CH. 2

Are We Under Attack?

Clint cautiously approached the crater with his bow carefully aimed at the potential threat. There were two winged figures. A young man who appeared to be in his late teens with vibrant white wings, and a young boy around the age of eleven with tattered black wings. The younger boy was tucked safely into the protective embrace of the elder. When it became clear that neither were moving, he turned to the commander.

"What do you want to do boss?" He asked.

"Stand down for now, but I want both of them secured until we know what they are, and what they are after." He answered, signaling to his men to collect the winged creatures. The scientist, Eric Selvig, hovered over their shoulders excitedly as the agents carefully lifted the boys, mindful of their wings, delicately extracting the younger from the elder's arms.

"I want you to run some tests to see if we can learn more about them." Eric was so absorbed in his thoughts that he didn't hear the order until it was repeated.

"Sorry, right." He said distractedly. Even though he felt a little conflicted to be working on kids, he would be lying if he said the scientist in him wasn't utterly fascinated by them. He could feel all the equations, theories, and possibilities buzzing around his head. Who are they? What are they? What do they want? What can they do? Needless to say his mind was distracted from the Tesseract for the time.

Dean woke up with what felt to be the killer of all hangovers. Thing is though, he didn't remember drinking, actually, he didn't think he could even get drunk anymore. "Oh, god my head." He groaned. Feeling it throb with every heartbeat, the blinding lights overhead didn't help. His back felt an extra weight that twitched as he slowly blinked himself into awareness.

"God Sammy, dim the lights would ya?" He complained. Something felt off, apart from the massive headache drilling his brains to mush. Sounded off too. Dean quickly sat upright, ignoring his head's protest of pain at the sudden altitude change. "What the hell?" His voice was a little higher…younger, and he definitely was NOT imagining the weight on his back. He noticed there was a large mirror on the white painted wall, to be honest it looked like those two-way mirrors they had in interrogation rooms, but at that point he could care less. He threw the thin white blankets off his legs and walked over to the mirror and saw a younger image of himself reflected back. He looked about seventeen, maybe eighteen years of age. He also didn't seem to have any of his previous scars or injuries. But the main shocking difference was the addition. Two startling white wings spanned out from his back. They moved freely when his conscious touched them, like another limb. He allowed them to stretch out to their full length, and even he had to admit that he was impressed. He also noted with displeasure that they took the liberty of changing his clothes to white drawstring pants. They didn't even bother with a shirt. His green eyes darted from his reflection to the side in thought. It was beginning to come back to him. Jack. Jack did something. If Dean looked like this, Sam must be in a similar position. Speaking of…where was Sam? He looked around the barren white room equipped with the bare minimum. A bathroom, a bed, a table and two chairs, but most importantly, no Sam. His cold hard glare settled back onto the two-way mirror. Somehow, he knew someone was watching from the other side, and they knew where Sam was.

"Well sir, if I can tell you anything it's that that glare doesn't belong to a kid, but a killer." Clint observed. He was rather familiar with the look. Though it wasn't the impassive stare of an assassin. No, this was a hateful, vengeful stare that promised pain. It looked odd on the youthful fair face. The boy's initial reaction, however, was rather strange. He didn't panic at being in an unfamiliar environment, but at the same time seemed utterly shocked by his own appearance. He also noticed that the large white appendages seemed to surprise the boy.

"Hey dickwads!" A rude voice disturbed him from his thoughts, "What the hell do you want! And where's Sammy!?" The youth inquired, his voice a little lower than what he pictured it would be.

Director Fury just snorted at the kid's vulgarity. "I guess that's our cue." He stated walking over to the door just next to the mirror from where they had been observing the winged teen.

Clint followed Fury in glad to be wearing his bow and gun. If his instincts were right, then this kid was dangerous.

"Please have a seat." Fury asked amiably, his hand outstretched towards the chair closest to the bed. The kid's muscles twitched as if he couldn't decide whether to sit, or to fight. In the end he plopped down in the chair looking deceptively relaxed.

"So, what does Cyclops and Robin Hood want with me and my brother?" He asked cockily, and Clint had to fight to keep the smile off his face. He kinda liked this kid.

"That's what we want to know." Fury fired back, "Middle of a secret guarded facility and you and your brother pop in uninvited. We want to know why and how."

Dean's face visibly relaxed when he heard the news of his brother, so he was here. "Believe me, I want to know that as well. I'm not sure how my brother and I got here." He stated. It was kind of true, and not true at all. He knew it had something to do with Jack. He just couldn't figure out the how or why.

Fury leveled an unbelieving stare. "You have no idea how you magically appeared here past all my expertly trained armed guards?" He deadpanned.

"That's what I'm saying." Dean shot him a patented smirk. Trying to ignore the strange buzzing he suddenly felt in his head, not painful per say, just odd.

"DEAN!" a voice shouted in his head and the smirk fell immediately, replaced by another cold hard stare. Both agents visibly tensed at the dramatic change, and Clint felt his hand twitch towards his weapon.

"DEAN!" It was Sam's voice, but it sounded much younger. If Dean had to place it, he would guess around thirteen or fourteen. It also seemed as though neither one of his interrogators could hear him. Feeling weird as hell he tried talking back in his head.

"Sammy?" He tentatively asked.

"Dean?!" The voice asked incredulously, yet relieved, "Is that you? You sound different! Did you change too? How are we talking to each other?"

"Slow down Sammy!" Dean thought, feeling a little overwhelmed, "Dude, one question at a time. Yes, I've changed. I think I'm around seventeen…maybe eighteen. You're probably four years younger than me still. I'm assuming you are newly equipped with wings and a harp as well" He could feel the pause on the other end. "Sammy?"

"Yeah, I'm still here. I'm just thinking." He answered in a pensive tone. "I think Jack did this. I think we might be angels….or something similar."

Dean's brows furrowed in confusion, and he could tell the other to men in the room were confused as hell. "What makes you think that Sam?" He asked, wondering how in the possible hell Sam could know that.

"I remember Jack using Lucifer and Michael's grace to do something to us. I'm not sure why we turned back into kids though. I wonder if it's a side effect. I don't remember their wings being visible either." Sam finished on a curious note, and by gods this was NOT the time to go all geek boy.

"Sam!" Dean scolded, "Focus! Where are you? What do you see?"

Dean could practically feel Sam blush in shame before collecting his thoughts.

"Mmm, empty white room with a large mirror…probably a two way. Two guards are standing there on the other side." He answered.

Something in Sam's answer made him freeze up. "Sam" He asked cautiously, "How did you know the number of guards behind a window you can't see through?"

He felt Sam's panicky thoughts brush against his before settling, "I don't know Dean. It's probably part of whatever Jack did. Right now, we got bigger problems!" He huffed out. Sam did have a point Dean thought to himself as his eyes returned to the men in front of him, both eyeing him warily. The buzzing in his head stopped as he realized the connection broke.

"What was that about?" Clint asked from where he was leaning on the door frame with his arms crossed. The kid just completely checked out for a couple of minutes. It almost seemed as though he was having a conversation with someone. The glazed over look was immediately gone and he leveled them with a hard stare that was way beyond his years. Like a soldier Clint mentally confirmed.

"I need to see my brother." He firmly demanded. Fury let out a sigh as though he was being patient with an unruly kid and leaned forward and clasped his hands.

"Tell you what, give us something we can work with and maybe I can work something out with your brother." Fury could tell the other boy was fiercely protective of the other, but he certainly could not have predicted the other's reaction.

Dean stood up so quickly his chair flew back and hit the wall and slammed his palms angrily down onto the table, permanently warping the metal, surprising the other two men, and quite honestly Dean himself. Clint immediately had his gun trained on the boy, but the other wasn't even looking at him.

"We can do this the easy way, or the hard way." The young man lowered his voice to a threatening growl.

"What's the easy way?" Fury asked, humoring the youth. Not allowing his intimidation to show.

"You bring me to my brother, no harm no foul." He stated.

"And the hard way?" Fury pressed, and a viscous smirk painted on the young man's face, and he didn't seem so angelic then.

"Then I tear this whole place apart and anyone in it who keeps me from my brother." He growled out, words dripping in promise, wings fanning out threatingly behind him.

A chill ran down the archer's back, and he didn't spook easy. This went far beyond protective, but he couldn't find it in him to doubt the young man's words. He glanced at the dented table and then over to Fury. They didn't have the facilities here to hold someone of this kid's strength here, and Fury knew it too. Which is precisely why he acquiesced under the false pretense of showing good faith. The kid nodded his head sharply before making to follow Nick Fury though the door. His wings folded tightly against his back. Clint trailing behind, his weapons within easy reach. He didn't feel comfortable showing this kid his back.

Dean made sure to scope and memorize every corridor they went through, though he was quickly realizing that every door was secured with a high level of technological security even he couldn't crack. Not allowing himself to become dismayed he trailed on till they stopped in front of his brother's door. Noting with unease that it was guarded by two personnel, just like his brother had said.

"Open it." Nick Fury commanded, and as soon as they armed personnel opened the door, Dean was shouldering his way past the guards and into the room. His little brother was sitting on the bed similarly dressed. Two battered looking black wings behind him. His head was down with his chestnut hair flopping over his eyes. Dean felt his concern grow when Sam didn't hear the door open.

"Sammy." He didn't even register that he whispered the words before his brother's head snapped up.

"Dean!" He shouted, quickly hopping off the bed to walk over to his brother who promptly gathered him into his arms. To hell with chick flick moments, his little brother was now literally a foot shorter than him again. He pulled back when he heard his brother's squeak of protest and kept him at arm's length to assess for injuries. He noticed that he correctly placed Sam's age as he looked identical to how he did when he was thirteen. He gripped his brother's arms under the elbows when his careful eyes picked up track marks in the creases.

"Well, what do you think?" Fury asked the archer as they both observed the scene.

"I think the kid is good." Barter stated. Further elaborating at Nick Fury's confused look. "Kid asked questions that only demanded information that he wanted without revealing anything about himself. While we were walking here, I noticed he was mapping out the facility and any possible exits. I would say this kid has to be militarily trained."

"Well, that is unsettling. You think they are some kind of military experiment?"

"Don't know. But what I see right now is a big brother concerned for his little brother's being." Clint answered almost wistfully. Watching as the elder, he heard addressed as Dean, run frantic hands over the smaller boy before settling at his elbows.

"What did you do to him?" Dean bit out. Quietly at first before repeating himself in a harsh shout.

"What did you do to my little brother!?" He promptly let go of Sam and menacingly approached the dark-skinned man. The older teen's broad shoulder's tense with ire.

"Relax, we only took a few blood samples, nothing more. We took a few from you as well." A new voice addressed.

Dean glanced over to see an older fellow dressed in plaid walk behind Fury, handing him a chart.

"My name is Eric Selvig, I am a scientist here." He introduced.

Dean felt a frown tug at his lips as he observed the creases of his own arms, but there wasn't even a trace of any track marks.

"You healed almost instantaneously. Quite honestly I don't think I have ever seen anything quite like it." He answered for him, almost like he read his mind.

Dean felt his brows furrow before glancing back to his brother.

"Then why didn't Sam…" He trailed off. The scientist's eyes crinkled in sympathy.

"That's what we were hoping you would tell us." He answered.

"Dean…maybe when Jack transformed me something happened." His little brother's voice paused, "Maybe I'm broken." He added weakly, painfully reminding him of all the times Sam had a problem he couldn't fix.

Dean turned angrily to his little brother, his wings flared out with his temper. "You're not broken Sam!" He shouted, the lights flickering at his voice.

Clint brows shot up to his hairline.

"Telepathy! Incredible!" Eric muttered amazed, tearing the clip board from Fury to furiously write down notes.

Sam shot Dean a pissy look, "Way to go Dean! Why do you think I was talking in my head!" He chastised his older brother.

"Well, if you weren't saying such stupid things, I wouldn't have said anything." The elder defended, unrepentant.

Clint was surprised. The youth named Dean seemed very cautious with revealing information, but it was clear his little brother was a weak spot, causing his emotions to cloud his judgment.

Nick Fury cleared his throat to regain the room's attention amidst the banter. "Now that I have your attention." He addressed the room and Dean shifted his body protectively in front of the younger, "I would like to know why and how you guys showed up here."

Sam shifted from around his older brother's body, ignoring Dean's warning, "Sam". He wanted to stand in front of them, but Dean's arm swiftly grabbed his brother around his narrow shoulders and crushed him against his side. Sam let out an irritated huff, but it was clear that Dean wasn't about to let him go any closer to the government agents. Sam cursed his now smaller stature and wiggled against the uncomfortable pressure placed on his sensitive wings. Thankfully Dean took mercy upon his brother and let up his grip ever so slightly.

"Look, we don't know how we got here either. Honest. We just want to go home." Sam pleaded. Turning his puppy dog eyes imploringly towards the agents from underneath his bangs.

Either the kid was an excellent liar, or he was telling the truth. Nick Fury let out a sigh and sat down at the table, both sets of young eyes tracking him professionally, Clint noted.

"Be that as it may, we can't let you leave until we figure out what's going on." He stated reasonably. Dean snorted his obvious disapproval.

"That's bullshit! Me and my brother aren't staying here to be lab rats for a bunch of government wackjobs!" He exclaimed. He stopped cold mid rant when he heard his brother whimper and he looked down to see Sam clutching his head in his hands. His smaller body pushing back instinctively to seek his brother's comfort.

"Sammy?" He softly asked.

"My head!" Sam whimpered out. His legs going out with a cry. He would have collapsed to the ground had his older brother not caught him. Dean slowly lowered both of them to the ground as he let his brother ride whatever the hell it was in his arms.

"Stay back!" Dean barked out as the agents tried to approach the brothers. His wings flared out in warning.

"I might be able to help; your brother is clearly in pain." Eric calmly stated, his palms up as if he were approaching a wild animal. Dean's glare didn't let up, and the scientist ceased his approach. Instinctively not daring to come any closer. He finally allowed his gaze to slip from the potential threats when he felt Sam stir.

"Sammy?" He whispered against his brother's head. Careful not to jostle him. His brother blearily opened his hazel eyes, but he wasn't looking at Dean, but Nick Fury.

"Someone is coming." He whispered out conspiratorially, and Dean tensed when the dark-skinned man with the eyepatch approached his brother and crouched down to their level.

"Who?" He asked in a no-nonsense tone. No doubt in his words. Sam shook his head in confusion.

"I don't know, they aren't from here. He is coming for a glowing blue box." Sam tried to relay what he had just seen in his head, "He does something to your friends, and they turn on you." Sam slowly blinks a few more times before falling unconscious, head dropping heavily on his brother's shoulder.

"Fascinating!" The scientist blurted out dropping to his knees next to Fury for a closer look. Dean legitimately growled as he shifted his brother closer in his arms.

When it became clear Sam wouldn't say anymore Nick Fury allowed his eye to drift to the older.

"Want to explain to me what in the hell that was." He asked, but it wasn't really stated as a question.

"Not really." Dean bit out. Not enjoying feeling like a little boy being scolded by his father, and the sentiment unnerved him. With a look of determination, he gathered his brother in his arms and stood up, walking towards the door before Clint shifted in front of him, blocking his exit.

"No hard feelings kid." Was the only explanation he received as the archer crossed his arms with an impassive expression.

"And where do you think your going?" Fury asked. Dean glared hard at the blond man in front of him, but the agent made no move to allow him by. He redirected his glare to the man behind him.

"Listen, me and my brother have no clue how we got here, we aren't going cause any trouble and we will be out of your hair,…or shiny bald head, as soon as you let us!" Dean said in exasperation.

"You might be done with us, but we aren't done with you. And I'm rather interested in what your brother just said." Fury coolly stated gesturing to the now unconscious younger boy in Dean's arms.

"The hell you are!" Dean growled out. As his fury built, he felt the odd sensation of pressure that begged to be let out build up within his chest. Sensing the shift in atmosphere Clint readied his gun, but it was too late. Dean's eyes glowed blue as he released the pressure and the force drove everyone to the ground before they had a chance to fire, smashing all the lights, darkening the blaring white room.

"Holy shit!" Dean shouted, surprised at what had just transpired. When he heard the shifting of bodies coming back to conscious, he stepped over the bodies on the floor towards the door and took off with Sam.

"Right, contemplation of freaky powers later, saving our assess now!" He rambled to himself as he sprinted down the halls, avoiding every corridor that contained a door he knew he could never open. It wasn't long before he heard the tromping of feet behind him, but he was surprised by how fast he could sprint while carrying his brother. He chanced a look behind himself and saw the troops fall behind. He let a grin split his face as he ran on, adjusting his brother in his arms. When he was headed off the other end of the corridor, he leaped over the side rail to hop down to the level below. Praising he didn't know who that his wings were actually functional as he gracefully flew down. Those praises ended as quickly as they began when he realized that they were completely surrounded. Dean made towards where he assumed would be the weakest link, before an authoritative voice caused him to freeze.

"Stop!" Fury shouted, the other agents parting as he made his way with Clint to the center. "You have nowhere to go." He pointed out gesturing to all the troops with their weapons out and drawn on him and his brother. "Let's not do anything irrational."

Dean looked around and felt the panic begin to settle in. There were over two hundred armed military personnel and all the exits were sealed. He clutched Sam closer to his frantically beating heart and looked down to his face when he heard his little brother groan.

"Dean? What's going on?" He moaned out. Slowly taking in the scene around him. Dean simply held him even tighter. Wishing he could be anywhere else, wishing that for once he could actually protect this brother.

"Sam, I'm sorry-" He began to apologize when he felt a shift around him in the air. And suddenly he was no longer in the government facility, but in an open field, clutching his equally bewildered brother in his arms.

"What the hell!" Dean shouted out into the open air, just to have it echo back to him.