Dear Reader, This story is a continuation of Dean Mossberg, US Army, and – if you want to know how the guys ended up in a government contract - it should be read first. The short fic was actually a continuation of a one-shot I did, and readers requested more. So I wrote a short story, but readers wanted more, so I tried to end it, but readers asked for more, even responding to other stories I wrote with requests for more Mossberg. It has actually made me extremely anxious about even trying this, like panic level almost. So please be kind if this isn't how you thought the story would go. Also, I messed with the Season 8 timeline a little. Respectfully, Teresa
P.S. Legalities – still have no ownership and make no money from Supernatural.
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Seven months after Guantanamo - July 2013
Helicopters are marginally better than airplanes, but flying freaks out Captain Dean Mossberg to the amusement of the rest of the unit. But in a way, it's good that he's sitting there hunched over, red faced, making himself breathe slowly to prevent a full-blown panic attack.
The captain is just a little too good at this stuff otherwise…too good at finding things, and hunting things, and killing things. Too relaxed afterwards. Accepts this crazy shit that springs from nightmares a little too willingly. Yeah, if they didn't see him fighting so hard to overcome his fear of flying, they might think he isn't completely human – like his buddy and occasional teammate Castiel Winchester isn't.
Yeah, they don't talk about that either.
Their unit, nicknamed the Mossberg Armory or just The Armory for short, has its requisite numbers and letter designations. Somehow it manages to be a federal black ops joint military rapid-response law enforcement team under the Department of Homeland Security out of Offutt Air Force Base, Nebraska.
The Armory's commanded by Colonel John Smith with his Executive Officer Joe Wesson – but it's the captain they take their nickname from. The Armory's members are active military recruited from all four branches, and there's a civilian research component.
Every single one of the members, military and civilian, has committed to becoming someone new and to keeping everything they do secret. They don't talk about their missions except to each other. No one would believe them anyway. The captain's brother snorted once and said of course a team named after his brother would never want to talk about things.
The entire team of twenty, counting the civilians, admin staff, helicopter crew, medic, and the away team, never mentions how the type of missions they undertake makes this team unique. They also don't talk about the members who died already over the six months they've been together. Instead they follow their boss's lead and give them a special fiery funeral before seeing who can be last man standing when they set out to get drunk.
It's usually Dean; Captain Mossberg can really put away the booze. Still shoots straight when he ought to be blind drunk.
But chasing down werewolves, rooting out witches and people possessed by a Mayan god, banishing a malevolent Civil War ghost, and beheading a nest of pirate vampires does make this group one of a kind. Hell, they even fought Nazi-necromancers and rescued a guy and his Golem. Their experiences help bring them closer together as a team and as people.
Now though, The Armory is going after a Hellhound because their prophet – a civilian kid named Kevin Glock – told the boss's big brother, head researcher Sam Mossberg, that the Demon tablet contains information about closing the gates of hell forever.
Captain Mossberg and his brother taught a class about demons and how to trap them and kill them, with enough detail to ensure the team knows what they're facing. They seemed sad when they talked about how back in the day, they would try exorcism when they could. They tried to save the lives of the meat suits, but that it rarely worked because demons were vindictive and vicious. Purposely ruined the bodies they possessed. Made a point of how vicious Hellhounds are too.
"Sir, you seem like you have personal knowledge," Staff Sergeant Mike Remington tries to wheedle information, but a shutter falls over the captain's face, hiding any glimpse of his thoughts. His brother, a big, fit guy for an egghead, starts to clench and unclench his fists. No one pushed.
So while it's kind of hard to accept that Hell's minions are here on earth, they believe. The Mossbergs have earned their loyalty, and they trust their captain with their lives. They know he's got their backs – and they have his too. That prophet kid had taught them how to turn eyeglasses into Hell vision goggles too, and everyone on the team is as prepared as a person could be when faced with the impossible.
The captain doesn't seem much like the big hero who will throw himself in front of a threat for any of them right now, though, hunched into himself looking like a scared kid, dark gray fatigues tucked into black boots and head hidden in his arms. Sam sits next to him and reaches over to buckle his brother in. "You want some headphones? I've put Metallica on the MP3 player for you." He shouts through the helicopter's comm system as the rotor blades fill the air with noise, even with stealth technology.
"Go away, Sammy. I don't even want you with us; it's too dangerous. Plus, what if we crash? Who's gonna run things then?" All this comes as a muffled whine from where Dean's already assumed the crash position as the Blackhawk lifts on its way to Idaho where Sam's research says a Hellhound has come to collect its bounty at the Cassity Farms. Once a hound is killed and the blood spread over the person undertaking the trial, there's an incantation that must be read aloud. Sam already told Dean all this.
Snorting, Sam places his big hand on the back of his brother's neck, kneading to relieve some of the tension and reinforce the idea that he is there for him. While Sam still feels the need to make it up to Dean for not looking for him when he went to Purgatory and rejecting him when he came back, their relationship has gotten much better. Not perfect though. Sam and Dean have recently had words about Dean befriending a vampire, but the fight was about more than the fact that Dean gave Benny a pass. It was about Sam's stubborn brother being a closed-mouth jerk, at least according to the taller brother.
Once upon a time the tiff might have resulted in them going separate ways for a time - their government contract prevents that now. Well, the contract plus the fact that last time Sam let Dean storm off, his brother joined the Army which triggered all of this. Better to stay close and keep an eye on him. Besides which, Sam doesn't want his brother to face a Hellhound without him. Doesn't plan on letting Dean do it at all, truth be told, but Dean's not the only brother who can hold his thoughts close to his chest.
Sam's still more than a little bit proud that their new identities make him the older brother, and he takes it seriously. He had a great example that he intends to surpass. The two brothers wrangled over the switch, but Sam insists it is right when all the Hell time gets added in. Sam figures he is actually older now, knows he acts it, and with Dean being a big baby afraid of flying, Sam turns on the fraternal concern for real. Yeah, even Sam appreciates the glimpses that prove Dean is still human.
"C'mon, Dean. It'll be over soon." He tries cajoling him. His brother raises his middle finger in response.
"Your guys are seeing you act like this. That can't be good for morale." Sam switches to shaming Dean, but one look around at the huge grins from the men - Remington, Ethan Colt, Steve Kimber, Shane Savage, and Mark Marlin proves he's wrong. Sam glowers at them. They grin even harder.
Even the helicopter pilot Susan Weatherby, crew chief Kat Springfield, and medic Ernesto Jimenez are smiling. This isn't their first flight with Dean, and they know he'll come up fighting at the end. "Don't baby him," Sam admonishes them, earning more grins and a peek at bright green eyes as Dean looks up to see that he's become the center of attention.
The sway of the helicopter as it turns soon has Dean's face turning green and moaning before he hides his head again. "Tell me again why we couldn't drive there."
"It's a thousand miles, Captain." The pilot says over the comm. "That makes for a long drive but about a less than five hour flight. Might as well get some use out of the bird that makes us rapid response."
"It's not natural." Dean groans, as the group peals with laughter and shouts of "It's super natural." Even Sam is laughing now, and Dean glares at him. "I hope it's a clown farm." Dean mutters.
"Yeah, lot of that clown farming going around." Sam snarks back, glad for even a ridiculous argument if it'll help keep Dean's mind off flying.
Having an officially sanctioned government unit to handle cases changed how the brothers did things. They no longer have to be sneaky, except for avoiding the news media. Additionally, the PATRIOT Act gives them the right to conduct warrantless searches, issue gag orders, or indefinitely detain suspects because Congress has declared – in a secret Bill - that attacks from heaven or hell qualify as terrorism. Considering how much damage was done in the war between Lucifer's forces and Michael's before the Apocalypse was averted, it makes sense.
Too much happened that couldn't stay hidden or be completely swept under the rug. Whole towns had been lost to the Horsemen, Famine, Pestilence, and War. Lucifer had leveled much of Detroit. Death had nearly annihilated Chicago before Dean talked him into stopping. Then there was Castiel's stint as God Part Two, and Dick Roman's rise as the head Leviathan – making sure the sheeple stayed fat and unaware.
The government scrambled at first, trying to find sane explanations for the chaos. But even when things calmed down again, when the people went back to worrying about more mundane things, government agencies put out feelers into a world of what they now knew existed. They infiltrated a strange community called "Hunters," and they heard the name Winchester whispered in fear, loathing, and awe.
Two guys who kept saving the world, or endangering it, or both. Died countless times – even government records proved that. Were resurrected by God, maybe? Or Lucifer himself? Maybe they're not even human any more.
Government agents dug deep, met with members of law enforcement agencies who had been in contact with the brothers, even found a few first-hand accounts that in the past they would have filed under the loose talk of nut jobs. Real loonies when you consider Martin is actually locked up in a psych ward. Then Dean Winchester walked right into their hands via an Army recruiting station in Big Springs, Texas, claiming his last name was Mossberg. The rest is history, especially the part about a short stint at Guantanamo Bay convincing the brothers to work for the government.
John Smith, posing as a Chief Warrant Officer at the time, had made first contact with the brothers. Whether it was reward or punishment, the man became the commander of this special group. But the Mossbergs are its heart. Their expertise fuels the training and helps keep people alive. Their dedication to each other serves as the example of self-sacrifice, and tales of their childhood have filtered through the rank and file, making any full-grown man or woman ashamed to let fear rule them.
The civilian hacker in the research unit, Charlie Beretta, may have bookmarked an old set of books by some guy named Carver Edlund for them all to read, too. She's almost like a sister to the Mossbergs, but she isn't near as secretive. Since they read the stories, all of them have gone out and gotten a tattoo like the brothers have.
But they don't talk about that either. The helicopter's flight ought to be weighed down by secrets, but it isn't. Instead the pure fondness they group has, the sense of family these brothers create around them, and the bubble of fun they have when seeing the boss's weak spot speed them along.
This group might be facing Hellhounds tonight, but today they are locked and loaded. The Mossberg Armory has a job to do, and they are going to save the world whether the world wants to be saved or not.
