Sooo, this is just a small piece, inspired by watching an episode of NCIS where they find a cargo pod in the woods that was unearthed by a bow hunter, and then from that quote in Supernatural when Sam and Dean discuss bow hunting as kids. I know the dates and stuff won't all be right, but let's claim artistic licence, okay? :)

Sam frowned. Bow hunting? Really? He hadn't been taken on any hunts yet, and he'd just turned 9, and since his dad had found out he now knew about the supernatural, both he and Dean were being taught how to survive. This ranged from drills at 5 in the morning, to fighting, to bow hunting.

He was having fun. He had managed to shuffle up a tree and was pretending to be like a marine, like his dad was, and thought how cool it would be a sniper. He aimed his bow at nothing in particular, imagining an enemy soldier creeping past. But Sam was too quick and sneaky for him, and he mimed shooting, making the small 'peow!' noises that little kids tended to make when playing.

"Sammy?" he heard Dean call, and so he started to make his way down the tree, and had just hit the ground when a deer darted past him.

He didn't want to hurt an animal, but his dad told him he needed to learn this skill, and so he took off after it, hoping to get into a spot that would be suitable to shoot from. However, he tripped on something metallic and went sprawling across the floor. He winced at newly skinned knees and frowned when he looked down and saw the bruise already forming on his arm. He turned, not knowing what he'd tripped over.

"Sammy!" this time it was Dad calling, and he really should have answered, but he'd just brushed some leaves away and found a large metal pod.

"Awesome…" he breathed out, and found a small catch on the top. Curiosity getting the better of him, he opened it, and after some hard tugging managed to get it loose and it swung open.

He looked inside, and then shot backwards, falling on his behind and trying to scramble away.

"Sammy? What are you doing, we've been looking everywhere for…" Dean stopped as he saw the pale colour his little brother had gone. "What's wrong?"

Sam leapt up and flung himself at his brother, burying his head in Dean's chest. Dean automatically put his arms around Sam and looked over to what had disturbed his brother.

"Dad?" He yelled, and felt a sense of relief when he heard his father's footsteps sounded behind him.

"Boys, what happened?"

Dean shrugged, "I don't know. I saw Sammy trying to get away from that," he gestured with his head to the tank, "and then he saw me and…" he tailed off, the rest of the story obvious.

John looked down at his youngest with concern, "Stay with him, Dean, I'm just going to see what it is."

Dean nodded and tried to bring Sam over to a tree that had a Sam-sized stump next to it for him to sit on.

John took a look inside. Well-used to scenes like this he didn't give much of a reaction, apart from sighing and looking over at his sons, feeling sad that Sammy should have to see this, and also knowing it wouldn't be the last body his son saw. He found naval dog tags on the body in the drop-tank and knew he had to do something.

"What've we got?" Gibbs asked as they approached the scene.

"A bow-hunter was out with his kids and one of them found a drop tank that, unfortunately for him, has a mummified guy in it." Tony informed him, and nodded over to where the bow hunter was stood, his arm around a young, scared looking boy, who had a tight grip on an older kid. All three were wearing camo gear.

"If you'll excuse me for a few moments, Jethro, I think I have another patient first." Ducky told him, and walked towards the small family. The agents - after having a quick scan of the body and having nothing to do until Ducky said they could - followed.

Seeing them approaching, John asked, "Was he a marine? I couldn't see the tags too well."

"Yup," Gibbs replied, glancing at the way the man held himself. "You one too?"

"Semper Fi," he said softly, grinning, before shaking his head. "Used to be. Can't seem to get out of some of the habits though, right boys?"

The older kid smiled, "We do stuff like this every weekend."

"The bow hunting?" Gibbs confirmed, glancing down at the younger one who was still shaking. "You boys like it?" he asked.

The older one nodded, and tried to gently coax the younger into talking. "Sammy, say something. The officers need to know what happened."

The kid stared up at him, shit scared, but nodded, clutching at his brother's hand and father's jacket, "I was pretending to be a sniper," he whispered, "and when I was running, I tripped over the – the thing," with this he motioned towards the drop tank, "and I opened it."

Gibbs nodded. The poor kid. This boy looked to be only about 8, and if Kelly had seen a mummified corpse at that age… well, he didn't know what he would do to make that okay.

He knelt down so he was at eye level with him, and didn't miss the way his brother's hand became slightly more squeezed around the kid's, even more protective.

"Hi, Sammy was it?" all three of them nodded. "Hi, Sammy – I'm Agent Gibbs. You said you were pretending to be a sniper?"

The kid looked slightly surprised, but nodded, as did Gibbs, "I used to be a sniper in the marine corps."

"Really? My dad was a marine. Is it as cool as it looks in the movies?"

Gibbs smiled as he saw the kid's grip slip slightly on his brother's hand, and he let go of his father's jacket completely.

"It has its moments," he replied, evading the questions. "So is your dad teaching you bow hunting?"

Sam nodded, and replied, "We're practicing for my uncle's hunting season in a few months." It sounded well-rehearsed, but Gibbs didn't pick up on this.

"It's an important skill." Gibbs said, nodding.

"See, Sammy? I told you so!" the older boy crowed victoriously, but without sounding smug.

"Now, Sammy, this is important. Did you touch anything inside the tank?"

"No, Agent Gibbs," he whispered, somehow already knowing the agent in question didn't like being called 'sir'. "I looked inside and ran."

Gibbs nodded. "Its okay." He stood up and looked over to where his agents and ME were stood by the drop tank. "Now, do you want… I didn't catch your name, sport." He looked at the older boy.

"Dean." He supplied.

"Dean," Gibbs repeated. "Do you want Dean to come with us so you can be fingerprinted?"

"Fingerprinted?" Sam squeaked, clutching at his dad's jacket once again. "I didn't mean to open it, I just got curious, and I…"

"Hey, hey, it's okay, kid," Gibbs calmed him. "I just need them so if we find any on the tank, we know they weren't from anyone else, and so we don't need to run them in our machine to find suspects."

Sam relaxed slightly and nodded, tugging on his brother's hand, who gave a fake long-suffering grin and followed as Kate brought out a fingerprint kit.

Dean smirked slightly as the female agent – Kate, he remembered her saying, knelt to take his brother's fingerprints. If only he was a few years older, she a few younger… and if only he didn't have his little brother's leech-like grip on his hand.

"Sammy, I need my hand back soon, dude. It's going numb."

"Sorry." He whispered, and pulled his hand off, offering it to Kate when she finished with one hand.

However, as soon as his fingers were clean of ink, he slid his hand back into Dean's.

And his brother didn't argue.


"Sammy, you okay?" Sam nodded and went back to lean against his dad, feeling glad he was there.

"That'll be all we need," Gibbs told him. "And don't worry," he added. "We'll find whoever did this."

John nodded, not really bothered. What was done was done, and he was already out for revenge for one person, he sure as hell didn't need to be gunning for two things. However, he couldn't help feeling anger towards the dead man for terrifying his boy. He knew that Dean would probably be getting a small visitor in his bed for a good few nights as he bet that Sammy would be plagued by nightmares for a while.

He got Dean to vainly try and point out something (Anything) interesting in the opposite direction as they were loading the tank onto a truck as the leading agent came back over.

"We're taking him back to NCIS now," Gibbs said. "Would you like us to keep you posted?"

"No," John told him. "I don't want to tell him what happened to that guy. I think he's already going to be having a few nightmares, don't you?"

Gibbs nodded, and John was impressed that the man didn't try and apologise over something that was clearly not his fault.

Gibbs looked over at Sam and Dean, and felt a pang of sadness for the both of them. He had an idea that neither would go bow-hunting for a while now.

Bit of a crappy ending but I wasn't sure exactly how to end lol. A review would be very much appreciated :)