Hi, if the mentions of the Civil War in the title and summary didn't turn you off, the fact that I essentially plagiarized an episode of NCIS probably will… I will futilely try to defend myself in the notes at the end of this chapter.

Disclaimer (and this is the only one you're getting): I do not own the Supernatural, Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D., or any other related recognizable characters and/or properties contained within. All rights go to Warner Brothers, Marvel Comics, Marvel Entertainment, ABC Studios, and any other interested third party (I don't think I could name them all.) This work contains lines from NCIS Season 3, Episode 4 "Silver War", Supernatural Season 4, Episode 17 "It's a Terrible Life", and concepts and characters from both shows and Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. All credit for those lines and concepts go to John C. Kelley, Joshua Lurie, Eric Kripke, Sera Gamble, Joss Whedon, Jed Whedon, Maurissa Tancharoen, and Jeffrey Bell respectively.

This fic is rated T and contains a discussions of the Civil War and gun violence. If you are easily distressed by such topics, please do not read this fic. Otherwise, it contains nothing worse than average fare for Supernatural, including depictions of violence and strong language.

Finally, I do not consent to my works being hosted on any unofficial app, particularly ones with ad revenue and subscription services. You should only be able to read this on FFN and AO3. Nowhere else. If you see my stories being hosted on a third-party application, report it to iTunes or the Google Play Store immediately.

The Road So Far…

When Dean Winchester was pulled out of Hell and resurrected by the angels, the first person he met was a woman by the name of Skye. She seemed innocent enough at first, but when she kept appearing where Dean and his brother Sam just so happened to be, Dean started to grow suspicious. Particularly of how she seemed to know what was going to happen before it happened.

Before he could question her about it, though, Dean had an encounter with the angel Castiel that led to Dean having a panic attack. One so bad that Sam mistook it for a heart attack and rushed Dean to the hospital. While Dean was being treated, Sam ran into Skye again. At first Sam couldn't get Skye to talk, but after an encounter with a series of vengeful spirits known as the Witnesses, Skye was more willing to explain the situation.

Four months earlier, Skye had awoken in the middle of a field hundreds of miles from where she lived. When she looked through her backpack for any clues, she found a manuscript of what appeared to be a supernatural fantasy novel. She didn't think that the manuscript was real until she had an encounter with a demon who possessed a person in the exact same manner as described in the book. That's when she realized everything in the manuscript was true and took a note on the front to "fix this" to mean that she was meant to interfere with events somehow.

Once Dean had recovered from his angel encounter, he and Sam brought Skye to their friend and mentor, Bobby Singer's house. There, they questioned her under the impression that they had given her truth serum. (It was holy water. There's no such thing as truth serum.) Thinking she couldn't lie; Skye answered their questions honestly.

Although it didn't exactly earn their full trust, it was enough to convince the Winchesters and Bobby to let her stay with them. At least, until she knew enough to defend herself from the supernatural. That was all well and good to Skye, so long as they didn't figure out what she was hiding.

When telling her story, Skye conveniently left out the part where she recently developed supernatural powers of her own. She didn't know why and how she gained these powers, but she could now feel the vibrations of everything around her and could even create shockwaves and earthquakes. She used those powers to help dispatch the witnesses and later to let Sam into the Impala after Dean locked him out. She probably would have said something about them eventually, but after she saw the way Dean reacted to Sam's powers, she decided it'd be safer not to.

Dean had been angry when he'd discovered that Sam had been working with Ruby behind his back to use his powers to exorcise demons. Sam tried to argue that he was only trying to do what he thought was good and right with something that everyone had deemed a curse, but Dean shut that down by informing him that the angels didn't want him using his powers. Specifically, Castiel had come to Dean and informed him that if he didn't stop Sam, the angels would.

Not wanting to see his brother get struck down by the holy powers of heaven, Dean put all his energy into convincing Sam to stop. They even continued their argument after they got ambushed by a group of mercenaries who wanted to steal a cursed object from Bobby's house. Finally, Dean hit his last straw. He decided to show Sam that there was something truly wrong with him by cutting his arm and pouring holy water over the wound. Sam's blood reacted to the holy water, which seemingly proved Dean's point.

Sam still didn't back down. He made one last impassioned speech about how he was trying to make the most of the terrible hand he'd been dealt as an infant; to take the curse and "make something good out of it because [he] had to." Dean didn't react well to that, and Skye saw it. It didn't help with what happened next either.

Skye chased after one of the mercenaries who was trying to run off with the curse box and managed to tackle her to the ground. When she did, the curse box broke open and the object – the Obelisk – was freed from its housing. Not thinking, Skye picked up the Obelisk and it started to glow in her hand. Startled, she dropped it, allowing the mercenary to pick it up.

When the mercenary picked it up, she experienced a very different reaction. Instead of glowing in her hand, the Obelisk turned her arm to stone. She was rushed away by the other mercenaries before Skye, or the Winchesters could figure out what was happening to her and thus had to assume that she was killed. That was already traumatic enough on its own, but the icing was put on the cake for Skye when Bobby later told her and Sam that what happened to the mercenary was what normally happened to a person who touched the Obelisk. Meaning Skye should have been killed when she touched it.

That terrified her. She could barely conceive of what implications that had, but the conclusion that she came to was that something was wrong with her – deeply and innately. She couldn't be killed by an evil curse, so there had to be something wrong with her; maybe something even more evil. It could even be tied to her powers…

Perhaps her powers were something like Sam's. Dean seemed to be afraid of Sam's powers and – as far as Skye could tell – it was for good reason. Even the angels were against Sam using his powers, and if angels were against it, it had to be evil, right? Was it the same with her powers? Could she have an evil curse running through her veins as well?

She needed to find out. When no one was looking, she stole a bottle of holy water and brought it back to her van. Once alone, she cut herself and poured the water over the wound, much like Dean did to Sam. Thankfully, there was no reaction. The blood just mixed with the water and slid off her arm. Skye cried with relief, but that was only very short-lived.

She still didn't know what was wrong with her or where her powers had come from. The only thing she did know was that she had to hide these powers from everyone, but particularly she had to hide them from Dean. He thought that Sam's powers were evil, and Sam was his brother. That was probably the only thing keeping Dean from killing Sam. She didn't have the luxury of that protection. If Dean found out about her powers, he would kill her. Of that, Skye was certain.

Now

Tuesday, September 30th, 2008

Manassas, Virginia

It was a warm, if somewhat cloudy day in Virginia. It wasn't perfect weather, but ideal enough to get some work done outside. For the workers of Alan Flores' construction company, the weather change was welcomed kindly. Any opportunity to be productive and make progress on meeting the deadline would be well-taken.

The project was seemingly simple. They were tasked with building a new branch of Washington General Bank. The plans were standard and matched the general layout of the bank's other branches. Typically, a job like this would be easy, especially considering Flores' company had constructed buildings for Washington General before and had completed them in a timely manner. When he took the job, Flores had no doubts in his mind that he and his team could do it again.

This time, though, they were running into unforeseen problems, all of which stemmed from where the bank was being built. It was in an up-and-coming housing development less than a mile from the historic Bull Run Battlefield. Obviously, one of the concerns in constructing the bank – and the rest of the development for that matter – was the potential disturbance and destruction of artifacts related to the Civil War. To prevent this, the owners of the development paid for an archeological dig to be conducted before they broke ground to ensure that the area was clear of any objects of historical significance or long-forgotten remains.

That was where the problems started. After the archeological dig had been conducted, the woman who had been hired to oversee it – Dr. Elaine Burns – protested the construction of the bank specifically. The rest of the site she had deemed perfectly suitable for development, but the land the bank was being built on top of was not to be touched.

Burns felt so strongly about this, that she had taken the matter to court. There, she argued that she had reason to believe that relics of historical significance were still buried under that specific plot of land. If construction were to continue, most of those objects would certainly be destroyed. The court, however, disagreed. Burns had already reported that she had cleared the entirety of the development – including the bank. If she needed more time to dedicate to the excavation, she had her chance to ask for it.

The court had ruled that construction could continue, but by that point the time spent litigating had set the project back significantly. That left Flores and his workers to rush to get their work done and the bank built by their deadline of the end of the year. That was a hassle enough, but it wasn't all they had to deal with, because that hadn't been the end of the story for Dr. Burns.

When going through the courts didn't work, she started protesting outside the construction site – loudly. Fortunately, she didn't seem to be looking for others to join her and it remained a protest of one. However, she still managed to be distracting and disruptive by getting in the way of deliveries and workers entering and leaving the lot, specifically Flores. He was getting sick of it, especially now that Burns was changing her tune about why construction should be halted.

That day, they made it to mid-afternoon without incident. For a moment, Flores let himself think that Burns had finally given up on her crusade and they'd be able to get some work done. That was, until one of his supervisors, named Fulton, came running up to him.

"Hey Boss," the worker said as he approached. "The crazy lady is back!"

Flores huffed angrily. He didn't have the time or the patience for this today. Catching onto his boss' frustration, Fulton at least had the decency to look apologetic.

"Want me to call the cops?" Flores shook his head.

"Nah," he said. "We'll waste more time waiting for them to get here. I'll go handle it myself."

With that, Flores started heading for the front gate where he knew Burns would be. She wasn't hard to miss. Her short blonde hair swayed in the breeze as she held onto the chain link fence. Unsurprisingly, she looked distressed. Flores didn't bother to hold back his exasperated sigh.

"Burns," he said. "What are you doing here? You know this is a closed site."

"You know what I'm doing here," she said. "I'm here to demand you shut down construction immediately."

"Yeah, that's not going to happen," Flores said. "Come on, you've been trying this shit for months. You know you can't do anything about this."

"But you don't understand what you're doing," Burns said. "How many times do I have to tell you that this land is cursed?" Flores rolled his eyes.

"You're still going with that story?" he questioned.

"Yes, because it's the truth!" Burns cried.

"Sure it is, sweetheart," Flores said. "So's the pet cemetery down the street. Heard Stephen King made a whole movie about it."

"You don't take me seriously because I'm a woman," Burns accused.

"I don't take you seriously because you're bat shit crazy," Flores said. "I mean, come on! Curses? Ghosts? None of that is real and I'm not stupid. You had your chance to search this land. You found nothing. Now, can you step back and let us do our jobs?"

"You have to listen to me," Burns begged. "This land is cursed by a vengeful spirit. You will be dead by tomorrow if you don't stop construction now." Flores let out a dismissive snort.

"I don't think so," he said. "I think you're just pissed that the court didn't rule your way and you're acting out. My ex-wife did the same thing when I got the house. On the off-chance I do die tomorrow, I'll be sure to put a good word in for you with St. Peter. Now, get out of my construction site before I call the cops."

Dr. Burns face grew dark as she regarded Flores coldly.

"You're going to regret that," she said.

"Why? Are you going to make me?" Burns kept her intense gaze on Flores a few moments longer before looking down. "Thought so. Now get out of here. If you're not gone in five minutes, I'm calling the cops."

Burns said nothing further. She turned and walked back to her car. Flores waited and watched as she turned over the engine, backed away from the construction site and pulled down the empty road. He waited a few moments more to make sure she was really gone. Satisfied that she wasn't coming back, Flores went right back to work. He couldn't spend his time dilly-dallying. He had a deadline to meet, after all.

The streetlights were on by the time Flores returned home. His driveway was empty, and his house was dark, as it should be. He took his time getting out of his truck, eyes heavy and muscles sore from a hard day's work.

Flores looked around his quiet neighborhood before entering his house through the garage. He didn't see anything out of the ordinary, but he still had a weird feeling in the pit of his stomach. He couldn't explain it. Something was just off. Eventually, he just shook his head and dismissed it as his exhausted mind playing tricks on him. He then continued to make his way inside.

For a moment as he was stepping through the threshold of the kitchen, Flores considered skipping dinner and heading straight to bed. However, his stomach protested loudly to that. He hadn't had breakfast that morning and he worked straight through lunch trying to make up for lost time. He was starving and he couldn't ignore it anymore. So, he got a microwave meal out of the freezer and popped it in the titular appliance.

Shutting the door, Flores pressed the "3" and the "2" before looking back down at the packaging to check if the time was supposed to be "3:20" or "3:25." Almost as soon as he looked away, the microwave let out several sharp beeps all at once. He jerked his head back up in surprise and his eyes went straight to the display. He saw that the numbers on the digital screen had changed. Instead of displaying what he typed in, the time "9:11" was displayed, and in what seemed like the blink of an eye, the microwave started on its own.

Flores rushed to hit the release button for the door. At once, the plate stopped spinning and the door popped open. Right away, Flores started inspecting the appliance, trying to find what went wrong. After a few minutes of looking, he couldn't see anything wrong and decided to give up. The microwave was probably just getting old. He couldn't remember exactly when he bought it, so it was probably just on its way out.

Dismissing the error as such, Flores typed in the correct time and started up the microwave. Once his meal was underway and he felt certain that nothing was going to go wrong, he stood with his back against the counter and started to wait. While he stood there, Flores shivered a bit and rubbed his arms. He let out a curse. Although it had been a warm day, now that night had settled in the temperature was dipping towards freezing. He could swear he could see his breath in the air. It annoyed him, but he supposed it was just that time of year.

When the microwave finally beeped, Flores took out his meal and headed to the living room. On the way to his chair, he stopped in front of the thermostat to check the temperature. He raised his eyebrows in surprise when the digital display showed that it was set to ninety-one degrees. He let out another curse as he realized that not only was the microwave broken, but the house's heating system as well.

"Great," he muttered to himself. "Is there is anything in this house that's going to fucking work?"

Although he knew it was useless, Flores turned the temperature down to sixty-one degrees. He doubted the heat would kick on, but for some neurotic reason it made him feel better. He then continued to the living room where he collapsed into his favorite recliner. He let out a groan as he pulled back on the lever to recline the chair.

Shutting his eyes for a moment, he briefly wondered if he would have been better off letting his ex-wife taking the house in the divorce. He quickly dismissed that thought. Despite the house's problems, seeing her cry in court when the judge gave his ruling was worth it.

Fishing the remote control out from between the cushions, Flores turned the TV on. It switched right on to ESPN where he had left it the night before. He put the remote down on the coffee table and got settled in to eat his meal. Right as he was bringing the first forkful of reheated beef up to his mouth, the menu display suddenly appeared across the top of the screen.

Flores glanced over at the remote on the table and furrowed his brows. Nothing had fallen on top of the device, nor were any of the buttons being pressed down. Confused, he looked back at the screen to see that a new channel number was being punched in, "911."

Before he could do anything to stop it, the channel changed to a black screen with the words, "This channel is unavailable with your current Direct TV package. Please call 1-800-531-5000 to learn more." Flores cursed again as he picked up the remote. He didn't know what was happening, but it was starting to make him angry. Aggressively, he punched back in the numbers for ESPN and dropped the remote back down on the coffee table. Hopefully after that, the universe would leave him in peace.

Apparently that was too much to ask for. Again, the menu appeared across the top of the screen and the numbers "911" were being typed in. The channels flipped over, and Flores grabbed the remote. He was going to change the channel back again, but – unprompted – the menu screen appeared again and the numbers "911" were typed in. This repeated three more times before Flores finally had enough.

Setting his food to the side, Flores got up from the chair and headed over to the TV stand the satellite box was stored under. There was a light flashing on the device and Flores figured that's what was causing it to act up. Despite that, he couldn't find exactly what was wrong. As far as he could tell, all the switches were flipped on, and all the wires were connected as they should be.

Flores messed with the satellite box for several minutes with no luck. Eventually, he had to give up. He couldn't spend the whole night trying to find a problem he probably couldn't even solve. He had work in the morning. So, he resigned himself to eating in silence as he got up from off the floor.

Just as Flores turned around to go back to his chair and was floored. There was someone standing behind him. It was a man in what appeared to be a military uniform. The man was gasping like he couldn't breathe and held out a hand to Flores. He almost gagged as he saw how twisted, broken, and bloody the man's fingers were.

"What the hell?" was all Flores could say as the man's form flickered. He didn't know what to do. All he could do was stand there and watch as the distorted figure took a step towards him.

"Help," the man croaked out of strained vocal chords. "Help me." Flores blinked, completely dumbstruck.

"Help me?" Flores repeated in his head. Help you with what?

Before Flores could even think of what to say or do, he felt a horrifying pain exploding in the back of his head. Then, he knew no more.

So, as you know, I didn't like Supernatural Season 4, Episode 4, and Season 4, Episode 5… Well, it's not a bad episode, but I had no idea how to squeeze Skye into the plot of that other than have her stand there, watch, and do nothing. Despite that, I didn't want to jump straight into Season 4, Episode 6 because I felt like Skye probably should go on a couple of hunts with the Winchesters before I pull out all the changes and plot I plan to dump onto that. So, what was my solution? Plagiarize an episode of NCIS of course!

Alright, it isn't entirely plagiarizing. I had to put a supernatural twist on everything for Bobby, Sam, and Dean to get involved. Also, I'm using an character that appeared in the episode in question. Granted, they're a very minor character that only appeared in this one episode, so I think that's enough to classify it as a transformative work and/or an NCIS fanfiction as well. Hehe… Please don't sue me.

If you enjoyed this, please remember to review/comment, favorite/leave kudos, and follow/subscribe! I appreciate all the support I get!

Remember kids, plagio del plagio is a crime in Italy! (Please don't sue me in Italy.)

Originally posted to FFN on 11/14/22.