Chapter 4: Truth and Consequences:
Fuck. Every goddamn time I think something can't get worse it somehow does. Dean writhed again under the seemingly massive wall of a man pinning him against the cheap motel's plaster. I knew the feds would find us after what happened in Tulsa-fucking local sheriff was a nightmare, but I thought he was bluffing when he said his brother was with the government. Sam was right, I shouldn't have screwed with his car just to spite him when we left town.
"As much as I find it humorous that you think you'll break free, I was saying that you two have a choice to make." He looked at the large man, "And if you agree to not do anything stupid I'll have Brian let you down."
Dean huffed and scowled at Agent Board, "Fine."
Brian let go of Dean's collar and set him on the ground before nudging him toward the table by the side of the room. Dean grunted as he was shoved and mumbled something about the guy eating too many Wheaties. Within a minute both he and Sam were sitting in two chairs across the linoleum coated plywood from the monstrosity of a man in a black suit while Agent Board had walked over toward the door.
"I want to make it clear that our intention isn't to harm either of you or your angelic friend." He looked at Cas who was shooting daggers at the man as he'd realized he couldn't enter the room, "As a show of good faith I will allow him in the room, albeit with continued warding to make sure he is still manageable." Board then flipped over a painting on the wall and revealed a hidden set of markings in Enochian. He broke the first line allowing Cas to enter the premises of the room. The angel quickly did and stood beside the brothers.
"So what do you want?" Sam asked. "I didn't exactly get an explanation when you took me hostage in our motel bathroom for twenty minutes.
"I apologize about that. We were told to speak to both of you at once and it was the most viable option to make sure you did not attempt to escape. The truth is, I work for a division of the CIA. We don't have an official name because officially we don't exist, but most of us have taken to calling it 'The Monster Squad'. We're hunters, like you, only we're officially sanctioned by the government and don't have to falsify documents or fake identities frequently enough to have sixteen outstanding warrants." He paused as Sam glared at Dean. "We've been watching you for some time now and I've been sent to make you an offer. Either join us and gain amnesty for all your past actions and work to hunt monsters under our purview, or we'll take you prisoner and make sure you're locked up for a very long time."
"Is there that big a difference between prison and working for you guys?" Dean snarked, "If we're working for the CIA chances are we'll still have to do exactly what you say and I'm guessing that screwing up results in something worse than being written up and sent to training."
Board rolled his eyes, "I understand that your father raised you to question authority, specifically the government, but do keep in mind that ultimately I'm the one who approves you being hired." He nearly hissed, "You might want to show a little respect if you don't want to end up in two super-max prisons on opposite sides of the country in cells especially designed to keep you there-supernatural or otherwise."
"So what happens if we do join?" Sam asked.
"If you accept our offer you, along with your angel friend if he so chooses, will be transported to our headquarters. There you'll meet some of the other agents and be officially admitted into our ranks. Once you've gone through all the training you'll be given cases to hunt. That's it. Aside from the official government endorsement and access to far better quality weapons and a legitimate cash-flow it won't be much different from your lives at the moment."
The brothers exchanged a quick glance. "Can we have a moment to discuss our options in private?" Sam asked.
"No."
Sam frowned as he looked at Dean. His older brother was silent, but it was clear that he was thinking.
"We'll do it." Dean replied. Because there's no way in hell you're sticking Sammy in some prison all by himself.
"Excellent. And what about you?" He turned toward Cas. "I know you are an angel, and as such we can't force you to do anything, but we would appreciate you as a consultant if nothing else."
Cas was quiet a moment before he responded, "My brethren and I were created to help humans in as great a way as possible. I suppose that I can assist as long as it does not cause any changes so great as to disrupt the plans set in place."
"Wonderful. When we get to the center you can come and go as you please. We have it warded against demons, but you should be able to get in without any issues." He gestured to Brian. "Alright, let's get these two to the center."
**SPN**
The Center, as the brothers came to realize the name of their new employer's headquarters was called, was located in a large concrete building in lower Manhattan. According to the general public the large brutalist structure was the home of a switching center for the Bell Telephone Company, which explained the total lack of windows on the structure. The entry was a set of reinforced foot-thick steel doors, behind which was a massive lobby completely devoid of details aside from chalky white granite on the floor and rough concrete walls.
After getting into an elevator-which required a specialized punch-card to access-it was soon revealed that the subsequent floors were not telephone switching banks. They were in fact a combination of offices, training rooms, detainment cells, and storage facilities.
"…which brings us to floor thirty-seven, which is where you two are getting off." Board remarked as he stepped out of the elevator. "Janet will take care of entering you into our system. After that you can help yourself to food in the commissary before your meeting with R at 6:30."
Sam and Dean stepped off into a waiting room of sorts. There were a handful of comfortable looking chairs beside a reception desk where a single woman sat typing furiously on a machine that appeared to be a mix of a type-writer and television set. She didn't look up as the elevator dinged shut and the brothers were left standing in the middle of the red-carpeted room. Sam glanced at Dean who also seemed to be as lost as him. It had been a lot to take in on the car ride over, and even more on the elevator as Board had described every floor and its purpose. Eventually they came to terms with the situation and walked toward the desk.
"Hello, are you Janet?" Dean asked as he glanced at the device she was typing into.
"Yes. And I suppose you two are the two new recruits I've been told to enter into our system."
"That would be us." Dean smiled, turning on the Winchester charm. "Sure is a big building, it's a shame they stuck you all by yourself in here."
She glanced up and continued typing at the same speed. "While I appreciate the flattery I'm not interested. Please fill out the forms on the table, when you're done they'll start the physical portion."
"Physical portion?" Sam tilted his head slightly.
She sighed, "One of these days it would be nice if they actually told people about all the steps." She stopped typing, "Once you finish the forms they'll make sure you're in decent shape, then you're good to go. Now if you don't mind I have to finish these reports."
"Sorry. Thanks for your time." Sam smiled as he nudged Dean to follow him back to the chairs they'd walked past. After looking for a minute they saw two stacks of forms sitting on the table between a set of chairs in the middle of the room. Dean flipped through the pages and saw that there were easily sixty sheets.
"What are they want us to do, write our life stories?" He muttered.
"Either way, the less complaining the quicker you'll get them done." Sam handed Dean a pen from the drawer on the side table.
"I'll complain and I'll still get them done before you." Dean murmured as he started filling out the first page. He paused to pull out a cigarette and once he was smoking he leaned against the arm.
"Whatever you say." Sam said as he slouched in his chair and started page two.