Finished! I had a ton of fun writing this, and I'll probably write another Clint Winchester story soon. Maybe. I need to update my HP/FMA fanfic first. Anywho, fun fact time. Jensen Ackles actually was offered the part of Clint Barton/Hawkeye for the MCU, but he had to turn it down because of Supernatural. Wow. That was actually what got me started writing the whole 'Clint is a Winchester' thing, actually, so there you go. The more you know. Enjoy!

Clint, Sam, and Dean sat around Missouri's kitchen table in her house, looking at the large assortment of different herbs and roots splayed across the surface.

"So, what is all this stuff, anyway?" he asked Missouri.

Missouri didn't look up from where she was arranging things on the table.

"Angelica Root, Van Van oil, crossroad dirt, a few other odds and ends." She replied easily. Clint reached over the table to touch the Angelica Root, and the psychic smacked his hand away. "Don't you touch that, boy," she warned him, and he retreated, rubbing the back of his hand and glaring at his younger brothers, who were snickering to themselves.

"What are we supposed to do with these?" asked Dean, watching as Missouri arranged the ingredients into small bags.

"We're going to put them inside the walls in the north, south, east, west corners on each floor of the house." She replied.

"Oh, yeah," Clint said. "Women love it when you punch holes in their dry wall and fill them up with hoodoo bags."

Missouri cast him a sly look.

"She'll live," was all that she said.

Sam asked the one question that all three of the brothers had been wondering but had not yet voiced.

"And this'll destroy the spirits?"

Missouri glanced at him briefly, ducking her head in a small nod.

"It should." She said. "It should purify the house completely. We'll each take a floor – Clint, boy, you go with Dean. But we work fast. Once the spirits realize what we're up to, things are gonna get bad."

"Bad, like, throwing things?" Clint asked her. "Or bad like slowly peeling the skin from our bones while they laugh?"

Sam and Dean slowly turned their heads to him, giving him a strange look, and he scowled.

"What?" he said defensively. "I just wanna be prepared."

Missouri hummed a little bit before she gave an answer to the oldest Winchester's question.

"Most likely the latter," she stated. "So like I told ya, work fast."

Jenny shifted Ritchie to her other arm as she walked with Missouri outside of the house.

"Look," she said, "I'm not sure I'm comfortable leaving you guys here alone."

Missouri smiled at her in a comforting way, which was fairly effective on the frazzled young woman.

"Just take your kids to the movies or somethin', and it'll be over by the time you get back." She reassured the younger woman.

Jenny, still slightly unsure, left with Ritchie and Sari, taking one last glance at the house. Missouri sighed and walked back inside the home.

Inside of the kitchen, Dean began punching the wall with a small axe, and Clint stood behind him, ready to quickly shove the bag of herbs into the hole that was left behind. Neither of them noticed one of the kitchen drawers slowly opening itself from behind them.

"Did you hear something?" Dean said suddenly as his older brother placed the bag in the wall.

Clint straightened up and slowly turned his head, trying to catch a sound. His eyes focused on the drawer behind Dean, and he forcibly pulled his brother down, yelling, "Watch out!"

A knife impaled itself in the cabinet, just where Dean's head had been only moment before. He pulled a table in front of himself and Clint, just as more knives started sailing through the air.

"Holy crap," Clint muttered.

There was a loud thump from somewhere above them, and Clint and Dean shared a worried look before sprinting up the stairs and running into two different bedrooms, trying to find their youngest brother.

"I'll take this one," Clint called to Dean. "You go check over there!"

Dean nodded and took off, leaving Clint alone in the hallway. He opened the first door, finding the room void of life, and he moved onto the next one.

Sam, he thought frantically to himself, where are you?

"Sam!" Clint heard Dean shout from the other end of the hallway, and he took off running in that direction.

In the room, he could see Dean struggling to get a lamp cord untangled from around Sam's neck, and Sam himself was lying on the floor, weak from lack of air. Clint fell onto his knees beside his brothers and lent his help to them, but it was no use, the cord wouldn't budge.

Dean looked around the room, and, upon finding what it was he was looking for, thrust the bag of herbs into the hole in the wall that Sam had created, causing the room to be bathed in a flash of blinding while light. Once it was gone, Clint hurriedly pulled the cord from around Sam's neck, and Dean pulled his little brother into a fierce hug, which Clint joined in after a brief moment.

"Stupid Sasquatch," he muttered. "Don't scare us like that."

Sam let out a weak laugh, and leaned into the embrace.

The four of them stood in the kitchen, completely trashed from a combination of ripping open walls and the poltergeist trying to kill everyone.

"You sure this is over?" Sam asked as he glanced around the room.

Missouri looked at him curiously.

"I'm sure," she said. "Why? Why do you ask?"

Sam looked back at her.

"Never mind," he sighed. "It's nothin', I guess."

Clint opened his mouth to say something, but was interrupted by the sound of Jenny opening the door and entering the house.

"Hello?" she called out. "We're home." She came into the kitchen and stopped short, looking at the wreckage. "What happened?"

"Hi," Sam said sheepishly. "Sorry. Um, we'll pay for all of this."

Dean looked at him with confusion, and Clint knew that he was wondering just how, exactly, they would pay for something like this when they lived off of pool hustling, gambling, and credit card fraud (technically, he had the power to arrest them for that, but they were family, so he'd let it slide).

Missouri smiled at Jenny, a glint in her eye.

"Don't you worry," she said to her. "Dean's gonna clean up this mess."

Dean simply stood there, not moving, an astonished look on his face.

"Well, what are you waiting for, boy?" Missouri said to him scathingly. "Get the mop." Dean shot her a dark look and began to move away. "And don't you cuss at me!" she called after him, and he walked off, muttering under his breath all the while.

Clint chuckled.

"I think you're the only person who's ever talked to him like that and got away with it," he told the psychic. "He must have a whole lotta respect for you."

She grinned up at him.

"Or a lot a fear," she responded, and Sam snorted with laughter.

They left the house about an hour later, after Dean had straightened things up and returned them to their proper place. Sam, however, didn't feel like they should leave just yet, and the three of them sat in the Impala – Clint's rental was parked down the street, and this made for a better stakeout – outside of the house.

"All right," Dean said after a while of sitting in the car, with nothing happening. "So, tell me again what are we still doin' here?"

Sam continued to look out the window.

"I don't know," he said in reply. "I just… I still have a bad feeling."

"What, you sensing something, Obi-Wan?" Clint teased. "C'mon, Missouri did her thing, the house is clean, and everything's fine."

"Yeah, it should be over." Dean agreed.

Sam's brows were knitted together the way that they did whenever he was confused or worried.

"Yeah," he said, "well, probably. But I just wanna make sure, that's all."

Dean huffed a little bit.

"Yeah, well, problem is, I could be sleeping in a bed right now." He slid down into his seat, his eyes closed.

Sam still had his eyes trained on the house, not moving.

"C'mon, Sam, nothing's gonna happen," Clint said with a yawn.

Just as the words left his lips, Sam gave a small gasp, and called out, "Dean, Clint, Look!" He pointed at the window, where they could see Jenny screaming. The three of them rushed out of the car and ran towards the house.

"You guys go grab the kids, I'll get Jenny!" Dean called as the three of them ran into the house.

Dean ran up the stairs towards Jenny's bedroom, and Clint took the one that had previously belonged to him and Dean – Ritchie's bedroom. Sam ran into the one that was occupied by Sari.

"C'mere, buddy," Clint said softly as he scooped the toddler out of his crib. "It's okay, I'm gonna get you out of here."

He carried the boy down the stairs and out of the house, Dean following not long after.

"Where's Sam?" Dean asked as he and Jenny emerged from the house, Jenny taking her son from Clint and gripping him tightly to her chest.

"I thought he was right behind you," Clint said, his eyes widening as he looked back towards the house.

He could hear a crash from inside, and Sari came running out of the house a moment later, crying. She rushed over to the boys and Jenny, and hugged her mother. Dean knelt down next to the girl so that he was at eye-level with her.

"Sari," he said, "where's Sam?"

Sari was still crying as she spoke.

"He's inside." She said. "Something's got him."

In a panic, Dean's head whipped around to look at the front door, but it had already slammed shut on it's own accord.

Dean started to rush forward, but Clint grabbed him by the shoulders.

"Let me go!" Dean roared. "Sam! Sammy!"

"Hey!" Clint said, smacking his younger brother's arm to get his attention. "Listen to me, you can't just charge in there, you idiot. If we want to get Sam out safely, we have to be prepared." He released him. "C'mon, let's get stuff from the car."

Dean pointed at Jenny and her children.

"You stay out here, where it's safe." He said to them, and Jenny nodded, her face pale as she held her son and daughter close.

Dean popped open the trunk of the Impala and removed a rifle and an axe, and Clint had a shotgun slung over his shoulder. The two of them made their way to the front door and Dean began hacking at it with his axe. Eventually, after a minute or two, he was able to make a whole big enough for him and Clint to step through. They walked into the house, looking for Sam."

"Sam?" Dean called out, his voice raw with emotion.

"Dean, he's over there!" Clint said to him, taking hold of his arm and pulling him in the direction of the kitchen.

"Sam!" Dean yelled as he saw his brother pinned to the wall, and a fiery figure standing in front of him. He raised his gun towards it, but Sam stopped him from shooting.

"No, don't! Don't!" he yelled to his older brother.

"What?" Dean and Clint asked at the same time, and Dean added, "Why?" in a gruff voice.

"Because," Sam said, "I know who it is. I can see her now."

"Her?" Clint questioned.

Suddenly, the fire vanished, and instead of the flaming figure, Mary Winchester stood in front of her three boys, looking exactly like she did the night that she died. Dean's expression softened, and he lowered his gun slowly. Clint felt his mouth hanging open slightly in shock.

"Mom?" Dean said softly, and Mary smiled at him and stepped closer.

"Dean," she said, and the sound of her voice was one of the most wonderful things Clint had ever heard in his life. "Clint."

Tears formed in Dean's eyes. Mary walked away from the older boys and went towards Sam. Clint watched her, transfixed, never taking his eyes off of her.

"Sam." She said as she looked towards her youngest. Sam smiled at her weakly, crying. Mary's smile faded. "I'm sorry."

"For what?" Sam asked, his voice little more than a hoarse whisper.

She looked at him sadly, but said no more. She walked away from the three of them and looked up towards the ceiling.

"You get out of my house," she said, her voice firm in the way Clint remembered from when she used to scold him and Dean. "And let go of my son."

Once more, Mary Winchester burst into flames. When she was entirely engulfed, the fire reached towards the ceiling, and disappeared. The force that was holding Sam to the wall released him, and he walked over to his brothers, who looked around at one another, stunned.

"Now," said Sam, "it's over."

The next morning, Clint stood by the Impala with Dean and Jenny while Sam sat on the front steps of the house.

"Thanks for these," Dean said to Jenny as he looked through old family photos from a small trunk that Jenny had found in the basement of the home. "Hey, look Clint, it's your adoption papers."

Clint peered over at them, a small smile creeping onto his face.

"Well, I'll be," he said, taking them and rubbing a calloused thumb over the papers. "I thought these got burnt up with all my other crap. Huh." He looked at his brother. "I think I'll take these home with me, show 'em to Laura."

Dean nodded at him.

"Thanks again, Jenny," Clint said to the woman, who smiled at him.

"Don't thank me," she said. "They're yours."

Dean put the trunk in the back of the Impala, and Clint wandered over to where his youngest brother sat, Missouri having joined him in a discussion.

"Not even my mom?" Sam was saying.

Missouri shook her head.

"No."

"What happened?" Sam asked her.

"Yeah," Clint butted in. "I've been wondering that myself."

Missouri looked up at him.

"Your mom's spirit and the poltergeist's energy, they cancelled each out." She said. "Your mom destroyed herself goin' after that thing."

"Why would she do something like that?"

Missouri sent him a comforting smile.

"Well, to protect her boys, of course."

Sam nodded, though there were tears in his eyes. Clint would never admit it, but he could feel the sting of unshed tears in his own eyes. Missouri lifted her hand, like she was going to place it on Sam's shoulder, but she stopped herself.

"Sam," she said gently. "I'm sorry."

"For what?" Sam asked her, confused.

"You didn't do anything," Clint added.

Missouri shook her head, looking upset.

"You sensed it was here, didn't you? Even when I couldn't."

"What's happening to me?" Sam's voice was full of worry, and Clint sat beside him, placing a hand on his arm.

"Nothing, Sam. You've just got some awesome super powers, is all."

Sam cracked a small smile at that, and Missouri looked at them both with affection in her eyes. It was then that Dean walked over, car keys dangling from his fingertips.

"Sam, Clint, you ready?" he said, and Sam nodded, standing up and going to the car. Clint stood and walked over to his brothers, bidding them farewell and offering each of them a brief hug.

"Make sure you visit," he said to them, and they nodded with genuine smiles on their faces.

"Don't you boys be strangers!" Missouri called after them, and Dean chuckled.

"We won't!" he called back, and they climbed into the Impala.

"See you around," the psychic said, and Jenny waved to the three brothers and they drove away.

END

Word Count: 2,590 without A/N