"Is everyone okay?!" Natasha cried, waving thick black smoke out of her face. After Dean swerved recklessly off the road, they had crashed into one of the gates, ending the metal barrios severely. The car itself looked to be in no damage, just the hood dented slightly.

"Sammy!" Dean yelled- Is he outside? Natasha thought, jumping as he thrust his hands inside the car, fingers groping wildly for any sign of life. Hesitantly, Natasha grabbed his hand, grunting as he tugged her out through the window- which thankfully, they had left open.

"I couldn't hear anyone else," Natasha panted as she turned around and grabbed for the door handle. Cars whizzed by on the road and she spat a curse as she saw what she swore was a camera, flashing as it passed by. Dean had an absolutely frantic look on his face- what the heck was she saying?!

"You mean to tell me that we're the only ones who made it?!" he yelled, clutching his temples. His head throbbed as he felt blood rush through his veins, Natasha trying to clear the smoke and search for the other three men. God damn it, Sam! Dean's thoughts screamed, don't you fucking die on me now! Natasha's grunts of pain bought him back to reality; she was trying to rip the door clean off its hinges, the door itself ajar at an awkward angle. Squinting, dean joined her, nearly crying out with joy when he saw it.

Sam's legs were kicking, and bent at awkward angles. Two other sets of feet accompanied his, and both the hunter and agent sighed with relief.

"D-Dean?" Sam's voice warbled, "are you and Miss Romanoff okay?"

"Yeah!" Dean called back, "how bout, uh, the Lieutenant and Captain?" Natasha smirked at him, leaning nonchalantly against the car. Amidst the creaks and groans of metal trying to tear apart, there were shouts of pain and cries of agony as Dean attempted- and somewhat succeeded- in singlehandedly dragging the three men from the wreckage, his skin slick with sweat as the sun beat down on them. A truck passed by, honking its horn as it drove by.

"Jesus, what the hell happened….?" Sam groaned as he sat up on the pavement, the cement scratching the palms of his hands. Not that that was the worst injury he sustained. Looking down, he hung his head- his jeans were damp, completely soaked through to the bone…..

"You look like shit," Natasha commented, pushing stray strands of red hair out of her face as she helped Steve and Bucky sit up, brushing them off as they gathered their wits. Dean rolled his eyes.

"You could have helped with the unloading," Dean scoffed, letting his fingers rub over the amulet around his neck. A pair of horns hung from a piece of black nylon, something Sam had given to him when they were kids. Dean let it hang, his arm falling limply to his side.

"Eh, looked like you had it covered," Natasha waved his comment away as if it were a fly buzzing annoyingly in her ear, "besides, I've got my own babies to worry about." She looked over to his brother- he looked really shitty if she as going to be completely honest. His brown hair was in a tangled disarray halo around his head, and his face, neck and arms were covered with an assortment of cuts, scrapes and bruises. The plaid shirt he wore was full of tears, one of the sleeves hanging in threads off his muscular arm. He should heal up soon, she thought, jolting to a stop when she let her eyes trail down his body. Sam caught her staring, raising an eyebrow in confusion.

"Is something wrong, Miss Romanoff?" he questioned, moving to lean back on his hands. She bit her lip, stealing a quick glance at Steve- he was now standing, inspecting the damage inflicted on the car. She let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding in, running a hand nervously through her short red hair.

"Don't move, okay?" she instructed, hiding her hands out in front of her, "just sit tight." Sam shrugged, nodding reluctantly. The look on his face told her he knew about his legs. Good, she thought with relief, that won't be a problem then….

"Bucky, calm down!"

Dean and Natasha jumped, turning to find Bucky leaning against the car, chest heaving rapidly. His hair was plastered to his face and neck, slick with sweat. Dean grimaced- the man looked absolutely exhausted, with his empty eyes and heavy bags. Cuts and bruises decorated his skin, a deep gash above his left eye, dangerously close to the corner of the eye itself.

"That has to hurt…." Dean trailed off, Bucky turning his head to mer eyes with him momentarily. Once they met eyes, Dean found himself completely frozen. Like before, they were glassy and cold, but now they just seemed tired and old, as if he was just done with everything.

And he probably was. The car crash was probably the last thin the had wanted to happen to him that day. The smoke had cleared, and Dean let out an involuntary whimper once he was able to see the real damage. Sam shook his head, licking his lips as he said, "That's gong to take forever to fix, Dean."

"You think?" Dean shot back, rubbing his eyes. Where the car had crashed into the gate the hood had been bent completely in half, hanging onto the hinges by a thread. From what he could see, everything inside- the engine, the gas, the gears- all of it was completely damaged, needing to be replaced immediately.

"What could have caused this amount of damage?" Natasha asked, the corner of her eye on Bucky as he leaned into Steve's knee, forehead connecting with the bone. Steve merely patted the man on the head, wiping sweat from his brow. Natasha shielded her eyes from the sun's glare, "Everything okay, boys?"

"Yeah, sorry," Steve apologized- more for Bucky than himself, Dean realized- "but we have a slight problem."

"And what would that be?" Natasha's heels clicked the pavement as she ambled over, crouching to get a better look at Bucky, who looked about ready to pass out, "You need something to eat or drink, sweetie," she said, placing the back of her hand on his forehead, "it's too hot." Dean shared a glance with his brother. The way they treated Bucky was so…. childish. As if it were a five year-old trapped in a grown man's body or something. Steve jumped as Bucky raised a fist, banging it loudly against the dented passenger door.

"What is he doing?" Sam asked, twisting his body to get a better look. Not being able to move his legs at the moment, he tried his best to twist his torso, pain shooting up his side as he craned his neck.

Bucky's breath came in short gasps as he opened his mouth to answer.

"My….. arm…."

"What about your arm?" Natasha asked, "I mean, it can't be as bad as Sammy- look at his legs!" Bucky shook his head, peeling his forehead off Steve's leg, thrusting his left shoulder at her.

"My….. arm…." he repeated coldly, and Dean and Sam cringed in unison, squinting against the sun as best they could.

Where his arm should have been was a stump that was cut off where the shoulder began, blood running in small rivers on his skin where it was supposed to be attached. Dean rubbed his eyes, unsure if he was hallucinating.

"Oh, shit!" Natasha's piercing shriek broke through Dean's thoughts, and he next thing he knew she was diving headfirst through the window, slithering inside like a snake through grass, "where was he sitting?!" Steve groaned, helping Bucky lean back against the car as he tried to follow. His shoulders were to broad though, the window unable to let him squeeze through.

"What happened?" Sam called from his spot, a tad mad he was unable to move.

"Um, Bucky lost his arm…." Steve said nervously, throwing an uncomfortable smile Sam's way, "it has happened before though-"

"Whoa, aha, whoa!" Dean cut him off, "you mean to say that he has a prosthetic arm?" Steve nodded. Banging erupted as Natasha was searching, groans and yells of frustration flying out the window along with a slew of curses. Dean widened his eyes- the way she was speaking, she could have probably put any pirate or sailor to shame, maybe svn truck drivers, but that was more the belching than the cursing. After a few minutes, she wriggled her way out through the window, Dean helping her hop lightly to the ground.

"Hey- what is that?" Sam asked, watching as Natasha crouched down in front of Bucky, gripping his shoulder tightly. Sun glinting brightly, she spat out another curse, tossing the item to the ground n frustration.

"B-Be…. careful with…..with that," Bucky managed to get out between clipped breathing, teeth gritted until his temples began to throb.

"I was ripped completely, Steve," the agent said shaking her head, "there's no way to get it back on unless we take him to a hospital-"

"We can't bring him there," Steve said curtly, "you know that." She nodded, momentarily forgetting the Winchesters were sitting, watching; one of them currently bleeding profusely through two broken limbs.

"The only other option is Fury," Natasha announced, gathering the object in her arms. Dean had taken a seat next to his brother, trying to bind the bones together. He remembered from seventh grade health class that if the bone wasn't set it wouldn't heal properly and you'd become deformed. Of course, Dean only paid attention in that class because the teacher was incredibly hot; ten out of ten worth banging in the janitor's closet. But it's time to forget that, he told himself, yanking on the plaid fabric he tied around his brother's leg, knowing he was going to need more soon. There was too much blood to contain. Dean looked over at Bucky- the red gook was literally pouring from his arm, Steve and Natasha frantically attempting to cut it off. He let his eyes trail to the thing propped in the cook of Natasha's arm and shivered, turning his attention back to his brother.

Whatever it was, it must be pretty important.

"Do you think it was a demon?" Sam suddenly piped up.

"What?" Dean asked. Sam pursed his lips, shrugging.

"A demon, Dean," Sam repeated, "do you think it was a demon that made us crash?" Dean shook his head. All he knew was that it happened once Bucky started freaking out about some files….

"Maybe?" Dean said with uncertainty, "I mean, it could have been an animal-"

"There was no animal in the road, idiot," Sam said flatly, glaring at Dean, "it had to be a demon."

"We can figure it out once we get to headquarters," Natasha called over to them. The brothers looked over- they had managed to stop Bucky from bleeding to death, but he looked like he may as well have been better off dead. His clothes and skin were soaked with red, hanging heavily on his muscular frame like a wet rag on a clothesline.

"How exactly are we going to get there, huh?" Dean asked, "I mean, you totaled my baby- which, by the way, took me years to fix, and from scratch!" Natasha rolled her eyes.

"Fury can replace it if you want," Natasha said, "but that isn't important right now. Right now, we have to get these two to a doctor-"

"Then hop aboard!" a voice yelled, brisk and raspy. Turning, the four of them were staring at a man in a long black trench-coat, leaning casually against a black Jeep. When did he get there….? Sam thought, Steve and Natasha rushing to help Bucky into the car. Blood trailed after him, splattering the cement as they struggled to help him. The man inclined his head towards Dean.

"You two coming or what?" he asked, rubbing his thumb absentmindedly across the black eyepatch tied around his head. After a few seconds of contemplating what had just happened(the man had, afar all, literally appeared out of nowhere), he managed to load his brother in the car, reluctantly leaving his baby, his prized possession crashed on the side of the road.