you to never find out."
Dean rolled his eyes. "So, you're asking for me and my brother to trust you, even though you kidnapped us and forced me to be here!"
He could almost see when Eye Patch's posture turned threatening. He stalked closer and said in a low voice "SHIELD is known for getting what they want. By different ways of…persuasion."
Dean raised an eyebrow and said "Dude, I went to hell. I can handle whatever version of 'torture' you can throw at me."
Captain Hook still gave him the creepy one eyed stare, and only said "There are more methods to convince someone then just physical pain."
Dean rolled his eyes and said "Whatever douchebags. I'm out of here, and I'm taking my brother with me."
He turned on the hot chick and said "Take me to him."
She crossed her arms over her chest and said "What makes you think I'll take orders from you?"
Suddenly, red lights flashed from above, and a blaring alarm screeched overhead.
"What the hell is that?" Dean shouted over the noise, and he spotted the chick and Eye Patch trade a look.
"I'll take you to your brother." The red head said, and she started towards the elevator. He glanced back at Eye Patch, but he was already leaving in another direction.
"Come on, what are you, deaf?" She asked.
I got to find Sammy and get out of this nuthouse. He thought to himself before following her.
The screeching alarm brought Sam into of the haze of semi-consciousness. Eyes squinting against flashing lights and the headache that threatened to split his skull, he stumbled to his feet and leaned drunkenly against the wall.
"One engine down! Repeat, one engine down!" a robotic voice overhead blared. Sam didn't know what that meant, but it sounded bad. Of course, everything that was within ten feet of him and Dean either broke or went bad or died.
That brought his brother back to mind. He looked around, but Dean wasn't there. Where was he? He wouldn't leave him behind, even on a plane in the air.
He lurched to the side along with the ship and stumbled, cracking his head against the far wall. His headache erupted like a volcano, fire burning his eyes and making his nerves scream in agony. He grimaced and held his forehead in his hands. Where was Dean? Dean could fix this, he always fixed everything.
"D'n!" he called out thickly, rubbing his eyes and feeling all of five years old again. "D'n!"
The world was spinning in lazy circles, that sped up faster and faster with every breath. He knew he was going to pass out soon, but he needed to see Dean."
The huge metal door flew open, and a tall figure was standing, silhouetted in the shadows. Sam shook his head and all he saw was red.
"Sammy!" he heard a familiar voice call. He looked up and touched his hairline. His fingers came away red. The color was really bright and it drew his attention, until the voice called again.
"Sammy!" hands were shaking his shoulders and Sam blinked, recognizing his brother standing not three inches away, holding him upright as the ship tossed and turned.
"D'n." he whispered happily before his legs collapsed underneath him and he pitched towards the ground.
"I got you Sammy." Dean grumbled, holding him half upright. Sam blinked at his brother and frowned. When did he get there? He thought his brother hated him, what with the demon blood, and getting chummy with Ruby and the apocalypse starting all on his head. He felt tears in his eyes. He didn't want Dean mad at him. Dean was his brother, his superhero. He couldn't have him mad at him.
"M'sorry D'n." he mumbled, and clutched Dean's wrist. "M'really s'rry."
Dean patted his head and said "I know little brother, but let's get you out of here before you go all Samantha and start really crying."
He felt himself being heaved on Dean's shoulder and tugged along. His feet wouldn't stay still underneath him and he glared at them.
"Stupid feet." He grumbled, and Dean chuckled.
"Yeah Sam, if only your Gigantor feet were working."
Sam felt a lot better now that Dean was here. Dean mad everything alright, that's all he ever knew. So he knew Dean didn't mind when his eyes closed and he fell limp.
He felt a hand slapping his cheek gently. "Sammy, stay awake. Come on Sam."
But he was so tired, and Dean was here. Everything would be okay; he would take care of it. So he let the darkness that had been waiting at the edges of his mind pull him in and he felt a smile on his face.
"Shit." was all Dean could think to say. His brother flopped loosely, like a rag doll as he barely held them both upright. He groaned and glared at the hot chick, standing by the door and watching the scene with dead eyes.
"Come on; help a guy out a little bit." He shouted at her, petting Sam's hair when he flinched. He felt disgust pool in his gut when his hand came away slightly red and he wiped the half dried blood on his jean leg.
The red head rolled her eyes but took Sam's other arm and slung it around her shoulders, even though she was a foot and a half shorter then Sam at least. But some of the weight was off his shaking arms and that made him feel a lot more confident.
"What the hell is going on?" he demanded as they carried Sam through the chaotic mess that had erupted around them. People scrambled around talking about fires and broken machines and falling. Dean ignored the spike of fear that dug into his heart. Really, after all he had faced, he was still stuck with the heights thing. He would have thought his fear would have shifted to the Devil, or the apocalypse or something like that.
Shaking his head to clear the thoughts from his brain, he went into big brother auto mode. Feeling Sam's pulse, quick and fluttering and weak under his fingertips, he glared at the chick beside his brother. Really, if she hadn't been helping him at that moment, he would have chucked her in the cell and left her there to rot.
"How many drugs did you pump into him?" he questioned, checking Sam's breathing (short gasps) quickly before hiking his brother higher on his shoulder and moving towards the exit.
The red head shrugged, and Dean pointedly rolled Sam's head to rest on his shoulder and away from the chick. He didn't trust anyone in this freak show circus camp.
Then the room pitched and they stumbled forward, and then slid to the ground and fell. The entire floor went 45 degrees and everything not attacked to the floor tipped to the ground and slid to the opposite wall. Dean felt his stomach roll, the lasting effect of the drugs making him slightly less steady on his feet then he would like. Swallowing his fear, he turned and demanded "What the hell is happening?"
"Alert to all agents. Alert to all agents. We have been boarded. We have been-" the robotic voice cut off with a snap and the static of electricity and Dean felt his hands coil into fists.
"Castiel!" he shouted as the ship tilted again, as if falling from the sky. And he did not just think that thought because they were going to be fine. Perfectly safe in a falling metal death trap they had been kidnapped and forced onto.
"Cas, get your feathery ass down here!" he shouted, pretending his voice wasn't pitchy with fear as the alarms blared louder and the red lights flashed in a hypnotic rhythm.
The red head shook her head and said "You're crazy! What the hell are you shouting for!"
"You called." a familiar voice said behind him. Dean spun around to find the familiar accountant angel standing there, as if it didn't bother him they were plummeting to certain death. Then all of Sam's weight crashed on his shoulders as the red head pulled a gun, aiming for Cas square between the eyes.
"Who the hell are you? How did you just appear like that?" she demanded, taking a step away from both of them.
"I'm an angel of the Lord, Natasha Romanov. Dean, we have to leave immediately. I would guess we have about two minutes before the entire ship crashes into the ocean and sinks to the bottom." Cas said, and Dean's stomach gave a sickening twist.
"Great Cas, let's get out of here." He said, grasping the angels shoulder. Only for transportation purposes, not because he had trouble maintaining his balance. At least, that's what he told himself anyway. Cas took Sam's limp arm and slung it over his shoulders, relieving him of the heavy weight of his comatose big little brother. Honestly, the kid ate carrot sticks and celery, and he still grew way beyond six foot.
Ignoring the red head with the gun, he pointed somewhere over his shoulder and said "Maine is nice this time of year. We can head there."
Cas looked at him weirdly and asked "You will not ask me to save the ship, along with the four hundred sixty three people on board?"
Dean glanced at the red head, Natasha, and said "Eh, they don't seem like the greatest of people. Let's get the hell out of Dodge."
"We're over New York; we're nowhere near anyplace called Dodge." Cas said blankly, and Dean shook his head. There was never any getting through with this guy.
"It's an expression. Let's just haul ass and split town."
"You're just going to leave us to die, when you can save us with, whatever your friend is there." Natasha said, gesturing to Cas.
"She's correct Dean. It's not right. I thought you and Sam saved people." Cas looked to him and Dean sighed.
"Fine, save the ship. But as soon as you do, we're leaving." He looked at Natasha and said "Tell your boss the answers no. There are other hunters in the world; you can call up one of them. Plenty of them will work for a little dough. But not me and definitely not Sammy."
He nodded to Cas, and he vanished to the sound of rustling feathers. Instantly, the ship stopped tilting and came to shuddering halt midair. The floor levelled out and Sam groaned lowly beside him. Leaning his little brother down and propping his head at his elbow, he brushed hair away from Sam's face and whispered "Hey, earth to Sam. You in there kiddo?"
Sam's eyes opened blearily, eyes skipping around the place in a blur of motion.
"D'n." he called out, one hand reaching out and touching his nose.
Sam smiled and said in a loopy voice "Everything's spinning."
Dean shook his head. Every time Sam got high enough to be funny, it was in some dangerous situation where Dean wasn't able to appreciate this in its full hilarity. He sighed and glanced back at red head.
She glanced between him and where Cas had been standing seconds ago.
"Where the hell did he go?" she demanded, shifting her aim from empty air to his chest.
Dean turned his back slightly on her and said "He went to save your flying castle. You're welcome. Now please, I got a little brother whose going to become a sobbing mess in the next thirty seconds, so a little privacy."
Natasha blinked at him, but her gun didn't move.
Suddenly, a blonde guy skidded in from the hall and the man started talking immediately.
"What the hell just happened? The ship was about to crash to the ground when the engine was repaired, like in a split second. All the computers frizzed out and we didn't catch any video footage."
Then he noticed him and Sam sitting on the ground. Shaking his head, the blonde guy ignored them and continued "The Director wanted those two," he jabbed his thumb in their direction "brought in to see him immediately."
There was the fluttering sound of wings and Cas was standing right behind the blonde guy. There was a guy, with salt and pepper hair and coal black eyes glowing with murderous rage, scowling at Dean, the black Sharpie devil's trap drawn on his forehead making him immobile and unable to move even a muscle.
"Demons attacked the ship." Cas deadpanned, as if the demon prisoner he had wasn't clue enough. "And I captured one to interrogate."
Dean grinned at Cas and said "Alright, time for some bitches to pay."
He stalked over to the demon Cas held, but the blonde guy stood between them.
"What do you mean demons?" he asked, staring at him straight in the eye.
"Turn around douchebag. That's a demon. Now move out of the way, let the adults handle this." Dean said, pushing the man aside.
"Hey, Winchester." Natasha pointed her gun at Sam's head. "We need answers, and no smart ass remarks are going to cut it."
Dean tensed, and felt his already deep set hate and urge to kill them grow stronger.
"Cas." He said. The angel teleported, or whatever angels did, behind Natasha and her gun appeared in his hand, which he crushed in a fist. She stared at him with a blank expression, which was the only thing Dean gave her credit for. Well, that and the tight cat suit she wore.
"Don't touch my brother, or think you have anything that can scare us." Dean said, pushing Blondie aside and jabbed the demon in the chest.
"Who sent you to attack the plane?" Dean demanded, and the demon snorted.
"Like I would tell you dimwitted fools. I'm more worried about what the boss would do if I talked then if I told to you bastards." The demon scoffed, and glared at Dean pointedly.
Dean rolled his eyes and turned back to Natasha.
"Where did you store our weapons?" he asked her. Natasha crossed her arms and said nothing, her lips pursed.
The blonde guy just gave him a funny look and asked "You really think we would tell you guys."
"Your weapons are in a locker in the flying machine near here. About three hallways down, locker 2847." Cas answered for them. Dean glanced at Cas and said "Thanks Cas."
Cas nodded and said "I must leave you for now Dean. My forces in Heaven are demanded my presence. I must attend to them."
Dean nodded and said "Wait a second, you're just going to-"
The angel vanished from sight, the demon vanishing along with him.
"Leave us. Damn it." He finished and sighed. Really, he had to leave this instant, with two very pissed off looking government agents standing there glaring at him.
Natasha looked around, as if waiting for the angel to appear behind her and throw her from the plane.
Blondie ignored his partner and said "Alright, you're coming with us. The Director will want to hear about your 'angel' buddy."
The sarcastic tone in the man's voice made him want to roll his eyes, but Dean withheld the urge in favor of holding his semi-conscious brother closer.
"Hell no." he told the woman who he was starting to subconsciously call bitch.
Natasha rolled her eyes, as if amused he defied a direct order. That bitch needed to be knocked down a peg or two.
"Come on, you don't get a choice." Blondie told him with a shake of his shoulder, jostling Sam and making him groan in complaint.
Dean gave him the darkest scowl he could and growled "You try and hurt my brother again, well, it's your funeral."
The blonde guy laughed, as if death threats made by Dean Winchester were something to laugh about.
Well, he'd learn the hard way.
Nick Fury had been in the business of SHIELD for a long time, longer than most agents. He had climbed his way up the ladder of power until he reached the top, as Director. He didn't enjoy the position, but he thought he did a better job than most of the other jack asses that had applied.
Now, with his helicarrier falling from the sky and most agents turning to him demanding "What do we do?" he cursed his position to hell and prayed to God that something would stop them all from dying.
And it turned out God was listening. The computers all frizzed out and crackled, and suddenly the helicarrier up righted itself, and all the machines were back online to reveal nothing super-powered nearby.
So he had called Clint and told him to bring the two Winchester prisoners up to him immediately.
Sitting at the table and giving Clint a scowl, he demanded "I ordered you to bring them immediately. Does immediately sound like five minutes later?"
Clint looked down at his hands and said "Sorry sir, but we had some, complications."
And the two complications half walked, half stumbled through the door. Dean Winchester, with some sort of Goliath giant's arm slung over his shoulder, hobbled across the room and gently deposited him in one of the chairs. The man had the glazed look of someone drugged up so high he might as well be flying. Dean sat down and rolled his shoulders, and waved a hand in front of his drugged brother.
"Sammy, eyes on me." He told him with a stern voice, and the man's head lolled in his brother's direction.
"D'n." he moaned softly, and blinked blearily at Fury himself.
"Who r'you?" he slurred, and Fury was actually surprised that he was even this aware.
"I'm Nick Fury, Director of SHIELD. And if you don't mind Sam, I would talk to your brother." He said, staring the defiant man directly in the eyes. Dean met his gaze steadily, and asked "What the hell did you do to my brother?"
He looked to Clint, who was in charge of the younger Winchester's care and interrogation, obviously neither had been accomplished.
"Barton, what happened?" he demanded, and Cling shrugged.
"I went to interrogate the prisoner as soon as he was coherent. He resisted and I was forced to sedate him again. I was just going with orders, sir." Clint said, straight faced and serious. Fury shook his head. If he knew that the second Winchester would have been drugged till he was sky high, he would have left both brothers with Natasha to deal with.
"I apologize for the inconvenience. We will send your brother to our infirmary and they can care for him." Fury said, but Dean stood and knocked his chair back.
"No. You will not touch my brother. We are leaving, and we are leaving now." He said, silently daring Fury to deny him.
"You see gentlemen; I have what your hunter friend classified as a 'demon problem.' Countless attacks have been made on SHIELD; all missing civilian people possessed by something that made their eyes turn black. We had no choice but to kill him to keep ourselves alive. I was told by your hunter friend that you handle these types of problems. Now I want to know is, will you work for us?"
Dean propped his feet on the table, sitting in a new chair, but still kept up the smart ass appearance that he had maintained since regaining consciousness.
"What's in it for us?" he asked.
"Excuse me? I was aware that it was your job and that you two do this out of the kindness of your heart, whoever it may be." Fury said, glancing at Natasha and Clint, who promptly left the room and closed the door behind them.
"We have gotten nothing from you government stuck ups then a couple of fake murder charges and a whole shit load of trouble. Why the hell should we help you, if you do nothing but get in the way and create a whole lot of problems for us?" Dean ranted, waving his hands around and slamming his fist on the table.
It only took a few words. "I'll wipe your records."
Dean stopped and stared at him.
"I'll wipe your records. Any criminal charges laid against you, will be deleted and lost. So when you finish your mission to save the world, you can start a life that doesn't involve a federal prison for the next fifty years. A fresh start, if you want." Fury said.
"And all it would cost you was a couple days, maybe a week of your time. So, is it a deal?"
for all you people who would probably be asking in reviews, this takes place after Like A Virgin, and before The Man who Knew Too Much in season six for supernatural. and this is also before The Winter Soldier for Avengers. Just saying.