"So, you do anything fun today?" Dean teased as he entered their motel room, fully prepared to receive a seething reply from his brother about going back on his promise to try to get off early as Sam had to suffer the drab dullness of four walls and a t.v. with five channels. He was surprised to say the least when said little brother just turned from where he was sitting on his bed, watching some random soap opera and grunted a passive, "Yeah, it was fine", before turning back to the screen. After the near shouting match with Sam that morning he was half expecting another match as soon as he set foot through the door. Dean's eyes narrowed in suspicion.
"Something you want to tell me Sam?" The elder asked, his voice tight, and from Sam's tensing shoulders, he could definitely hear the change in tone.
"No." the younger simply replied, not turning away from the horribly pixelated screen.
Dean's eyes narrowed further, but he could hardly outright accuse his brother without any proof, so he let it go as he sighed heavily through his nose. He already worked a long day with a bitchy costumer who was convinced that he was trying to sell her more repairs than she needed. It was the reason he came home late. In all actuality, the snarky lady needed new breaks, which he tried to convince her was in the best interest of her and everyone else on the road. It was safe to say Dean was in no mood to have a verbal wrestling match with his stubborn younger brother.
"I brought us home take out." He said, effectively dropping the subject as he plunked a bag of greasy fried food on the counter.
Sam turned back to face his brother and wrinkled his nose at the smell. Obviously unhappy with the less than healthy food choices. Dean shrugged his shoulders in indifference and began pulling out a burger from the brown paper bag, enthusiastically unwrapping his food and taking a large bite, moaning inappropriately to get a reaction from Sam.
"Seriously Dean!?" His brother bit out in repulsion, and Dean grinned with stuffed cheeks in victory of grossing out said little brother before motioning him over to get his own food. The elder's grin faded a little when he noticed the younger stumble as he stood up with a sharp wince, catching himself on the footrest of the bed. Dean set his burger back down on the counter as he observed his little brother reorient himself.
"What's wrong with you?" He inquired tersely, wiping greasy fingers on his oil stained jeans. That wasn't ever coming out, no matter how many trips to the laundry it went through.
This was exactly how Sam acted when he was getting those visions from Yellow Eyes, and the resemblance unsettled him. Sam looked up pitifully through hazel eyes squinted in pain.
"Nothing Dean." He weakly responded. "Just a bad headache. I'm just going to head to bed, ok." He then slowly crawled back under the covers, still dressed in his clothes which, Dean noticed with a frown, were different from this morning.
Dean walked over to his brother and knelt by his bed, reaching his hand down to brush Sam's brown bangs back in order to feel his forehead. He was a little relieved to find there was no fever, but the fact that his brother didn't push him away concerned him. He tried that angel diagnostic thing Cas always did, but it yielded no results.
"Do you want any pain killers?" He whispered lowly, knowing how sensitive his little brother senses always got when he had his migraines.
"No Dean, I just want to sleep." The thirteen-year-old managed to mumble out as he burrowed deeper into his pillow, as if to escape the pain, before giving way to unconscious. Tuckered out from the heavy weight wrestling match going on in his brain.
Dean lingered a good long while watching over his brother before heading back over to his now cold meal, chewing worriedly as a million thoughts raced through his head as to what could be wrong with Sam. He was convinced he was keeping things from him, but he wasn't in a position where he could watch him more closely. It wasn't like he could just forgo showing up to work just so he could watch his little brother all day. Dean snorted as he pictured how well that would go over with Sam. Probably about as well as it went over for his Dad.
"Maybe his headache is why he is acting off." The elder thought to himself as he finished his burger and reached back into the bag for Sam's. Honestly though, Dean knew better.
"Hey! Hey, we got something!" One of the agents shouted over their screen standing up a little bit to get his superiors attention.
Agent Hill immediately walked over. "What have we got?" She asked, peering over his shoulder. The man turned his screen towards the woman.
"One of the winged kids."
Sure enough, on screen was the younger kid on a surveillance footage. The clip showed him wandering among the books in a library before he started clutching his head, collapsing onto the floor as his wings, now a deep black, snapped out powerfully, as if in protest to their owner's pain.
"Good work, agent." Hill recognized and went to report the news to Director Fury so he could plan the next move. The heels of her boots silently clicking away on sleek dark tiles.
"This is footage from a surveillance camera in Jamestown, Tennessee." Director Fury reported once the group all gathered back together on the bridge of the Helicarrier. "This apparently occurred a few days ago before it was picked up by our satellite. Doctor Banner, did you have any success with the samples?" He asked as he turned to the addressed with his one good eye.
"No." The doctor said matter-of-factly. "The matter, whatever it is, cannot be interacted with from anything you have on this ship. In fact, I doubt it can be interacted with by anything on this planet."
"So, what does this mean for our mission? You said they can teleport, right? Even if we get there, they can just teleport away." Rogers said as he glanced around the group, trying to ascertain their opinions.
"Not necessarily," Banner filled in while simultaneously watching the screen, "It seemed as though only the older sibling had the ability to teleport. If that is the case, then we will have an opportunity to catch the younger one when they are separated. That, of course, is assuming they separate at some point."
"And the older brother? I watched the tape. He put all our guys on the floor without even touching them. What is the plan when he comes after us?" It was Agent Romanoff this time. Her arms crossed over her ample bosom. No fear in her voice, just practicality.
"We ask him politely not to kill us." Stark added with a sarcastic grin. It was obvious from his tone that he thought it was going to go south one way or another.
"We worry about that later." Fury answered. "For now, we need to head to Jamestown, from their we will have Stark and the Captain head out for the actual collection."
Starks eyebrows went up, "Collection? That's a nice way of putting it." He bitterly mussed. Rogers also didn't look impressed.
"It doesn't sound like we are heading in with much of a plan here." The soldier stated in polite disapproval.
The director was silent for few seconds, letting the heavy weight of the silence fill the space before adding, "It's the only plan we got, and it's going to have to be enough."
Sam felt a light buzzing in the back of his head when he awoke, but he was pleased that the intense throbbing had finally vacated its unwelcome presence from his skull. He was less pleased by the sight of his older brother's haggard expression, pinched in worry, hovering over him first thing in the morning. Though, the lightening of the concern when his brother noticed his waking up, soothed something deep in his chest. It was almost amazing how old his brother could appear with a teenager's face.
"I'm fine Dean." He quickly got out before his brother could ask. He went to sit up and felt his brother's warm hands come to assist him. He huffed in annoyance but didn't bother brushing him off as he gently hauled him upright. He supposed after last night his brother earned it. Hell, he freaked himself out. Then he remembered his vision. What the hell was he supposed to tell Dean.
"Sam?" Dean asked as he felt his brother's muscles stiffen beneath his hands. He quickly went into doctor mode, pulling his now annoyed brother's lids up to check his pupils. Both, to his relief, reacted appropriately. He checked his forehead one more time and ran angel diagnostic. He held his hand there just long enough to tell that his brother was healthy, feeling the light thrum of grace beneath his palm, before Sam shoved his hand away.
"Dean!" The younger snapped, ruffled from his brother's mother henning, but Dean just sat across from him on his own bed. His face observant, ready to pick up on any detail that his little brother was lying. This is what Sam was dreading.
"You ok Sam? You had me really worried."
Sam looked down on his lap to avoid his brother's concerned eyes.
"Yeah, it was just a headache." Sam winced at how weak that sounded, even to his own ears, and when he glanced up, he could tell Dean picked up on that voice inflection as well. Concern melted into stone.
"Headache?" He implored flatly, taking a deep breath in to get ready to tear into the younger before Sam quickly interjected.
"Don't you have to be at work?" He got out, almost desperately. Sam didn't even look at the clock yet, so he was going off a guess, it felt later anyway.
Dean let all the air rush out in a frustrated sigh, dragging a weary hand down his face. "I called my boss from the motel's phone to let him know I was going to be in late today. I told him my brother was sick and I wanted to make sure you were alright before I went in. He told me that is was alright if I couldn't make it in today. Nice job changing the subject though." Dean look at Sam pointedly.
"No, Dean. I'm ok, really. My head hurt really bad yesterday, but I promise I feel fine today." Sam threw in an extra dose of his puppy eyes for good measure and he could practically feel when his brother caved, smiling internally. If puppy eyes worked in his late thirties, they had to be extra potent as a kid.
Dean knew what his brother was doing, but relented with a sigh anyway. Sam probably wasn't aware that those eyes would work on him at any age. "Actually, scratch that, he probably was aware the little shit." Dean grumbled internally.
"Fine." He bit out quietly, trying not to give into the urge to smack his brother when he noticed his little brother's expression light up hopefully. "I'm going to head out. I left you some breakfast, but you are going to have to reheat it." He stated as he stood, relishing the lack of creaking in his joints in this younger body. Guess he would have to thank Jack for that at least, even though he deserved a serious beatdown for the rest of the mess that they were in.
Dean looked down at his brother, waiting until the younger took his cue of silence to look up.
"Sam, I need you to be honest with me, ok? We are all alone here, and we have hardly any clue what's going on with our bodies. You notice anything strange, anything at all, and I want you to contact me, ok?" He stated seriously. "Ok?!" He repeated more sternly, lifting the thirteen-year-old's chin with strong fingers when his brother had looked away in subtle rebellion.
"Ok, Dean." Sam said in mock exasperation. In reality, the guilt set like a heavy weight in his stomach. His brother let go of his chin to ruffle his hair.
"Don't forget to take your medicine." Dean tossed over his shoulder before leaving.
When the door clicked behind him the weight doubled and Sam almost felt nauseous from it. The room suddenly felt too quiet and he couldn't shake the feeling that something was about to go very wrong. He admonished himself for missing his brother all of a sudden like some pathetic child who needed a comfort blanket. The buzzing became louder in the back of his head and Sam wrapped his thin arms around his knees to curl up into a little ball of misery as he allowed himself to wallow in his guilt.
Dean couldn't shake the bad taste in his mouth that had been there since he left his brother that morning. Even his boss Norman could tell something was up. His boss had kindly offered a few times to let him go home for the day, but Dean declined every time. Besides, working on cars usually got his mind off of things, and it wasn't like Sam was going to offer up any information voluntarily. He could feel the frustration building in his chest like air trapped in a sealed pressurized container, building even though it had no place to go.
"What the hell!"
The shout broke Dean out of his spiraling thoughts when he noticed all the lights in the garage were flickering and the metal of the cars were groaning as they ever so slightly began to rock side-to-side. The hunter thought it was a ghost at first until he realized that the supernatural activity ceased as soon as his tormented thoughts did. "What the hell! I thought Sam was the resident family psychic. Must be related to angel stuff." He begrudgingly thought. Trying to appear as bewildered as everyone else in order to avoid suspicion.
"W-what do you think that was?" His coworker asked nervously. Timothy, his mind helpfully supplied.
"I don't know, maybe it was a ghost." Dean offered ironically, and almost laughed at the stricken expression on Timothy's face. Eventually things settled back down enough for Dean to get back to work, but rumors swirled wildly around the workplace, and he had to try not to laugh at some of the more absurd ones. Dean laughed at the wormhole theory until he realized that something similar happened in the Winchester's world. "Man, our world was messed up." He quietly muttered to himself. He definitely couldn't hold back the snort when one of the guys said he thought it was aliens. Like how the hell did he arrive at that conclusion, until Dean realized that he was technically an alien in this world…and he caused the disturbance.
"Son of a Bitch!"
"…Uh, you ok Dean?" Timothy cautiously asked.
"Yeah…I…pinched my finger." He lied as he shook out his hand of its imagined slight. Timothy didn't look convinced, but whatever. Dean went back to work, unable to shake the feeling that he was being watched.
"Alright, so we know that the older brother works under the table for a mechanic name Dave Norman. The younger brother, Sam, has only left their motel room twice to go to the library. From our information we know that Dean will most likely be gone till five." One of the agents dutifully reported to the team.
They had arrived miles out from Jamestown a couple days ago to have a few agents go undercover to investigate the brothers before sending in the calvary. They didn't want the older brother around when the operation was to go down.
"Are we up then?" Rogers queried.
"Persuade with your words if you can, but if it comes to force-" Fury motioned for Hill to step forward with a brief case which she snaped open.
"Tranquilizers? It seems you thought of everything." Tony snarked.
"It's better than blunt force trauma." Romanoff stated amiably with a raised brow, almost daring him to respond.
"I noticed there are more than two guns. I thought only Stark and I were going." The captain questioned; brows furrowed slightly in confusion.
"I thought it would be better to have more of us go in case there are…complications." The director explained.
"The brother." The redheaded agent supplied. Nick Fury nodded his head in affirmation.
"We are hoping it doesn't come to that, but if it does, I would like to be prepared."
"Alright!" Tony clapped his hands together in false cheer. "Let's go kidnapping."
The buzzing was back every day and Dean seemed increasingly reluctant to head to work, and if Sam was honest, he was increasingly reluctant to see him leave every day. His brother had mentioned it felt like someone was watching him, but he could never spot the tail. Sam grew increasingly paranoid about his episode in the library. There was no guarantee that the librarian didn't tell anyone, or that no one else noticed. Just when he thought he worked up enough courage to tell his brother, his nerves failed him. The younger hunter internally sulked, he didn't remember being this much of a coward. He went to hell for goodness sake! Today, he was going to tell Dean today no matter what. Dean stopped at the door with a hesitant expression before steadying his resolve and shutting it behind him as he left for work. The buzzing seemed to amp up every hour his brother was gone till he felt he was practically vibrating. He knew someone was at the door before he heard the knock, and the young hunter jumped anyway. It wasn't Dean, he could tell even apart from the fact that his older brother never knocked. He tried focusing over the buzzing. "There are four people here." He muttered to himself, but he couldn't tell much more than that.
"Child services, we heard complaints from a Dave Norman that two unsupervised children live here." A woman's voice called from the other side of the door.
Dave Norman, Sam recalled that was the name of Dean's boss. It certainly seemed plausible, and he knew from experience that ignoring child services was a bad idea. He would have to tell Dean, and they would have to hoof it to the next town tonight. He slowly approached the door, wishing he had his gun as he slowly opened it to reveal a redheaded woman in a skintight bodysuit, but the most notable thing about her was that she had a gun of sorts pointed directly at him.