Author's Note: One of the very first fandoms I wrote for when I first joined this site was Leverage and after watching a bunch of episodes on Netflix, I couldn't resist writing something once more. Plus, I have been in a crossover mood. So, set in early season seven of Supernatural (after Bobby dies, but before they meet Charlie) and early season four of Leverage. Please enjoy!


"It gives me strength to have somebody to fight for; I can never fight for myself, but, for others, I can kill."

Emilie Autumn


"Well, this is . . ." The blonde, young woman glances to him and grimaces. "Unexpected."

Sam blinks a few times, trying to clear the fog from his mind. He lets his eyes drift around to the room—basement?—and to the girl beside him. He moves his left hand, only for a metal clang to resound in his ear. His gaze darts down and he can see that he is handcuffed to the young woman.

"What?" He breathes and that's when he sees the blood.

So much crimson blood.

"Look at you, Sammy." Lucifer chirps. "Haven't even met the girl and you've already gotten her killed." The Devil claps him on the back. "Congrats."

"It's okay." The blonde says softly, seeing his widened gaze. Her other hand comes to shakily rest upon his. "We're going to get out of here, Sam."

He jerks away immediately, but the handcuffs don't let him go very far.

"How do you know my name?" He snaps. "Who are you?"

"I'm Parker." She informs him, her voice strained and he wonders how she's still even talking at all with all the blood on the floor. "I'm here to get you out."

"Out?" He echoes, brows furrowing. He can't even recall where he is, let alone the reason why he would need to get out. His memory is hazy and every time he tries to reach for a memory, it vanishes like the morning mist.

"Sam." She says sharper as she forces herself to sit up, wincing. "Listen to me, Dean sent me—"

Dean.

He'd forgotten about Dean. How could he do that?

"Where is Dean?" He shouts, worry coursing through him. He doesn't know how he got here with Parker, but if Dean isn't here, then something is wrong. He and his brother were always together—especially on jobs; wait, was this a job?—and now that he's gone, Sam can't help but panic.

"He's probably dead." Lucifer states, trying to be helpful.

"He's with my team." Parker answers with a wince as she lifts up the blood soaked rag from her shoulder. She grimaces and Sam can immediately tell she's been shot, and the way the wound puckers an angry red, he deduces the bullet must still be there. "Sam, listen, we need to get out of here before the guards come back." She rises to stand, shaking. With a quick flick of her wrists, the handcuffs clatter down to the ground.

"How did you—?"

"I'm a thief." She smiles proudly.

"Wait, then what are you doing here?" Sam runs a hand through his hair. "Where are we even?"

"Smooth, Sammy." Lucifer smirks, leaning against the wall, hands folded across his chest. "You sure are making the best impression, aren't you?"

"Shut up." Sam growls and immediately, Parker is there, hands on his shoulders, eyes locked on to his.

"Sam, look at me." He does, gaze unsteady. "I need you to trust me. Can you do that?" He's not sure what it is about her—she's pale and looks about ready to face plant any second—but he nods his head slowly.

"Yeah." He whispers.

"Then, let's get out of here, okay?" She grins.

He just nods his head.


48 Hours Earlier

Sam really misses the Impala.

As they drive over the concrete road, he winces as their current car goes over a pothole, jarring him. The seats are stiff and uncomfortable and he feels cramped in the shotgun seat, as the car isn't as spacious at their beloved Impala.

"Things could be worse though," Lucifer points out from the back seat, smirking devilishly. "I mean, Bobby could be—oh wait, he is dead."

Sam winces at the mention of his surrogate father's name. They haven't really had a chance to just stop and grieve yet. Dean was driven to kill Dick Roman and Sam couldn't really allow himself to give into the overwhelming sadness. If he did, Lucifer would have a field day. Besides, he had to be strong for Dean. Up until now, his older brother had been carrying all the weight over the broken wall and the hallucinations. Sam had to take some of it back; had to help his brother, somehow, someway.

"Sammy, Sammy, Sammy." Lucifer chides, sighing dramatically. "He thinks you're bat-shit crazy! There's no way he's going to let you—"

"You okay?" Dean's voice sounds like a growl all the time now, no matter what context the situation may be. His breath still has a hint of whisky from the drinking binge he went on last night. He's falling apart at the seams and Sam seems to have no way to stop it.

How could he be so powerless?

"Sam." Dean barks, much like John used to whenever he didn't get a response.

"Oh, Dean's turning into Daddy dearest." Lucifer grins. "Now, that's pretty interesting, isn't it?"

"I'm fine." The youngest Winchester replies softly, glaring at the Devil in the rear view mirror.

Dean doesn't say anything, just continues to white knuckle the steering wheel.

They reach the corporation easily. They pull into the visitor's lot and as his brother kills the engine, Sam wonders what the plan is. They can't just waltz into the building—Dick would see them from a mile off with all the cameras—but Dean doesn't seem inclined to elaborate on anything so the younger brother just sits.

"Wow, you two are really great conversationalists, aren't you?" The Devil sighs, leaning back into the seat. "So, now what?"

"Dean?"

"What?" His tone makes it sound harsher than Sam thinks he intends it to be.

"What are we doing here?"

When Dean had told him to get into the car, he did so without question. Mostly, because Lucifer made it hard for him to think about anything else, but also because of the haunted gaze his brother met his eyes with. Such devastation, such despair—Sam couldn't have refused him then.

"I don't know." His grip on the steering wheel increases. "I just want to kill that bastard with my own two hands—"

"Oh, scary!" Lucifer shouts.

"—but I can't!" He slams the steering wheel. "He killed Bobby and I can't do anything about it."

"Dean, I . . ." He hesitates, unsure of what to say to make it better, to make this gaping hole in their hearts go away, so instead, he places his hand on his brother's shoulder and the two sit there in silence.

"Let's go—"

"Excuse me." A man stands at their driver's side window. He smiles somewhat as he gestures to the rolled down window. "I couldn't help but overhear."

Dean stiffens, hand slowly moving towards the glove compartment where they keep their handguns.

"Nate," A British voice interjects softly and a beautiful woman saunters over. Her dark brown hair is piled up into a firm bun and she's dressed in a business suit. "What are you doing?"

"You two want to bring Dick Roman down?" The man—Nate—asks.

"Look, we don't even know you—" Dean mutters, gaze downcast.

"I'm Nate Ford." He sticks his hand through the car to offer it to shake. "I provide leverage."

"Leverage?" Lucifer echoes. "What does that mean?"

"Leverage?" Sam repeats and Sophie's eyes lock onto his. They scan him and then seem to pick up on his distress somewhat. She places a careful hand on Nate's shoulder, whispering something into his ear that causes him to glance at Sam as well.

"Look, Dick Roman has ruined a lot of people's lives financially," Nate starts, leaning on the open window now. "And while I always thought he may have hurt people physically, this is the first time I've heard it confirmed." He smiles lazily. "So, I'll ask you again, do you two want to bring Dick Roman down?"

"Down?" Dean questions. "Look, you don't understand who Dick Roman is—"

"He's the CEO of a ruthless company dealing in some shady business." Nate interjects. "My team and I have taken down plenty of companies like his before." He meets Dean's gaze. "But, you two have a very personal stake in it." He glances at the glove compartment. "We both know that you won't get two steps into that building before security gets you, am I right?"

"Mr. Ford—" Sam begins.

"My team and I are the best there is." He informs them. Then, straightening up, he pulls out a business card. "If you want our help, give me a call."

"We don't have any money." Sam blurts out and Nate grins.

"We operate on an alternate revenue stream." With a wink, he backs away with Sophie, the two of them seemingly vanishing into the parking lot.

"Well, that was weird." Dean mutters, turning the card over in his hands.

"Yeah." Sam mumbles.

There's silence for a few moments.

"But if they could help . . ." Dean muses.

"Dick Roman isn't a human—" The youngest Winchester points out.

"It doesn't matter." His brother interjects. "They take away his company, his money and all the humans working for him and then he'll be vulnerable."

"It's easier than whatever plan you were thinking of earlier." Sam replies.

"Okay, then." Dean nods his head, mood seemingly lightening. "Tomorrow, let's give them a call."

And for the first time since Bobby died, Sam feels hope.


Author's Note: Next chapter, meeting the team and the con! Please review if you have a moment. Thanks!