AN: Quick note on the timeline. This is set during season 2 episode 9 of Supernatural, and before the first Iron Man movie for the MCU.
This might be our kind of thing after all. Natasha eyed the barricade blocking off the bridge that led into River Grove. It was an isolated town, a couple different bridges the only way in or out if one was traveling by car. Barricading those bridges didn't take a lot of effort. A few well-placed cars, a handful of armed people, and that was all it took.
"They're civilians," Clint said, voice pitched low so as not to carry. He had taken shelter behind a tree a couple feet away from her.
Natasha nodded, the movement barely perceptible, but she kept her eyes on the people guarding the barricade. Not a uniform among them, though a couple had clearly handled guns before. Probably hunting. Some others had clearly never touched a gun before in their lives, but they held on to them now with an eager tenacity.
"They're positioned to keep people in the town," Natasha replied.
"Guess we know part of the reason the town went dark," Clint said.
Right. Cutting off communications so no one could call for help was a good first step, if you were planning something big. Of course, cutting off communications was exactly what had gotten their attention in the first place. Strategic Homeland Intervention Enforcement and Logistics Division kept their eyes out for that sort of thing.
PR has got to come up with something better for our name.
"I recommend we get in and find out why this is happening before we start putting people down," Clint said.
"Agreed," Natasha said. She wasn't exactly eager to start killing civilians without some solid intel on what was happening. A pity they couldn't call for back up. She and Clint weren't exactly equipped with the right supplies to put down a town full of people via nonlethal methods. They could probably incapacitate this particular group, but it was too early to tip their hands.
The woods along the road provided plenty of cover for them to sneak past. Once Clint and Natasha reached the town, cover was a little harder to come by, but there weren't people around for them to dodge, which was both a lucky break and cause for concern. River Grove wasn't very big, but they should have seen someone.
Hopefully it just means the innocent civilians are taking cover.
Movement caught Natasha's eye as she inched around a building. A black Impala was coming up the road, the first moving vehicle that they had seen in the town. Natasha went still, and she knew without looking that Clint had as well.
From across the street, a large black man armed with a rifle stepped out, calling for the vehicle to stop. He's got military training. The way the man moved, held his rifle, even the way he barked orders at the car spoke of it.
Natasha felt a tap from Clint, but she didn't take her eyes off the scene. She understood the unspoken message. He was going to get to a better angle in case this confrontation went south.
The car rolled to a stop, and from her position all Natasha could tell about the driver was that he was male and white.
"Are you one of them?" the ex-soldier shouted at the driver. "Are you one of them?"
The driver's door swung open, slowly. The driver got out, keeping his movements deliberate. Natasha could see him better now; well enough to realize that he was fairly young, early to mid-twenties, and that his demeanor was too calm to have never had a gun pointed at him before. Then, in one swift movement the driver had his own handgun pointed at the ex-soldier.
"I'm not one of them," the driver said. "What about you? Are you one of them?"
"I'm not," the other man said. "How do I know you're not lying?"
"How do I know that you're not lying?" the driver demanded in return.
Natasha resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Men. This wasn't going anywhere good. Deciding that Clint had had enough time to get in position, Natasha straightened and walked towards the two, pulling her badge out along the way. Both men whirled about and pointed their guns at her, but Natasha already had her hands in the air showing off her badge and an easy smile on her face.
"Relax, boys. It looks to me like you could both stand to settle down a little."
"Who are you?" the driver demanded.
"Agent Romanoff, with the Strategic Homeland Intervention Enforcement and Logistics Division," Natasha said.
"Never heard of them," the driver said.
"I have," the ex-soldier said, his rifle lowering just a hair. "A buddy of mine…his unit got in a bad situation overseas. There wasn't supposed to be any way to get them out, but your people did."
Natasha inclined her head just a fraction, but she kept her attention on the driver. If either of the men fired on her, it was going to be him. "It's what we do."
"If you're some kind of military group, what are you doing here?" the driver asked.
"We handle all kinds of situations," Natasha replied. "When an entire town goes dark, we notice."
The ex-soldier swore. "You think this is some kind of terrorist attack or something?"
"Don't know yet," Natasha said. "But it sounded like the two of you might know something."
The ex-soldier lowered his rifle completely. "All I know is that my neighbors – people I've lived next to and been friends with for years – have all suddenly gone insane and tried to kill me. Communications are down, too. Can't get anything to work. Not a phone, not even my computer."
Not good. Understatement, really. But Natasha didn't have time to indulge in the long list of adjectives that would more accurately describe the situation.
"And where do you fit in?" Natasha asked the driver.
"US Marshal," he replied. "My partner and I were in town to ask one of the locals some questions when all the craziness started."
"Well, marshal, I showed you mine, so why don't you show me yours?" Natasha said, glancing up at her badge and then back at him.
He muttered something under his breath, but he took one hand off his gun and pulled out a badge, flashing it briefly. It was all Natasha needed to see to confirm her suspicions. Liar. He was a good liar, and the ID was a good fake, but not good enough to get past her. Whatever he was doing here, he was definitely someone she needed to keep an eye on.
Natasha slowly lowered her arms, slipping her badge into a back pocket. "If things are as dangerous as you two say, perhaps we should take this conversation elsewhere?"
The fake marshal grumbled and holstered his gun. "My partner is holed up in the medical clinic with some others. That's where I was headed."
Natasha decided to take that as an invitation. So did the ex-soldier apparently, as he approached the car as well. Natasha went for the back seat, letting the two men sit up front. She trusted that Clint wouldn't have a problem following the car through town.
"So, you fellows got names, or should I just call you both 'hey, you'?" she asked.
"Mark Varko," the ex-soldier answered.
The driver looked at her in the rear view mirror for a moment before he answered. "Billy Gibbons."
"Well, Varko, Gibbons," Natasha said. "Any idea what's causing this insanity to spread?"
"Not yet," Gibbons replied.
More bad news. If they knew how it was spreading, they might be able to figure out a way to stop it, or cure those affected by it. Without knowing how it was happening, stopping it would be that much harder.
It didn't take them long to make it to the clinic. As far as secure locations went, the clinic was hardly ideal. The front of the building was all glass windows and glass doors. Anyone who was decently determined would be able to get through, locked door or not.
As Gibbons was pulling out the key to the front door, Clint rounded the corner of the building. Instantly both men had guns pointed at him, and Natasha put herself in their way. "Easy! This is my partner, Agent Barton."
"You didn't mention a partner earlier," Gibbons snapped.
"You two looked like you might start shooting at me earlier," Natasha replied.
Varko huffed but lowered his rifle. "Today is not a good day to startle people."
"If I really wanted to startle you, I'd have dropped off the roof here, instead of the side of the building," Clint said cheerfully.
Gibbons lowered his gun and scooped the keys to the building back up off the ground. "What's with the bow?" Gibbons asked. "Government can't afford to give you real weapons?"
Clint just grinned, and Natasha had to suppress a smile of her own. It was always amusing when someone underestimated Clint because of his choice of weapon. "Nah, I've got a gun. Just like bows."
Gibbons opened the door, and they followed him in. He flipped the lock back in place before leading them back into the clinic. The inner doors were a little more substantial, but far from security doors.
They reached a back room where three other people – two women and a man – waited. Natasha gave them a quick once over; one woman wore a name tag identifying her as Dr. Lee, and the other woman was dressed in colorful scrubs that identified her as a nurse. Which meant the man must be Gibbons's partner.
Big, probably strong, definitely armed. Cast on his right wrist; if I have to take him down, go from the right.
"Mark!" Dr. Lee said. "Thank goodness you're okay." She glanced over Natasha and Clint, clearly nervous. "Is this the help you went for, marshal?"
"Not exactly," Gibbons replied. "I wasn't able to get out of town. The road is barricaded." He jerked a thumb in their direction. "Found these two on the way back. They're with … what was that name again?"
"The Strategic Homeland Intervention Enforcement and Logistics Division," Natasha replied.
"That's a mouthful," Gibbons's partner said, his eyes narrowed as he studied them.
"PR is working on it," Clint said dryly.
"I'm Agent Romanoff, and my partner is Agent Barton," Natasha said, taking the lead. "We were sent to investigate why River Grove suddenly cut off all contact. And you all are?"
"Frank Beard," Beard said. He was as good a liar as Gibbons. "This is Dr. Lee and Pam."
"Where's the Tanner lady?" Gibbons asked.
Dr. Lee and Pam both looked off to the side at a closed door. "She was infected," Dr. Lee said. Pam shivered at her words.
Gibbons swore, running a hand through his hair. "Do we know how it's spreading?"
"Through blood," Dr. Lee said. "I ran some tests. As far as I can tell, it's some kind of virus."
"If it's a virus, then can it be cured?" Natasha asked.
Beard winced at the question, his eyes darting away for a moment. The expression was subtle, but definitely there. He knows something. Something Dr. Lee hasn't mentioned.
Dr. Lee was shaking her head. "I don't know. If a cure can be created, it's not something I can do here."
Varko took a step towards the door. "Then we're going to have to put her down."
"Whoa now," Clint said, taking a step to the side. "Let's pause a second. If she's contained, we don't need to kill her. Just because Dr. Lee can't put a cure together right this second doesn't mean someone won't be able to cure it later."
"You don't get it!" Varko snapped. Pointing at the door, he said, "The infected people just get stronger in time! Believe me, I fought some of them! It won't be long before she's able to break through the door, and then she'll infect the rest of us! We don't have a choice."
"But – but this is Beverly!" Pam said, her eyes darting between them as she hugged herself. "I mean, we can't seriously be considering killing her? It's Beverly!"
"No, it's not," Gibbons said. His hand inched back towards his gun. "It wasn't Beverly anymore the moment it was infected. Varko is right; we have to make sure the rest of us stay safe. We have to put it down."
Natasha shifted, making sure she was ready to move fast if needed. "Or, we could reinforce the door to make sure she can't break through even when she gets stronger. Our organization has a lot of resources. Given time, we might be able to cure Beverly and the other infected people. We definitely can't cure them if they're dead."
"All due respect, agent," Gibbons said in a tone that was clearly intended to be offensive, "given time, we might all end up dead! That's not a risk I'm willing to take. Not for one person."
"All due respect, marshal," Natasha said, letting sarcasm drip from the title, "my organization is in the business of saving people. What exactly are you in the business of?"
Beard drew in a sharp breath, and Gibbons went still. Natasha had meant the jab to let them know she was aware they weren't really US marshals in hopes that they'd want their cover kept, and so maybe would follow her lead for now. But obviously something about her words had hit both of them far harder than she had expected.
Varko shook his head. "Sorry, but keeping it alive is too risky."
He'd barely managed to take a step before one of Clint's arrows whizzed past him, landing next to the door handle. Varko jerked back with a curse as the arrow hissed and fizzed, foam spewing out of it, building on itself until it covered the door handle and half of the doorframe before it hardened.
"What the hell was that?" Gibbons demanded, his gun now drawn but not pointed at anyone.
"Me, reinforcing the door," Clint replied. "She won't get through that." Neither would anyone else, which hung in the air unspoken.
"Not what I was asking," Gibbons said. "The hell kind of weapons do you have?"
Clint grinned at that. "Told you I liked bows better."
"You can compare toys later," Natasha said. "Right now we need to strategize. Varko, you're on lookout duty. Dr. Lee, Pam, I want the two of you taking inventory of everything in the clinic; we need to know what supplies we have on hand. Marshals, we'll need the two of you to help us come up with a plan."
"Hold on a second," Varko said stepping forward. "Just what gives you two the right to come in and start making decisions for everyone? You're putting all our lives at risk!"
We don't have time for this.
"If you want to waste your time trying to get through the seal Barton put on that door so you can murder Beverly Tanner, be my guest," Natasha snapped. "If you'd rather do something useful, you can keep watch so that other infected people don't break in and put us in actual danger!"
Varko glared at her, but Natasha held her ground. Muttering under his breath, Varko wheeled around and marched out of the room back towards the front of the clinic.
"I guess we'll go do that inventory," Dr. Lee said, and she and Pam left the room too.
Finally.
Natasha immediately turned her attention to Beard. "What do you know about the virus that you aren't telling us?"
Beard jerked, obviously startled by her question. Gibbons looked surprised as well, so whatever it was that Beard knew, it wasn't something that he'd had time to share.
"I don't know what you're talking about," Beard said. "Dr. Lee is the one that studied the virus, not me."
"And yet you still know something," Natasha said.
"Look," Gibbons said, raising a hand. "If my partner says he doesn't know anything – "
"Then he's lying," Natasha said. "Withholding vital information in a situation like this gets people killed."
Beard sighed and looked down for a moment before meeting her gaze again. "Agent, you're not going to believe me."
"We're trained for weird," Clint said, leaning back against the wall. "Try us."
Beard and Gibbons exchanged another look, and Gibbons snorted before crossing his arms over his chest. "Yeah, bet you're not trained for our kind of weird."
Natasha didn't say anything, she just watched Beard and waited. Beard took a deep breath and said, "Okay, fine. The virus is of demonic origin, that I know for sure. I suspect it might be caused by a demon that's also responsible for the Roanoke Colony disappearing, because we found the word 'croatoan' carved into a light pole. I have no idea whether or not it's possible to cure someone that's infected."
He actually believes that.
Of course, just because Beard believed what he was saying didn't mean he was right. The very idea was a little out there, even for someone in Natasha's line of work.
"Seriously?" Clint asked. "You think there's an actual demon involved in this mess?"
Beard shrugged. "Told you that you wouldn't believe us."
"Let's pretend we do," Natasha said. "What would be the demon's end game? Why is it doing this?"
"That we don't know," Gibbons said. "Demons are evil bastards; maybe it just wants to cause chaos and suffering."
Natasha frowned, because that couldn't be right. "No. There's a point to this. It's too controlled."
"You call letting loose a virus that turns people into homicidal maniacs controlled?" Beard asked.
"In this case, yes," Natasha said, turning over what she knew in her mind. "The perpetrator – whoever they are – chose an awfully isolated town if what they wanted was chaos. Then they went through the trouble of cutting all lines of communication. Whatever their goal is, they want it done quietly."
"And the infected aren't exactly random in their attacks," Clint observed. "From what you've said, they're specifically targeting people that aren't infected in order to infect them, though how they can tell the difference is anyone's guess. Barricading the roads to prevent people from leaving takes coordination and planning. The virus might make them violent, but it doesn't make people stupid."
Beard winced. "And viruses don't give people shared goals," he said, clearly following their logic.
Gibbons looked over at him sharply. "Wait. Are you telling me that the demon that caused this is still around?"
"Probably," Beard said. "The infected people have to be getting their orders from someone. I mean, I could see the virus giving them the drive to infect anyone who wasn't already infected, but they've got a point. How could a virus make them decide to barricade the town and keep everyone inside?"
"Well great," Gibbons said. "That's just great."
"It gives us a direction," Beard said. "If we kill the demon, maybe that solves the virus issue."
Natasha didn't see how that would work, but it was hardly the time to quibble over it. "So how do we find and kill a demon?" she asked.
Gibbons glanced over at her. "Didn't think you two believed us."
Natasha shrugged. "Not sure that I do. But discussing a demon is the first time the two of you haven't been actively trying to lie to us, so I'm willing to give it a shot."
Clint straightened from where he was leaning against the wall. "Speaking of lying, what are you two exactly? Because you sure aren't marshals."
They exchanged a look before Beard replied. "We're hunters. We hunt down and kill monsters."
Still not lying.
It bothered Natasha that the things they said that should have been obvious lies simply weren't.
"As for finding the demon," Gibbons said, "that's not always easy. They possess humans."
"Can they possess anyone?" Natasha asked sharply. Because she might not exactly believe them, but if they were right, that was really bad news.
"Depends on how powerful the demon is," Beard replied. "The stronger they are, the easier it is for them to possess someone. But in general they tend to go after people that are weak willed, or people that have chinks in their emotional armor. People that are scared or hurting."
Clint snorted. "Well they've got their pick of scared and hurting right now."
"Yeah, that's a problem," Gibbons said. "But there are ways to test and see if someone is possessed. The easiest is to say 'Christo' and see if they flinch. Holy water works too. They can't cross salt lines, and devil's traps will stop them. An exorcism will get rid of them."
"And once the demon is gone, what happens to the person they had possessed?" Natasha asked.
Beard looked down as Gibbons replied. "That depends on what happens to them while they're possessed. Demons can keep a body going through a lot of damage. Once the demon is gone, well."
"I get the idea," Natasha said.
Clint glanced her way, and Natasha could read the question in his eyes. Are you really believing this?
Natasha … wasn't sure. Demon would never have been her go to answer for strange events. People could be monsters all on their own. Just because she didn't understand how people managed to do things sometimes didn't mean there was anything unnatural involved.
But the way Beard and Gibbons talked about this, they believed it was true. They weren't just making stuff up. In fact, the way they phrased their answers made it sound like they'd dealt with demons before now.
If it was true, if there really were demons and other monsters out there, Natasha wasn't sure what that meant for the Strategic Homeland Intervention Enforcement and Logistics Division. It would mean there were all kinds of threats out in the world that they weren't in any way prepared to deal with.
And that will be a problem for Fury and the World Security Council.
For the moment, they had a situation to contain, and civilians to protect. And – possibly – a demon to kill.
AN: Obviously, there will be a chapter two. Whether there will be more than that is a little up in the air at the moment.