CH 3
Nick Fury wasn't sure what to think when the boys disappeared as suddenly as they arrived, albeit with less thunder and lightning. One moment they had the boys cornered, the elder holding the younger to his chest as he desperately looked around for an exit, the next they vanished without a trace. Leaving many of his men slack jawed in awe.
"I want men scouring this facility! They may still be here." Fury ordered even though he had a feeling they were long gone as far away as possible.
"Sir?" Clint asked, his tone making It clear that the archer was along the same line of thought.
"We need to cover all our bases. I want those boys found. There is no telling how dangerous they might be." Fury clarified.
Clint nodded his head curtly.
"I'll put some feelers out. I think boys with wings are likely to blip on someone's radar."
"Let's see to it that we find them first." The dark-skinned man stressed before walking away.
"What's going on in here!?" The commander shouted over the noise over raw energy whipping around uncontrollably. When Nick Fury went to check on the Tesseract to check on Eric's progress, the room was in a similar state of chaos as it was just before the two, winged youths appeared.
The scientist simply shrugged, himself bewildered.
"I don't know, she just started misbehaving again!" Eric shouted back.
Fury brought his radio transceiver to his mouth. "Agent Barton, I need you in the lab. We have a problem."
Agent Barton arrived swiftly, pausing to observe the chaotic scene with an analytical eye before regaining his step.
"You think this is the kids again?" Clint asked aloud.
"Actually…" the scientist interrupted.
"What?" Fury motioned for the older man to continue.
"You know that thing Clint said about doors earlier-" He let the sentence hang. Before either one of the other men could respond, the tesseract shot out a pulse of blue energy that opened a portal before it, allowing a sinister figure dressed in bizarre clothes, black hair slicked back, and holding a scepter in hand to appear.
"Someone comes." A soft voice appeared in Fury's head as he recalled what the youth named Sam had stated earlier.
"Sir" Fury addressed the stranger, bringing his attention back to the situation at hand. "Please put down the sphere!" he commanded.
The order went unheeded as the raven-haired man thrust his arm out, shooting a bolt of energy at Fury. Before it could connect, Clint swiftly tackled him out of harm's way, immediately opening fire upon the now identified hostile threat. Unfortunately, it seemed as though bullets were ineffective as the threat took out the team of trained agents with ease, Impervious to their weapons. It was obvious that the man wasn't a normal human.
Clint went to reach for his gun that fell to the floor during the skirmish and felt an iron grip clamp around his wrist. Clint looked over to see the enemy look intently into his eyes with childish amusement.
"You have heart." The raven stated approvingly, bringing the pointed end of his scepter to Clint's chest. Clint felt his will being taken over, his body going still after holstering his weapon in forced obedience.
Fury watched the scene from where he was crouched, Sam's words playing in his head "He does something to your friends, and they turn on you." "He's after a blue box." The last phrase startling Fury into action. The boy predicted this! But at least now Fury knew what the hostile was after. He quickly packed the tesseract into a case while the raven-haired man was turning the rest of his men.
"Please don't." The enemy's voiced stopped him as he was escaping. "I still need that."
The enemy addressed himself as Loki, an Asgardian. The commander knew they were unequipped to deal with such a powerful force, so he did the only thing that he could, stall for time. Unfortunately, he couldn't fool his brilliant former agent.
"Sir, director Fury is stalling." Clint stoically stated as he approached Loki. "This place is about to blow. He means to bury us."
"He's right" Eric, who had also been turned, chipped in. "We have maybe two minutes before this thing goes critical."
"Well then." Loki stated, looking over to Clint who immediately shot Fury. The agent picked up the case holding the tesseract as they made their way out of the building before the collapse.
When Fury regained conscious it was too late, he had caught up to Loki once, before the demi god shot down his helicopter and escaped, leaving with the most powerful object on Earth.
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Dean looked around the empty field for signs of…well, anything really. The tall wheat grass swished around his legs with the breeze. At least it wasn't cold despite it being dark out and the moon provided enough light to see.
"Dean?" Sam's voice startled him from his thoughts. "Where are we?" he asked as his wide hazel eyes glanced around the empty grassland.
"Sam, are you ok?" Dean asked worriedly. His green eyes looked over his younger brother who looked a little ruffled, but other than that, looked no worse for the wear.
"I'm fine Dean, "he answered a little tiredly, "let me down."
Dean reluctantly let his brother slip down from his arms and watched as Sam's nose crinkled when his bare feet touched the grass. Dean had to hold back a smirk when he noticed the grass reached his little brother chest.
"Would it have killed them to give us shoes!" Sam complained, "Or a shirt!" he added as he scratched at his chest and arms where the abrasive plants were rubbing against his skin. Surprisingly, the grass didn't bother Dean very much.
"You will just have to deal with it princess." Dean said with a smirk. Sam let out a huff of irritation.
"Well, now what? We in the middle of nowhere, but it's not like we can even go into town with the wings on our backs!" Sam pointed out. His tattered wings snapping out as if echoing his irritation.
Dean felt himself frown and he turned his head to look back at his own blaring white wings. Sam was right, they couldn't go anywhere with people around as long as they had wings. They would either shoot him and his brother, or turn them into zoo exhibits, and neither prospect sounded pleasant to the hunter.
"Cas and the other angels didn't always have wings." Dean recalled. Sam rolled his eyes.
"I think it's pretty clear that we are different than the angels from our world Dean." He said in a patronizing tone he used whenever he thought his older brother said something stupid.
Dean let out a frustrated sigh and faced his younger brother, "Just go with me on this, ok Sam?" His little brother clenched his jaw stubbornly and looked away but didn't offer any more protest. Dean was a little surprised with how juvenile his brother, who was usually the calm and collected one, was acting. Maybe Sam didn't just regress in age, but emotion as well. Dean let out another sigh and closed his eyes, focusing on his wings. They reacted much like any of his other limbs did, and it wasn't hard to control them. He let them stretch out as far as they could go, relishing in the pleasant tingle of the stretched muscles of his wings and back. He then pictured them folding and receding into his back.
"What the hell!" Sammy's voice exclaimed in awe as he witnessed his brother's wings shrink and morph into his back until there was nothing left but smooth skin.
Dean opened his eyes when he felt Sam's warm hands on his back where his wings used to be and looked over his shoulder with a proud smirk. It was a weird sensation. Even though he could visibly see his wings were gone, he could still feel their presence underneath his skin. Not altogether unpleasant, just strange.
"Well, would ya look at that Sammy!" He exclaimed with a hoot, turning around to face his brother who had a small smile of his own, amused at his brother's enthusiasm. "Now it's your turn."
Sam nodded his head and closed his eyes in concentration, he was excited to try it as well. "Nothing's happening." He said after a few minutes in a disappointed voice.
"Focus on your wings, try to stretch them out." Dean coached.
His brother's dark wings shakily fanned out, trembling when they reached their full span. "It's hard." His little brother's voice complained, sounding strained with exertion. Dean felt a frown on his lips. It was as easy as breathing for him.
"It's ok, now as you're folding them try to visualize them receding into your back just like mine did."
Sam tried to do as his brother instructed and focused on folding his wings. It felt as though they were moving through water, or mud. He felt his wings come to rest against his back once again, but they would go no further. No matter how hard he focused, his wings would not do as he wanted. Sam felt tears of frustration burn in the corners of his eyes and cursed his adolescent emotions that seemed to be as difficult to control as his wings.
"…I can't" Sam's voice was raw with emotion. He opened his wet eyes and looked up to his older brother in despair. Dean reached forward to cup his little brother's face with both hands, using his thumb to wipe away a traitorous tear.
"It's ok Sammy, we will figure it out." Dean comforted, but internally he panicked. He would have to hide Sam somewhere when he went into town, and he hated the idea of leaving his little brother alone, especially with whatever was going on with him. Eventually Sam pulled away with a sniff, hastily rubbing at his red eyes, erasing the evidence of his tears. He was embarrassed that he so easily let his emotions get the best of him.
"We should probably look for town." Sam said a little more collected.
"Sure kiddo." Dean said as he affectionately ruffled the shorter boy's unruly hair.
When They found a sign that led to a small town named Jamestown. Dean felt himself snort at the unoriginal name. "Of course, it is." He muttered under his breath. He glanced around for a place to hide Sam and gripped his brother's slender arm and lead him over to a collection of pine trees near the entrance of town for him to hide behind.
"Sam, stay here. Don't let anyone find you. If they do or something happens, use that telathingy you did earlier." Dean instructed.
"It's telepathy Dean." Sam corrected as he rolled his eyes. A teenage habit Dean was beginning to find very irritating.
"Whatever, just. Stay. put." He said with a finger pointed at his brother's chest for emphasis.
"Fine!" Sam huffed out in exasperation. His older brother held his eyes for a minute before heading off to probably steal some cash and clothes for them. Sam felt a headache coming on in worry.
"This is going to end well." He grumbled to himself as he crouched down in the needled and waited for his brother.
Dean stealthily slipped into people's yards thanking he didn't know who that some people still hung out their laundry to dry. Unfortunately, most people brought their laundry in during the day, so it was slim pickings. He managed to find a pair of dark blue jeans with legs long enough to fit him and a red flannel shirt for himself. He snickered when he came the wardrobe of some hipster preteen, he snatched a pair of black skinny jeans and a purple grumpy cat t-shit, and he actually had to put a hand over his mouth to prevent a laugh from escaping when he pictured his brother's reaction. After locating some under things like socks and underwear, he grimaced at the thought of them being on someone else's body, he selected a house with no garage or vehicles, carefully scoping for evidence that someone was home. He didn't want to traumatize anyone after all…or get shot.
Dean tested the window of a small ranch style home, which easily lifted. Apparently, whoever lived there felt safe enough to not lock their windows. Dean made quick work of scoping the house for useful items: a duffle bag, pair of shoes for himself, a couple hundred dollars someone stashed in their dresser drawer, and a handgun with a clip and bullets.
"Jackpot!" He silently exclaimed under his breath. He swiftly went over the house one more time to cover his tracks before slipping back through the window.
When Dean arrived at a shady motel, he dressed in his pilfered outfit before checking out a room for a few days for him and Sam. The manager looked at him suspiciously, probably wondering why a teenager was buying a room on a school night, but silently handed him a key anyway.
"I don't want no trouble now, ya hear?" He stated, a warning in the southern drawl. Dean snorted when he realized the manger thought he was a delinquent.
"Will do boss." The hunter said with a smile and a wink, feeling the manager's suspicious eyes follow him through the door. He would have to be careful if that manager started snooping around. He opened the door to the room he had rented and threw the duffle bag on the bed closest to the door. He was glad that the manager hadn't questioned him getting two queens, he didn't need Sam's wings getting in his face. Looking around the room he noticed it was rather decent for being a crappy motel. "Now to grab Sam." He thought to himself.
Sam almost felt like jumping up and down for joy when he realized his older brother was returning. He paused in his jovial thoughts when he also realized that he couldn't hear or see his brother yet…so how did he know he was arriving. Sure enough his older brother appeared a few minutes later dressed in new clothes with a cocky grin on his face which quickly fell when he noticed his little brother's pale expression.
"Sammy, what's wrong?" Dean asked, a hand coming to rest on his brother's shoulder. Worried hazel eyes looked up at him.
"I knew you were coming." Sam said in a whisper. Dean almost scoffed.
"Of course I was coming back-"
"No, I mean, I could feel you arriving before you were here." Sam interrupted urgently. Dean's brows furrowed in confusion before a look of panicked realization crossed his face. Disappearing as quickly as it arrived before his little brother could see it.
"Probably doesn't mean anything." He lied. "Come on, I got us a room. Should last us a few days while a find a way to make more money." He tugged on his brother's arm to get him to follow, pausing when he felt resistance.
"Sam?" He looked back at his brother who was staring longingly at his feet.
"Did you get shoes for me too?" The same longing in his voice as was in his eyes. Dean winced guiltily when he looked down at Sam's feet that looked red and raw.
"Sorry Sammy, I only found this pair, and they won't fit you." Dean felt as though someone shot him when he saw Sam's expression fall. The older brother silently turned around and crouched on the ground, offering his brother his back.
"Dean what are you-"Sam asked incredulously.
"Shut up and get on!" Dean grouched. His little brother went silent behind him and Dean realized the little geek was probably struggling with his pride and his desire to get off his sore feet. Apparently, the temptation of relief won out as he felt his little brother's weight fall against his back and Sam's slender arms come around his neck.
"You never speak of this again." Sam warned against his neck, and Dean had to fight against the smile that threatened to surface.
"Whatever princess." Dean dismissed as he stood up while adjusting his grip on his brother.
By the time they reached their room at the shady motel, Sam was fast asleep against his brother's back, not even awaking when Dean gingerly laid him down on the bed farthest from the door. He glanced down worriedly at his little brother's face, concerned with how exhausted and pale Sam was. Sam's chest was covered in rashes from where the grass had irritated his skin and his wings were a dull black. Dean sat on the foot of the bed and frowned when he assessed the state of his little brother's feet. They were covered in cuts and blisters, some of them still seeping. They had walked a few miles to get to town, but Dean's own feet were unblemished. The older brother ran a hand through his hair in frustration. Something was wrong with Sam. He couldn't control his wings, he didn't heal, and his seemed to have his freaky powers back. Whatever Jack did to them…it didn't seem to take with Sam. Dean shifted over to the head of the bed and rested a hand against Sam's forehead, a habit formed from years of taking care of his little brother when the younger was sick. He was surprised when he realized he could feel his brother's essence. Dean's brows furrowed, maybe he could figure out exactly what was wrong with Sam. He closed his eyes and focused. He could feel the angelic presence that thrummed through his brother's body, but it was weak, like a thready pulse. It was starting to make sense to Dean. Michael was full of grace when he was used to transform Dean, whereas Lucifer was almost completely drained. Suddenly an idea popped into the hunter's head. An incredibly stupid but amazing idea.
Sam woke up feeling refreshed, better than he had in a long time even, and when he saw his brother hovering over him with a self-satisfied smile and eyes holding relief, he couldn't help the panicked suspicion that flooded he veins whenever Dean did something incredibly stupid.
"Dean, what did you do?" He asked, eyes narrowed suspiciously. Dean looked almost offended.
"What?" He asked defensively.
"…Dean."
"Yeah ok, I did something. You're welcome by the way." Dean finally relented, and Sam felt his heart skip painfully. When Dean saw his bother's face, eyes widened in fear he quickly amended.
"Don't worry. I didn't do anything harmful…I don't think."
Sam's eyes went from fearful to suspicious again.
"What's that supposed to mean?" Sam asked petulantly as he crossed his arms. Dean just smirked.
"It's better if I show you."
Dean looked around for a chair and quickly pulled it over so that he could directly sit across from Sam who was currently staring at his brother in concern. Dean just stared intently back.
"Remember how Cass borrowed grace from others when he lost his?" Dean asked.
"…Yeah?" Sam's voice going up at the end of his answer in confusion.
"Well, I kinda ran an angel diagnostic-"
"-angel WHAT?!" Sam interrupted incredulously.
"Shut up for a second Sam." When no more interruption came, he continued. "As I was saying, turns out we are more like the angels back home than we originally thought. Unfortunately, it seems as though you were transformed with depleted grace. So, I got to thinking that maybe if I gave you some of mine-" Dean let the sentence hang for Sam's inference. It was actually rather amusing to watch all of the expressions cross his little brother's face. First confusion, then realization, then anger, then back to confusion.
"…but you need an angel blade to access an angel's grace?" Sam pondered aloud. Looking even more confused.
Dean let a triumphant smirk cross his face as he reached out with his hand and turned his palm towards the ceiling. Sam couldn't withhold his quiet, "What the hell?" as a wicked looking blade suddenly materialized within Dean's upturned palm. Sam's wide eyes snapped up from the blade to meet his brother's, which looked annoyingly smug.
"Like I said, we are a lot more similar than we originally thought."
Sam looked back to the blade. It didn't look anything like an angel blade. More like a middle age's short sword. Lean and elegant.
"What about you? Are you okay, cause I don't want to get better if you're sacrificing your own health." Sam asked, looking intently into his brother's eyes to spot if he would lie. Dean let out an amused snort.
"Dude, no. One, I don't think your body could handle it if I gave you too much….it be like an overdose of angel grace. And two, I can't look out for you if I'm in the same crappy shape."
Sam let out an irritated huff before falling still.
"Sam?" Dean asked worriedly before Sam looked excitedly up.
"How did you make the blade materialize?"
Dean snorted again. Of course, his brother would be interested in that, the geek.
"It just sort of appeared when I was thinking about how the angels from our world materialized their weapons. So, just think about it I guess?" Dean ended the unhelpful statement as a question.
Sam rolled his eyes at Dean's incredibly vague answer before closing his eyes to concentrate. He did as Dean said and focused on how Cas's blade would materialize, and soon enough he felt a weight in his palm. Sam opened his eyes. A medieval dagger with a curved blade sat in his hand. He glanced back up to Dean who looked proud, which of course made Sam feel proud as well.
"Now if only I could get rid of these." Sam complained as he looked back. Surprised to find, instead of tattered wings, two sleek raven black wings that when the light reflected off, had a deep purple undertone. He secretly hoped Dean didn't notice the color scheme, lest he be teased relentlessly.
"Just try it. You might be able to now." Dean encouraged.
Sam gave a doubtful glance to his brother but tried, nonetheless. When he focused on his wings, they were a lot more responsive, and it didn't feel like they were dragging through a viscous substance this time. He pulled them close to his body, feeling them slowly shift back inside of him. He didn't even realize he closed his eyes again until they snapped back open when he heard Dean's cheerful cry. Startled by the noise his wings immediately snapped back open and Sam gave a vicious glare to his brother.
"Oops." He apologized with a sheepish grin.
Sam let out a frustrated groan and flopped back against the bed, wincing when it jarred his wings.
"Why is it so much harder for me than for you!?" Sam yelled out to the room. He felt the bed depress when his brother sat next to him.
"Hey, it's gonna take some practice, ok?" He gently encouraged. "Till then though, I don't want you leaving this room. OK?"
Sam glared at his brother, unhappy with the order. Dean only glared back until Sam shifted his eyes as he reluctantly acquiesced.
"Whatever." Sam sighed out.
"Atta boy Sammy!" Dean praised, playfully slapping his brother's knee as he stood up.
"Where are you going?" Sam asked when he noticed his brother putting on his stolen shoes to leave.
"I went out while you were sleeping, and I stopped in at the local mechanic. I managed to get a job."
Sam frowned in contemplation, "We don't have any of our fake papers here. You're telling me this guy hired a kid with no ID?"
Dean let a cocky smirk cross his face. "I said that I escaped with my little brother from an abusive home and I needed some cash. He agreed to pay me under the table."
"Unfreakinbelievable." Sam muttered, crossing his arms disapprovingly.
Dean's smile only widened, before changing to a more serious expression. "I got some food for you in the fridge, so I expect you to stay here ok? Don't open the door for anyone. I don't care if they claim to be girl scouts selling cookies." "Ok Sam?" He repeated more sternly when he didn't hear a response.
"Fine, I got it! Just go!" Sam relented as he hopped of the bed and pushed his older brother towards the door.
"Ok. I will see you later tonight then flying purple people eater!" Dean teased as he ruffled his brother's hair. Laughing out the door at his younger sibling's annoyed growl. Of course, Dean noticed his wings unique coloring. He glared accusingly back at the offending appendages when he felt them flutter in response. Sam then looked discouragingly around the room as he realized he didn't even have a laptop to do research.
"Looks like it's eight hours of crap tv for me." He complained to the empty room.