#micaelawrites

[winchesterbrotherstan]

Supernatural- Skin (1.06)

Pairing: N/A, Olive Winchester (OC)

Summary: The siblings head back to Stanford, disaster strikes, and they end up in a nasty sewer like rats

Warnings: cursing, killing, general nastiness, etc

Word Count: 5752

“Alright, I figure we’d hit Tucumcari by lunch, then head south, hit Bisbee by midnight.” Dean propped an arm around the back of the seat.

Sam didn’t answer, and I looked from Dean to him. He was on his PalmPilot.

“Hey, De. Sammy wears girly underwear.” I snickered.

“I’m listening, just busy.” Sam elbowed me.

“Busy doing what?” Dean asked as he got out of the car and went around to the gas tank.

“Reading emails.” Sam didn’t look up.

I popped my head out the window, and I looked at Dean with a tilted head.

“Emails from who?”

“From my friends at Stanford.” Sam replied.

“You’re kidding. You still keep in touch with your college buddies?” Dean scoffed.

“Why not?” Sam furrowed his eyebrows.

“Well, what exactly do you tell ‘em? You know, about where you’ve been, what you’ve been doin’?”

Sam shrugged. “I tell ‘em I’m on a road trip with Olive and our big brother. Tell them I needed some time off after Jess.”

“Oh. So you lie to them.” Dean shrugged half heartedly. He had pulled something in his shoulder during the Mary hunt, and it was still hurting him.

“No. I just don’t… tell them everything.

Dean scowled. “Yeah, that’s called lying. I mean, hey, man. I get it, tellin’ the truth it far worse.”

“So, what am I supposed to do, just cut everybody out of my life?”

Dean shrugged in response.

“You’re serious?”

“Look, it sucks, but in a job like this, you can’t get close to people, period.” Dean said.

“You’re kind of anti-social, you know that?” Sam scowled.

I laughed, and he looked at me. “You are too, Ollie.”

I pouted and Dean mumbled a whatever.

“God…”

“What?” I perked back up.

“It’s this email from this girl, Rebecca Warren, one of those friends of mine.”

“Becca?” I asked. I had met plenty of Sam and Jess’s friends when I stayed with them.

“Is she hot?” Dean asked, and Sam ignored him, looking back to the email.

“I went to school with her, and her brother, Zack. She says Zack’s been charged with murder. He’s been arrested for killing his girlfriend. Rebecca says he didn’t do it, but it sounds like the cops have a pretty good case.”

I winced. I knew Zack too, and he was nice.

“Dude, what kind of people are you hangin’ out with? You bring those people around Olive?” Dean scowled again as he got back in the car.

“No, man, I know Zack. He’s no killer.” Sam shook his head.

“Well, maybe you know Zack as well as he knows you.” Dean grinned.

Sam rolled his eyes. “They’re in St. Louis. We’re going.”

Dean laughed. “Look, sorry about your buddy, okay? But this does not sound like our kind of problem.

“It is our problem. They’re my friends.”

“St. Louis is four hundred miles behind us, Sam.” Dean rolled his eyes.

Sam made his puppy eyes, and Dean looked to me for help.

“Ollie, tell him. We’ve been driving for two days.”

I sighed. I hated to be against Dean, but Sam was right. Something sounded off. Zack wouldn’t have murdered his own girlfriend. He was a kind person. I looked at Dean and pouted, giving him my own puppy eyes. Dean rolled his eyes and pulled out of the gas station.

                                                         ***

“Oh my God, Sam!” Becca shouted once the door was open.

“Well, if it isn’t little Becky.” Sam grinned.

Becca laughed. “You know what you can do with that little Becky crap.”

They hugged, and Dean pulled me into his side.

“I got your email.” Sam sighed.

“I didn’t think you would come here.” She shook her head. “Oh my god, hi Olive! You’re so big!”

“Hi.” I waved.

“Dean. Older brother.” Dean stuck his hand out.

She looked him up and down and then smiled. “Hi.”

“Hi.” Dean nodded.

“We’re here to help. Whatever we can do.” I spoke up.

“Come in.” She stepped back into the house, opening the door further.

We walked in, and Dean was last, shutting the door behind us.

“Nice place.”

Becca laughed. “It’s my parents’. I was just crashing here for the long weekend when everything happened. I decided to take the semester off. I’m gonna stay until Zack’s free.

“Where are your folks?” Sam asked, eyebrows furrowed.

“They live in Paris for half the year, so they’re on their way home now for the trial. Do you guys want a beer or anything? Maybe a soda for the underaged kid?”

I laughed. “No, thanks.”

“So, tell us what happened?” Sam asked as we stopped in the kitchen, sitting around the table.

“Well, uh, Zack came home, and he found Emily tied to a chair. She was beaten up, and bloody, and she wasn’t breathing.” She stumbled on her words, beginning to cry. “So, he called 911, and the police… they showed up, and they arrested him. But, the thing is, the only way that Zack could’ve killed Emily is if he was in two places at the same time. The police… they have a video. It’s from the security tape from across the street. And it shows Zack coming home at 10:30. Now, Emily was killed just after that, but I swear, he was here with me, having a few beers until at least after midnight.”

“You know, maybe we could see the crime scene. Zack’s house.” Sam shrugged.

“We could.” Dean agreed.

“Why? I mean, what could you do?” Becca asked.

“Well, me, not much. But Dean’s a cop.” Sam grinned.

Dean laughed, and I smiled. “Detective, actually.” I added.

“Really? Where?”

“Bisbee, Arizona. But I’m off-duty now.” Dean smiled.

“You guys, it’s so nice to offer, but I just… I dunno.”

“Bec, look, I know Zack didn’t do this. Now, we have to find a way to prove that he’s innocent.” Sam insisted.

Becca looked around, then nodded. “Okay. I’m gonna go get the keys.”

Dean waited until she disappeared down the hall, then turned to Sam was a glare. “Oh, yeah, man. You’re a real straight shooter with your friends.”

“Look, Zack and Becky need our help.” Sam defended himself.

“I just don’t think this is our kind of problem.” Dean shrugged.

“Two places at once? We’ve looked into less.” Sam made the puppy eyes.

Dean sighed, knowing he was defeated.

                                                        ***

“You sure this is okay?” Becca asked Dean.

“Yeah.” He nodded. “I am an officer of the law.” Dean walked into the house first.

Sam and I followed. The walls were smeared with blood, and it smelled awful. There was furniture broken, also bloody.

“Bec, you wanna wait outside?” Sam asked.

“No. I wanna help.” She ducked under the police tape and left the porch, coming into the house.

“Tell us what else the police said.” I asked.

“Well, there’s no sign of a break in. They say that Emily let her attacker in. The lawyers, they’re already talking about plea bargain.” She looked around the room and began to cry.

“Look, Bec. If Zack didn’t do this, it means someone else did. Any idea who?”

Becca shook her head, but then lit up, remembering something. “Uh, there was a robbery, about a week before. Somebody broke in and stole some of Zack’s clothes. They didn’t think it was anything related. I mean, we’re not that far from downtown. Sometimes people get robbed.”

Dean turned his attention to a barking dog, and Becca came up behind him.

“You know, that used to be the sweetest dog.”

“What happened?” I asked.

“He just changed.”

“Do you remember when?” I asked again.

“I guess around the time of the murder.” She shrugged.

Dean and I looked at each other, and he started toward Sam.

“So, the neighbor’s dog went psycho right around the time Zack’s girlfriend was killed.”

“Animals can have a sharp sense of the paranormal.” Sam shrugged.

“Yeah, maybe Fido saw somethin’.”

“So, you think maybe this is our kind of problem?”

Dean shook his head. “No. Probably not. But we should look at the security tape, you know, just to make sure.”

“Yeah.” Sam sighed.

“So, the tape. The security footage, you think maybe your lawyers could get their hands on it, ‘cause I just don’t have that kind of jurisdiction.” Dean turned to Becca.

She grinned. I’ve already got it. I didn’t wanna say something in front of the cop.” Dean laughed as she kept going. “I stole it off the lawyer’s desk. I just had to see it for myself.”

                                                        ***

“Here he comes.” Becca pointed.

“22:04. That’s just after ten.” I noticed, looking to Dean.

He was sitting next to me, on the floor. Sam and Becca were on the couch, and the laptop in front of us was playing the video tape Becca had taken.

“You said the time of death was about 10:30.” Dean looked over his shoulder at Becca.

She nodded. “Our lawyers hired some kind of video expert. He says the tape’s authentic. It wasn’t tampered with.”

I looked to Sam, who seemed to notice something on the tape.

“Hey, Bec, can we take those beers now?”

“Oh, sure.” She got up.

“Hey.” Sam called, and she turned around. “Maybe some sandwiches too?” He smiled hopefully.

“What do you think this is, Hooters?” She rolled her eyes with a smile.

“I wish.” Dean mumbled.

I moved to sit next to Sam. “What is it, Sams?” 

“Check this out.” He rewound it, and slowed it down.

Zack looked straight at the camera, and his eyes glinted silver. Sam paused it, and I gasped.

“Hey, maybe it’s just a camera flare.”

I shook my head. “That’s not like any camera flare I’ve ever seen.”

“You know, a lot of cultures believe that a photograph can catch a glimpse of the soul.” Sam looked to Dean.

“Right.” He rolled his eyes.

“Remember that dog that was freaking out? Maybe he saw this thing.”

Sam nodded. “Maybe this is some kind of dark double of Zack’s, something that looks like him but isn’t him.”

I perked up. “Like a Doppelganger.”

“Yeah! It’d sure explain how he was two places at once.” Sam’s eyes went wider and he smiled.

                                                        ***

“Alright, so what are we doin’ here at 5:30 in the morning?” Dean yawned.

“I realized something. The videotape shows the killer going in, but not coming out.” Sam stumbled out of the car.

“So, he came out the back door?” Dean got out and leaned against Baby’s hood.

“Right. So, there should be a trail to follow. A trail the police would never pursue.” Sam explained.

“Cause they think the killer never left. And they caught your friend Zack inside. I still don’t know what we’re doin’ here at 5:30 in the morning.” Dean emphasized, but Sam ignored him.

“Blood.” He noted, staring at a telephone pole. “Somebody came this way.”

“Yeah, but the trail ends. I don’t see anything over here.” Dean announced as we checked out the alleyway.

An ambulance zoomed past, sirens wailing. Dean and I looked at each other, then at Sam.

                                                        ***

We stood in front of the house, watching as an Asian man was handcuffed and crammed into a police car. I hugged Dean’s arm.

“What do you think happened?” I asked him.

“He tried to kill his wife.” A woman turned around. “Tied her up and beat her.”

Sam arched an eyebrow. “Really?”

She nodded. “I used to see him going to work in the morning. He’d wave, say hello. He seemed like such a nice guy.”

The car drove off, the man inside looking like he was going to be sick. The boys and I looked at each other.

                                                        ***

I looked inside the other garbage can and found nothing. I dropped the lid back on and snorted, trying to get the rotting smell out of my nose.

“Hey.” Dean called.

We turned around. “Remember when I said this wasn’t our kind of problem?”

“Yeah.” Sam nodded.

“Definitely our kind of problem.” Dean sighed.

“What’d you find out?” I asked.

“Well, I just talked to the patrolman who was first on the scene, heard this guy, Alex’s story. Apparently the dude was driving home from a business trip when his wife was attacked.”

“So he was in two places at once.”

Dean nodded and continued.

“So he sees himself in the house, police think he’s a nutjob.”

“Two dark doubles attacking loved ones in exactly the same way.” Sam remarked.

“Could be the same thing doing it, too.” Dean suggested.

“Shapeshifter. Something that can make itself look like anyone.”

Dean nodded. “Every culture in the world has a shapeshifter lore. You know, legends of creatures who can transform themselves into animals or other men.”

“Right, skinwalkers, werewolves.” Sam sighed.

“We’ve got two attacks within blocks of each other. I’m guessin’ we’ve got a shapeshifter prowlin’ the neighborhood.” Dean sighed, wrapping an arm around my shoulders as he looked around.

“Let me ask you this- in all this shapeshifter lore, can any of them fly?” Sam asked.

“Not that I know of.”

“Olive and I picked up a trail here. Someone ran out the back of this building and headed off this way.” Sam pointed.

“Just like your friend’s house.” Dean noted.

I nodded. “Yeah. And, just like at Zack’s house, the trail suddenly ends. I mean, whatever it is just disappeared.”

Dean thought for a minute. “Well, there’s another way to go. Down.”

We looked down at our feet and saw a manhole cover, slightly ajar. I sighed.

“Do we have to?”

“Yes, bug, we have to.”

“If the smell doesn’t come out you two are buying me a new flannel.” I grumbled.

                                                        ***

“I bet this runs right by Zack’s house, too. The shapeshifter could be using the sewer system to get around.” Sam was first in line, shining the flashlight ahead of us.

“I think you’re right. Look at this.” He pointed to something and bent down.

It was a pile of blood and skin. I groaned, feeling like I was going to throw up. I gagged, and Dean stood up, pushing me aside.

“You’re fine. Don’t look.”

He bent back down, and I shook my head in disgust as he pulled out his pocket knife and held up a strip of skin. It had hair stuck to it. 

“Is this from his victims?” Sam was confused.

“Ya know, this is really fucking gross, but-”

“What if the shapeshifter sheds?”

I nodded as Dean completed my thoughts.

“That is fucking gross.” Sam wrinkled his nose.

                                                        ***

“Well, one thing I learned from Dad, is that no matter what kind of shapeshifter it is, there’s one sure way to kill it.” Dean leaned against the car.

“Silver bullet to the heart.” I nodded.

Dean smiled proudly, ruffling my hair.

“That’s right, sweetpea.”

Sam’s phone began to ring, and he picked it up without looking. “This is Sam.”

A pause. “We’re near Zack’s, we’re just checkin’ some things out.” Another pause. “What are you talking about?” Another. “Why would you do that?” His face paled. “We’re trying to help.” He sighed. “Bec, I’m sorry, but-”

Sam sighed, looking down as he pocketed his phone.

“I hate to say it, Sam, but that’s exactly what I’m talking about. You lie to your friend because if they knew the real you, they’d be freaked. It’s just… it’d be easier if-”

“If I was like you.” Sam’s eyes narrowed at him.

“Hey, man. Like it or not, we are not like other people. But I’ll tell you one thing. This whole gig?” Dean raised an eyebrow and held up a gun. “It ain’t without perks.”

Sam only sighed and tucked the gun into the back of his waistband. I took the other from Dean’s hold, and he loaded the last one before tucking it into his jacket.

                                                        ***

“I think we’re close to its lair.” Dean’s face scrunched up.

Sam didn’t look back. “Why do you say that?”

I grimaced, shining my flashlight as I spoke. “Because there’s another puke-inducing pile next to your face.”

“Oh, God!” Sam exclaimed as he turned, eye level with the pile of bloody, hairy skin on the pipe next to him.

“Looks like it’s lived here for a while.” Dean shone his flashlight into the corner, where there was a pile of clothes.

“Who knows how many murders the fucker’s gotten away with?” I scoffed.

“Dean!” Sam shouted, tugging me into his side.

I turned to see the shapeshifter, still in the form of Alex, the guy from earlier. Dean got sucker punched in the face, and Sam shot after the shifter as it ran. I bent down, pulling Dean to his feet.

“Sam, go get the son of a bitch!” Dean hissed.

We followed after it, up the ladder and out the manhole, into the street. The boys and I looked around. I groaned. The sudden sprints and tugging myself up the ladder had brought back the old pain in my ankle from the Wendigo hunt.

“Alright, let’s split up. Olive, up.” Sam nodded, pulling me onto his back.

“Meet you around the other side.” Dean pressed a quick kiss to my cheek before walking off in the other direction.

Sam had his gun hidden inside his jacket, and I had mine tucked between my front and Sam’s back. We found nobody on the street that could’ve been the shifter, and nothing to indicate where he had gone. We waited on the street corner where we had split apart from Dean. I sighed from my perch on Sam’s back.

“Hey? Anything?” Dean’s voice came from behind.

“No.” I shook my head and sighed. “He’s gone.”

“Alright, let’s get back to the car.” Dean nodded.

Sam and I crossed the street, but a car cut Dean off. He caught up after, and we reached Baby. Sam put me down on the hood, and I winced.

“You alright?” Dean asked.

I only nodded. “You think he found another way underground?”

Dean nodded. “Yeah, probably. You got the keys?”

I froze. Dean never gave me the keys. Why would he ask if I had them? I looked up at him, and under the light of the lamppost, saw that his eyes weren’t like they normally were. The pattern in them was wrong, looking almost like the diamonds of a snake as opposed to the waves of green that were his. I smiled.

“Sam’s got them.”

“Hey, didn’t Dad once face a shapeshifter in San Antonio?” I caught Sam’s eye and gave him a face of panic.

“Oh, that was Austin.” The shifter cut on. “It turned out not to be a shapeshifter, it was a thought form. A psychic projection, remember?”

Sam caught my glance and nodded, gesturing to his gun. “Oh right. Here ya go.” He tossed the shifter the keys.

He opened the trunk and looked at the weaponry. He laughed, eyes growing wide.

“Don’t move!” Sam shouted, and we both pointed out guns at him.

“What did you do with him?” I growled.

“Guys, chill. It’s me, alright?” The shifter looked at me.

“No, I don’t think so.” Sam hissed.

“You’re not him. Where the fuck is our brother?”

“You’re about to shoot him. Sam, Olive, calm down.”

“You caught those keys with your left. Your shoulder was hurt.” Sam accused.

The shifter scoffed. “Yeah, it’s better. What do you want me to do, cry?”

“You’re not our brother.” Sam shook his head.

“Why don’t you pull the trigger, then? Hm? ‘Cause you’re not sure. Guys, you know me.” The shifter put a hand up, a crowbar glinting by his side.

“Don’t.” Sam growled.

I hissed from my perch on the hood. I could kill him, because I knew it wasn’t Dean. No way on fucking earth was this Dean. But if I killed him, how would we find where he stashed the real Dean?

The shifter hit Sam with the crowbar, then hit him again. I screamed for him, and the shifter moved toward me, hitting my arm. I screamed, and his hand clapped over my mouth. He looked like Dean, but he smelled like death. I dug my teeth into his skin, and a chunk easily slid off. I gagged as it slipped into my mouth.

“You fucking bitch!”

I bit down harder, shaken to the core by Dean’s loving voice cursing at me with malice. I felt metal against my head and I was out like a light.

                                                        ***

“Where is he?” I heard Sam.

I tried to move, but I couldn’t. I opened my eyes wearily to see my head in Sam’s lap. He was tied to a wood beam, neck and wrists bound. The shifter pranced over and backhanded him. Sam groaned, and I looked back up to him.

“Where’s Dean?” I coughed out.

“I wouldn’t worry about him, princess. I’d worry about you.” The shifter snarled.

“Where is he?” Sam asked again.

“You don’t really wanna know.” The shifter chuckled. “I swear, the more I learn about you and your family… I thought I came from a bad background.

Sam couldn’t move his head, but I knew he was trying to look down at me.

“What do you mean, learn?” We asked in unison.

The shifter stopped pacing, he grabbed his head and hissed, pained. The shifter straightened, then squatted in front of us.

“He’s sure got issues with you. You got to go to college. He had to stay home. I mean, I had to stay home. With Dad. With a child.” He pointed to me. “You don’t think I had dreams of my own? You think I wanted to be a father? You think I wanted to raise a kid? No. But Olive needed me. Dad needed me. Where the hell were you? And you.” He pointed to me. “You stupid little bitch. Just can’t live a day without big brother, now, can you? Always gotta be by his side, up his ass. Such a pain. Can’t have a minute alone without you stuck by my side, clawing and begging and whining like a pathetic, fucking, little, lost puppy.” He snarled, and by the passion of his pain, I was almost convinced it was Dean.

“Where’s my brother?” I raised my voice.

The shifter leaned into my face, the wrong eyes glinting in the dim lighting.

“Oh sweetpea, I am your brother. See, deep down, I’m just jealous of Sammy here. He’s got friends. He could have a life. Me? I know I’m a freak. And sooner or later, everybody’s gonna leave me.” He backed away.

Sam squirmed. “What are you talking about?”

“You left. Hell, I did everything Dad asked me to, and he ditched me, too. No explanation, nothing, just poof. Left me with your sorry ass. Left me with a goddamn kid.” It was another snarl. “But, still, this life? It’s not without its perks.” A little laugh. “I meet the nicest people. Like little Becky. You know, Dean would bang her if he had the chance. Let’s see what happens.” He smiled, and threw a sheet over us. 

We waited until his footsteps disappeared, and then I let out a frustrated groan.

“God fucking damnit. Dean!” I shouted, biting at the sheet and ripping it off of us.

“That better be you, Ollie, and not that freak of nature.” I heard Dean’s growl, and my chest swelled with joy.

“Yeah, De, it’s us!” Sam called out with a laugh.

“Dean, he went to Becca’s, looking like you.” I called.

“Well, he’s not stupid. He picked the handsome one.” Sam’s face drew back and I laughed, sitting up. 

My wrists were tied to Sam’s ankles, but luckily were behind my back. Sam was working at the ropes around his hands, and I couldn’t see Dean, but I knew he was too.

“Yeah, that’s the thing. He didn’t just look like you, he was you. Or he was becoming you.” Sam sighed.

I wormed my wrists free of the rope.

“What do you mean?” Dean asked as I turned to untie Sam.

“I don’t know, it was like he was downloading your thoughts and memories.” I grunted.

“You mean, like the Vulcan mind meld?” Dean asked, his voice echoing across pipes.

“Yeah, something like that. I mean, maybe that’s why he doesn’t just kill us.” Sam hissed as I got his neck free.

“Maybe he needs to keep us alive. Psychic connection.” Dean tapped his forehead, and untangled the ropes from Sam’s ankles.

“Hands.” Sam pleaded.

Dean took over and untied his hands while I looked his face over, sighing at the cut on his cheekbone and the bruise forming above his eyebrow.

“Come on, we gotta go. He’s probably at Becca’s already.” Sam grunted, shuffling to his feet.

                                                        ***

“Come on, we gotta find a phone, call the police.” Sam pulled me out through the window and onto the street.

“Whoa!” Dean was left stranded, hanging half out the window.

“Hey, no!” I grabbed Sam’s wrist. “You’ll put an APB out on Dean.”

Sam shrugged. “Sorry.”

“Alright, come on.” Dean grabbed my hand and pulled me across the street.

We made it across the street, unsuspected. There was a TV in the store window ahead of us, a news report blaring red.

“An anonymous tip led police to a home in the Central West End, where a S.W.A.T team discovered a local woman bound and gagged. Her attacker, a white male, approximately twenty-four to thirty years of age, was discovered hiding in her home.”

A bad sketch of Dean followed, nose all wrong and eyes not wide enough.

“Man! That’s not even a good picture.” Dean groaned.

Sam hit his arm as we looked around, making sure we weren’t attracting attention.

“It’s good enough, Dean.” I scowled, grabbing him by the wrist and following Sam as he walked off into an alley.

“Man.” Dean grumbled again.

Dean stepped into a puddle and groaned. I looked down to see him barefoot, and I laughed. He glared at me.

“Aw, come on, De. They said attempted murder. At least we know-”

“That I didn’t kill her.” Dean sighed.

“We’ll check with Becca in the morning, see if she’s all right.” Sam nodded.

“Alright, but first I wanna find that handsome devil and kick the holy crap out of him.”

Sam stopped walking, exasperated. “We have no weapons. No silver bullets.

”Sams, the guy’s walkin’ around with Dean’s face, and he cursed me out.” I hit his arm.

“It’s a little personal, I wanna find him.”

Sam gave in. “Okay. Where do we look?

“Well, we could start with the sewers.”

“Dean. Again, we have no weapons. He stole our guns, we need more.”

“The car.”

Dean’s nostrils flared in disgust. “I’m betting he drove over to Becca’s.”

Sam nodded. “The news said he fled on foot. I bet it’s still parked there.”

Dean pouted. “The thought of him driving my car.”

“Alright, come on.” Sam pulled us along.

“It’s killing me.” He whined.

“Let’s just go, De.” I held a hand out, and he took it.

We walked in silence, until Sam perked up. “How’d you know it wasn’t Dean?” He asked over his shoulder. “I mean, I saw your face, and then the arm proved us right, but… how’d you know?” He stopped walking.

I shrugged. “Well, one, he asked if I had the keys. De never gives me the keys. And two, his eyes were all wrong.”

“His eyes?” Dean echoed.

I nodded, now sandwiched between Sam and Dean. “They just weren’t right. Didn’t look like your eyes.”

Sam hummed, impressed. Dean grinned, ruffling my hair. “That’s my girl.”

                                                        ***

“Oh, there she is! Finally, something went right tonight!” Dean sighed, relieved at the sight of the car.

A police car rolled up, parking right next to Baby.

“Son of a bitch.”

“Fuck.” I tightened my grip on his hand.

Sam turned around. “Oh shit.”

There was another car a few yards back. Dean grabbed me and pushed me ahead of him. “This way, this way. Let’s go.” He pointed ahead, to a fence.

“You two go. I’ll hold ‘em off.” Sam boosted me onto the fence.

“What?” I squirmed, balancing on the wood.

“Sam, they’ll catch you.” Dean’s eyes went wide.

”Look, they can’t hold me. Just go, keep out of sight. Meet me at Becca’s.” Sam reassured.

I hopped over the fence, and Dean began after me.

“Dean! Olive! Stay out of those sewers.” Sam called.

Dean looked at me and rolled his eyes, landing on his feet next to me.

“I mean it!” Sam thumped the wood and Dean rolled his eyes again, grabbing me by the hand.

“Yeah, yeah!” He tugged me along.

I heard a police officer yell at Sam, and I bit my lip with a wince. Dean pulled me to follow as we ran.

                                                        ***

“We’re sorry, Sam. But you know us. We just can’t wait.” Dean mumbled as we pulled the spare guns from the trunk.

I took the last two and tucked them into my pants, shutting the trunk. I slid the silver knife into my boot, clenching my jaw.

“Ready, baby?”

I nodded. “Ready as I’ll ever be, De.”

He kissed the top of my head. “Let’s go kick some ass.”

                                                        ***

I flashed the light, trying to keep my hand steady. We had been in the sewers for at least an hour, and the smell of decay had sunk so far into my nose that I became used to it.

I shone the flashlight to the other opening, and I almost barfed. Dean looked over my shoulder and groaned. There was a room off to the side, lit with multiple candles, chains everywhere. Piles of the same hairy, bloody, and now slimy-looking, skin lined the floor. There was a clatter of chains, and my gun flew up. Dean stepped in front of me and grabbed one hand.

“Stay behind me.” He ordered, taking a finger and hooking it onto his belt loop.

I followed him through the dripping tunnels, ducking when he did to avoid pipes, even though he stood a head taller than me. We followed the noise through to another room. Someone coughed, and our heads snapped to a figure under a dirty, tattered sheet. She coughed again, and my eyes widened. I recognized that cough.

“Becca!” I tore the sheet off her.

Dean pulled me away. “It might not be her. Knife.” He held a hand out.

Becca’s eyes widened, and she opened her mouth to scream.

“Becca, no! Please. It’s us, I swear it’s really us. We just need to make sure that it’s really you.” I comforted, holding her by the shoulders.

Dean sighed, and pressed the flat end of the blade against her bare shoulder. There was no reaction, and we sighed in relief.

“Okay. Okay, you’re okay. Knife.” I held my hand out, and he gave it back to me.

I cut Becca out of her ropes. “What happened?”

She began to cry as we held her steady. “I was walking home, and everything just went white.” She whimpered. “Someone hit me over the head, and I wound up here just in time to see that thing turn into me. I don’t know, how is that even possible?” She shuddered.

“Okay, okay. It’s okay.” Dean tried to soothe her. “Come on. Can you walk?” He asked.

She nodded. “Okay, okay. We’ve gotta hurry. Sams went to see you.” I pulled her up.

She groaned, and Dean grunted, pulling her into his side. We took off through the tunnels, rushing to save Sam.

                                                        ***

“Hey!” I shouted.

The shifter, again as Dean, pushed himself off Sam. He got up, and came my way. I shot twice, nailing him in the heart both times. I watched as the color behind his eyes drained, and he fell to the ground. I dropped the gun and began to shake.

“Sam!” Becca ran to Sam, and Dean grabbed me by the shoulders, turning me around.

“Hey. Hey, hey baby girl. Hi, it’s okay. I’m right here. I am right here. I’m okay. It’s okay.” He pulled me into a hug.

I whimpered. He let me go, and I moved to Sam. He sat up and hugged me as Dean went to the shifter. Dean snatched something off the shifter’s neck and nodded back to us.

                                                        ***

Dean and I were by the car. I was sitting on the hood, slumped against his arm. He was looking at a map of the US.

“I’m sorry you had to do that, babes.” He whispered.

“I’m just glad you and Sams are okay.” I shrugged.

“You’re an amazing hunter. I’m so proud of you.” He kissed the side of my head.

Becca waved to us, and we waved back. She headed back inside the house, and Sam came back to the car.

“So what about Zack?” I asked.

“Cops are blaming this freak Dean Winchester guy for Emily’s murder. They found the murder weapon in the guy’s lair, Zack’s clothes stained with her blood. Now they’re thinking maybe the surveillance tape was tampered with.” Sam shrugged.

Dean rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, Becca says Zack’s gonna be released soon.”

“Come on, babes. Time to go.” Dean kissed my head again, and I smiled before crawling into the car.

                                                        ***

“Sorry, man.” Dean’s voice was a whisper.

“About what?” Sam’s hands were running through my hair.

I was crumpled between the boys, head against Sam’s chest. They thought I was sleeping, and I preferred it that way.

“I really wish things could be different, you know? I wish you could just be… Joe College.” Dean sighed.

Sam’s hand stopped, and then he sighed. “No, that’s okay. You know, the truth is, even at Stanford, deep down, I never really fit in.”

I could hear the smile in Dean’s voice. “Well, that’s ‘cause you’re a freak.”

Sam snorted. “Yeah, thanks.”

“Well, I’m a freak, too. I’m right there with ya, all the way. And so is Olive.” Dean poked my nose.

Sam laughed, and he dropped his head against mine.

“Yeah, I know you two are.” He sighed.

“You know, I gotta say… I’m sorry I’m gonna miss it.” Dean squeezed my leg.

“Miss what?” I opened my eyes.

“How many chances am I gonna have to see my own funeral?” Dean smiled down at me, then up to Sam.

Sam kissed my head again and Dean looked back to the road as we kept driving.

Previous Ep: Bloody Mary (1.05)

Next Up: Dean the Birthday Boy

Next Ep: Hook Man

#supernatural sister #supernatural oc #supernatural ocs #supernatural cast #dean winchester #sam winchester #supernatural season one #supernatural imagine #olive winchester #micaelawrites #my posts #dean and sam #sam and dean #sam winchester x sister!reader #dean winchester x sister!reader #dean x sister!reader #sam x sister!reader #sam x sister!oc #sam winchester x sister!oc #dean x sister!oc #dean winchester x sister!oc #john winchester #john winchester x daughter!reader #john winchester x daughter!oc #jensen ackles #jared padalecki #jeffery dean morgan #winchester #winchester sister #supernatural

[winchesterbrotherstan]

Heya! Would you mind adding me to the tag list for your Olive Winchester series? Thanks! Your writing is amazing

🥺 hi yes omg ofc thank you. sorry i haven’t written much, i’ve been working nonstop for the last few weeks. hoping i will be able to update soon!

#micaelawrites #supernatural

[winchesterbrotherstan]

Supernatural- Bloody Mary (1.05)

Pairing: N/A, Olive Winchester (OC)

Summary: An old classic rears its ugly head, Dean kicks into big brother overdrive mode, Sam and Olive each deal with hard truths

Warnings: Mentions of death, cursing, crying, blood, very brief mention of like kidnap/non-con or whatever you interpret it as. not specific but could definitely be seen at that, etc

Word Count: 6696

“Sams, wake up.” I shook the writhing boy.

He shot out of his sleep. He sat up and looked around before sighing. We had been in the hospital parking lot for the last fifteen minutes, and Sam’s nightmare persisted.

“I take it I was having a nightmare.”

Dean nodded. “Yeah, another one.”

Sam shrugged. “Hey, at least I got some sleep.”

Dean and I shared a look and I turned to face Sam. “You know, sooner or later we're gonna have to talk about this.”

Sam ignored me. “Are we here?”

“Yup.” Dean popped the ‘p’ “Welcome to Toledo, Ohio.”

Sam picked the newspaper out of my lap and read over the obituary of Steven Shoemaker.

“So what do you think really happened to this guy?”

I grinned. “That's what we're gonna find out. Let's go.”

I pushed Dean, and he grunted, pulling himself out of the car. I followed, and Sam got out too. We smiled at each other before heading into the hospital.

                                                             ***

“Alright, room 114.” Dean shoved his hands in his pockets.

I pointed to the door labeled MORGUE. Dean grinned proudly and Sam ruffled my hair as he passed by, leading us in. There were two desks, the empty one with a name plate labeled Dr. D. Feiklowicz. There was a man at the other desk. He was bald and his eyes were creepily settled on us, eyebrow quirked as we walked in.

“Can I help you?” He asked.

Dean nodded. “Yeah. We're the, uh… med students.” He bullshitted through a smile.

“Sorry?”

“Oh, Doctor… Figlavitch didn't tell you? We talked to him on the phone. He, uh, we're from Ohio State. He's supposed to show us the Shoemaker corpse. It's for our paper.” He gestured to Sam and I.

“Well, I'm sorry, he's at lunch.”

“Oh well he said, uh… oh, well, you know, it doesn't matter. You don't mind just showing us the body, do you?” Dean grinned.

The tech shook his head. “Sorry, I can't. Doc will be back in an hour. You can wait for him if you want.” He shrugged.

“An hour? Ooh.” Dean sucked in air through his teeth. “We gotta be heading back to Columbus by then.”

“Yeah.” Sam added.

“Uh, this paper’s worth over half my grade, so if you wouldn’t mind just helping us out?” I smiled.

“Uh, no.” The guy mocked my tone, tilting his head at me.

Dean laughed a bit, then turned around, grabbing me by the shoulder and pulling me with.

“I'm gonna hit him in his face, I swear.” He was still smiling, and his tone was kind.

I shot Sam my version of a puppy look, and he sighed, hitting Dean’s arm. He fished his wallet out of his pocket, and stepped ahead of us, laying down at least five twenties on the tech’s desk. The tech eyed the money, then pocketed it, getting up and plastering on a smile.

“Follow me.”

I followed, arms crossed over my chest. Sam and Dean didn’t follow, and I let out a long sigh.

“You sure you’re a college student?” The tech stopped in his tracks.

“Yeah. I graduated high school early. I’m seventeen.”

“You must be smart.” His gaze became predatory and he took a step closer, eyes at my chest. “A little more skin would’ve gotten you what you wanted. Didn’t need a hundred bucks. And what are they? Your boyfriends?”

“She’s my little sister.” Sam appeared, stepping in front of me.

I had never felt so thankful for the boy’s towering height until now. The tech only swallowed and walked us back into the morgue.

“Now the newspaper said his daughter found him. She said his eyes were bleeding.” Dean shook as at my other side.

The tech pulled the sheet over Shoemaker’s face. I grimaced as the stench of death reached my nose. Sam noticed, and pulled me into his side.

“More than that. They practically liquefied.”

“Any sign of a struggle? Maybe somebody did it to him?” Dean suggested.

The tech shook his head. “Nope. Besides the daughter, he was all alone.”

“What's the official cause of death?” Sam asked, arm locked around my shoulders.

“Ah, Doc's not sure. He's thinking massive stroke, maybe an aneurysm? Something burst up in there, that's for sure.”

Sam and I looked at each other, and he spoke for me.

“What do you mean?”

“Intense cerebral bleeding. This guy had more blood in his skull than anyone I've ever seen.” He seemed gleeful.

“The… the eyes. What could’ve caused something like that?” I asked.

“Capillaries can burst. See a lot of bloodshot eyes with stroke victims.” He shrugged again.

Dean snorted. “Yeah? You ever see exploding eyeballs?”

The tech squirmed. “That's a first for me, but hey, I'm not a doctor.”

Dean and I looked at each other, and he nodded. I wanted the police report. He would be able to get it.

“Hey, think we could take a look at that police report? You know, for uh… our paper.” Dean inched forward.

“I'm not really supposed to show you that.” The tech grinned, and it was disgusting.

Sam scoffed and began to pull out his wallet, but I tapped his arm. I popped to my toes and grabbed the tech by the shoulders, pulling him closer.

“Pretty please or your boss can find out how you tried to get into a seventeen year old’s pants and then my tall ass brother can beat the shit out of you.” I whispered with a smile.

I could feel Dean’s obnoxious, again prideful, smile. Sam pulled me back by the shoulders and tucked me under his arms. He smiled, hand on his hip. Dean grinned, and it was endearing. The tech’s shoulders fell.

                                                            ***

“Might not be one of ours. Might just be some freak medical thing.” Sam offered as we walked down the stairs.

“How many times in Dad's long and varied career has it actually been a freak medical thing and not some sign of an awful supernatural death?” Dean arched an eyebrow.

Sam was defeated. “Uh, almost never.”

Dean grinned. “Exactly.”

“Alright, let's go talk to the daughter.” I tugged Sam’s arm.

                                                            ***

“Feel like we're underdressed.” Dean whispered.

Everyone was wearing black suits and dresses, and the three of us stood in a canvas jacket, a leather jacket, and a flannel. Sam rolled his eyes and forced us to keep moving. We walked through the house, into the backyard.

“I’m sorry, have you seen Donna?” Sam asked a man who was taking a sip of his drink.

The man only pointed to a group of four girls. Two looked alike, and sort of like Shoemaker. Dean took the lead as we walked toward them.

“You must be Donna, right?”

“Yeah.” She looked up, eyeing us.

“Hi, uh… we’re really sorry.” Sam offered a polite smile. 

“Thank you.”

“I'm Sam, this is Olive, and that’s Dean. We worked with your dad.”

Donna looked to her friend, then back to Sam, and then to me.

“I’m an intern.” I piped up.

“You really worked with my dad?” She asked.

Dean stepped in with a nod. “Yeah. This whole thing…” Dean shook his head. “I mean, a stroke.”

“I don't think she really wants to talk about this right now.” Her friend cut in, trying to defend her.

Donna shook her head, hand on her friend’s arm. “It's okay. I'm okay.”

Dean’s demeanor softened. “Were there any symptoms? Dizziness? Migraines?”

Donna shook her head. “No.”

The younger girl turned around, pouting. “That's because it wasn't a stroke.”

Sam and I perked up.

“Lily, don’t say that.” Donna chided.

“What?” Sam tilted his head.

“I'm sorry, she's just upset.” Donna tried to brush it off, but Lily persisted. 

“No, it happened because of me.”

“Sweetie, it didn't.” Donna shook her head again.

“Lily?” Sam came down on one knee, now eye level with the girl. “Why would you say something like that?”

“Right before he died, I said it.” She whimpered.

Sam looked at me and I bent by his side.

“You said what?”

She looked up at me. She couldn’t have been any older than twelve, and I felt a sense of panic spark in me. Is this what I would be like if we didn’t find Dad? Sitting with my brothers and blaming myself?

“Bloody Mary, three times in the bathroom mirror.” She paused, then looked back to Sam, desperate for belief. “She took his eyes, that's what she does.”

Donna dismissed it once more. “That's not why Dad died. This isn't your fault.”

“I think your sister's right, Lily. There's no way it could have been Bloody Mary. Your dad didn't say it, did he?” Dean came to our side and squatted too.

Lily shook her head. “No, I don't think so.”

                                                            ***

My hand went for the door handle, and Sam stopped me, pushing me back into Dean as he opened the door instead. I peered under his shoulder to see dried blood on the floor. I grimaced.

“The Bloody Mary legend...Dad ever find any evidence that it was a real thing?” Sam called back over his shoulder.

Dean and I looked at each other, and I shook my head. “Not that we know of.”

We followed Sam into the bathroom, and he stooped down, touching the blood.

“I mean, everywhere else all over the country, kids will play Bloody Mary, and as far as we know, nobody dies from it.” I shrugged.

“Yeah, well, maybe everywhere it's just a story, but here it's actually happening.” Dean opened the medicine cabinet and fiddled with the things inside.

“The place where the legend began?” I pushed myself up to sit on the sink.

Sam stood up. “But according to the legend, the person who says B-” He cut himself off, realizing he was facing the mirror. He shut it, then turned around, leaning against the sink, by my side.

“The person who says you know what gets it. But here…”

Dean nodded. “Shoemaker gets it instead, yeah.”

I nodded too. “Right. De?”

Dean shook his head. “Never heard anything like that before.”

“Still, the guy did die right in front of the mirror, and the daughter's right. The way the legend goes, you know who scratches your eyes out.” I mimicked the motion, fingers going for Dean’s face.

He smacked my hand away with a playful roll of the eyes, and Sam laughed before becoming serious once more.

“It's worth checking in to. Come on, down.” Sam held a hand out and I grabbed it, squirming off the counter and onto my feet.

Dean led the way out of the bathroom and down the hall.

“What are you doing up here?” The girl from earlier was in front of us, and Dean tucked me between himself and Sam.

“We… we uh, had to go to the bathroom.” Dean stumbled on his words.

“Who are you?” Her eyes narrowed, and Sam’s hand came to my shoulder.

“Like we said downstairs, we worked with  Donna's dad.”

She shook her head. “He was a day trader or something. He worked by himself.”

“No, I know, we meant-”

“And he didn’t have interns.” She looked at me. “And all those weird questions downstairs, what was that? So you tell me what's going on, or I start screaming.” She crossed her arms over her chest.

“Alright, alright. We think something happened to Donna's dad.” I broke.

“Yeah, a stroke.”

I shook my head. “That's not what a stroke looks like. We think it might be something else.”

She was taken aback. “Like what?”

Sam shrugged. “Honestly? We don't know yet. But we don't want it to happen to anyone else. That's the truth.”

“So, if you're gonna scream, go right ahead.” Dean wasn’t impressed.

“Who are you, cops?”

Sam and I looked up at Dean.

“Something like that.”

“I'll tell you what. Here.” I picked a paper out of Sam’s pocket, and he handed me a pen.

I scribbled my phone number down, followed by Dean’s and gave it to her.

“If you think of anything, you or your friends notice anything strange, out of the ordinary… just give us a call.” I offered a polite smile before Dean walked us down the hall, Sam’s hand never leaving my shoulder.

                                                            ***

“Alright, say Bloody Mary really is haunting this town. There's gonna be some sort of proof. Like a local woman who died nasty.” Dean spoke as we walked through the library doors.

“Yeah but a legend this widespread it's hard. I mean, there's like 50 versions of who she actually is. One story says she's a witch, another says she's a mutilated bride, there's a lot more.” Sam smiled at a librarian as he spoke.

“Alright, so what are we supposed to be looking for?” Dean asked.

“Well every version's got a few things in common. It's always a woman named Mary, and she always dies right in front of a mirror. So we've gotta search local newspapers, public records as far back as they go. See if we can find a Mary who fits the bill.” I explained.

Dean’s lips curled back into a snarl. “Well that sounds annoying.”

Sam and I smiled. “Nah, it won't be so bad, as long as we-” Sam cut himself off I followed his line of sight, met with computers stamped with Out of Order signs on them. I sighed, and Sam let out a chuckle.

“He takes it back. This is gonna be super fucking annoying.”

                                                            ***

“Why’d you let me fall asleep?” Sam’s voice was weak and crackly, and his eyes were still half shut.

I ran a hand through his hair. I had my legs propped up on the library table, which was cluttered with public records. Sam had slumped into my lap a few hours earlier, and Dean wouldn’t let me wake him.

“‘Cause I’m an awesome brother and Olive can’t stop me. So, what’d you dream about?”

Sam looked up at me and smiled as I ruffled his hair. “Lollipops and candy canes.”

Dean rolled his eyes. “Yeah, sure.”

I picked up a pen and flung it at Dean, glaring at him. Sam scoffed from his spot on my lap and looked back up at me.

“You guys find anything, bug?”

I shook my head, and Dean spoke.

“Besides a whole new level of frustration?”

Sam went to sit up and I pouted. He dropped his head back against my lap as Dean flipped through papers.

“No. We’ve looked at everything. A Laura and a Catherine committed suicide in front of a mirror, uh-”

“A giant mirror fell on a guy named Dave.” I shrugged. “But no Mary.”

Sam groaned. “Maybe we just haven’t found it yet.”

“I’ve got Dean searching for strange deaths in the area. Ya know, eyeball bleeding, that sorta shit. There’s nothing.”

Dean shook his head. “Whatever’s happening here… maybe it just ain’t Mary.”

Sam’s phone rang before anybody could say anything else, and he fished it out of his pocket before putting it up to his ear.

“Hello?”

I couldn’t hear who was calling, but Sam sat up, a look of concern painted across his gentle face.

                                                            ***

“And they found her on the bathroom floor. And her… her eyes. They were gone.” Charlie sobbed, and I reached for her hand, feeling awful.

She took it as I looked over my shoulder at Dean. His eyebrow was arched, but he said nothing, balancing on the back of the bench. I shifted my attention to Sam, who looked pitiful.

“I’m sorry.” He offered, hands in his pockets as he stood in front of us.

“And she said it.” Charlie looked to me, and I maintained eye contact, feeling the boys look at each other. “I heard her say it. But it couldn't be because of that. I'm insane, right?” She cried again.

“No.” I shook my head and squeezed her hand. “Charlie, no, you’re not insane.”

“Oh God, that makes me feel so much worse.” She whimpered.

“Look.” Sam was, as always, gentle but firm. “We think something's happening here. Something that can't be explained.”

“We’re gonna stop it. But we could use your help.” I looked at her.

                                                            ***

Charlie opened the window, and I jumped in before Sam and Dean, taking the duffle bag and dropping it on the floor. Sam crawled in after me, and Dean came last.

“What did you tell Jill's mom?” Sam asked as I began to pull out the gear we needed.

“Just that I needed some time alone with Jill's pictures and things.”

I handed Sam the camera as Dean shut the curtains. Charlie shivered.

“I hate lying to her.”

“Trust us, this is for the greater good. Hit the lights.” Dean’s tone was, again, kind.

Charlie turned the lights off. “What are you guys looking for?”

“We’ll let you know as soon as we find it.”

Sam continued to fumble with the camera and sighed before tossing it to Dean. “Hey, night vision.”

Dean clicked a button and handed it back to Sam.

“Perfect, thanks.” The taller boy mumbled as he aimed the camera.

Dean pursed his lips and puffed himself up, turning his back to the camera and looking over his shoulder. “Do I look like Paris Hilton?”

I giggled as Sam rolled his eyes, moving to Jill’s closet door. Dean pulled out his EMF meter and paced around the room. I crept into the bathroom, trying to stay within Sam’s reach just in case.

“So… I don't get it.”

Dean looked at me and I rolled my eyes. Whenever I said that, he thought I meant I didn’t understand what was happening.

“What I mean is the first victim didn't summon Mary, and the second victim did. How's she choosing them?”

Dean turned away. “Beats me. I wanna know why Jill said it in the first place.” Dean scoffed.

“It’s just a joke.” Charlie defended, and Sam moved my way as Dean continued.

“Anything, bug?” He asked.

I shrugged. “Nothing obvious.” When I hunted with Dean, I was in Sam’s place, but now I didn’t know what to do.

“Alright, c’mere and help me.” Sam pulled me under his arm as he shuffled into the bathroom, camera up. He ran it around the mirror, and I saw a trickle down the wall.

“Look.” I pointed.

He squinted. “Hey.” He called to Dean. “There’s a blacklight in the trunk, right?”

Dean scrambled out the window as I took the camera from Sam. He pulled the mirror off, setting it face down on the bed. Dean came back in and threw the blacklight our way. I caught it with fumbling hands and held it as Dean closed the curtains again. Sam peeled the brown paper off the back of the mirror, and I clicked the blacklight on before handing it to him.

There was a handprint, and bloody letters spelled out Gary Bryman.

“Gary Bryman?” Charlie read, confused.

“You know who that is?” I asked.

She looked up at me and shook her head. “No.”

She sighed and Sam and I looked at each other, then to Dean, eyes wide.

                                                            ***

“So, Gary Bryman was an eight year old. Killed two years ago in a hit and run.” I spoke to Dean and Charlie as Sam and I came up from behind.

“The car was described as a black Toyota Camry. But nobody got the plates or saw the driver.” Sam sat down and I leaned against him.

“Oh my god.” Charlie’s eyes widened.

Sam and I looked at each other. “What?”

“Jill drove that car.”

Dean seemed exasperated. “We need to get back to your friend Donna's house.”

                                                            ***

“Linda Shoemaker.” I read, sighing as the handprint lit up next to the name.

Sam looked up at me, and we looked at Dean. He sighed.

“Shoemaker killed his wife.”

I shrugged. “Or knew something about her death.”

“Either way.” Sam shrugged and got up.

We followed him downstairs.

“Donna, do you know a Linda Shoemaker by chance?” Sam asked.

“Why are you asking me this?” She squinted.

“Look, we're sorry, but it's important.” Sam pressed.

Donna sighed, but spoke as Charlie nodded at her. “Yeah. Linda's my mom okay? She overdosed on sleeping pills, it was an accident, and that's it.” Charlie’s eyes widened, and the boys and I looked at each other. “I think you should leave.”

Dean put a hand out. “Now Donna, just listen.”

“Just get out of my house!” She pushed past Dean and around the stairs.

“Oh my God. Do you really think her dad could've killed her mom?” Charlie crossed her arms over her chest.

“Maybe.” Sam tilted his head.

“I think I should stick around.” Charlie winced.

Sam nodded, and Dean sighed. “Alright. Just whatever you do, don’t…” Dean made a face.

“Believe me, I won’t say it.” She shook her head.

                                                            ***

I was running through the records again, sitting next to Dean, slumped against his arm as he stared at the laptop, mouth set into a pout and eyes wide and focused.

“Wait, wait, wait, you're doing a nationwide search?” Sam turned from the papers tacked onto the wall to us.

“Yep. The NCIC, the FBI database. At this point any Mary who died in front of a mirror is good enough for me.” Dean’s eyes remained strangely wide.

“But, De, if she’s haunting the town, she should’ve died in the town.” I looked up from the papers in my lap.

“I'm telling you, sweetie, there's nothing local, we’ve checked. So unless you two got a better idea…”

“The way Mary’s choosing her victims, it seems like there’s a pattern.” Sam scratched his head.

“I know, I was thinking the same thing.” Dean looked to him.

“With Shoemaker, and Jill’s hit and run,” I started

“Both had secrets where people died.” Dean caught on with a nod.

“Yeah. I mean, there’s a lot of folklore about mirrors. That, that they reveal all your lies, your secrets, that they’re a true reflection of your soul, which is why it’s bad luck to break them.” I rubbed my eyes.

Dean took his arm back and threw it around me. “Right, right. So maybe if you've got a secret, I mean like a really nasty one where someone died, then Mary sees it, and punishes you for it.”

“Whether you're the one that summoned her or not.” Sam concluded.

Dean turned back to the computer. “Take a look at this.”

There was a picture of a woman lying in front of a mirror, in a puddle of blood. I wrinkled my nose and sighed through my nose.

Dean printed two pictures, and Sam took the first one. I grabbed the second, sighing. It was a handprint, the letters Tre by the side. I got out of my seat and pushed at Sam’s arm. He moved it and let me drop into his lap, putting the picture side-by-side with the ones we had taken of Jill’s and the Shoemaker’s mirror.

“Looks like the same handprint.” He nodded.

“Yeah, her name was Mary Worthington. An unsolved murder in Fort Wayne, Indiana.” Dean looked at us with lips pursed and eyebrows raised.

                                                            ***

“Why do I have to stay?” I pouted.

“Because you still have to go to school. We’ll be back before school lets out, promise.” Dean patted my head.

I scowled and ducked away from his hand, glaring at Sam. “This isn’t fair.”

“Bug, come on. We all grew up like this.”

“Yeah, but before I had at least one of you! Now you’re just gonna leave me here in Toledo while you guys drive all the way to Indiana?” I gestured with my hands.

“Sweetpea, it’s only two hours. You’ll be okay.” Dean put his arms in his pockets and I stomped my foot, feeling like a child.

“Sammy, what if something happens?” I turned to him.

“Sweetheart, you can handle yourself. It’ll be okay.” Dean reassured.

I groaned, then looked over my shoulder at the high school. I turned back to my brothers and sighed. “Can’t believe you guys.”

“Alright, hey, bug, look at me. We’ll be back before you know it. I promise.” Sam held his pinky finger out for mine. I sighed before hooking them together.

“Anything happens, you call me. Okay? We’ll turn right around. Dean’s driving, so we’ll be back, quick.” He kissed the top of my head.

I closed my eyes and sighed again. I wasn’t keen on being separate from my brothers. Elementary school had been the worst, because Dean was in high school, and Sam was in middle school. When I got up to middle school, Dean was already out, and he was the one to drop me off and pick me up, and if he couldn’t, Sam could sneak out of high school to come get me. But now, in high school, alone? It was like being five all over again.

“We promise. Everything’s gonna be okay. Alright? We love you. Be good.” Dean kissed my forehead.

I hugged him, then kissed his cheek. He winked at me and I hugged Sam, sighing.

“It’s gonna be alright, bug. I promise.” He stressed.

I rolled my eyes and kissed his cheek. “Love you guys.”

“We love you too.”

                                                            ***

I sighed as the bell rang. I had skipped out on my art class, because Donna was in it and she gave me a lethal glare the moment I walked in. I was hiding in the bathroom, propped up on the toilet, balanced on my feet. I had my head in my hands. Being apart from the boys was stressing me out more than I had anticipated, especially with Dad being gone. I was beginning to think that Dean and I, and after Jessica’s death, maybe Sam too, were dangerously codependent. Not that any of us had addictions or an awful mental health, but we literally could not stand to be apart, and without each other, we all fell apart.

“I mean, you bring these strangers into my house and they ask me things like that?” I heard Donna, and I winced.

“They were only trying to help. Please, Donna, you have to believe me.” Charlie followed.

“What? About Bloody Mary?” Donna hissed.

“Please, I know it sounds crazy-”

“Crazy doesn’t even begin to cover it! I mean, it’s one thing for Lily to believe this shit, she’s twelve. But you?”

“Think about the way your dad died, okay? And the way Jill died.” Charlie pleaded.

“Okay, so. Bloody Mary.”

I dug my face into my hands and tried to stifle a groan. Chances were, that if I stepped out to stop Donna, she would sock me in the face.

“No!” Charlie tried.

“Bloody Mary. Bloody Mary.” She finished, and another pause followed. “See? Nothing happened.”

“Oh my God.” Charlie whimpered. “Why would you do that?”

“Jesus Christ. There really is something wrong with you.” Donna scoffed before storming out.

I bounded out of the stall, running straight into Charlie.

“What’s gonna happen now?”

“She’s gonna kill someone with a secret.” I panted, looking anywhere but the mirror. “Just have to make sure we don’t look at anything with a reflection.”

“You’re scared. Oh my God, you have a secret!” She shouted.

“Charlie, please!” I shushed her, dragging her out of the bathroom.

“What the fuck are you not telling me?”

I sighed, closing my eyes as we stood against the lockers.

“When I was twelve… Sam was at school, Dean and my dad were at work.” I swallowed. “There was a guy. H-he-he was probably in his thirties. I was walking back from the laundromat, and…” I whimpered.

“I’m sorry.”

“I fought back before he could do anything, and I kicked him in the head. I didn’t mean to kick as hard as I did, and… he died. I ran home, and I never said anything to anyone until now.” I shuddered.

“I’m so sorry, Olive.” She frowned.

I shook my head to clear it, then grabbed her by the arm again. “It’s fine. I’m fine. We just have to wait for my brothers to come back. They’ll stop this.”

                                                            ***

“Elements that lose electrons become positive ions, which are smaller than other atoms of the same element.”

I rolled my eyes. Chemistry was the worst science class I had ever taken. The teacher kept going, and I took off my glasses, cleaning them. I rubbed my eyes before putting the glasses back on. They were now clean, and the reflections were clear. May was standing behind me, covered in blood. I ripped the glasses off, letting them slam onto the desk. Charlie screamed from the row beside me, and she threw a compac at the ground.

“Shit.” I hissed, getting up as she sprang from her seat.

The other students backed away from her, and the teacher shouted her name. She stopped in front of the window, and I caught Mary’s reflection, albeit a tad fuzzy, along with everything else. Charlie stood, frozen. I picked up her stool and threw it through the window, breaking Mary’s reflection.

“Miss Winchester!” The teacher shouted at me now.

Charlie ran, and he grabbed her. I ran to my desk, grabbing my phone, my glasses, and my journal.

“Charlie, stop it! What’s wrong? Just calm down!” He ordered, but she looked at his glasses and screamed again.

“Let me go!” She tried to escape his grip.

“Fuck.” I growled, hitting his wrists until his grip loosened.

I grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her along with me as she continued to scream.

                                                            ***

“Sam!” I shouted, crying.

“Bug? Babes, what’s wrong?”

“She said it. Donna said it.” My eyes were burning.

“Shit. Are you okay? Where are you?”

There was a rush of air, and my breathing evened a bit when I heard Dean’s gruff voice.

“Sweetpea, what happened?”

“Donna said it, and Mary came after me and Charlie.”

“Son of a bitch. Where are you?”

“Motel room. Broke all the mirrors I could find, shoved my glasses under a pillow. Don’t know if I got them all. De, I’m scared.” I whimpered.

“Alright, sweetheart. I’m giving you back to Sam. We’re almost home, promise. Just keep your eyes closed.”

“Okay.”

“Bug, we’ll be there in ten, okay? Make sure Charlie keeps her eyes closed too.”

I nodded. “She’s right next to me.” I squeezed her hand. We hadn’t let go of each other since we ran out of school.

“Okay. It’s gonna be okay, ug. I swear.”

“Sams, I’m scared.”

“I know, honey. But it’s gonna be okay. I promise you.”

“Sammy?”

“What is it, bug?”

“Can you stay?”

“Of course I can, baby girl.”

                                                            ***

“Ollie, we’re coming in.” I heard Sam and I let out a strangled cry.

The door clicked open, and I was pulled up. I wrapped myself around Sam and cried, burying my head into his shoulder.

“It’s okay. We’re here now, bug. It’s okay. I promise.”

“Sammy, help me out here.” Dean called him.

“No! Sams, please.” I tightened my arms.

“Bug, he can’t reach the last mirror. Here, he’ll take you.”

Before I could protest, I was shifted off and sat in Dean’s lap.

“S’okay. Promise.” Dean whispered.

“Hey, hey. It’s okay. Hey. You guys can open your eyes now.” Sam whispered, kneeling by the side of the bed.

I slowly opened my eyes and pulled back. Dean’s freckled face was visible in the dark. Sam’s hand came to my back and I squirmed away from Dean, throwing myself at Sam. He caught me against his side with a grunt. He pulled me up and sat on the other side of the bed.

“Now, listen. You two are gonna stay right here on this bed. And you’re not gonna look at glass, or anything else that has a reflection, okay?” Sam instructed, rubbing my back. “As long as you do that, she can not get to you.”

There was a long pause, and I buried my head into Sam’s neck, again closing my eyes.

“But I can’t keep that up forever.” Charlie broke the silence. “I’m going to die, aren’t I?”

“No. No. Not anytime soon.” Sam shook his head.

“Alright, Charlie. We need to know what happened.” Dean’s voice was gentle, and I couldn’t help but look up at him.

“It’s like Olive told you. We were in the bathroom. Donna said it.” She whimpered.

Sam sighed, arms tightening around me.

“That’s not what we’re talking about. Something happened, didn’t it? In your life… a secret. Where someone got hurt. Can you tell us about it?” Dean coaxed.

Charlie began to cry, and the boys looked at each other. “I had this boyfriend. I loved him. But he kind of scared me too, you know?” Her breaths were shuddered. “And one night, at his house, we got in this fight. Then I broke up with him, and he got upset, and he said he needed me and he loved me, and he said ‘Charlie, if you walk out that door right now, I'm gonna kill myself.’” Her voice cracked, and Dean looked to Sam. “And you know what I said? I said ‘Go ahead.’ And I left.” She whimpered. “How could I say that? How could I leave him like that?” She looked to Dean, and then Sam. “ I just...I didn't believe him, you know? I should have.” She buried her face back into her knees and began to cry once more.

There was a long pause, and then Sam looked down at me. I began to cry, and I ducked my head back into his shoulder.

“Bug.” He whispered.

“No.” I whined.

“Bug, look at me.”

“No, Sams. Your eyes always have a reflection in them.” I whispered.

He sighed, then stuck his mouth by my ear. “Okay. Then talk to me.”

I shook my head, crying.

“Bug, please.”

“No, Sams.” I repeated.

“Baby girl, please. Whatever you did, I’m not upset with you. Dean won’t be upset either. Right?”

“Of course not.” I felt the bed dip as Dean moved next to me.

I cried, shaking my head.

“Bug. Please.” Sam whispered.

“Promise.” I whispered.

“Swear on my mother’s grave.” Dean’s voice was soft.

I looked up at him, then put my head back down, again crying.

“Babes. Please.” Sam cooed.

I sighed, letting my breathing even out. “It was the year after you left.” I whimpered.

“Shh, shh. It’s okay. Just tell us what happened.”

“De, y-you and Dad w-w-w-were on a hunt.”

“Shh shh shh.” Sam rubbed my back.

“And I went to do laundry. And when I went back to the motel, this guy trapped me in an alleyway.” I sniveled.

“Oh, sweetheart.” Dean’s hand came to the back of my head and I could feel the anger in his blood.

I shook my head. “I fought back, De. I fought as hard as I could, b-but…”

“Bug. It’s okay. Keep going.” Sam cooed again.

“I kicked him in the head, and I didn’t mean to, Sams, but I-I killed him.” I bawled. “I’m sorry!”

I felt the boys looking at each other, and Dean pressed a kiss to the side of my head. “It’s okay. We’re not upset.”

“Babes, we’re gonna go stop her. Okay?” Sam whispered, and Dean gave my head another kiss before getting up.

“No.” I shook my head, clinging to Sam. “No, Sams, please, please, please don’t leave me, not again.” I whined.

He shushed me again. “Baby girl, I have to. I have to stop her, so we can save you.”

“Sams, please.” I cried.

“It’s okay. It’s gonna be okay.”

“Hey, hey, okay.” I felt Dean pull me off and sit me down. “Listen to me.”

I sniffled and tried to stop crying. Dean cradled my face in his hands, wiping my tears away. Sam smoothed my hair back, and Dean’s calloused thumb ran over my cheek. I calmed down, breathing through my mouth.

“We’re gonna save you. We’ll be back before you know it. I promise. You’re gonna be okay. Okay?”

I sighed before nodding. “Okay.”

“Okay. Stay here. Anything happens, you call. Alright?” Dean murmured.

I nodded again. “I love you guys.”

A kiss to the forehead and another to the top of my head.

“We love you too, Ol.”

                                                            ***

“Sam, how the fuck are you gonna get her to come out?” I asked.

I had called them as soon as I noticed the flaw in their plan.

“Don’t worry about it, bug.” I heard him lower his voice. “Come on. Come into this one.”

“Oh my fucking god, Sam! You summoned her, didn’t you?”

“It’s your fault. You killed her. You killed Jessica.” The second voice, almost Sam’s voice, but not quite, came.

“Sam?”

The phone thudded, and he grunted. I heard a metallic crash, and I panicked.

“Sam!”

“You never told her the truth! Who you really were!” A loud crash followed, and Sam was gasping.

“Sams.” I whimpered.

“But it’s more than that, isn’t it? Those nightmares you’ve been having of Jessica dying. Screaming! Burning! You had them for days before she died! Didn’t you?”

I whimpered, throwing my head back against the headboard. “Sammy, please.”

“You were so desperate to ignore them, to believe they were just dreams. How could you ignore them like that? How could you leave her alone to die! You dreamt it would happen!”

There was a smashing of glass, and the voice disappeared.

“Sam! Sammy!” Dean was on the other side now.

“It’s Sam.”

“God, are you okay?”

I sighed. “Boys!”

“Ol. Jesus, you really can’t be apart from us, can you?” Dean picked up the phone and chuckled.

“I just wanted to make sure you knew how to get her. Is Sam okay?”

“Yeah, he’s fine. Come on, come on.”

There was another thud, and Dean hissed.

“Boys!”

There was no response.

“You killed them! All those people! You killed them!” It was a girl’s voice, and there was choking and another shatter of glass.

“Boys?”

“We’re okay. Hey Sam?”

“Yeah?”

“This has gotta be like… what? Six hundred years of bad luck?”

I could hear Sam’s laugh. “Yeah, probably. It’s over, bug. We’re coming home, alright?”

“Can I take the blankets off now? I think I look like total shit.”

Sam snorted. “Sure, babes. Just… be careful. Just in case.”

I rolled my eyes, yanking the blanket off the big mirror, scowling at my tear-stained face.

“Oh gross.”

                                                            ***

“So this is really over?” Charlie asked as Dean parked in front of her house.

“Yeah,” Dean nodded. “It’s over.”

She smiled. “Thank you.”

Dean reached over the back to shake her hand. She hugged me quickly before getting out of the car.

“Charlie?” Sam called.

She turned around, head tilted.

“Your boyfriend's death… you really should try to forgive yourself. No matter what you did, you probably couldn't have stopped it. Sometimes bad things just happen.” Sam shrugged.

Charlie smiled at him. “Bye, Winchesters.” She turned and disappeared into the house.

“Hey.” Dean leaned over to hit Sam’s arm. “That’s good advice.”

He drove off, and I sighed between my brothers. I had buried my secret deep in the back of my brain, horrified my brothers would be upset with me. But now it was out, and although I felt relieved, I couldn’t help but replay what I had heard over the phone.

“Hey, Sam?” Dean broke the silence.

“Yeah?” Sam turned.

“Now that this is all over, I want you to tell me what that secret is.” Dean’s eyes went from the road to Sam, and back.

“Look, Dean… you're my brother and I'd die for you… but there are some things I need to keep to myself.” Sam looked out the window.

I looked up at him and felt my heart shatter. I had loved Jess too. She became the mother I never had. It was a type of love that, no matter how hard my brothers tried, they couldn’t give me. I bit my lip and threw my arms around Sam. He tensed, taken aback. I whimpered against him and he softened, wrapping his arms back around me with a sigh.

Previous Ep: Phantom Traveler (1.04)

Next Ep: Skin (1.06)

#supernatural sister #supernatural oc #supernatural ocs #supernatural cast #supernatural imagine #supernatural fic #supernatural season one #dean winchester #sam winchester #winchester!reader #olive winchester #micaelawrites #my posts #dean and sam #sam and dean #sam winchester x sister!reader #dean winchester x sister!reader #dean x sister!reader #sam x sister!reader #sam x sister!oc #sam winchester x sister!oc #dean x sister!oc #dean winchester x sister!oc #john winchester #john winchester x daughter!reader #john winchester x daughter!oc #jensen ackles #jared padalecki #winchester sister #supernatural

[winchesterbrotherstan]

Agents of Shield- Pilot (1.01)

Pairing: Leo Fitz x Violet Ward (OC)

Summary: Coulson gathers the group, Violet is reunited with her long lost brother, they pick up a stray, and Grant tries to be an angry dad

Warnings: cursing, uhh blood i think?

Word Count:  6086 (not that long)

“Leo, what are you doing?” My voice was a low grumble as I turned my head.

“Trying to fix the fan so it stops making that bloody clicking noise.” 

I rolled my eyes at the curly haired Scot, pulling my pillow out from under my head before chucking it at him.

“Come back to bed.” I snuggled further into the blankets and closed my eyes.

“But Violet...” He trailed off and sighed.

I felt the bed sink beside me as he crawled in next to me, worming his way under the covers.

“We have to be on Coulson’s plane in two hours. Let’s just relax.” I twisted around to face him, the blankets still up to my chin.

“I just hate the noise.” Fitz pulled me against him, my forehead against his warm shoulder and my hands curled against his stomach. “And I know you do too, darlin’.”

I melted at the pet name, slouching against him as I pressed a kiss to his shoulder. I heard him chuckle and his chest rumbled before he kissed my forehead. I felt myself drift in and out of consciousness, his heartbeat under my ear lulling me back to sleep.

“Love you.” He mumbled, rearranging ourselves so my arms were around his neck and his head was on my shoulder.

“Love you too.” I tangled my fingers in his hair and pecked the side of his head.

We stayed like that for a while, both on the verge of sleeping and awake. A loud knock at the door startled us both. Fitz yelped as I flinched, sitting up blearily.

“What?” He shouted, flopping back onto the pillows.

“Agent Ward, I need to speak with you.”

I forced myself out of bed and shuffled to the door, pulling my hair back behind my ears as I opened the door, greeted by an antsy Coulson.

“It’s four in the morning. What’s wrong?” I tugged on the sleeves of Fitz’s flannel, pulling them down my arms.

Coulson sighed before looking up with a grimace.

“What is it, sir?” Fitz was behind me now, hands on my shoulders and as confused as I was.

“Violet. We found your brother.”

I would’ve stumbled backward if Fitz wasn’t holding me steady. I felt my eyes sting as they welled with tears.

“You found Grant?” I could feel myself shaking.

“Yes. He’s joining us on the mission. Are you gonna be okay?”

I nodded before looking back up. “Does he know that-”

“No. I haven’t spoken to him yet. I think it’s best that he finds out in due time.” Coulson’s gaze was sympathetic, and I could feel Fitz staring at me out of more concern than pity.

I nodded again. “Okay. Thank you, sir.” I shut the door in his face and closed my eyes.

Maybe I’m dreaming.

I heard thunder roar outside and rain started to hit the window.

“You alright darling?” Fitz put his hands on my waist this time and led me back to the bed, pulling me to sit next to him.

I pinched the bridge of my nose as I nodded. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

“It’s going to be okay, Violet. I promise.” He wrapped an arm around my shoulders.

I looked up at him and nodded once more, head cleared this time. “I know.”

                                                           ***

“You okay, Violet?” Jemma asked me, concern in her voice.

I nodded. “Yeah. Just nervous.”

“Don’t wanna see your brother after all this time?” Fitz pressed a quick kiss to my head before passing by me, taking one of the bags from the floor and packing it into the lab.

“Scared to see if he’s changed.” I answered truthfully, laying on the floor in front of the lab doors.

“Whoa whoa whoa! Watch it! That’s the night-night gun.” Fitz scrambled over to take it from Jemma.

“Well it’s on my stuff and it doesn’t work and there’s no way we’re calling it the night-night gun.” Jemma scoffed.

“The bullets work. Nonlethal, heavy stopping power, break up under the subcutaneous tissue-”

Jemma cut him off with some other scientific argument as I heard footsteps coming up the cargo ramp.

“Violet?”

I bolted upright and struggled to get to my feet, frantic.

“Hey Grant.” I looked up at him.

I hadn’t seen my brother since I was fourteen, which was about eleven years ago. Things had happened and we had been told he was dead, but it never felt real.

He looked at me and froze, as if he were a buffering computer. I started to think that maybe being on a mission with him would be an awful idea. He must’ve noticed my change in posture, because he carefully put his bag on the floor and came practically running to lift me off my feet in a bone crushing hug.

“Hi. I’ve missed you.”

“I’m so sorry, Vi.” He whispered.

“Wasn’t your fault. Never was.” I fixed my arms around his middle as he put me back on the ground, still hugging me.

“I’m sorry.” His heart thundered under my ear and I took a deep breath.

“It’s okay.” I took a step back and looked up at him.

He had changed a lot since I had last seen him, but that was when he was nineteen. He should be thirty now, if my math was right. I couldn’t help but stare, eyes flickering over every detail of his face. His jaw seemed to be more square, his nose flatter. His eyes looked the same. He pulled me in for another hug before sighing.

“Gotta go get set up.” He squeezed my arm.

I nodded and stepped out of his way. Fitz-Simmons were still arguing about the bullets from the night-night gun, and Grant dropped his bag roughly, getting their attention. I stayed off to the side, observing. I was a field agent, but I was also a psych agent, and I couldn’t help but wonder what else had changed about Grant. Was he still short-tempered? Did he still close himself off from other people? Were his mannerisms any different? Would I still be able to read him like a book?

“Fitz-Simmons?” He asked.

“Fitz.”

“Simmons. I’m engineering, she’s biochem.” They pointed at each other.

Jemma sent me a wink and a small smile. Fitz caught my eye with a disgruntled look. They obviously had different thoughts about my older brother.

“So you’re Violet’s brother?” Jemma smiled at him.

“Yeah, Grant Ward. Coulson said I’d need my comm receiver encoded.” Grant eyed them wearily. “I don’t know if you’ve worked with that model before.” He said as Fitz took it.

He only sighed as Fitz broke it to pull out IDIS chip, saying that it was brand-new. I avoided his glance. It would be better if he figured out Fitz and I were a thing at another time.

“He’ll repurpose the IDIS chip.” Jemma said.

“Don’t need the external receiver for the inner-ear comms anymore.” Fitz explained, pulling the chip out.

Grant looked at me and I only shrugged. I wasn’t a tech person.

“So uh, how does it-” He was cut off by Jemma taking a swab of his cheek, holding him in place by the chin.

“Embedded sensorineural silicone matched to your DNA. It’s very posh.” She rubbed the cotton swab around before finally stepping back.

I watched Grant move his cheeks, obviously uncomfortable with being poked and prodded at.

“So, are you excited to be coming on our journey into mystery?” Jemma kept smiling.

“It’s like Christmas.” I watched his nostrils flare.

He was uneasy. He didn’t like the dynamic presented in the room, he didn’t like being touched, he didn’t like the attention. Luckily, Coulson came up, the old red car’s tires screeching.

“One of Coulson’s old S.H.I.E.L.D. collectibles. Flamethrowers, world’s first GPS. He’s mad for this crap.” Fitz explained to Grant.

“Don’t touch Lola.” Coulson ordered a worker helping us load things.

“And he calls it a girl’s name.” Fitz’s nose crinkled up in amusement.

Grant only raised an eyebrow. He was unimpressed and probably a tad stressed. He caught me watching and squinted his eyes before letting a small smile slip, his nose twitching. I grinned and patted his arm as I passed by him, following Coulson up the steps. Grant picked his bag back up and followed suit.

“Lola’s not just a collectible, you know. People tend to confuse the words ‘new’ and ‘improved’. This mobile command, they were in heavy rotation back in the nineties, but then we got a helicarrier. Hey Ward, did you hear the one about the guy who’s afraid of flying?” Coulson tried to joke with my brother.

“I’ve done a night jump into a drop zone under heavy fire, sir. I can handle it.” Grant was oblivious.

“That was … a joke. The first part of a … I’m not gonna tell it now.” Coulson sighed.

“If you plan to unpack, make it quick. Wheels are up in five.” May rounded the corner, eyeing Grant with an expression I couldn’t read. She quickly turned to Coulson. “We may have a hit on one of the Rising Tide’s routing points.”

“Good. We need to do some catching up.” Coulson leafed through the packet she handed him.

May walked away without a second glance. Grant was wide-eyed, looking at where she had walked off and then turning to me.

“Is that … who I think it is?”

“She’s just the pilot.” Coulson shrugged it off.

“Melinda May is just the pilot. Come on, sir. What game are you really playing?” Grant eyed Coulson.

“Better stow your gear.” Coulson ignored his question and went into the small conference room in the middle.

“I’ve gotta go talk to Fitz. I’ll catch you later?” I inched away.

I was noticing small things. Tics, movements, glances, mannerisms, postures. All things that made me uneasy. Something was off about him, but he had been gone so long that I didn’t know what it was.

“You and Fitz are a thing? You could do better.” He apparently could still read me like a book.

I let out a sigh. “I don’t wanna do better. I like him.”

                                                          ***

I stayed in the lab helping Fitz unpack as we flew to California. There was a lead on a member of the Rising Tide. They were an organization that worked day and night against S.H.I.E.L.D. to expose the things we tried so hard to hide. They believed the world would be better off with the knowledge of aliens and other-worldly life forms out there. We did everything we could to stop them, but they only grew in size and were nearly impossible to track down. Coulson wanted to catch this particular member, and it would help him test Grant in the field.

“You are not convinced.” Fitz stood in front of me.

I shrugged from my perch on the table. He grabbed my hands and tilted his head until his eyes were level with mine. I smiled and looked up so he wouldn’t have to twist his neck to talk to me. He cupped my jaw and pulled me closer for a kiss.

“Talk to me.”

I sighed and pulled him closer, so his hands were on either side of me on the table and I could fiddle with the end of his tie. I sprung up and pecked his lips. His presence was beyond reassuring as bad thoughts about Grant filled my mind. 

“They’re small things. Really little things. Mannerisms, tics, wording… Something’s off. But at the same time, I barely know him anymore. I know that something is wrong, but I don’t know him well enough to know what it is.” I licked my lips before looking up at Fitz, met by concerned blue eyes.

He nodded. “I’m sorry, darling.” He opened his arms and I leaned forward, pulling him to stand between my legs so I could slouch against his chest without falling off the table. My forehead found its place against his warm neck as he swept my hair out of my face and then ran his hand up and down my back. I heard footsteps and pulled back, grabbing at Fitz’s hands to hold them in my lap.

“Hey. Oh, sorry…” Grant trailed off as he slinked back behind the door frame. “Coulson needs you guys upstairs is all.” He flashed Fitz a look before heading down the hallway.

Fitz stared, his head tilted to the side. “Now, correct me if I’m wrong, darling, but… he seems almost,” he eyed me and let out a sigh. “Predatory.”

I bit my lip. “You know, angel face, I really wish you were wrong sometimes.”

                                                          ***

May parked in the middle of the street, her body tense. Jemma was eager as she stepped out of the car, a wide smile on her face and her eyes wide. Fitz met me on my side of the car as he looked up at the building in question. The Rising Tide member had filmed a man jumping from a few stories high after it blew up. He had rescued a woman before running off. Coulson suspected the person who filmed the video must’ve caused the explosion. May looked over the breaks in the asphalt left from the man’s fall. She remained stone-faced and wordless.

Jemma talked the entire way up to the floor that had been the source of explosion. Fitz answered her a few times, but she soon didn’t require any interaction. He noticed my continual unease and stopped me, offering a hand. I sighed and took it gratefully. We weren’t publically touchy feely, we didn’t like PDA, but his presence helped, and so did his thumb running across my knuckles.

“This was a lab.” Jemma noted as we walked into the room. “Was this leased as a lab?”

“Mnh-mnh. Self empowerment center.” May shone her flashlight around with a chuckle. “With a top of the line motion-sensor security system.”

“Ah. So a secret lab.” Jemma seemed excited.

I tried to ignore the smells in the burned out room as I took my hand back from Fitz.

“And a superhero. Not a coincidence.”

I knelt next to the body burned on the ground. Their hands were up defensively. They couldn’t run in time to evade the blast. Jemma picked samples off with tweezers and packed them into test tubes. I turned on my heels and walked toward Fitz, who was shining his flashlight around with a grimace on his face.

“So was this explosion sabotage? Was it meant for him? Or were they just in over their heads?” May asked.

“Yeah, working the problem.” He saw the body and tensed further. “Ladies, if you’ll just…” He tried to dodge May and ended up hitting her shoe. He muttered an apology and scampered by.

I ignored May’s raised eyebrow and followed him, placing a hand on his back as he knelt to set up the drones. I could feel May still staring.

“If you’re gonna be in the field, Agent Fitz, you have to get your hands dirty.”

“No, I don’t.” He smiled, clicking things on the tablet in his hands as the drones rose off the floor with a faint whirring. “Heigh-ho, off to work you go.” He sang under his breath.

I bit back a smile as he straightened, sending each drone to do their thing as he stood in the center of the room. He paused and caught me staring. He smiled before going back to his tablet.

“See, we designed each with their own capabilities, so um, some recording the dimensions and textures of the room, and then some testing the matter density, radiation. I mean, one is basically just smelling.” Jemma explained this all to May, who didn’t seem interested.

I watched as Fitz perked up, spinning around. “Whoa whoa, I’ve got something.”

“Who’s got it?” Jemma asked.

“Uh, Bashful.” He pointed.

The drone in the corner of the room was still, persistently scanning a piece of what seemed to be scraps. May eyed me before crossing over and picking things off.

“Surveillance camera. Deep-fried.” May sighed.

“Yes, but that model has flash memory in case of brownouts.” Fitz moved, returning my smile before tripping. He caught himself with a cough. “Now, I could that with data from the motion detectors, and, with a little luck, get some images from before the blast.” He was smiling widely now, plucking the camera from May’s hand. “And by luck, I mean unappreciated genius.” He sighed.

“Yeah, and by the looks of it, we’ll need it. Snow’s reading some compounds that are- whoa, my god.” Jemma scurried to pick something up.

“Explosive?” May incurred.

“Not of this earth.” Jemma was in awe of the alien technology in her hand.

                                                          ***

“Heads up. Your brother is up in the interrogation room sleeping. We needed the asset to think she had the upper hand. Gave him a fake truth serum. He’ll be fine.” Coulson whispered to me as soon as we walked into the bus.

“Oh..kay.” I nodded as May followed him up the stairs.

Jemma began to unpack their samples, filing them neatly.

“You alright?” Fitz’s hand came to my side, pointer finger nudging my pinky.

I nodded with a sigh. “Just tired.” I eyed Jemma through the lab door.

It’s not that I didn’t trust her. Of course I trusted her. She was amazing, and I loved her. But there were things about the topic of Grant and my family that I didn’t share with anybody but Fitz. And even then, there were some things Fitz didn’t know either. I would tell him about my new concerns later.

Fitz caught on, pulling me into his side. I leaned my head against his shoulder and looked up, sighing sadly. He gave me his puppy eyes and I couldn’t help but feel my heart flutter. I tugged at his tie gently, bringing him down to meet me on my toes. He realized and grabbed me by the waist, throwing my balance off so I would fall into his grip as he leaned over me and pressed a kiss to my lips. I hooked one arm around his shoulders and tangled my other hand in his blond curls. He smiled before pulling me back onto my feet, pecking my cheek before taking my hand and leading us to the lab.

                                                          ***

After Fitz-Simmons had finished with their data analysis and whatever else, we trudged up the stairs in silence. Coulson pulled out an ID card and slammed it onto the holotable. It instantly began to scan it. I sighed and leaned over the table, chin in my hand. Fitz came beside me, his hand on my back. I nudged him off and moved over so he would have space to get comfortable. He shot me a smile and settled himself, arms crossed on the edge of the table. I hooked an arm around his shoulders with a sigh.

“Michael Peterson. Factory worker. Married, one kid. Gets injured, gets laid off. Wife jumps ship. Good guy, bad breaks.”

I watched as the girl from Rising Tide—Skye— paced around Coulson, her nails between her teeth. She pulled her finger out and started to flick it past her lips. She was obviously antsy. I wasn’t sure why Coulson would let her out like this, but he always had his reasons.

“Best guess? Somebody comes to him, tells him they can fix him. They can make him strong again, make him super.”

“Who has the tech to do that?” I asked.

“And why would anyone want to?” May followed up.

“Fitz, what do we have from the security footage before the blast?” Coulson asked.

I took my arm away and watched as Fitz wordlessly swiped away, pulling up the footage he had managed to recover up.

“What are we seeing?” May asked.

“Well, the man is angry, at the other man.” Fitz described the very obvious scene. 

I stifled a snort as May glared and Coulson sighed, looking defeated. Skye seemed entertained.

“The data is very corrupt.” Jemma jumped in.

Fitz turned back to the screen, gesturing as he spoke. “Yeah, like Cold War Russia corrupt. I can’t sync the timecode without-”

“What if you had the audio?” Skye cut him off.

Fitz and Jemma glanced at each other, each making a face.

“I was … running surveillance on the lab. I had my shotgun mic pointed at the window before the blast. The digital file’s in my van. There’s too much background noise for me, but you could probably-”

“You could clean that up, right?” I looked up at Fitz.

He nodded. “I would have to find a sync-point and use cross-field validation- no. I can’t scrub for expression patterns…”

“Well, is there a chrominance subcarrier?” Jemma jumped in.

“Yeah, attached to the back porch. Brilliant. Uh, that audio would be great. Thank you very, very much.” Fitz straightened himself out with a smile.

“Your van’s here. But you were right. We couldn’t decrypt the files.” Coulson spoke up.

“The encryption’s coupled to the GPS. Get my van back to that alley and then I’m in business.”

“Agent May will escort you. And on your way out, wake up Ward.” Coulson muttered.

                                                          ***

“Uhh, yep!” I watched Fitz jump from one place to the next after having consistently refused help.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, I’m getting it.” He ran to type something in, sliding the pen between his teeth.

“So, when you get back, I’ll show you my thing. A thing. It’s not-i-it’s my hardware. My equipment!” He turned pink. “Let’s hang up.” He ripped the comm out of his ear in embarrassment.

I caught him by the wrist and yanked him back, grabbing him by the neck and pulling him in for a quick kiss. He returned it happily before switching back to work mode, again jumping around like a monkey.

“So the alien metal wasn’t the explosive?” Coulson asked Jemma.

“Well I assumed from the break pattern and dispersion that it was but, it’s just dripping with gamma radiation and-oh! Now it’s actually dripping!” Jemma exclaimed.

I looked over to see her pull the drill away, a dark yellow substance falling out. She rushed to pull a container under it. “Fun!”

“So what did that get us?” Grant’s footsteps thundered across the floor of the lab as he appeared, freshly showered.

He was angry.

“Morning, sleeping beauty.” I grinned at him.

He rolled his eyes.

“Skye’s sending us the rest of her decrypted files on Centipede, but we have her audio. I’ve loaded it up.” Fitz scrambled around my brother before coming back to the computer by my side, typing excitedly.

“Nice work.” I heard Coulson speak to Grant, who only rolled his neck before going stiff, staring straight at Coulson.

“Now, using motion estimation, bayesian inference, a beam splitter, and a little diffraction theory, our mystery man-” Fitz hit a few buttons, “Appears.” He grinned as the hologram displayed in the middle of the garage. He was happily perched on the stairs. I slid past Grant’s angry figure and to Fitz, curling my arm around his and leaning against him.

“It’s like magic.” I whispered.

“It is! But it-it’s science.” He grinned.

“Explosives in the case?” Grant asked as the hologram came to life.

“...to please calm down. Just let me check your vitals.” The man in the lab coat was nervous.

“I feel fine. I want to feel more. Where’s the doctor? Where is she!” The other man was antsy, angry, riled up like he was a crackhead.

“If you don’t settle down, I’ll have you sedated.” Lab coat stuttered.

“Where is she?” Crackhead lifted a stool, and something orange glinted on his arm as he swung it down.

“Fitz, stop it. Go back. There was something on his arm.” I patted his arm.

Grant walked up closer as Fitz rewound it. He was eye level with the thing on the man’s arm.

“What does that look like to you?” Coulson asked him.

Grant crossed his arms and sighed. “A centipede.”

“It’s an intravenous filter for his blood.” Jemma popped out of her chair and came to have a closer look. “This goo, sir-very similar to the serum Dr. Erskine developed in the early ‘40s for the-”

“Super soldiers.” I cut her off. “Someone’s out here trying to make the next generation of super soldiers?

“I’m reading alien metal, gamma radiation, the serum. Every known source of superpower thrown in a blender.” Jemma sighed.

“We need to see the origin of the blast. Run it back to from the last point recorded.” Coulson ordered Fitz, who fumbled with the controller.

We all watched as a ball of flames slowly turned back in on itself, getting smaller and smaller until Fitz pulled it even further back. Coulson walked closer as the flames came back to form the man who had the filter.

“Extremis.” Coulson stated.

I looked at Grant, who was already looking at me with the same face of confusion.

The fuck’s that?

What the shit?

I shrugged at him and looked up to Fitz, who had his eyebrows scrunched and his nose crinkled.

“It’s new. Completely unstable.” Coulson went on.

“Poor guy didn’t bring an explosive. He was one.” I sighed, looking back at Fitz, who wrapped an arm around my shoulders with a sad expression.

“And Mike has the same stuff in his system.” Jemma added.

“And judging by his strength level, a lot more.” Grant arched an eyebrow, arms still crossed.

“So any minute now, Mike is gonna..” Fitz gestured with his free hand.

“He’ll take out anyone within a two-block radius.” Jemma exclaimed.

“Well.” Coulson walked to the lab, stopping in front of Grant, whose face was solemn. “You wanted a bomb.”

                                                          ***

We scrambled to get ready, pulling out equipment and guns and then more guns. Grant set up a rifle and began to check it as Coulson looked over papers. Fitz-Simmons were downstairs trying to link the explosion to behavior. I stayed with Grant, cleaning off my knife before tucking it into the holster at my waist.

“Sir?” Jemma led the way up the stairs. “He didn’t explode because he was angry. The two are connected. It’s kind of a chemical surge, but calming him down will buy him a minute at most. He will detonate within the next few hours.” She frowned.

“Solution?” Coulson trained his hands on his hips.

“Isolate him? Get him away from people?” Jemma offered.

“Or?”

I caught Fitz’s somber glance.

“Or put a bullet through his brain.” I sighed from my spot on the table.

“If he’s dead, the irradiated metabolic process will stop.” Jemma explained.

We all turned to Grant, who was happily wiping away at his deadly machine. I looked at Coulson and shook my head.

“We need to come up with a third option. One that doesn’t involve Mike’s son losing a father.” Coulson was firm.

“We have a couple of hours at most, there’s no way we could possibly-”

I watched as Coulson whipped around and cut Jemma off with a growl. “Don’t ever tell me there’s no way! It’s on you. Get it done.” He yelled, looking Fitz-Simmons in the eyes before walking away.

“Fitz! What about the night-night gun? You can make it work, right? You’re close enough to figuring it out as it is.” I called.

He turned and looked at me, nodding with a growing grin on his face. He walked over and pressed a kiss to my lips with a smile. He mumbled a thank you before bolting back downstairs. Grant sent me a glance as he picked up his weapon, positioning it in the crook of his arm.

That’s gross.

I checked my handgun before sliding it into the holster at my hip and shot him a similar look.

Like you and your high-school girlfriends were any different.

Coulson stormed back in, picking up his phone the second it started to ring.

“May.” He paused. “You alright?” He put her on speaker.

“We’ll deal with that later. At length. Right now we need to figure out where they went.” She growled.

Grant picked the tablet off the table and started to swipe. I sighed and hopped off the table, making my way to the lab.

                                                          ***

“Come on, gimme more paralysis. Less rigor mortis!” Fitz shouted, frustrated. “Oh, come on! No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no!”

“Just pretend it’s a test.” I gingerly rubbed one of his shoulders as his hands twitched above the keyboard.

“She’s right! You’re just taking an exam. That’s all.” Jemma said cheerily.

“I don’t want an F. F equals a massacre.” He began to breathe heavily, panicked.

“Hey. It’s okay, angel face.” I rubbed his back and he pressed his head into my chest, groaning with more frustration.

Beeping from his computer brought Jemma out of her seat. “Oh no.” I muttered as Grant coming down the stairs with an angry look on his face.

This isn’t what I signed up for.

I ignored him.

“What is this nonsense? Why are you making nonsense?” Jemma panicked.

“This isn’t me! This is noise! Somebody’s hacking our secure channel!” Fitz yelped.

“It’s longitude and latitude!” I perked up.

“Mike took Skye. She’s telling us where.” Coulson explained, clicking the remote in his hand.

Grant took the keys and got in the car, slamming the door. Fitz pulled up a satellite and matched the coordinates. I popped in my earpiece and tapped it.

“Grant. She’s outside Union Station.” I spoke.

“Got it.” I heard in my ear. “Violet, your friends better pull through before this guy explodes.”

I sighed and watched as Coulson got in the car and Grant stopped talking.

“I know, bud. I know.”

                                                          ***

“Grant!” I caught his attention, bounding up the stairs.

“Did he get it?” My brother took the new rifle from my arms, checking it over before setting it up the way the old one was.

“It’s as good as it’s gonna get.” I whispered, watching as Coulson tried to talk Peterson down.

Coulson took a step closer, and Mike twitched.

“Grant. He’s almost there.”

“Coulson’s in the way.” He grunted.

Mike’s face relaxed and he slouched off to the side. I looked at Grant with wide eyes, and he took the shot. I watched as Fitz-Simmons ran to Mike, making sure he was still breathing after he had collapsed onto the floor. Jemma let out a smile and Fitz caught me eye, a happy glow on his face. I tilted my head, to which he gave me a thumbs up and winked. Coulson and Grant exchanged a look. Grant smiled.

He caught me looking at him and I felt my eyes begin to water.

It’s okay, Vi. I’m here now.

I had missed him more than I had realized. He put the gun down to his side and wrapped an arm around me, sighing sadly. I buried my head into his shoulder and held back a sob. Maybe now we could put our small family back together.

                                                          ***

I felt Fitz’s chest hit my back as he leaned over me to steal my food. I rolled my eyes with a smile and handed him my chopsticks. He pressed his lips to the side of my head. Grant had the computer open in front of him, rubbing his eyes as he ran through the latest S.H.I.E.L.D. notifications. Jemma handed me a beer as Fitz settled behind me and I leaned against him.

“Shit.” Grant swore.

“What is it?” Jemma asked.

Grant only pulled out his phone and dialed a number.

“Sir? We’ve got an 0-8-4.”

We looked at each other and I moved up to read over Grant’s shoulder.

“They want us to go in and confirm it.”

I patted Grant’s back. This mission really was going to be a mystery. He sighed and mumbled a reply to Coulson before hanging up the phone, shoving the laptop away and digging into his food. Fitz had repositioned himself behind me, now on the edge of his chair, leaning against the wall of the bus. He reached a hand out lazily, fingers barely brushing my waist. I gave him a small smile over my shoulder before scooting closer, letting him pull me to sit between his legs. I put my weight against him, taking up the front edge of his seat as I looked up at him, head against his shoulder.

“Did they say what it was? The 0-8-4?” Fitz asked Grant as I grabbed his hand, tracing my fingers over his.

“Nope.” He spoke through his last mouthful, choking it down. “I’m gonna go take a shower. I’ll catch you guys later.” He became evasive as he excused himself, tossing his carton before rushing out with his laptop.

I sighed, looking back up at Fitz.

“I’m sorry, Vi.” He kissed my forehead.

I sighed, pulling my legs up to my chest as he curled his arm around my shoulders. I placed my hand on his thigh, palm-up. He linked his fingers between mine.

“Maybe I’m just reading him wrong.” I shrugged.

“I don’t think so.” Jemma spoke up. “Not to interject, a-and I don’t know Grant all that well, but your worry seems reasonable. Something about his behavior is sort of strange.”

I nodded against Fitz’s shoulder. “Something’s off. He’s angry about having been supposedly pawned off to Skye, but there’s more. He didn’t hesitate before shooting Mike. I get he’s a field agent, but he should have hesitated. He didn’t know if the night-night gun worked. A-and the way he’s been acting about Leo? Totally off. He’s been out of my life for eleven years. The first thing he should do after realizing you’re my boyfriend is try to intimidate you. He’s just been a douchebag. He should be asking me about you, not skipping straight to being pissed off.”

Fitz-Simmons nodded, somber looks on both their faces. I only shook my head.

“He’s different. I just don’t know how.” I sighed again.

“I’m sorry, love.” Jemma gave me her most sympathetic gaze.

I returned a half smile and she excused herself to work on something in the lab. I stayed against Fitz, comfortable even though we were both balancing on the same seat.

“Come on, darlin’. I know what’ll make you feel better.” He gave my hand a squeeze, leading me through the hall once I slid off the seat.

“Leo, honey. Please tell me you’re not trying to get in my pants while I’m worried my brother’s had a psychotic break.” I whined as he pulled me into our bedroom, which was barely unpacked.

“God, no. I wouldn’t stoop that low. I thought taking a nap might help.” He moved our bags onto the floor.

I broke into a smile as he came back to me, hands pulling at my waist as we moved toward the bed. He stumbled as he kicked his shoes off before falling onto his back, yanking me to lay next to him. I pushed my shoes off and curled up to him, giggling. His legs were hanging half off the bed and the pillows were nowhere near our heads, but he seemed content with laying there.

I stayed for a minute before sitting up and pulling myself to stand, tugging my jeans off and tossing them into a corner. I pulled an old flannel out of his closet and changed my top. I caught him staring with a soft smile, arms crossed under his head. I knelt by him on the bed, grabbing his cheek and kissing him.

“Get changed, I wanna nap.” I whispered before pressing my lips against his again.

I pulled back when I had to breathe, laughing at his flushed cheeks. I crawled into the bed, tugging the covers up to my chin as I watched him change into a pair of shorts and a t-shirt and neatly fold his clothes before piling them into a corner. He wormed his way into the bed with me, immediately pulling me into his chest.

“I’ll wake you up in an hour, darlin’. Yeah?” He whispered as I made myself comfortable against him, legs tangled and my arm thrown over his side.

“Okay. Goodnight.” I mumbled sleepily.

I felt him pull my face up and smiled, keeping my eyes closed for the kiss. He rubbed my cheek before letting me resettle into his grip, falling asleep.

#fitz x reader #leopold fitz #leopold fitz x reader #aos #fitz x oc #leopold fitz x oc #grant ward x reader #grant ward x oc #agents of shield #agents of shield imagine #fitz #leo fitz #grant ward #leo fitz x reader #leo fitz x oc #grant ward x sister!reader #grant ward x sister!oc #micaelawrites #my posts #my writing #micwrites

[winchesterbrotherstan]

Supernatural- Phantom Traveler (1.04)

Pairing: N/A, Olive Winchester (OC)

Summary: A demon haunts a plane, Olive and Sam keep having nightmares, the siblings pull off something big, and Dean spits in Death’s face (no not literally)

Warnings: Demons, mentions of plane crashes, screaming, cursing, exorcisms, etc

Word Count: 8391

Dean, Sammy, Dad. All dead. All torn to pieces. Dad, hung up by his neck. Sammy, head thrown backwards, mouth open, nose broken, blood spilling. Dean the worst, wide green eyes such sharp contrast to the red blood speckling his face, overtaking his freckles. I whimpered, feeling his face. He was still warm, so warm. I hadn’t been fast enough, the spirit got to them because I hadn’t been fast enough. It hurt to see them, but Dean was the worst. He had raised me, and now he was dead.

 We had been hunting a spirit that targeted men, especially men with young daughters and younger sisters. It was running rampant, and as much as it was a danger to us, we had to stop it. I felt a cold breath on the back of my neck, and I opened my mouth to scream. A hand slipped in, gripping my tongue and pulling it away, ripping it off. I screamed, but gurgling blood was the only thing that slipped out. Dean’s head twitched, and he looked right at me.

“You aren’t good enough. Face it, kid. You just got us killed.”

I tried to scream again, but this time I could feel my tongue in my mouth. I sat up and sobbed, looking down to my side. Dean was peacefully asleep on his stomach, one arm thrown protectively around me. I struggled to breathe, still crying. The nightmare was jarring, and I felt like I was going to be sick. I felt a hand on my shoulder and I screamed, startled. A hand clapped over my mouth and I was pulled into someone’s grasp. Dean didn’t seem to notice, snoring, unbothered.

“It’s just me!”

I sobbed again, realizing it was Sam. I snuggled into him, wrapping my arms around his torso and squeezing. Sam grunted as he lifted me, trying to get me balanced in his lap. I whimpered again, and he hugged me tighter.

“Shh. You’re okay, bug. You’re okay. I promise. I’ve got you. You’re safe.” Sam ran a hand along my back as I tried to calm my breathing.

“I-i-it it was y-y-you an-and Dad, and De-” I cut off, another sob spilling from my lips as I closed my eyes and saw my oldest brother behind my eyelids, dead.

“He’s okay. I’m okay. Dad’s okay. We’ll find him. We’re right here. We’re not going anywhere.” He whispered.

I sat myself up, looking at Sam’s face. He smiled at me, wiping away my tears and kissing my forehead. I sniffled and rubbed my eyes. I looked over my shoulder at Dean. He was still on his stomach, but was no longer snoring. I caught sight of the red alarm clock on the nightstand. 2:45 AM. I rubbed my eyes again.

“I’m sorry, Sam. Didn’t mean to wake you up.” I whispered, crashing back into his chest.

Sam shook his head. “It’s okay, I was already awake.”

I sat up. “Why?”

He shrugged. “Nightmares keep me up too.”

I threw my arms around his neck and hugged him. “M’sorry, Sams.”

He only wrapped an arm around my waist and kissed my head again. “It’s okay, bug. Do you wanna talk about it?”

I shook my head. “Don’t wanna think about it.” I whined, sounding like a four year old.

He shushed me, trying to soothe me. “It’s okay. That’s okay.”

I finally stopped crying and calmed my breathing down. He rocked me back and forth, trying to get me back to sleep.

“Sammy?” I kept my head tucked under his chin.

“What is it, bug?”

“Can I stay in your bed? Please?”

“Of course you can, bug. C’mere.” He moved backward, pushing the sheets out of the way.

I crawled off his lap and laid down on the side closest to Dean, on my stomach, reaching out for his hand. I barely reached his pinky, hooking my pointer finger around it. I let out a deep breath and closed my eyes. I felt Sam shift next to me, then pull the blankets up to my shoulders. I heard the hum of the TV, then Sam’s fingers in my hair. I was lulled to sleep, feeling Dean scoot close enough to hold my hand in his.

                                                         ***

My eyes opened before my brain turned back on, and I saw Dean sleeping on his stomach, now on the edge of the bed, hand clutching mine. I yawned against the pillow, then turned my head away. I felt Sam’s absence before I noticed it, hand reaching out, only to pat an empty bed. The door opened, and I heard Sam’s heavy footsteps. I relaxed once more, closing my eyes again. Dean groaned, and his hand gripped mine before he sighed, letting me go.

“Morning, sunshine.” Sam scoffed, and I could tell it was directed at Dean.

“What time is it?” He groaned again.

“Uh, it's about 5:45.” Sam noted, placing things down on the edge of the bed, moving my feet aside.

“In the morning?” Dean hissed.

“Yep.”

I heard the springs in Dean’s bed screech. “Did you get any sleep last night?”

“Yeah, I grabbed a couple hours.” Sam sat by me, hand rubbing my back.

“Liar.” Dean scoffed. “Because I was up at three, and Olive was asleep in your bed, and you were watching a George Foreman infomercial.”

Sam’s hand stopped, and then he sighed. “Hey, what can I say? It's riveting TV.”

“When was the last time you got a good night's sleep?” Dean was disgruntled.

“I don't know, a little while, I guess. It's not a big deal.” Sam’s hand came to my hair, and I shifted a little.

“Yeah, it is.”

“Look, I appreciate your concern-”

“Oh, I'm not concerned about you. It's your job to keep my ass alive, so I need you sharp.” Dean sassed.

I yawned, but when I heard Dean begin to speak again, I let my head flop back onto the pillow. Sam shrugged again.

“Seriously, are you still having nightmares about Jess?”

Sam kissed the top of my head before getting up. I groaned and rolled over onto my back. Dean snorted at me, coming to sit by my side. He pushed my hair out of my face, stroking my cheek.

“Yeah. But it's not just her. It's everything. I just forgot, you know? This job. man, it gets to you.” Sam paused. “She woke up last night, crying.”

I could feel Dean staring at me, and his finger came back across my nose. It tickled, and I moved away with a groan.

“You can't let it. You can't bring it home like that.” Dean’s voice was a whisper, and I knew he meant it more for me than for Sam.

“So, what? All this it… never keeps you up at night?” Sam asked.

There was a pause, and Dean pulled my nose between his thumb and pointer finger. I pushed him away, then sat up, kicking the sheets off. I crawled into his lap and dropped my head against his neck.

“Never? You're never afraid?” Sam asked.

“No, not really.” Dean rubbed my back, the other hand in my hair.

Sam scoffed, and I looked over my shoulder to see him pull the hunting knife from under Dean’s pillow. Dean leaned forward and snatched it back, placing it on the nightstand.

“That’s not fear. That is precaution.”

Sam raised an eyebrow. “Precaution? Olive woke up screaming, and you heard nothing.”

“I heard her. But I saw that you had her, didn’t wanna steal your moment.” Dean shrugged.

“Alright, whatever. I'm too tired to argue.” Sam pulled me from Dean’s lap, sitting me next to him, now on Dean’s bed.

I grumbled, but quickly lit up as Sam handed me a coffee and a brown bag. I looked inside to see a bagel. I smiled and popped up, kissing Sam’s cheek before digging into my breakfast. Dean put down his coffee as his phone rang. He flipped it open, setting it to speaker with a suspicious face.

“Hello?”

“Dean, it's, uh, it's Jerry Panowski. You and your dad helped me out a couple years back.”

Dean looked at me, eyebrows furrowed. I racked my brain, trying to remember what I had researched for a Jerry Panowski a few years ago. It clicked, and I pointed at Dean, mouth full of bagel.

“Poltergeist, Pennsylvania.” I mumbled.

Dean nodded. “Oh, right, yeah. Up in Kittanning, Pennsylvania, the poltergeist thing. It's not back, is it?”

“No. No. Thank god, no. But it's something else, and… uh, I think it could be a lot worse.”

“What is it?”

Jerry hesitated. “Can we talk in person?”

Dean looked at me, and I shrugged. He then looked to Sam, who looked back. I stuffed the rest of the bagel in my mouth and headed to the bathroom to change.

                                                        ***

“Thanks for making the trip so quick. I ought to be doing you guys a favor, not the other way around. Dean and your dad really helped me out.” Jerry spoke to Sam and I.

“Yeah, I heard. It was a poltergeist?”

“Poltergeist? Man, I loved that movie.” A worker passed by.

“Hey, nobody's talking to you. Keep walking.” Jerry hissed at the man. “Damn right it was a poltergeist, practically tore our house apart. Tell you something, if it wasn't for you and your dad, I probably wouldn't be alive.”

“Well, Olive did a lot of the research for that. She did that before she started hunts.” Dean cut in, hand on my shoulder.

Jerry nodded, impressed. “Nice, nice, thank you very much. Sam, your dad said you were off at college. Is that right?”

Sam tensed. “Yeah, I was. I'm… taking some time off.”

Jerry smiled. “Well, he was real proud of you. I could tell. He talked about you all the time.”

Sam looked up. “He did?”

Jerry nodded. “Yeah, you bet he did. Oh, hey, you know I tried to get a hold of him, but I couldn't. How's he doing, anyway?”

Dean tensed too. “He's, um, wrapped up in a job right now.”

“Well, we’re missing the old man but we get Sam and Olive. Even trade, huh?”

Dean laughed, ruffling my hair.

“No, not by a long shot.” Sam scoffed off.

I elbowed him. “Speak for yourself, I’m an even trade.” I laughed.

He smiled, pushing me by the forehead.

“Listen, I got something I want you guys to hear.” Jerry laughed at us, leading us to his office.

“I listened to this, and, well… it sounded like it was up your alley.” He held a CD in his hand, then popped it into the drive. “Normally I wouldn't have access to this. It's the cockpit voice recorder for United Britannia flight 2485. It was one of ours.”

The recording was staticky, and it gave me the creeps. Dean noticed, pulling me against him and wrapping his arms around me as we listened.

“Mayday! Mayday! Repeat! This is United Britannia 2485—immediate instruction help! United Britanis 2485, I copy your message—May be experiencing some mechanical failure…”

The recording ended with a loud whoosh, and I shivered.

“Took off from here, crashed about two hundred miles south. Now, they're saying mechanical failure. Cabin depressurized somehow. Nobody knows why. Over a hundred people on board. Only seven got out alive. Pilot was one. His name is Chuck Lambert. He's a good friend of mine. Chuck is, uh… well, he's pretty broken up about it. Like it was his fault.” Jerry frowned.

“You don’t think it was?” I looked up from Dean’s hold.

“No, I don't.” Jerry shook his head at me.

“Jerry, we're gonna need passenger manifests, um, a list of survivors.” Sam smiled politely.

Jerry nodded. “Alright.”

“And, uh… any way we could take a look at the wreckage?” Dean tried.

“The other stuff is no problem. But the wreckage… kids, the NTSB has it locked down in an evidence warehouse.” He shook his head again. “No way I’ve got that kind of clearance.”

Dean looked at me and pouted, thinking as he squinted. I smiled. We would figure it out. He nodded, then looked back up to Jerry with a smile.

“Won’t be a problem.”

                                                        ***

Sam and I were waiting outside a Copy Jack. A blonde girl walked in as Dean walked out, and he looked her up and down with a flirty grin.

“Hey.” She smiled.

“Hi.” He grinned.

“Dad! Hurry up, Mom’s waiting for us at home!” I called out to him, smiling from my perch on the hood of the car.

The woman made a face before ducking into the store. Dean came over and flicked my forehead.

“Ow!” I whined, squirming away.

“Aw, I’m sorry.” He rubbed my face with his entire hand.

“You've been in there forever.” Sam sighed.

Dean only held up three IDs, handing one to me and another to Sam.

“You can’t rush perfection.” Dean shrugged.

“Homeland Security?” I looked up with wide eyes.

“Homeland Security.” Sam echoed. “That’s pretty illegal, even for us.”

Dean held his arms out and gestured for me to get off the car. I crossed my arms over my chest and shook my head, squinting at him. Dean sighed but picked me up anyways, setting me on his hip as he walked around to the drivers side.

“Yeah, well, it's something new. You know? People haven't seen it a thousand times.” Dean set me down in the seat, and I inched to the middle, sighing as my brothers piled in next to me.

“Alright, so what do you two nerds got?”

“Well, there’s definitely EVP on the cockpit voice recorder.” I fished the tape from my pocket and handed it to Sam.

“Yeah?” Dean started the car.

“Listen.” Sam stuck it into the player.

“No survivors!” The voice hissed.

Dean looked confused. “No survivors? What's that supposed to mean? There were seven survivors.”

Sam shrugged. “Got me.”

“So, what are you thinking? Haunted flight?”

“Well, there is a long history of spirits and death omens on planes and ships, kinda like phantom travelers.” I explained.

Dean listened, but scoffed. “Nerd.���

“Or, remember Flight 401?” Sam asked.

Dean nodded. “Right. The one that crashed, the airline salvaged some of its parts, put it in other planes, then the spirit of the pilot and copilot haunted those flights.” Dean scratched his head.

“Right.” I nodded. “Maybe we’ve got a similar deal.”

“Alright, so, survivors, which one do you want to talk to first?” Dean leaned back, throwing an arm around the back of the seat.

“Third on the list, Max Jaffey.”

“Why?” Dean tilted his head.

“Well, one, he’s from around here. Two, if anyone saw anything… weird…” Sam and I shared a look. “It was him.”

“What makes you say that?”

“Well, I spoke to his mother.” I smiled.

“And she told her where to find him.” Sam finished.

                                                        ***

“I don’t understand. I already spoke with Homeland Security.” Jaffey shook his head, hobbling around on his cane.

“Right. Well, some new information has come up.” I spoke.

“So if you could just answer a couple questions…” Dean shrugged.

“Just before the plane went down, did you notice anything… unusual?” Sam asked.

“Like what?”

“Strange lights, weird noises, maybe. Voices?”

“No, nothing.” He shook his head.

“Mr. Joffey-”

“Jaffey.” It was a snarl.

“Right, Mr. Jaffey.” I stepped between him and Dean. “You checked yourself in here, right?” The only response I got was a nod. “Can we ask why?”

“I was a little stressed. I survived a plane crash.”

“Uh huh. And that's what terrified you? That's what you were afraid of?” Dean asked.

“I…” He looked from Dean to me, then Sam. “I don't want to talk about this anymore.”

“See, I think maybe you did see something up there. We need to know what.” Dean pressed.

“No. No, I was … I was delusional. Seeing things.” Jaffey shook his head.

“He was seeing things.” Dean repeated, looking at me.

I elbowed his side. “It’s okay. Just tell us what you saw. Please.” I coaxed.

“There was this… this man. And, uh, he had uh..” He moved his hands toward his eyes. “These eyes these, uh… black eyes. Entirely black. And I saw him… or I thought I saw him…”

“What?” Dean asked.

Jaffey said nothing, and I sighed.

“Mr. Jaffey, please. Anything you could tell us would help.”

“He opened the emergency exit. But that's… that's impossible, right? I mean, I looked it up. There's something like two tons of pressure on that door.” Jaffey shook his head.

“Yeah.” Dean nodded.

“This man, uh… did he seem to appear and disappear rapidly? It would look something like a mirage.” Sam asked, describing a spirit.

“What are you, nuts?” Jaffey scoffed.

Sam and I looked at each other and Dean raised his eyebrows.

“I… I’m sorry, what? What do you mean?”

Jaffey scoffed. “Are you guys sure you’re Homeland Security? I mean look at yourself. You look twelve.” He eyed me.

“Hey.” Dean’s voice was gruff, and he was done waiting around. “You’re not the one who’s asking the questions here. Answer her.”

“He was a passenger. He was sitting right in front of me.”

I looked up at Sam, and then over to Dean. He looked pale.

                                                        ***

“Here we are. George Phelps, seat 20C.” Sam looked up from his notepad.

“Hmm.” Dean squinted as he put the car in park and got out, pulling me with him. “Man, I don’t care how strong you are. Even yoked up on PCP or something, no way you can open up an emergency door during a flight.” Dean scoffed.

“Not if you’re human. But maybe this guy was something else. Maybe a skinwalker, a familiar. A shifter.” I listed the only things that came to mind.

“Some kind of creature, in human form.” Sam concluded.

“Does that look like a creature's lair to you?” Dean gestured to the ordinary house in front of us.

Sam and I looked at each other and sighed.

                                                        ***

“This is your late husband?” I asked, looking at the framed photo in Sam’s hand.

“Yes, that was my George.” Mrs. Phelps smiled sadly.

“And you said he was a… dentist?” Dean was trying his best to be polite.

“Mhm. He was headed to a convention in Denver. Do you know that he was petrified to fly? For him to go like that…” She sighed.

“How long were you married?” Sam asked.

“Thirteen years.”

“In all that time, did you ever notice anything… strange about him? Anything out of the ordinary?” I suggested.

“Well…” She thought, then perked up. “He had acid reflux, if that’s what you mean.”

The boys and I only looked at each other.

                                                        ***

“I mean it goes without saying. It just doesn't make any sense.” Sam sighed as we walked down the steps of the house.

“A middle-aged dentist with an ulcer is not exactly evil personified. You know what we need to do is get inside that NTSB warehouse, check out the wreckage.” Dean pressed.

“Okay.” Sam gave in. “But if we’re gonna go that route, we’d better look the part.”

Dean looked at me and scowled.

                                                        ***

Sam fixed his collar, then adjusted the tie around my neck. He smiled at me, smoothing my hair out and kissing the top of my head.

“Man, I look like one of the Blues Brothers.” Dean grunted, fixing his tie.

I shook my head as I looked at him and Sam laughed.

“No, you don't. You look more like a… seventh-grader at his first dance.”

Dean looked down at himself and groaned.

“I hate this thing.” He grumbled.

I laughed. “You look cute!”

He rolled his eyes at me and Sam laughed too. “Hey. You want into that warehouse or not?”

Dean glared at us as we climbed into the car. Dean flicked my head as he started the car.

                                                        ***

Dean flashed his badge first, followed by Sam’s and mine. The security guard eyed me, squinting.

“Trainee. Top of her class.” Sam stepped in front of me.

The security guard seemed to shrug to himself before letting us into the warehouse. The door slammed shut behind us, and Dean grinned, pulling out his EMF meter.

“What the fuck is that?” Sam asked as Dean popped an earbud in.

“It’s an EMF meter.” Dean eyed him. “Reads electromagnetic frequencies.”

Sam waved him off, “Yeah, I know what an EMF meter is, but why does that one look like a busted-up walkman?”

Dean smiled proudly. “Because that’s what I made it out of.” He moved it Sam’s way. “It’s homemade.”

Sam sighed. “Yeah, I can see that.”

Dean’s smile fell as he ran the EMF meter over a piece of the wreckage. I noticed yellow dust that looked kind of like tumeric. I ran a finger along it and looked at it. Dean’s EMF meter spiked, and I shook the powder off my finger.

“The fuck is this stuff?” I turned to Sam.

“Language.” He flicked my head before pulling out a plastic baggie. “Only one way to find out.”

He scraped some into the bag. There was a bustling outside the door, and Dean and I looked at each other. Someone shouted an order, and Dean grabbed me by the back of the neck, tugging me down as we scrambled out of the building. We made it through the back and the alarms went off. Dean looked around the corner of the building before pulling me behind him, Sam following. We made it to the barbed wire fence, and Dean threw his suit jacket over it. He patted my shoulder.

“You first.”

I grunted as I clambered over the fence, Sam following, Dean last. I winced, trying to keep my weight off my ankle. It hadn’t healed right, and sometimes things made it hurt. For example, climbing over fences.

“Well, these monkey suits do come in handy.” Dean grinned at me before yanking the jacket back and running.

Sam and I scoffed before following.

                                                        ***

Jerry had his eye up to the microscope, which was replicated onto his computer screen.

“Huh. This stuff is covered in sulfur.” Jerry pulled back and looked at us.

Sam and I went wide eyed, looking right at each other. I gulped, and Dean tensed.

“You're sure?” Sam asked.

Jerry nodded, gesturing toward the microscope. “Take a look for yourself.”

Banging resonated from outside the office, and I jumped about a foot in the air. Dean put his hands on my shoulders as someone cursed outside.

“If you kids will excuse me, I have an idiot to fire.” Jerry nodded before heading for the door.

Dean looked into the microscope and hummed, scratching his head. He looked at me and nodded toward it. I sighed and looked through, only to see yellow.

“You know, there's not too many things that leave behind a sulfuric residue.” I winced.

“Demonic possession?” Sam suggested.

Dean shrugged. “It would explain how a mortal man would have the strength to open up an emergency hatch.”

“De’s right. It the guy was possessed, it's possible.” I pushed myself up to sit on the desk.

Dean shuddered, leaning beside me. “This goes way beyond floating over a bed or barfing pea soup. I mean… it's one thing to possess a person, but to use them to take down an entire airplane?”

“Sams, you ever heard of something like this before?” I turned to the tall boy.

He shook his head. “Never.”

                                                        ***

I rubbed my eyes as I stepped out of the bathroom, just showered. Sam and Dean were in full research mode. Sam was on his laptop, and Dean was strewn over a bed, reading a paper. There were pictures and articles taped onto the walls, and a few books on religion were piled on the other bed.

I sighed and padded toward Sam, wrapping my arms around him from behind, dropping my cheek onto his shoulder. He had the Wikipedia page on demons in Japanese culture open.

“So, every religion in every world culture has the concept of demons and demonic possession, right? I mean Christian, Native American, Hindu, you name it.” Sam didn’t look back as he spoke.

“Yeah.” I nodded.

“Yeah, but none of them describe anything like this.” Dean sighed.

“Well, that's not exactly true. You see, according to Japanese beliefs, certain demons are behind certain disasters, both natural and man-made. One causes earthquakes, another causes disease.” I read off the screen.

“And this one causes plane crashes?” Dean asked. He came to our side, leaning against the table. “Alright, so, what? We have a demon that's evolved with the times and found a way to ratchet up the body count?”

“Yeah. You know, who knows how many planes it's brought down before this one?” Sam looked up with concern in his eyes.

Dean snorted before looking away.

“De?” I stood, detangling myself from Sam.

“I dunno, guys. This isn’t our normal gig. I mean… demons, they don’t want anything besides death a-and destruction for its own sake.” His eyes landed on me and he frowned. “This is big. I wish Olive wasn’t here. And I wish Dad was.”

I looked to the floor. I knew Dean wanted me out of the way for my own protection, but it still stung to hear the words leave his mouth.

“Yeah. I wish he was too.” Sam looked back at his computer.

Dean caught the look on my face as I shuffled to the bed, picking up one of the books. He sat next to me.

“Sweetie, that’s not what I meant.”

“I know.” I mumbled, flipping through the book.

He put his hand down, stopping me from reading. He looked at me with regret on his face and licked his lips. His phone rang before he could say anything. He sighed before answering.

“Hello?”

I tried to pry his hand away, but he kept it firm, shooting me a look.

“Oh, hey, Jerry.”

I sighed and pulled the book away, dropping it onto the bed. I wrapped my arms around Dean’s and scooted closer, dropping my cheek onto his shoulder and looking up at him. His face changed and he swallowed.

“Wh- Jerry, I'm sorry. What happened?”

Sam turned around and I inched closer, trying to hear Jerry on the other end.

“Where'd this happen?”

“About sixty miles west of here, near Nazareth.”

“I'll try to ignore the irony in that.” Dean’s freckled face grew a smile.

“I'm sorry?”

Same, Jerry, same.

“Nothing. Jerry, hang in there, all right? We'll catch up with you soon.” Dean squeezed my hand before hanging up.

“Another crash?” I perked up.

“Yeah.” He squeezed my hand again, and I let go. “Let's go.”

“Where?” Sam stood.

“Nazareth.”

                                                        ***

“Sulfur?” I asked.

Jerry was looking through the microscope again. Dean was sitting next to me, on the desk, and Sam was in the chair in front us. I had my feet propped up on the back edge of his seat, arms slung over his shoulders. Jerry nodded.

“Well, that's great. All right, that's two plane crashes involving Chuck Lambert. This demon sounds like it was after him.” Dean mumbled.

“With all due respect to Chuck, if that's the case, that would be the good news.” Sam looked up.

“What's the bad news?”

“Chuck's plane went down exactly forty minutes into flight. And get this, so did flight 2485.” I turned to look at Dean, whose face fell.

“Forty minutes? What does that mean?”

Dean sighed. “It's biblical numerology. You know, Noah's Ark, it rained for forty days. The number means death.”

“Sam and I went back, and there have been six plane crashes over the last decade that all went down exactly forty minutes in.” I informed.

“Any survivors?” Dean asked.

Sam shook his head. “No. Or not until now, at least, not until flight 2485, for some reason.”

I pieced things together, then looked back to Dean. “On the cockpit voice recorder, remember what the EVP said?”

“No survivors.”

I nodded, and realization was visible on Sam’s face. 

“It's going after all the survivors.”

Dean sighed. “It's trying to finish the job.”

                                                        ***

Sam’s face seemed to play the role his voice was acting. “Really? Well, thank you for taking our survey, And if you do plan to fly, please don't forget your friends at United Britannia Airlines. Thanks.”

His smile dropped the minute he hung up the phone.

“Alright. That takes care of Blaine Sanderson and Dennis Holloway. They're not flying anytime soon.” I looked at Dean, who was driving.

“So our only wildcard is the flight attendant Amanda Walker.”

“Right. Her sister Karen said her flight leaves Indianapolis at eight pm. It's her first night back on the job.” Sam spoke.

“That sounds like just our luck.” Dean groaned.

“De, this is a five-hour drive, even with you behind the wheel.” I grimaced.

“Call Amanda's cell phone again, see if we can't head her off at the pass.”

“Already left her three voice messages. She must have turned her cellphone off.” Sam sighed. “God, we're never gonna make it.”

Dean sighed and looked at me, then slammed the brakes, throwing the car in park. He got out, pulling me with him. He slid back in, taking my spot. I grinned as I shut the door and put the car in drive. Dean looked at Sam.

“Dean, she’s fifteen.”

“Hey, at least we’ll make it.”

                                                        ***

I pulled into the first parking spot I saw and turned the car off, shoving the keys into Dean’s hand. He got out right after me, heading right for the airport.

“Hey! Whoa, whoa, whoa.” Sam stopped him.

Dean looked back at us and furrowed his eyebrows.

“Dude, we’re about to walk into an airport.” 

Dean shook his head, and Sam shook his back. Dean scowled, shaking his head again. I only giggled as I pulled the knives from my belt and my ankle. Sam sighed at me, and I grinned before pulling out the last knife from the holster strapped against the small of my back. I tossed it into Baby’s trunk.

Dean followed suit, piling a small gun and more knives into the car. Sam stood, weight rested on one hip, arms crossed over his chest. Dean finished and slammed the trunk shut with a frown.

“I feel naked.” Dean hissed.

Sam and I grinned at each other. Dean scowled once more, pulling me to walk as he headed for the airport once more.

We picked up the pace when we realized the time. We ran into the airport, and I stopped at the departure board, both boys running into me.

“Right there!” Sam pointed above my head. “They’re boarding in thirty minutes.”

Dean nodded. “Okay. We still have some cards to play. We need to find a phone.”

I pointed to the white courtesy phone right next to us. Dean blinked at me before picking it up.

“Hi. Gate thirteen.”

Sam and I looked at each other, nervous.

“I'm trying to contact an Amanda Walker. She's a flight attendant on flight, um…” Green eyes came my way.

Four two four, I mouthed as I held my fingers up with corresponding numbers.

“Flight 424.” He blurted. “Come on.” He mumbled, tapping his fingers. His face lit up and he cleared his throat. “Miss Walker. Hi, this is Dr. James Hetfield from St. Francis Memorial Hospital. We have a Karen Walker here.”

“Nothing serious, just a minor car accident, but she was injured, so-”

Dean paused and his face went pale.”You what?”

Sam and I looked at each other again. Sam lifted me onto his hip so I would be level with Dean. We leaned in, trying to hear Amanda.

“Uh, well… there must be some mistake.” Dean sputtered.

“And how would you even know I was here? Is this one of Vince's friends?”

Dean looked at us. Sam shrugged, and I nodded. A grin grew on Dean’s face.

“Guilty as charged.”

“Wow.” She scoffed. “This is unbelievable.”

“He's really sorry.”

“Well, you tell him to mind his own business and stay out of my life, okay?”

“Yes, but… he really needs to see you tonight, so-”

“No, I'm sorry. It's too late.” She cut him off.

“Don't be like that. Come on. The guy's a mess. Really. It's pathetic.” Dean struggled.

“Really?”

Dean nodded as if she could see him. “Oh, yeah.”

“Look, I've got to go. Um… tell him to call me when I land.”

“No, no. Wait, Amanda. Amanda!”

The dial tone rang.

“Damn it! So close.” Dean hissed, slamming the phone down.

“Thank you for flying United Britannia Airlines.” A robotic voice came over the intercom, and Sam sighed.

“Alright, it's time for plan B. We're getting on that plane.”

“Whoa, whoa, now just hold on a second.” Dean’s eyes went wide and his skin went pale.

“Dean, that plane is leaving with over a hundred passengers on board, and if we're right, that plane is gonna crash.” Sam whispered.

“I know.” Dean frowned and I sighed as Sam continued.

“Okay. So we're getting on the plane, we need to find that demon and exorcise it. I'll get the tickets. You and Ollie get whatever you can out of the trunk. Whatever that will make it through the security. Meet me back here in five minutes.”

Dean only looked at him, eyebrows knitted together. I avoided Sam’s stare.

“Are you okay?” He then looked to me. “Is he okay?”

“No, not really.” Dean mumbled.

“What? What's wrong?” Sam’s eyes grew wide with concern.

“Well, I kind of have this problem with, uh…”

“Flying?”

“It’s never really been an issue until now.” Dean practically pouted.

“You're joking, right?”

“Do I look like I’m joking? Why do you think I drive everywhere, Sam?”

“Alright. Uh…” Sam blinked. “You and Olive stay. I’ll go.”

“What?”

“No!”

Dean and I spoke at the same time.

“I'll do this one on my own.” Sam shrugged.

“What are you, nuts? You said it yourself, the plane's gonna crash.” Dean hissed, eyes so wide I thought they would pop out of his head.

“Dean, we can do it together, or I can do this one by myself. I'm not seeing a third option, here.”

“Uh, hi, I’m right here.” I glared up at Sam.

“Oh fuck no. You’re not both getting on that plane.” Dean grunted.

Sam and I looked at each other.

“If Sam’s going, so am I.”

“Oh, please. You two haven’t ever worked alone together.” Dean argued.

Sam and I snorted. “Dean, we successfully evaded cops.”

“And we got your ass out of jail.” Sam rose an eyebrow.

“We’re getting on the plane, Dean. Sammy, go get tickets, I’ll get the gear.” I patted Sam’s arm before turning on my heel.

“Come on! Really?” Dean called after me, but realized I wouldn’t budge. “Man…”

                                                        ***

I was, as usual, sandwiched between my brothers. Sam has the window seat, and Dean was in the aisle seat. He was reading the safety card, and I was leaning against Sam, reading the book in his lap.

“Just try to relax.” He tried to soothe Dean.

“Just try to shut up.” Dean hissed.

Sam rolled his eyes and we turned our attention back to the book. We were sure this one would contain a way to exorcise the demon, but we had yet to find a solid one that wouldn’t get us all killed. The plane took off, and Dean grew even more tense, jumping at each sound. Sam smirked and I hit his side, suppressing a smile. Dean leaned back in his seat and began to hum.

“You're humming Metallica?” Sam asked.

Dean had his eyes shut. “Calms me down.”

“Look, man, I get you're nervous, all right? But you gotta stay focused.” Sam instructed.

Dean nodded, taking a deep breath before opening his eyes. “Okay.”

“I mean, we got thirty-two minutes and counting to track this thing down, or whoever it's possessing, anyway, and perform a full-on exorcism.” Sam went on.

“Yeah, on a crowded plane. That's gonna be easy.” Dean scoffed, eyes closing again.

“Hey, hey, hey. It’s gonna be okay. Promise. Just take it one step at a time, all right? Now, who is it possessing?” I moved from being latched onto Sam’s arm to Dean’s. 

“It's usually gonna be somebody with some sort of weakness, you know, a chink in the armor that the demon can worm through. Somebody with an addiction or some sort of emotional distress.” Dean was calmer when he was thinking.

“Well, this is Amanda's first flight after the crash. If I were her, I'd be pretty messed up.” I offered.

Dean mumbled an agreement as a flight attendant passed.

“Excuse me. Are you Amanda?”

“No, I'm not.” She shook her head.

“Oh, my mistake.”

She only smiled and went on. Dean looked back, then sighed.

“Alright, well, that's got to be Amanda back there, so I'll go talk to her, and, uh, I'll get a read on her mental state.” Dean shifted.

“Wait, De, what if she's already possessed?” I grabbed his wrist.

He grinned. “There's ways to test that.” He pulled a bottle of water out of his bag. “I brought holy water.”

“No.” Sam hissed.

I sighed and Sam snatched the bottle, hiding it in the pocket of his hoodie.

“You gotta be subtle, dumbass. If she’s possessed, she should flinch at the name of God.” I whispered. 

“Oh. Nice.”

“It’s the name of Christ, not God.” Sam corrected me. “Hey.” He called Dean back.

“Say it in Latin.”

“I know.” Dean turned again.

“Okay. Hey!”

“What?” Dean hissed.

“Uh… in Latin, it’s Christo.”

“Dude, I know! I'm not an idiot!” Dean snarled before making his way to the back of the plane.

I watched as he hit an empty seat after the entire plane shook. He disappeared behind a set of blue curtains, and I turned back to Sam.

“I think we’ve got one.” He tilted the book toward me.

I read over it and shrugged. “Don’t see why not. Sounds simple enough.”

“You’ll read both parts, I’ll help Dean hold him down?”

I nodded. “I can do that. You sure you’re gonna be okay?”

He nodded, giving me puppy eyes. “The further away you are from it, the better.”

I smiled and leaned back into him. I felt him laugh as he wrapped an arm around my shoulders. Dean flopped down next to me, sighing.

“Alright, well, she's got to be the most well-adjusted person on the planet.”

I sat up. “You said Christo?”

Dean nodded.

“And?” Sam leaned forward.

Dean shook his head, again panicked. “There's no demon in her. There's no demon getting in her.”

“So, if it's on the plane, it can be anyone. Anywhere.” Sam sighed.

The plane shook before any of us could say anything, and Dean hit the armrest, knuckles white and teeth clenched.

“Come on! That can't be normal!”

“Hey, hey, it's just a little turbulence.” Sam shushed.

“Sam, this plane is going to crash, okay? So quit treating me like I'm friggin' four.” Dean growled.

“Dean. You need to calm down.” I spoke in a smaller voice.

“Well, I'm sorry I can't.” Dean was gentler with me, but still stressed.

“Yes, you can.” Sam tried.

“Dude, stow the touchy-feely, self-help yoga crap, it's not helping.” Dean’s voice was a hiss again.

“De, he’s right. You have to. You’re panicked, and you’re wide open to being possessed. So you need to calm down right now.” I squeezed his hand.

Dean looked at me before taking a long and slow breath. I hugged his arm, satisfied with the effort.

“Good. Now, I found an exorcism in here that we think is gonna work. The Rituale Romanum.” Sam lifted the book.

“What do we have to do?” Dean sighed.

“It's two parts. The first part expels the demon from the victim's body. It makes it manifest, which actually makes it more powerful.” I explained.

Dean made a face. “More powerful?”

Sam and I nodded.

“How?”

“Well, it doesn't need to possess someone anymore. It can just wreak havoc on its own.” Sam shrugged.

“Oh. And why is that a good thing?” Dean squinted.

I smiled widely. “Well, because the second part sends the fucker back to hell once and for all.”

Sam flicked my ear, and I smacked his hand away as Dean stood.

“First things first, we gotta find it.”

He pulled out his EMF meter and was slow, walking up the aisle and moving it around. He got a bunch of weird looks, and Sam and I ignored the glare of an old woman. Sam clapped Dean’s shoulders, and the oldest boy jumped.

“Ah! Don't do that.”

“Anything?” I asked, stuck between them.

“No, nothing. How much time we got?”

Sam glanced at his watch. “Fifteen minutes. Maybe we missed somebody.”

“Maybe the thing's just not on the plane.” Dean mumbled.

“You believe that?” I cocked my head.

“Well, I will if you will.” He scoffed.

The EMF meter spiked in his hand, and he hit it to turn it off. I looked up to see the copilot leave the bathroom and head back to the cockpit.

“What? What is it?” Sam asked Dean, who only stared with wide eyes.

“Christo.” I whispered.

The copilot turned slowly. His eyes were entirely black. Dean grimaced, nostrils flared. Sam pulled me back, and I gasped as the copilot went back into the cockpit.

Dean pushed us backwards, to Amanda. Sam picked me off my feet so we could move faster.

“She's not gonna believe this.” I spoke from my brother’s hold, feeling like a puppy being carried by the scruff.

“Twelve minutes, guys.” Dean looked at his watch as Sam dropped me to my feet as we walked past the curtain.

“Oh, hi. Flight's not too bumpy for you, I hope.” Amanda smiled warmly.

“Actually, that's kind of what we need to talk to you about.” Dean stepped in, and Sam followed, closing the curtain.

Amanda eyed them cautiously, then looked back to me. “Um, okay. What can I do for you?”

“Alright, this is gonna sound nuts, but we just don't have time for the whole the truth is out there speech right now.” Dean said.

“We know you were on Flight 2485.” I spoke.

Her smile dropped. “Who are you guys?”

“Now, we've spoken to some of the other survivors. We know something brought down that plane and it wasn't a mechanical failure.” Sam’s voice was calm.

“We need your help because we need to stop it from happening again. Here. Now.” Dean was firm.

She shook her head. “I'm sorry, I-I’m very busy. I have to go back.” She tried to move past Dean, but he grabbed her arm and pulled her back.

I grabbed her shoulder and Dean let her go, hands up. “Wait a second. I'm not gonna hurt you, okay? But listen to me, uh…”

“The pilot in 2485, Chuck Lambert. He's dead.” I spoke up.

She turned around. “Wait. What? What, Chuck is dead?”

“He died in a plane crash. Now, that's two plane crashes in two months. That doesn't strike you as strange?” Dean suggested.

“I…”

“Look, there was something wrong with 2485. Now maybe you sensed it, maybe you didn't. But there's something wrong with this flight, too.” Sam was giving her the puppy eyes.

“Amanda, you have to believe us.” Dean pleaded.

“Please. My brothers and I, we just want to stop this.”

Amanda sighed before looking at me, eyebrows knitted together. “On… on 2485, there was this man. He… had these eyes.”

“Yes. Yes. That's exactly what we're talking about.” Sam exclaimed.

She shook her head. “I don't understand, what are you asking me to do?”

“The copilot, we need you to bring him back here.” I nodded.

“Why? What does he have to do with anything?” She asked.

“Don't have time to explain. We just need to talk to him. Okay?” Dean reassured.

“How am I supposed to go in the cockpit and get the copilot-”

“Do whatever it takes. Tell him there's something broken back here, whatever will get him out of that cockpit.” Sam cut her off.

“Do you know that I could lose my job if you-”

“Okay, well you're gonna lose a lot more if you don't help us out.” Dean was tired of waiting.

She hesitated before nodding. “Okay.”

Dean pulled the book from his jacket and handed it to me. Sam pulled out the holy water, and they both pointed to the counter.

“Sit and stay.”

I rolled my eyes and tossed the roll of duct tape to Dean before hoisting myself onto the counter.

“Yeah, what's the problem?” The copilot peeked through the curtains.

Dean punched him in the face, knocking him down. He and Sam pinned him, putting duct tape over his mouth.

“Wait, w-what are you doing? You said you were just gonna talk to him.” Amanda’s eyes went wide.

“We are gonna talk to him.” Dean took the water from Sam and splashed the copilot, who’s skin sizzled.

I swallowed the bile rising in my throat as Amanda gaped.

“Look. We need you calm. We need you outside the curtain.” Sam pointed.

“Well, I don't understand, I don't know…”

“Don't let anybody in, okay? Can you do that? Can you do that? Amanda?” Sam bargained as I found the exorcism.

“Okay. Okay.” She scurried out.

“Come on, Ol. I dunno how much longer we can hold him.” Dean grunted out.

I cleared my throat. “Regna terrae, cantate Deo, psallite Domino-”

The demon broke away from the boys and came toward me. Dean yanked him by the back of the shirt, knocking him to the floor once again.

“Qui fertis ascendit super-”

The demon knocked the boys off again, ripping off the tape and coming toward me once more. His hand slashed at my neck and I yelped, feeling a stinging sensation. I dropped the book and my hands flew to my neck, feeling blood. Sam pulled him away, and it turned to grab him by the collar.

“I know what happened to your girlfriend! She must have died screaming! Even now, she's burning!”

I winced as Sam stood, stunned. I inched my way off the counter and fell to my knees, one hand at my neck while the other went for the book.

“Sam!” Dean barked.

Sam blinked before helping him pin the demon. It kicked the book up the aisle, and I groaned.

“I got him.” Sam grunted.

The demon flew out of the copilot and disappeared into the vent. Dean hissed as he stood.

“Hurry up, we gotta finish it!”

“Book’s down there!” I pointed, neck burning.

Sam stood, and the plane dipped. Dean screamed, but pulled me into his grip as Sam went sliding down the aisle. He picked up the book, and Dean held his hand against my neck, trying to keep me calm.

“Caelum, caeli ad Orientem. Ecce dabit voci suae vocem virtutis, tribuite virtutem deo!” I could hear Sam.

A charge ran through the plane, and it leveled out. Dean pushed himself to his feet before picking me up by the waist and sitting me on the counter. Sam scrambled back, as did Amanda. She gasped, and Sam’s hands came to hold my neck.

“Is she okay?”

I tried to nod, but my skin felt tight and I looked to Dean.

“She’s gonna be just fine.”

“You’re okay, bug. We’re gonna patch you up, okay?” Sam brushed my hair behind my ear and Amanda pulled out a first aid kit.

                                                        ***

“Let’s get out of here.” Dean grunted as we stumbled off the landing strip.

Sam stopped, and I looked at him. I squeezed Dean’s hand, since I wasn’t supposed to talk, according to him.

“You okay?”

“Dean, it knew about Jessica.”

I pulled away from Dean and went to him. “Sams, these things, they…” I winced. “They read minds. They lie. That's all it was.” I tried to reassure him.

Sam nodded. “Yeah.”

Dean came to our side and pulled us both into a hug. “Come on.”

                                                        ***

“Nobody knows what you guys did, but I do. A lot of people could have been killed.” Jerry shook our hands. “Your dad's gonna be real proud.” He grinned. “Sorry you got hurt.”

I shrugged. “Comes with the job.”

“We'll see you around, Jerry.” Sam clapped my shoulder as we began to head off.

Dean stopped, “You know, Jerry?”

“Yeah.”

“I meant to ask you, how did you get my cellphone number, anyway? I've only had it for like six months.” Dean put his hands in his pockets.

“Your dad gave it to me.” He answered.

“What?” Sam tensed.

“When did you talk to him?” I gulped.

“I mean, I didn't exactly talk to him, but I called his number. His voice message said to give you a call. Thanks again, guys.” He turned and left.

                                                        ***

“This doesn't make any sense, man. I've called Dad's number like fifty times. It's been out of service.” Sam sighed.

I pouted, leaning against him, sitting on Baby’s hood.

Dean said nothing and dialed Dad’s number. It rang for a few seconds before sending us to voicemail. He hit the speaker button and placed his phone on the hood of the car.

“This is John Winchester. I can't be reached. If this is an emergency, call my son, Dean. 785-555-0179. He can help.”

Sam steeled himself and got in the car, slamming the door. Dean and I looked at each other and I sighed, looking down. Dad wasn’t the perfect father. He was cruel. He was hurtful. He never laid a hand on me, but that was only because the boys didn’t let him. But outside of each other, he was all we had. Dean sat next to me.

“Sweetheart? What I said earlier, I didn’t mean-”

“I know, Dean. You just want me safe. I know what you meant.”

“I know that you know. But I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings. I’m sorry.”

I looked up at him and nodded. “S’okay, De.”

He pulled me into a hug.

“I love you, sweetpea.”

I snuggled into him and sighed. Dad was all we had, but me? I had Dean, and I always would. 

“I love you too, De.”

Previous Ep: Dead in the Water (1.03)

Next Ep: Bloody Mary (1.05)

#supernatural sister #supernatural oc #supernatural ocs #supernatural cast #dean winchester #sam winchester #supernatural imagine #supernatural fic #supernatural season one #olive winchester #micaelawrites #my posts #dean and sam #sam and dean #sam winchester x sister!reader #dean winchester x sister!reader #dean x sister!reader #sam x sister!reader #sam x sister!oc #sam winchester x sister!oc #dean x sister!oc #dean winchester x sister!oc #john winchester #john winchester x daughter!reader #john winchester x daughter!oc #jensen ackles #jared padalecki #jeffery dean morgan #winchester sister #supernatural

[winchesterbrotherstan]

First off, your writing is really amazing. I haven't found a really good fanfic writer for awhile so your a bit of fresh air. And i was just wondering if your going to continue your Agents of Shield series? no pressure or anything and i know its probably unlikely but i did really enjoy it. There's hardly any Fitzs fanfics with original characters and yours is amazing. Again your a really good writer keep up the good work! love ya

Hi! Thank you! The plan is to continue with the AOS series sometime in the future. Right now I’m working six days a week and don’t have much time to write. When I do write, my focus is mainly on Supernatural and Teen Wolf. Thank you so much for the feedback!! <3

#anon speaks #thank you anon! #love you! #agents of shield #agents of shield imagine #fitz #leo fitz #grant ward #leo fitz x reader #leo fitz x oc #grant ward x sister!reader #grant ward x sister!oc #micaelawrites #my posts #my writing

[winchesterbrotherstan]

supernatural- olive sam winchester

Olive Sam Winchester. Her mother tracked John down and left Olive on the steps of the motel door after she was born. John was out. Dean wasn’t sure if he should bring her in. Sam did. John tried to give her back, but he couldn’t find her mom, and Sam was already crazy about her. They keep her, and Sam picks the name Olive. Dean thinks her middle name should be Sam, because she looks like him. Dean refuses to let John begin to train her, but after Olive finds out he’s being consistently abused, she begs him to stops fighting it. John raises her to be a hunter, much to Dean’s distaste. When she’s 5, Sam’s 12, and Dean’s 16. He goes to Sonny’s Home for Boys after trying to steal food for them, and she’s left heartbroken.

She grows up and their life continues as that of hunter’s. Sam leaves, and he wants to take Olive with him. Dean is reluctant, but lets her make her choice. Torn, she chooses Dean, because, as much as Sam was there for her, Dean raised her. She visits Sam every so often, with he and Dean meeting halfway to drop her off and pick her up. Jess grows to love her, and in her, Olive finds the mother she never had.

She goes on her first hunt with Dean down in New Orleans, when she’s fifteen. At the same time, John is on a hunt in California. He’s been gone for a week, on a hunt that should have only taken two days. Dean and Olive hear nothing, and Dean panics. They drive out to Stanford, surprising Sam. While Olive goes to use the key under the mat, Dean breaks in through the window. She’s overjoyed to be reunited with Sam and Jess, but sad it’s over such awful circumstances. When Jess dies, Olive is destroyed, but she keeps her grief to herself in order to help Sam process his.

As time goes on, she remains closer with Dean, but bonds a lot more with Sam. She constantly tries to maintain the peace between the brothers, despite being eleven and seven years younger than both. Olive seems to balance the equation of Sam’s caution and Dean’s recklessness.

#supernatural sister #supernatural oc #olive winchester #micaelawrites #my posts #dean and sam #sam and dean #sam winchester x sister!reader #dean winchester x sister!reader #dean x sister!reader #sam x sister!reader #sam x sister!oc #sam winchester x sister!oc #dean x sister!oc #dean winchester x sister!oc #john winchester #john winchester x daughter!reader #john winchester x daughter!oc #jensen ackles #jared padalecki #jeffery dean morgan #winchester #winchester sister #winchester sibling #supernatural #micwrites

[winchesterbrotherstan]

Agents of Shield- 0-8-4

Pairing: Leo Fitz x Violet Ward (OC)

Summary: The gang finds a strange object in a South American cave, Grant and Violet mentally vibe, Violet gets shot, the side of the plane blows up!

Warnings: cursing, shoot-out, angry rebels, gunshot wound

Word Count:  11297 (she sorta long eek)

“S.H.I.E.L.D. 6-1-6, you have course confirmation. You are cleared direct to the Slingshot.” An agent’s voice came over the speakers. “Agent Coulson, everything all right up there? We heard you had a little dustup on the ground.”

“Yeah, we’re all good. It’s gonna be blue skies from here on out.” He replied shortly.

Then the side of the plane blew open, and wind rushed in, sucking things out and leaving Coulson clinging to the pole and struggling to hang on.

                                              19 HOURS EARLIER

I helped Skye take her last bag out of her van before she hopped out, dressed in a cute red dress with leather boots. I pulled the sleeves of Fitz’s green sweater down to my fingers as I lifted a bag for her and she took out a box.

“Hey!” She called to the agent who came to take her van. “No joy rides, okay? That’s my house.” She mumbled the last part.

“No worries.” He laughed and placed a gadget on it to turn the engine on.

She scoffed. “Where do they think of this stuff?” She smiled at me.

We walked up the ramp as it closed behind us. Jemma gave her a cheery welcome as we passed the lab. Fitz was hyperfocused on what seemed to be the dendrotoxin in the night-night gun. 

“Agent Coulson told us the news!” Jemma came with a smile. “What a wonderful surprise!”

Fitz followed her, hands fisted on his hips. He eyed me in his sweater, and his eyebrows shot up before he became stoic again as Jemma spoke.

“Isn’t it, Fitz?”

“Yes, what a surprise.” He nodded with a false smile, obviously disgruntled.

“No, it’s wonderful, you must be very excited!” Jemma cut him off.

“Yep, first day of school.”

“Alright, Jem, you can be best friends later. Come on, Skye.” I grinned at Jemma.

We walked up to the main floor, where I showed her the extra room.

“Do you guys just plan on having consults?” She asked, placing the box down on her bed with a laugh.

“No, I don’t think so. This was supposed to be my bedroom.” I placed the bag down on the bed.

“What happened, you bunk with big brother now?” She quirked an eyebrow playfully.

I tilted my head. “Agent Coulson tell you?”

“No. He mentioned it when he was under that truth serum. Is that real by the way? Because he said some real weird stuff. It was kinda freaky.”

“Uh, no. Truth serum isn’t real.” I squinted. “What kinda stuff?”

“Called your grandmother Gramzy.” She chuckled.

“Oh. Yeah, he’s good at lying.” I sighed.

She noticed the tension that came with the mention of Grant’s behavior and what he said.

“So. If you’re not sleeping here, and you’re not with your brother, where?” She sat on the bed and patted it.

I took the spot next to her. “Fitz and I share a bedroom. Coulson told us to take the bigger one, because we apparently ‘live stuck to each other’s hips anyways’.” I put quotes around that, rolling my eyes. “That, and he said he’ll probably spend most nights in his office anyways.” I smiled.

“You share a bedroom? Scandalous!” She giggled.

I chuckled. This was typical. Coulson had told me to gain her trust, get in her head. She was about my age, and I could probably read her fairly easily.

“We’ve been together for a few years now. We met at the S.H.I.E.L.D. Academy. He’s the best.” I grinned.

Yes, I was playing a role, but anything I said about Fitz was bound to be genuine. I loved him with all my heart, and there was no easy way to lie about that.

“Cute, cute. How long exactly?”

“Uh well we met when we were like fifteen and sixteen, and we started dating when he turned eighteen, so like eight years.” I smiled.

“Aw! So, what does big brother think? About you dating the nerdy tech guy?” She wrinkled her nose, obviously joking.

“It’s uh… complicated. But I don’t really care what he thinks.” I shrugged, picking up the lag and closing the awkward gap. “Fitz is great, and I love him.”

“Aww, that’s so sweet!”

I smiled, blushing. “Alright, come on. I’ll show you around.”

“So what exactly is this place?” She asked, following me through the halls.

“Officially, it’s an airborne mobile command station but we call it the Bus.” I saw Fitz-Simmons coming up the steps, joining us.

Fitz caught my hand in his immediately, falling into step with me. “Yeah, we find it best to use shorthand when in the field. But everything has to be just so, you know, because of the danger.” He seemed intent on scaring her.

I squeezed his hand and pulled on his arm, shooting him a look. He got the message that he was going to ruin Coulson’s plan and shut up, pouting like a child.

“Yeah, I’ve been up here before, but I didn’t see much because of the bag that Agent Ward put over my head.”

“Yes, so sorry about that.” Jemma smiled apologetically.

Skye turned to me, stopping in her tracks. “How do you handle that, by the way? Since there’s two of you?”

“Oh, everyone just calls me Violet.”

“Oh, that’s such a pretty name!” She took the water bottle Jemma offered.

Before I could reply, May came over the comms. “Wheels up in two. Lock it or lose it.”

“What’s that mean?” Skye looked at me with wide eyes.

“No backing out now.” Fitz smirked.

I glared at him very obviously before turning back to Skye with a reassuring smile. “Just means we should pack up your stuff before taking off so it doesn’t go everywhere. Come on.”

She started back toward her bunk and Fitz pulled me back by the arm.

“What is it? Why do you keep trying to scare her off?” I hissed in a hushed voice.

“I just don’t like new people is all. You know this. Come to our bunk once you’re done helping Skye, yeah?”

I rolled my eyes with a sigh. “Fine.”

He broke into a grin and leaned in to kiss my cheek before walking off. I rolled my eyes again, this time smiling. I went back to Skye, only to see Grant rapidly approaching her door. I cleared my throat and basically took a hop toward her door, leaning against the doorframe. Grant glared at me and knocked on her open door.

“Hey, I just shoved my bags into the drawers. I’ll unpack later.” She smiled at me and then turned to my brother, “Hey! I know we didn’t really-”

“You might wanna read that. This isn’t like other planes.” He shoved a paper in her hands and stalked off.

“Sorry about him. He’s got, uh, social issues.” I offered an apology.

“You could say that again.” She unfolded the paper, and I could now see that it was the layout and emergency exits for the Bus.

“Say what again?” Coulson approached now.

“Sweet ride.” Skye grinned at him.

“I earned a little goodwill from Director Fury when I got hit right before the Battle of New York.” He was referring to the Chitauri invasion that took place a year back, led by Loki Laufeyson and stopped by the Avengers.

“You took a bullet?” She asked, tossing the pamphlet aside.

“Ish.” Coulson said, and I turned tail and left.

I hated to hear his recounting of how Loki had stabbed him through the heart. Coulson believed that he had surgery and then was given a vacation in Tahiti. Only a few agents knew what had really happened, and we all had to pretend we didn’t. I passed Grant, perched on one of the bar stools.

“Violet.” He caught my attention.

I froze, plastered a smile on my face, and turned on my heel. “What’s up, Grant?”

“Come here for a minute.” He made a grabby hand.

I squared my shoulders as I padded over to sit next to him. He took a sip of his water before turning to me, eyes squinted.

“Why’s he bringing Skye?”

“She’s a fresh pair of eyes.” I spat out.

“Why’s he trusting her?” He fired.

“He’s got a plan.”

“What sort of plan?”

“I’m not at liberty to discuss that with you, Grant.” I smiled.

He paused, raising an eyebrow. This was an interrogation, and we both knew it. His face read a mixture of frustration and pride.

Give me the answers I want.

It was like I could hear him in my head.

Give up, Grant. I narrowed my eyes.

He wanted answers, but he was also glad to see I wasn’t easy to give them up. He switched subjects.

“You and Fitz. What is that? Friends with benefits? Are you guys secretly married, or—”

“He’s my boyfriend.”

“How old is he?” A silent he looks twelve followed, and I felt a small sense of relief at being able to read his facial expressions.

“Twenty six.”

“Is he good to you?” It didn’t seem to be coming from genuine brotherly concern, but some ulterior motive.

“Always.”

“How long have you been a thing?” His head tilted.

“Eight years.” I didn’t have to do the math again.

“Has he ever hurt you?”

“If you count shooting me in the forehead with a NERF gun, then sure.”

I got an eye roll. “How about emotionally?”

“Not on purpose.”

“Where’d you meet him?”

“The academy.”

“Have you guys ever done anything physical?”

I leaned in with a scowl. “None of your business, dad.”

A pause.

“Why are you with him?”

“How many reasons do you want?” I tilted my head.

“First one that comes to mind.”

“He’s cute.”

“Wow, anything less shallow?” He recoiled.

“He’s smart. Funny, makes me laugh, makes sure I’m okay, takes care of me, doesn’t make me feel stupid-”

“Okay, I got the message.” He put his hands up, but I had already set up the kill.

“Oh, and he’s always there for me. Real supportive too.” I sat up straight.

I watched his face change as he gulped and looked down. That was a hit that had hurt, and it was intentional.

Jesus, Vi. You didn’t have to go there.

I didn’t expect Grant to tell me everything. I didn’t expect a written biography or complete transparency. But I had expected him not to lie to my face and act like I wouldn’t figure out. I had expected for him to support my choices, even ones as simple as I like Fitz and I’m dating him.

I met his glance with arched eyebrows.

I wanted to.

“Any more questions?”

He shook his head. “No.”

“Great! I’ll see you in a bit.” I walked past him with a slap to the shoulder, my confident facade falling once I was in the safety of my room with the door shut.

“Darling? You alright?” He was sitting in the arm chair, already buckled up for the take off.

I felt tears cloud my vision as I swallowed hard.

“Come here.” He began to unbuckle himself, but I looked up and shook my head.

The plane lights flickered and there was a beep. I rushed to Fitz, falling into his lap as he wrapped his arms around me, a hand in my hair and the other around my legs, holding me against him. The take off only lasted a few minutes, and by then I had cried myself to calmness. Fitz’s white shirt now had tear stains on it, and the collar of his green flannel was a tad wet, but he didn’t care.

“Talk to me, Vi.” He unbuckled his seatbelt and cradled me in his arms as he laid me down on the bed and sat next to me, kicking his shoes off.

I only climbed back into his lap with my head against his shoulder and he leaned against the wall, sighing. I wasn’t crying anymore, but I didn’t know how to say what I wanted to. He pulled his arms around me, pressing kisses to my forehead.

“He’s different. He’s so different.” I finally croaked.

“What happened?” He angled his head down to look me in the eyes.

I shifted, sitting up to face him.

“He was asking all these questions about Skye, an-and then about you and I just- I… He got so … pissy? God no, that’s not the word. I don’t even think there is a word. He just got so-”

“Attackative?” He offered with a gentle smile.

“That is not a word.” I shook my head.

“No, it’s not. But it’s the word you need.” He shrugged. “What was he asking, darlin’?” He brushed my hair behind my ear.

I sighed. “Why Coulson was bringing Skye along, why we were trusting her.” I shook my head before meeting his gentle gaze.

“You don’t have to tell me the rest if you don’t want. I know it’s all delicate.” His eyebrows were furrowed.

I shook my head again. “He started to grill me.” I rolled my eyes. “About you. About us. But it wasn’t normal. It wasn’t ‘I’m your brother therefore I’m concerned about who you’re dating’, it-it was more of a ‘I wanna know all about your relationship so I can pick it apart’ interrogation type thing.”

Fitz sighed, “Darling, I’m sure he’s just trying to get to know you better. Maybe he’s out of practice. You know how field agents are. Especially specialists.”

“No, Leo. He’s wrong. He’s not who he used to be.” I sighed.

Fitz cupped my cheek. “Who was he before?”

I felt my heart crumble. “He was my brother before, Leo. He was just my brother, and now he’s some stupid heartless solider.”

                                                          ***

The brakes screeched as May slammed them. We had to fit six people in an SUV with five seats, which naturally ended with me sitting in Fitz’s lap. He opened the door and let me hop out before following suit, everyone but May piling out.

“Tire tracks forty meters back. I’ll check them against the site’s trucks, make sure we’re alone.” Grant spoke.

“Too much exposure here. I’m gonna find a place to park.” May looked around.

Fitz-Simmons unloaded their gear, and May pulled off. We looked around as animals chittered in the trees. Fitz pulled me from Grant’s side, holding my hand tightly. Jemma offered me a smile. Fitz must’ve mentioned Grant’s approach.

“I would love to see a capuchin in the wild. Maybe even a yellow-tailed woolly monkey. You know, um, Peru has thirty-two different species of monkey.” He spewed excitedly.

I loved to watch him geek out over technological things, but him geeking about monkeys was a whole new level. I personally didn’t like monkeys, because I was scared of them at a young age at zoos, but Fitz knew so much that it warmed my heart.

“Yeah, and over two hundred species of snakes! The shushupe has a fascinating ven-” She was forced to back up as Fitz pulled his suitcase from the rack attached to a van he bumped into. “Venom. It’s neurotoxic, proteolytic, and hemolytic!”

“Oh, that’s fascinating.” Fitz forced out, now nervous.

“Oh! No, I’d be much more worried about earthquakes, malaria-”

I cut her off with a hand to the back of Fitz’s neck to kill a pestering mosquito. She turned to us with a smile.

“Ah, there’s no vaccine for dengue fever.” She turned and gasped at the sight of the Peruvian ruins in front of us.

“Look at that.” I mumbled.

Before I had gotten into psychology, and eventually S.H.I.E.L.D., I had planned on becoming an archaeologist. My mother and father had bullied me out of it, but my love for it still held strong. Fitz-Simmons knew this, and watched with laughing smiles as I stared in awe.

“Come on, let’s get a picture!” Jemma pulled us onto the first step.

“No, no, guys-” I tried to get out of it, but Jemma posed on one side of me and Fitz trapped me on the other, grabbing my face and leaning down to press a kiss to my cheek as Jemma snapped a picture. I was smiling widely, but I couldn’t help it. I loved them both, and they knew it. Skye caught my eye from behind Coulson and grinned wide.

“Good morning, professor.” Coulson spoke to the archaeologist that came out of the ruins. “I’m Agent Coulson, with S.H.I.E.L.D.. I understand you’ve made an interesting discovery.”

The man sighed. “I-I’m not sure how to explain it. This temple dates back at least 500 years. It’s filled with pre-Incan artifacts. One of them is … impossible.” He gestured. “And looks like it might be dangerous.”

“Well, that’s why we’re here.” Coulson nodded with a smile as the man led us down.

It was just a stone opening with steps down to the temple floor, but I couldn’t stop staring, eyes darting from one spot to the next. I scanned the walls, fascinated by the engravings and pictures, ignoring the large cobwebs and imagining what this place was like in its prime.

“It’s there. Exactly as we found it.” He pointed at a silver and blue contraption stuck in the wall.

It reminded me vaguely of the tesseract.

“Who else knows about this?” Coulson rushed to it, eyes wide.

“Just the ministry. I believe they are the ones who contacted you.” The man explained.

Coulson asked the man to evacuate the site as Fitz-Simmons set up their equipment and drones. Skye and I stood in the middle of the room, staring at the walls.

“Leave the man alone.” Jemma scolded one of the drones that stood at the man’s face, smiling politely.

“Now. For your own safety.” Coulson ushered him away.

“There’s nothing about this anywhere. It’s amazing, I’ve searched every data stream. What have we got here, guys?” Skye got closer, putting a finger up to it.

“Whoa, car- uh, careful. I-I- no, wouldn’t do that.” Fitz stumbled over his words of warning.

Skye took his advice and took a step back.

“The object’s placement in fossiliferous rock formations suggests it’s been here for at least 1,500 years!” Jemma exclaimed.

For once, I understood what she was saying. “That predates this temple by a thousand years.” I furrowed my eyebrows.

“Ah! Maybe it’s alien!”

“Yeah, but the shape and the craftsmanship- it’s almost German.” Fitz looked up from his tablet.

“Sir?” Coulson’s radio crackled to life; it was Grant.

“Go.”

“We have a situation.” He grunted.

“Lots of rebels in this area.” Skye noted.

“Not enough gunfire.” I shook my head.

“Keep working. Violet, stay here, be vigilant.” He spoke into the radio. “I’m on my way.” He walked out and Fitz-Simmons picked up their pace.

“Why’d he make you stay here?” Skye asked me.

I pulled out my handgun and checked the safety. “‘Cause I’m the only one out of us four cleared for combat.”

“Are you seeing this? It’s alive.” Fitz spoke up.

“I’m sorry, did he just say that it’s alive?” Skye looked at me.

I shrugged. “Alien tech is weird.”

“It has a functioning power source.” Fitz explained.

“Sleepy’s reading radionuclides, but they don’t match any known isotope.” Jemma shook her head.

“I get temporal matches, but even then, they seem to shift. Is that even possible?” Fitz pulled his eyebrows together.

“Depends on the shifting of the temporal radio stuff, so…” Skye tried.

Fitz-Simmons only stared.

“It’s totally weird, right?” Skye gave a nervous laugh. “I’m gonna go check on Coulson.” She tried to slink past me.

“No, you’re not.” I caught her wrist.

“We’ve got company.” Grant popped through the opening, his radio in hand. “National police.”

“What?” Fitz-Simmons exclaimed.

“Why are they here?” I looked at him.

“They heard about this object, they’re probably here to protect it. This area has a lot of rebel uprisings.” Grant put his radio away.

“Yeah, people are fighting back against the government’s mining policies. It’s pretty kick-ass.” Skye scoffed.

 “Yeah, it’s kick-ass, all the violence.” Grant rolled his eyes.

“That’s not what I’m saying.” Skye argued.

“No, it’s what you’re typing. In your van, alone- where it’s safe.” Grant was taking a personal hit.

“Grant.” I warned.

“How much longer?” He turned to Fitz-Simmons.

“What’s the hurry?” Jemma groaned.

“Are we in danger?” Fitz looked straight up at me. 

“Not if everyone does their job.” Grant pulled his sidearm. “What is yours, exactly?” He looked to Skye.

There was a faint explosion from outside, and then gunfire. Grant perked up, gun still in hand. I grabbed Skye and pulled her between me and the wall, guarding her from the opening. The temple rumbled, and dust fell onto us.

“Sounds like they’re engaging with the rebels.” Grant shot me a look.

“Time to go.” I looked at Fitz-Simmons and they immediately called the drones back to pack them up.

“They’re coming for it, let’s move!” Grant shouted.

Skye went to help them pack, but Jemma ushered her away as politely as she could. “We need a containment case for the 0-8-4!” Jemma shouted.

“There’s no time.” Grant grunted.

“But it has a fluctuating power core, frequencies way above 10 exahertz!” Fitz yelled.

Grant and I looked at each other. He shrugged.

“Jacket.” I held my hand out and he rolled his eyes.

You’re not serious.

I jerked my hand out again.

Give me the jacket, dumbass.

He sighed before pulling it off and shoving it into my grip. I ran to the object, using his leather jacket like a glove and gripping it. I gave it a tug, but to no avail.

“Violet-”

“Shut up, Grant!” I placed my foot up on the wall and tugged again, this time with my body weight.

It came out with a crackle of the wall and more dust as the temple rumbled again.

“Violet!” Fitz shouted, and Jemma said something else, but I didn’t hear her.

“Let’s go!” Grant shouted, taking the object and shoving it into a duffle bag.

“I’ll lead, you pick up the rear!” He shouted, pulling the strap over his shoulders and putting his gun back up.

“You did not just pull that out of the wall! What is wrong with you? Do you two realize we do not know the amount of photon emissions coming out of this-”

I put my hand on Fitz’s chest and pushed, raising my eyebrows.

“Okay.” He put his hands up and filed behind Jemma and Skye, who was close behind Grant. “We just don’t know what’ll happen if it gets excited!”

“Stay close.” Grant ignored him.

They ran out, and Fitz hit his knee on the way out, letting out a groan. I bit back a smile at his clumsiness, urging him forward with my gun ready. The sunlight was blinding, and the gunfire was loud. Grant began to fire, but they returned it faster than the two of us could go.

“Get back!” I shouted, yanking Fitz by the bag, pushing Jemma and Skye back into the temple opening with him.

Grant was on one knee, shooting. I ducked behind him, his body covering most of my torso as I swept my gun over his head and fired.

“Cover me!” He shouted and stopped firing.

I shot an approaching rebel in the shoulder as Grant pulled something out of the pocket at my thigh, trying to twist around without losing the cover to my body. He pulled the thunderstick out and swung it, letting it go to full length.

“Grant, now!” I shouted.

He rolled over the steps as I fired again, scrambling back into the opening. Six hands yanked me in as Grant hit the button, and two pulled me into their chest as the explosion went off, leveling the rebels to the ground. We waited two seconds, and then were back on our feet. Grant pulled the thunderstick out of the floor and waved to me, backing up so he could cover Skye and Fitz-Simmons as they ran.

“Grant, 10:00!” I shouted, pointing my gun.

The rebel fired faster, but was blocked by our SUV, driven by none other than May. She opened the door and Grant shouted for us to get in. Jemma yanked the cases from Fitz’s hand and threw them into the backseat, helping Skye in. Grant bent down so I could easily jump onto his back. He straightened and I took another shot at the rebel, this time taking him down. I fumbled back onto my feet, and Jemma yanked me in, letting Fitz pull me into his lap, as she slammed the door shut. Grant got in and May hit the gas before his door was even closed.

May drove wildly, the car bumping and jerking. Skye shut her eyes tightly, and Simmon was clutching Grant’s seat from behind. My forehead bumped against Fitz’s, but we kept our noises to ourselves. I saw Grant turn around, trying to see the truck behind us.

Where the fuck is he?

“Coulson’s secure in PMP’s truck.” I told him, sensing his distress.

He nodded, turning back to May. “Take the south route to the airfield.” He ordered.

“Gotcha.” She swerved the truck and my head went backward to the window. Fitz grabbed me by the back of the neck and pulled me tightly against him, my forehead stuck to his neck.

“Slow down!” He shouted.

“You’re joking, right?” Skye yelled back.

“Ward, listen! We have to be careful! There’s a binding energy structure that could overheat!” He was frantic.

“I could roll down a window!” Jemma tried to help.

Bullets hit the side of the window, metal on metal making an awful screech. I leaned over and rolled the window back up.

“Do not roll down a window!” Skye shouted.

“Stay quiet and keep your head down!” Grant turned around, ordering over his shoulder like an angry parent. “Head left. The ravine empties.” He spoke to May.

She turned wordlessly, leaving the four of us in the backseat to tumble into elbows and knees.

“But Ward!” Fitz cried.

“Quiet!” Both Grant and I scolded, turning to face him.

“How fast can you have the wheels up?” Grant asked, hitting a button on the dash to open the cargo hold of the bus.

“Fast.” May replied, tires screeching as she braked hard on the ramp.

We scrambled out of the car, May barking an order for us to close the ramp. Grant got there first, smashing the button. Fitz and Jemma ducked out of the way, but Skye stood there, astonished.

“What are you doing? Coulson is still out there!”

“Get off the ramp, you’re in the line of fire.” He shoved her my way and I only bounced her off to Fitz-Simmons, who grabbed her by the legs and pulled her down.

Grant and I stood at the edge of the ramp, firing as best we could at the rebels without hitting Coulson or the other men. It took a few seconds to get them all loaded in, and it was enough for a bullet to skip by Grant and graze my shoulder. I cursed, gritting my teeth before shooting down the man that had hit me. In my focus to hit him, I took another one to the leg and crashed to the ground with a scream.

“Violet!” Grant shouted, not looking at me and not turning, but becoming stiff and shooting even faster.

The military men loaded in, followed by Coulson, as the ramp began to close. Grant ceased fire and holstered his gun, taking mine and lifting me in his arms, running past a questioning Coulson and to the lab, where Fitz-Simmons followed, clearing off a table.

“I’m fine!” I fussed, trying to get Grant off of me. I said it again, this time hitting him in the chest before pointing to the black duffle bag on the floor by the doors. “Focus on the 0-8-4, I’ll be okay.” I clutched my shoulder.

“I can start patching her up.” Jemma gently pushed him aside, helping me pull Fitz’s green sweater off and cutting the leg of my jeans.

He sighed. “Fine. Fitz, what was the problem?”

Fitz only stared at me, concerned as his lips twitched and no words left his mouth, only a tiny gasp.

“Leo, I’m okay. What was the problem?” I tugged the free scraps of jeans off, exposing the wound that was bleeding and gross.

He snapped out of it, “As I said before, this device has a high-frequency, fluctuating, sub-material compression-”

“Fitz. In English.” Grant cut him off angrily.

Jemma quickly cleaned my arm and wrapped it. It didn’t hurt as much as my leg did.

“The 0-8-4 is fueled by tesseract technology.” He gestured. “Hydra. World War II. Captain America. It’s full of lethal amounts of gamma radiation.”

I let out a gasp as Jemma pulled the bullet out of my leg with forceps.

“Tesseract. S-s-so, you’re saying it’s worse than nuclear?” I grunted through my sentence, trying to focus on anything but the burning sensation in my thigh.

Fitz only nodded, and everyone took a step away from the bag. Grant came to my side, pulling my matted hair away from my forehead.

“You touched it.” He scolded, sitting behind me to hold my shoulders steady.

Please don’t make me lose you.

“With your jacket. I’m fine.” I wheezed, feeling light-headed.

I’ll be okay, you won’t lose me.

“She’s lost a lot of blood, Ward.” Jemma’s voice was strained as she cleaned the wound again, and it felt like she was sticking a drill into my leg.

My chest tightened and I pushed back, my head thumping against Grant’s chest as he grabbed my shoulders, countering my force. “We’re the same blood type.” He yanked a sleeve up as soon as I stopped squirming.

“Can’t you guys get her anything for the pain?” Skye sounded so distant.

“She’s allergic to almost every damn painkiller on this godforsaken Earth.” Grant grunted and I could feel the vibrations in his chest.

“We could’ve just waited until I passed out.” I mumbled.

“Would’ve taken too long. Just a little pinch now, darling.” I heard Fitz and felt his hand over my arm, and then a needle being stuck inside.

I winced, trying to squirm once more, only to be stopped by Grant holding me down with one arm, the other connected to mine through a series of tubes.

“It hurts.” I whined, throwing my head back to hit Grant in the chest again.

He didn’t budge. “I know, Vi. I’m sorry.”

I whimpered again, forgetting that anyone else was in the room even though I could feel Simmon’s hands working on my leg.

“I know, ducky. I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry. Shh shh shh. I know, I know.” He mumbled to me as pain took over in surges and I let my weight fall back against him, everything fading to black.

                                                            ***

“Yeah, well I use normal English, words like duck and run and might blow us to pieces.” I could hear Grant bitching.

“Oh! Oh, wow! Well congratulations, Agent Ward! You managed to string three words together in a sentence!” I heard Fitz snap at him.

They continued to argue, and I forced my eyes open, rolling my head to the left. Coulson’s army men friends were strung around our garage, packing their guns into a code-protected safe as Coulson spoke to a woman. I realized I was no longer in the clothes from this morning, but my pajamas. Fitz must’ve gotten them from our room.

“Can you guys shut up?” I asked, my voice hoarse and scratchy.

“Violet!” Skye perked up before anyone and came running, Jemma on her heels.

“Hey.” I smiled.

Jemma pulled out a pen and shone it in my eyes. I knew she was making sure I was okay, so I tried not to fuss. Skye sat at the edge of my bed.

“Why’s the bed in the lab?” I asked, turning to Jemma.

“Coulson wanted you in here, since there’s unknowns on the bus. Just in case.” She explained with a smile. “Your vitals seem good. We bandaged your leg, but you should wait at least a few days before putting weight on it. No major hits, it just skimmed your femoral artery.”

“Well, that’s reassuring. Are you two done now?” I leaned around her, looking at Fitz and Grant.

Fitz looked at me with a relieved smile, and Grant only looked at me with a raised eyebrow.

Well, you’re feeling better.

I rolled my eyes at him.

Shut up, dickhead.

They shuffled over, like two kids in trouble. Jemma moved aside and let Fitz stand at my side, kissing my forehead and hugging me tightly. I pushed my face into his chest and breathed deeply, hating to see him so worried.

“Hey. I’m okay.” I stroked his cheek as he pulled away.

He only nodded with a soft smile before stepping back to let Grant in. I smiled at him as wide as I could in my sleepy state. He instantly laughed, both amused and relieved. He rushed toward me, sitting on the side of the bed and letting me hug him at my own pace. My head fell onto his shoulder as his arms came around me, holding me against him as he breathed choppily. He hid his face in my hair, and I could feel him trying not to cry. I wrapped my arms around his torso and looked over his shoulder at Fitz, pointing to the door with a pleading look. He got the message, pulling Skye and Jemma out with him.

“I’m sorry. I should’ve been covering you. You shouldn’t have gotten hit, especially not twice.” Grant’s chest heaved.

“It’s okay. It’s not your fault.” I rubbed his back.

He only sighed, letting his breathing even out over the course of a few minutes, still clinging to each other. He finally pulled back, wiping at his tears with the sleeves of his shirt before sniffling and looking back at me.

“I’m sorry.” This one was different.

He wasn’t apologizing for me getting shot. He was apologizing for his change in behavior. For being aggressive. For being unlike himself.

I nodded. “Grant, what happened to you?” I reached for his hand.

He let me take it, looking away with eyes closed and his lips in a thin line.

“Jail changes people, Vi. You know that.”

I squeezed his hand and leaned his way, trying to get him to look me in the eye. My own eyes began to tear up, and they stung.

“I meant after. After you …” I stopped and swallowed. “After they told us you died-” My voice broke, and half the word fell away into the air. “What happened then?”

He looked down, and then up at me, eyes sad. “My SO left me to fend for myself in the woods for half a year. I was alone, Vi. And I was scared.” His eyebrows were angled up.

I know I’m not the same. I’m so sorry.

I looked away, nodding once more. “I’m sorry. I put too much pressure on you.” I pursed my lips and looked back to him.

I just want my brother back.

He squeezed my hand this time, and I looked up to see him nodding his head.

I’m trying my best. I’m right here.

“No. You’re doing good. You’re keeping me in line. It’s a good thing.” He reached for my face and wiped my cheeks.

“Thank you.”

I nodded again, leaning forward for another hug. “You guys can come back in now.” I called, and Skye and Fitz-Simmons stumbled in.

Skye came back to my side, replacing Grant as he went on to continue his conversation with Fitz. They began to argue again.

“I’m just trying to tell you what you’re dealing with!” Fitz screamed.

“And I don’t understand anything you’re saying!” Grant screamed back.

The sliding doors opened and Coulson walked in, eyebrows raised. “Do we have a problem in here?”

Grant backed down and Fitz went quiet, working on his night-night gun.

“No sir. Just working on our communication. Not everyone was prepared for a firefight.” Grant looked around.

“We got out, didn’t lose anyone, saved a few of theirs. I’d say we did alright. Violet, how’re you doing?” He looked over at me.

I flashed a smile and a thumbs up. “Doing great, sir.”

He nodded. “Good, I’m glad. Anything else?” He looked around.

Skye’s hand popped up. “Yeah, I have, uh, one small question. Because I’ve been feeling like the tagalong hayseed rookie, but now I get the sense that Ward doesn’t know which one’s Simmons and which one’s Fitz, and they’ve seen even less gunfire than me, and he somehow managed to let his sister get shot, and I’m no rocket scientist, but is this your first mission together?” She leaned forward.

“No. Of course not.” Jemma frowned. “It’s our second.”

“I was your first? That’s sweet.” She scrunched her nose up.

“You’re amused?” Grant snapped.

“I’m terrified. I am in way over my head, but I have been on this team just as long as any of you. I might as well be team captain.” She scoffed.

I noted Simmon’s perfected eye roll, along with the glance Fitz and Grant were sending each other. Coulson remained stoic.

“I was joking, but maybe that’s not a bad idea, because these guys do not like each other much.”

“This isn’t about that.” Grant turned to Coulson. “I’m a specialist. Today, I could’ve eliminated the enemy threat myself if I was working alone,” 

I felt myself sink back into the pillows. I thought we had worked great together, considering we never had before. Jemma noticed and came to the other side of the lab table, shaking her head.

“...but I had non-combat ready agents-”

“Whoa, whoa, wait! You work alone?” Fitz cut him off.

“So typical. Who do you think designs your equipment?” Jemma looked at him with a scowl.

“Or the polymers for your weaponry? People like us do that.” Fitz pointed between Jemma and himself.

“Try going into the field with just your bare bum.” Jemma finished.

“Guys.” I pushed myself out of the bed, ignoring the shock traveling up my leg and the looks I got from the three of them. I forced my arms to do most of the work, half-limping and half-dragging myself to stand in front of them at the head of the table. “Shut up, and stop fighting. Because now you’ve proven Skye right, and Coulson’s doubting every single one of us.”

“You’re not wrong. We still need to iron out the kinks. But Ward, you can speak six languages. Simmons, you have two PhDs in fields I can’t pronounce, and Fitz, you are a rocket scientist. Violet, you keep being the buffer. And work it out.” Coulson had a firm tone, like a father scolding his kids before leaving.

I let out a breath and let my legs give out as Grant caught me with an angry look. He picked me up and plopped me back on the bed, checking the bandages on my arm and leg.

“I-I’m good at stuff too!” Skye called after Coulson.

                                                             ***

I was lying with my head on the pillow in Grant’s lap, a book falling from my hands as he rested his against my head. Fitz-Simmons were in the conference room with the holotable, and they had gotten snippy with each other. Grant and I stayed out of their way, holing ourselves up in the lounge. I let my eyes slip closed. It didn’t matter if I fell asleep, Grant would probably just move me to my bed either way.

“Hunger Games?” I heard Skye. “Oh, is she sleeping? Sorry.”

“She’s a heavy sleeper, it’s fine. And no, it’s Matterhorn. One of a hundred novels my SO gave me that I’m just getting around to.” He sighed.

There was a pause.

“SO. Supervising Officer.” He explained, probably not looking up from his book.

“Got it. Hackers have lingo too, but I’ll pick yours up. I feel like you and me? Wrong foot. Can I buy you a drink?”

I felt him chuckle and set the book aside, pulling the pillow further onto his lap so he could sit up straight without pushing me off the couch.

“What I said before- When I said the uprising was- whatever I said- a good thing. I don’t want you to think I’m oblivious.” I heard the clink of a bottle. “What I was talking about was the tweets.”

“Tweets.” Grant repeated, his hand coming up to rub my shoulder.

He knew I was awake, and he wanted to make sure I was taking mental notes so we could dissect this later.

“You trying to make things better or worse?”

“Peruvians have organized for the first time in decades. Thousands of suffering people who have never met uniting over a common idea? It’s mind-blowing. And I don’t want to bring it up because I don’t wanna see your hate face, but … that’s what the Rising Tide is all about.”

“Okay.” He sounded slightly disgruntled.

“Usually, one person doesn’t have the solution. But a hundred people- with one percent of the solution? That’ll get it done.”

Grant took a deep breath.

“I think that’s beautiful. Pieces solving a puzzle.”

Grant sighed and scooted closer to her, holding my head with a hand to keep me steady. I heard him take a glass from her and swirl it.

“You and I see the world differently is all.”

“I’ve never been in a war zone during a war until today. That was crazy. I take it you’ve seen that a lot?”

Another sigh from him, this one deeper. He didn’t answer her question, only grunted as he put his drink down.

“Did you get shot?” She grabbed him.

“Skin deep. Nothing like Violet here. Nothing to worry about.” He took his arm back.

“You also got shot. Did that happen protecting us?” She pressed.

“Said don’t worry about it.” There was a gentle tone, and I imagined he was smiling.

She was talking about the bit of blood on his side, where he had gotten skimmed while lifting me to shoot one of the rebels out from the other side of the car. Jemma took care of it after she took care of me, and she said he’d only need a bandaid and he’d be fine. He hadn’t bothered to change his shirt.

“Well, no wonder you were so pissed.”

He hesitated. “I wasn’t pissed. I was trained to be the whole solution, to eliminate variables. And today, they keep adding up.” His tone changed, and his hand moved slowly to shake me.

I feigned sleepiness again, opening my eyes and rubbing them.

“Vi.” His eyes remained in one place.

I sat up slowly, and he pulled me into his side, bringing his mouth to whisper in my ear. His grip on my arm was firm.

“When I say so, take Skye and get to the lab. Guard Fitz-Simmons, and don’t let them get the 0-8-4. They’re PMP, but they’re lying to us.”

I pulled back and leaned against his shoulder, nodding slightly so he would feel it but the officers wouldn’t see it.

“Morning.” Skye smiled at me. “We’re turning.”

Grant nodded. “We’re entering restricted airspace, so we have to follow certain flight paths. Regulation. This plane is capable of fully automated flight, but May has to be on the stick herself tonight.” He slung his arm around me again.

“You’ve got an SO, May’s gotta be on the stick. Lots of good lingo on this plane.” Skye laughed.

“Yeah. We just can’t seem to understand each other.” Grant smiled his charming smile, the one he used to flash when he was in high school that made all my friends, in their middle school glory, fall for him.

Skye poured herself another drink and Grant looked down at me with an eyebrow arched. I watched him as he looked back to the officers. He set his jaw and gave me a squeeze, kissing the top of my head.

“Skye. Hand me the bottle.” He smiled again, then whispered into my hair. “Go, now.”

“Okay, turbo, but you’re still nursing the one you’ve got.” She laughed and I pushed myself to my feet.

“I’m not the only one.”

She looked at me and I shook my head, reaching for her hand. “Remember how we had to talk to Fitz about the fan in your bunk? We should probably go now, before he turns in for the night.” I smiled.

She caught on and gulped nervously. “Okay.”

Grant smiled as the officer came over, then pushed us out of the way and smashed the bottle onto the officer’s hand, who let out a scream. I grabbed Skye and pulled her behind me, trying to move as fast as I could without letting the stitches in my leg break. We rounded the corner and I pulled my weight over the side of the banister, letting myself slide down it rather than running down the stairs.

“Violet!” Skye called out from the bottom of the steps, pointing at one of the officers, who had Fitz with a scalpel to his neck.

“Get in here and sit down.” The man growled.

I grunted as my weight fell onto my leg and I put my hands up. Skye grabbed me by the elbows, helping me stand before dragging me into the lab. Jemma tried to help lower me to the floor, but it only seemed to piss the man off more and he moved the scalpel closer to Fitz’s neck.

“I’m fine, Jemma.” I shrugged her off, sliding onto the floor and clutching at my leg, below the line of stitches.

“Stop squirming, pretty boy.” The man growled as Fitz tried to pull his arms away.

I could hear his hard breathing and I felt my head throb.

“You know, if you want a valuable hostage, you might wanna take someone else.” I started.

“What?” He hissed.

“I mean, it’s your choice.” I shrugged. “He is pretty, you got that part right.”

“Shut up.” The man grunted.

“But really, he’s just the tech guy. He’s like, oh I dunno,” I shrugged again, “glorified IT. That’s what he is. He doesn’t know anything. Coulson can easily replace him.”

“Shut up!”

“Listen, bud, I’m just trying to help you out. You want leverage against Coulson and Ward? Switch me out for him.” I glared, breathing hard and grabbing the same spot of my leg.

The men stared for a second, contemplating. “Fine. Nice and easy. Nobody try anything or I’ll kill you all.” He eased his arms off Fitz, who ran into my open arms, squeezing me.

“You’re an idiot!” He shouted loudly.

“Loop the cameras.” I whispered into his ear before kissing his cheek and letting the officer put the scalpel up to my neck.

I groaned in pain as he made me put weight on my leg. The man forced me down on it as I whimpered. He laughed, then shoved me against the table.

“Where’s it hurt?”

“Where do you think, dumbass?” I growled through gritted teeth.

He hummed to himself, putting the scalpel down and bending down, moving his hand across my thigh to move my grip. He grunted in satisfaction once he found the blood soaked bandage. He cracked his knuckles before resettling his grip on my leg, ready to dig his fingers into my wound. The spot I had gripped was an inch below, where the worst he could do was make it throb more. He pressed a thumb against it and I yelled anyways, letting him believe it. I heard Skye gasp. He jammed his thumb in further, his head in the crook of my neck. He smelled vile and he was breathing oddly.

I took the moment of his distraction to elbow him in the crotch. He fell to the floor, still gripping my leg. I turned around and kicked his face, fingers finding the scalpel and ripping it over his face, breaking skin on his cheek and forehead. Skye screamed as blood splattered across my shirt. I stabbed him in the shoulder and kicked his head again, this time to knock him out.

“Fitz, lock the doors.” I ordered as I pulled back and pushed the man aside, my leg pulsing.

“Are you okay?” Jemma was worried, her forehead creased and her eyebrows furrowed.

I nodded. “Went a few inches down, don’t worry.”

“Hey!” There was a harsh knock on the lab door and Fitz yelped.

I looked out to see another man with a gun to Grant’s throat. I glanced over my shoulder, glad to see his fellow officer out of sight.

“Open the door or he gets blown to bits.”

I could see Grant breathing heavily. They had done a number on him, his eye already swelling. He looked at me, frustration on his face.

Don’t you dare open those doors.

I sighed.

I’m not just gonna sit here and let you get shot.

“Open the doors.” I mumbled, falling back to the ground.

I could see Grant talking frantically to the guard, who only seemed to get angrier by the second. The doors slid open and I could finally hear my brother’s voice.

“Please. I swear I won’t try anything. She just needs help walking, that’s all. She’ll put up a fight against you if you touch her. Please.”

“Fine.” The officer snorted, pushing him forward.

Grant ran to me, scooping me into his arms and pulling me up. “You’re okay.” He whispered, the lines on his forehead a tell of how worried he was.

I only nodded as they tied us each up, and then gave me my own separate black eye along with a broken nose and busted lip for having cut their friend up. I spit out blood as they left, trudging back up the stairs with their bleeding friend. My nose was throbbing, as was my leg and every other part of my body. I leaned my head against Grant’s shoulder, exhausted.

“This is all my fault. I should’ve learned Kung Fu.” Fitz tried to joke.

“Yeah, but I shouldn’t have pushed you into the field in the first place. You weren’t ready.” Jemma sighed.

“It was my job to make a proper threat assessment.” Grant tried to take the blame.

“Uh, we- we weren’t ready.” Fitz argued.

“This couldn’t have happened if Agent May wasn’t on the stick.” Skye jumped in. “She would’ve busted out with some of her ninja know-how.”

“Agent May? No, no, no. She transferred from administration.” Fitz argued again.

“Well, I’ve seen her destroy a guy, so…”

“Can we stop the pity party? We have to find a way out of here before they kill Coulson, take the 0-8-4, and then crash this plane where nobody will ever find our bodies.”

“Okay, wait but Agent May?” Fitz-Simmons pressed again, this time looking to Grant.

He smiled. “You’ve heard of the Calvary?”

“Yeah, everyone at the academy talks about st-... She’s the Calvary?” They exclaimed.

“I told you never to call me that.” May’s voice was scratchy.

“Oh, well we’re sure to get out of here now! Um, how do we get out of here?” Jemma asked her as she sat up.

“Can’t go through the doors. They’re bolted, tied to the pressurization lines. You two geniuses have nothing?” She looked at Fitz-Simmons.

“Yeah, well, it’s hard to concentrate in these intense situations.” Fitz explained from beside me.

“Hey. Don’t freeze up. Take a breath. You don’t need to come up with the whole solution. Just part of it. Right?” Grant spoke calmly.

“Yeah.” Skye smiled. “Pieces solving a puzzle.”

                                                              ***

“Well that’s clearly the worst idea we’ve heard yet!” Jemma scoffed.

“Yeah!” Fitz agreed.

“Maybe, but it might work.” Skye shrugged.

“Guys, Reyes is gonna kill us once we land and blame it on rebels.” Grant insisted.

“At least this way we’ll have a fighting chance.” I offered.

“We’ll take it.” Grant spoke for the both of us.

“What’s first?” I asked Fitz.

“We can’t get upstairs without going in the lab.” Fitz answered.

“And the only way to release the lab doors is from upstairs.” Jemma added.

Skye rolled her eyes. “First thing is that we’re tied to the cargo door, so unless you guys can-”

She was cut off by a crack and I grimaced.

“What the hell was that?” Fitz jumped closer to me, worried, and I bumped my knee to his in reassurance.

“Her wrist.” Grant answered.

We watched as May snuck behind Lola, making her way up to the balcony in silence, where a guard stood watch with Grant’s sidearm. She was slow and quiet, inching her way across the bottom railing of the balcony on her fingers. The guard turned and stared straight at us before becoming confused by the lack of one of us. May swung up, her legs locking around his neck as she threw him over the balcony and he landed cold on the floor. She landed on her feet and popped her wrist back into place.

“What’s next?”

                                                          ***

“Okay, we’re sure, right?” Sky stood on Grant’s other side.

“Yeah, we’re sure.” He had his arm around my shoulders, keeping me balanced.

“We’re all on board.” Jemma’s voice was shaky.

“Yeah, let’s do this, fast.” Fitz was on my other side.

“Alright guys, let’s do it.” I was the last to speak, and probably the calmest besides my brother.

“No turning back, no freezing up.” He spoke.

“Because if we do, then…” Fitz trailed off.

“All of us die.” Grant finished.

“We know.” I patted his arm.

“Alright.” Grant nodded and gave me a look, to which I nodded.

You’re sure you’re okay to do this?

Positive.

He knelt so I could get on his back, like we were children at a fairgrounds and May revved the engine of the SUV. “You guys talk a lot.” She sat in the car and gunned it, barely giving Grant time to shove Fitz-Simmons and Skye out of the way. She crashed into the lab doors and I heard Fitz wince. Jemma climbed onto the table and started to unscrew part of the ceiling. Fitz got the drones out, firing them up as Skye and I raided the cabinets for cords. May snuck out, and Grant found other cords.

He handed me the link of chains and a few cords, and I got them together as fast as I could. He did the other two. Once he finished he grabbed Skye and Jemma. I tightened Fitz’s around his waist, pulling his tie over it so it wouldn’t get caught.

“Are you sure this’ll work?” He asked me, worried.

I nodded. “I’m sure.” I pushed him over to Jemma’s side.

Grant turned me around to hook my cord on, tightening it a bit more than was necessary. He scanned my face and I only nodded. This would work. It had to work. Grant and I worked fast, hooking the cords together and praying they would hold. Fitz held the tablet tight in his hands, with a view of what the drone was seeing. Coulson’s voice came over.

“It’s gonna be blue skies from here on out.”

“Simmons, forget what I said before. This is the moment we’re gonna regret.” Fitz took a deep breath before hitting the button.

The drone would activate the 0-8-4, which would hopefully blow the plane open and give us a shot. The panel beside Grant turned from red to green.

“It worked!” Skye shouted.

“The drop in cabin pressure released the doors!” Jemma smiled.

“I’ll take care of the soldiers, you guys get to the 0-8-4.”

“And Coulson?” Fitz asked.

“Let’s hope he can handle himself. Be careful.” He grabbed my shoulder before pushing the door open, leading the way.

There were gunshots, and Grant was shoving us to the floor, crawling toward the couch. He jumped over, taking on two soldiers, getting one out of the way before trapping the other against the couch and kneeling over him.

“Go, now! Find the 0-8-4!” He yelled at us and Skye started to move, forcing the rest of us to follow with her.

I watched as another soldier took on Grant, leaping onto him and taking him down. Things became quiet and I thought for a second that my ears were bleeding. Fitz pushed himself to his hands and knees behind me, saying something that I couldn’t hear. I sighed before pulling him by the cord and yanking Jemma back. I tied theirs together and ripped my own off.

“Violet, what are you doing?” Fitz screamed, but I was already moving over the couch, kicking one soldier in the face with my sock covered feet as another tried to drag me onto the floor. I felt the plane jerk downward and the man fell away. I grabbed at one seatbelt, pushing against the couch to give the other to Grant, who gripped it before kicking another soldier away. Another managed to grab my leg, his finger in the bullet wound on my thigh. I screamed, trying to get him off by kicking at his shoulders.

“Fitz! We got it! Reel us back in!” Skye shouted as Jemma pried the 0-8-4 from the wall.

I watched in practically slow motion as she unbuckled herself. Grant’s hand slipped from the seat belt and he cursed, fumbling to get a grip on anything he could. I tore my eyes from Skye and kicked a leg out, despite my entire body screaming in pain. Grant grabbed a hold of my ankle, grimacing when he heard my involuntary yelp. The soldier finally let go, his fingers dragging down my leg.

The plane slowly came back up, and both Grant and I dropped on the floor. The man that had been gripping my leg started to hit him, punching him in the ribs. One of the first men Grant had taken care of was now back on his hands and knees, crawling toward me with a shard of glass. I scrambled away, only to see another soldier cornering Fitz-Simmons. I jumped over the couch to help them.

“Cut him loose!” I shouted.

Fitz hit at his buckle until the man went flying, and I secured one hand on Jemma’s cord, the other catching Fitz as he fell.

“Sorry Ward!” Jemma shouted as the man fell onto him, pulling him toward the opening.

“Grant!” I screamed as he caught hold of a railing, trying to pull the man back inside.

His sleeve slipped from my brother’s hand, and as he looked down at it somberly, his grip came off the pole and he flew toward the gaping hole in the plane.

“Grant!” I shrieked, relieved to see, once again in slow motion, one of the liferafts coming to cover up the hole, Grant falling into the center of it with a heavy breath.

I pushed myself to my feet, ignoring the searing pain in my leg as I ran to him, collapsing next to him with a sob. He practically pulled me into his lap, throwing his head backward and rubbing my arm. He jerked forward, and I looked over to see one of the soldiers crawling toward a gun. Coulson stepped in front of us and trapped the man’s hand under his foot. I felt my brother relax once more before pushing me off and grunting as he got to his feet. He bent over to pick me up, again onto his back. I watched as Skye sighed from the floor and Fitz-Simmons popped up from behind the counter.

“I read the safety pamphlet.” Skye came over to us.

“I think you might be the first.” Grant scoffed, slowly walking over to meet Coulson by the bar.

Everyone crowded around it, with the exception of Fitz, who was clinging to one of the columns with his eyes glazed over.

“No other way in, huh? I was just starting to warm up to this place.” Coulson sighed, picking up a broken glass off the floor.

Skye leaned over and placed a coaster under it before taking a seat.

“The 0-8-4 is cooling and stable.” Fitz was now calmer, one arm around the column and the other on his hip. “But we should call HQ and get it to the Slingshot as soon as possible.” He hugged the column again.

Jemma took a seat as Coulson walked over to Reyes, who was tied up to a pole. “Told you they were good.” He was proud.

“Why don’t you go hug your boyfriend? He looks a little scared.” Grant whispered over his shoulder, easing me onto the ground.

I laughed, pushing at his back with the little strength I had left before limping over to Fitz, who upon seeing my state, let go of the column and threw his arms around my middle without hesitation. I relaxed in his grip, sliding my arms around his shoulders and letting him hold my weight.

“I love you.” His voice was hushed.

I let out a laugh, tightening my arms around him, happy he was okay. “I love you too, angel face.”

                                                           ***

When we got to the Slingshot, the first thing that happened was Jemma insisting on stitching my leg back up after cleaning it, much to my refusal. Then, we took showers, and then, technical crew started to take care of our bus. Somewhere along the way, Grant and I had demanded coffee and Fitz-Simmons had begged for tea.

I watched as Coulson cleaned a smudge off of Lola, turning and talking to Skye.

“Looks like Skye might end up as more than a consultant, despite our reservations.” Grant was busy repacking weapons into their cases, letting me put my weight against his side.

May only nodded.

“She could turn into a solid asset. With some serious work.”

“Well, if she wants to be a field agent, she’ll need a supervising officer. Someone disciplined. Someone good.” She looked at Grant, who was only nodding.

I giggled, looking up at him. He caught May’s stare and made a face.

“Okay. I’ll do it.”

I laughed this time.

“Just to be clear, you were talking about me. Right?” He asked, but she didn’t give him an answer.

“I was thinking, maybe even a pair. Two people who could… tag team?” She raised an eyebrow.

Grant and I looked at each other with identical grins on our faces.

“We blew up a plane!” I could hear Fitz coming down the stairs.

“I had a new experience, that’s for sure.” Jemma sounded content, as always.

“Eat that, Professor Vaughn.”

“You had a new experience, but it was new for all of us!” She had a beer in her hand, and Fitz had a cooler.

“They’re happy.” May noted and I smiled.

“Hey, come on, you guys don’t wanna miss this.” Fitz stopped and handed me his beer so he could help me up.

I hopped onto my toes to kiss his cheek before letting him lead us to the edge of the ramp, sitting down and passing beers around. Fitz pulled me to sit between his legs and I settled happily against him, glad to have his arms around my middle gripping me like a lifeline. Our legs dangled off the edge.

“So it’ll take about a hundred and eighty days to reach the sun. Now yes, of course, it would’ve been faster if they’d used hydrogen-fueled APUs, but they’re having fun.” Fitz explained as Grant sat next to us, taking a beer.

“How many of those have you guys had?” Skye asked with a laugh.

“Skye.” Jemma chuckled and May sat next to her. “It’s important when in the field to unwind from time to time.”

“Yeah, yeah, especially after a hard day of everyone almost dying.” Fitz continued.

“Which doesn’t happen every day, right? It’s an anomaly, an irregularity! Not … the norm.” Jemma exclaimed.

Coulson stood at the edge instead of sitting. “Speaking of not the norm, who’s idea was it to blow a hole in this plane?”

We all went white, looking down. Fitz gripped me tighter, now afraid of Coulson’s anger. Skye hadn’t sat down, so when she spoke it came from behind.

“May said that the doors were tied to the pressurization, so I thought-”

“So we thought it would be the only way to release them.” I cut her off.

“It was everyone’s idea, sir.” Grant jumped in.

“Yes, quite genius, really.” Fitz perked up.

“Nice work.” Coulson broke a smile and we all relaxed again.

Even May smiled and I leaned back against Fitz with a smile, laughing when Grant made a disgusted face at us.

“All clear for liftoff.” A voice came over the speakers.

“Oh, time for blastoff.” Fitz pinched his nose. “Launching in three, two…” He trailed off, watching as the rocket went up, leaving a gray trail.

“The trajectory will take it beyond the lagrange point so that it doesn’t hit Herschel.” He leaned over to explain to Grant.

“Yeah, and there haven’t been any coronal mass ejections, so it shouldn’t lose telemetry.” Jemma giggled.

“Guys, English.” Grant sighed happily.

There was no response as we watched it go up through the clouds. Grant patted Fitz’s back. He flinched and I laughed, looking from my brother to my boyfriend and then back up to the rocket, which was now out of sight. I curled up in Fitz’s lap, letting my forehead fall against his neck as I closed my eyes. Coulson excused himself, presumably to go get chewed out by Fury. Skye still hadn’t sat down. May and Grant slowly finished their beers, and then excused themselves to finish packing up weapons. Jemma soon followed, taking the cooler too. I caught Fitz giving her a look as I twisted around to have my side against his chest.

“Why are you making everyone leave?” I looked up at him.

He only smiled.

“Leo. Come on.” I pressed a kiss to the underside of his jaw.

“Just want you and the sunset, nothing else.” He muttered, kissing my forehead.

I smiled. “Hey. I’m glad you’re still alive.”

He looked down at me, a wide smile growing on his baby face. “I’m glad I’m alive too. And to be completely clear, I’m overjoyed that you’re still alive.” His hand came to my face, thumb stroking my cheek.

I kissed the palm of his hand. “I think Grant sorta likes you.”

“Oh yeah?” He laughed. “What makes you say that?”

“You’ve been doing nerd-speak since we finished the fight, and he hasn’t wanted to murder you yet.”

“And how exactly do you know that?” He grinned.

“I can read his facial expressions.” I smiled.

He pulled me in to peck my lips. “That’s amazing, darlin’. I’m really glad for you. I guess you getting shot snapped him back to reality?”

I nodded. “I think so.”

“Well, glad to see I wasn’t the only one.”

“What do you mean?” I leaned into his arms, tilting my head.

“Nothing special.” He shrugged. “Just realized how much I love you is all.”

I smiled wider this time, sitting up and grabbing him by the neck. “God, I love you. Why do I love you so much?” I peppered his face in kisses, feeling him chuckle.

“What can I say, I’m a romantic.” He shrugged once I pulled back.

I rolled my eyes and suppressed a smile, letting him pull me forward to meet my lips once more.

#leopold fitz #leopold fitz x reader #grant ward x reader #grant ward x oc #agents of shield #agents of shield imagine #fitz #leo fitz #grant ward #leo fitz x reader #leo fitz x oc #grant ward x sister!reader #grant ward x sister!oc #micaelawrites #my posts #my writing #micwrites

[winchesterbrotherstan]

Agents of Shield- The Asset

Pairing: Leo Fitz x Violet Ward (OC)

Summary: An old man is kidnapped, Skye struggles with her training, Grant, Skye, and Coulson go in head-first, Violet is worried about everything

Warnings: cursing, fighting, an explosion, uh maybe some blood?

Word Count:  8786

“Is she coming?” I held the punching bag steady for Grant, trying to put equal weight on both my legs.

“She’s supposed to be. Hey, ease up on your leg if you need to.” He pointed, stopping his punches, noticing how I shifted from one leg to the other.

“It’s fine.” I shook my head.

“No, it is not. Listen to him.” Fitz scolded from the lab.

“Shut up, Leo.”

“I’m sorry, love, but the boys are right. Don’t put too much stress on it, or you’ll be back to square one with fingers through your stitches.” Jemma gave me a kind smile, hinting to a few nights ago when our bus had been attacked.

“Haha.” Grant taunted, sticking his tongue out.

I took a jab at him, only for him to step to the side and catch me in a headlock. He laughed as I shook loose, eyes squinted.

“That was uncalled for.” I stuck my nose up in the air, turning my head to the side and ignoring him.

He cleared his throat and I looked to see Skye coming down the steps. Grant put his serious face on and went back to punching the bag.

“You know you’re late.” He eyed her.

“I’m tired from this morning’s workout. I thought I was joining S.H.I.E.L.D., not 24 hour fitness.” She sighed, giving him her hands so he could check over her wrappings.

“It’s called relative strength training. Starting with the basics. And next time, you do fifteen push-ups for every minute you’re late.” He readjusted one.

“Fine, Mr. Fun Machine. Better than pull ups. I don’t ever wanna do another pull up again.” She stated.

“You find yourself hanging off the edge of a building twenty stories up, you’re gonna wanna do at least one.” He gave her a face before turning to instruct her.

I turned to watch Fitz-Simmons in the lab, working on some sort of laser or whatever it was. Fitz caught me staring and winked at me with a goofy smile before going back to his work.

“I’m sure Fitz-Simmon’s supervising officer didn’t make them do this muscle stuff.” She hit the bag with both hands.

“You said you wanted to be a field agent, like Coulson.” Grant shrugged. “But, if you’d like to switch disciplines…” He nodded toward Fitz-Simmons, still hard at work in the lab, then looked at me.

Is she being serious?

I gave her a once-over and smiled at Grant.

Let me take care of it.

“Vi, what did your SO make you do when you were in training for psych?” Grant looked at me with eyebrows raised and a smile on his face.

“Psychoanalytics, fill-ins for the DSM-5, brain parts, ethics… I can keep going. Hey Simmons. What did your SO give you guys for morning drills?” I called out to her from my spot against the wall.

“Oh! Atomistic attribute drills. Yeah, we’d name the mechanical, chemical, thermal-” She spouted.

Skye rolled her eyes at me and threw a lazy punch.

“The electrical properties of materials.” Fitz finished.

“Okay, okay, they made your point.”

“There will come a moment where you have to commit to this or bail.” Grant moved around the bag to hold it for her. “Every field agent has a defining moment. Ask Coulson. When you have to make the hard call to either dedicate yourself to this or to curl up in a ball and run.”

“How can you run if you’re curled up in a ball?” Skye gestured before going back to throwing punches.

“It’s my job as your SO to make sure you don’t die before then. Come on.” He fixed her hands and patted the bag again.

“So what was yours, Agent Ward?” She asked him.

“Ten minutes.” He dodged the question.

“Your defining moment?”

He ignored her.

“Come on, tell me. I wanna know. I could get Coulson to give you some of that truth serum. You could spill your little heart to me all over again.” She smiled.

“You mean my level one overshare that miraculously got you to cooperate? I hate to tell you this, rookie, but we don’t have a truth serum.”

“Changing course, briefing in three. Shield 6-1-6 with new orders, set for Colorado air field north.” May came over the comms.

“Ah, looks like we’re on the move.” Fitz pulled his lab coat off and hung it in the corner before coming to my side and taking my hand, leading the way up the stairs.

We settled on the couches in the main room, sprawled out as Coulson came through the hallway. Fitz pulled me into his side and I swung my leg over his, comfortable in his grip.

“A few minutes ago, a S.H.I.E.L.D. transport was attacked while carrying a priority red protected asset off route 76 near Sterling.”

“Priority red?” Jemma asked, and Grant let out a low whistle as he sat on the armchair next to Fitz and I.

“The asset was Canadian physicist Dr. Franklin Hall, known for his work-”

“Oh no! Not Frank!” Jemma gasped.

Fitz leaned forward, a sad expression on his face, “Dr. Hall? He was our chemical kinetics advisor our second year.”

“Yeah, he’s so enthusiastic about science, we just adored him!” Jemma sighed. “We can rescue him, can’t we?”

“He’s one of ours. We’re gonna try.” Coulson nodded.

“And the attackers?” Grant asked.

“Invisible.” Coulson walked off.

“Wait. Invisible? Cool!” Skye laughed, and Grant shot her a look. “But terrible.” She cleared her throat.

                                                             ***

“Dr. Hall was an asset?” Skye questioned as we walked down the road, squinting in the dark.

“One of a few select scientists S.H.I.E.L.D. has been protecting, people our enemies would love to get their hands on. We keep them hidden, we keep them on the move.” Coulson explained.

“Which is why Fitz and I were so lucky to have him.” Jemma spoke from the other end of the line, next to Fitz.

May, in the middle, stayed silent as usual. Grant and I exchanged a few looks, but he was soon focused on observing the street we were walking along for any potential threats.

“We don’t have him anymore.” Coulson grunted out.

“And what does priority red mean?” Skye asked again.

“It means security should have been…” he trailed off as we saw an SUV flipped over onto the side of the road. “Heavy.”

A fox scurried out from the bushes and to the road. Fitz jumped and Grant’s hand flew to his gun. I looked over to see the fox with blood stains on its white snout. I looked up to Grant again. His grimace matched mine.

Well, that’s just wonderful.

                                                            ***

“It was pretty damn scary, and I don’t spook easily, boss.” Agent Mack was the only one left alive, and even he was pretty banged up.

May had gone with him to ask questions while Fitz-Simmons did their usual rounds of inspection with Skye tagging along. Grant was surveying lord knows what and I stood off to May’s side, picking up cues from Agent Mack that he didn’t even realize he was giving off.

“Nothing in the air from above?” May asked.

“Nothing over our shoulder.” He shook his head, “But what’s scary is they knew our route. They were waiting for us.”

“Are you saying they were working with somebody inside S.H.I.E.L.D.?” I took a step closer to the van he was sitting in.

“Sorry to say.” He shrugged. “It had to be.”

“Fitz, what am I seeing here?” Jemma shouted, causing the turning of heads.

“Well, I’m not wearing the full-spectrum goggles I designed, so no clue.” He chuckled, walking over to her with his tablet in his hands.

Coulson gave me a nod of his head and I followed them, rolling my eyes with a smile at Fitz’s nerd speak.

“Let me have a look. Come on.” He held his hand out for the goggles.

“Whoa, whoa, wait! Wait, no! Don’t move.” She ordered, holding her hands out to stop him.

Skye stopped immediately, but Fitz, as always, was clumsy and almost took another step forward. I grabbed him by the back of the shirt and pulled him backward.

“Wait a second.” Jemma whispered, kneeling to throw a fistful of dirt and gravel into the air.

It swirled, like a mini tornado.

“What the hell?” Skye took a step back.

“I think the electro-static field scanner activated some… thing.” She smiled.

A rock flew loose from the air pattern, flinging itself at us. I felt a hand on my head and I was forced to go down faster than I could duck myself. Fitz let out a yelp and Grant shoved me half behind him, staring at the thing with squinted eyes.

“Okay, can we deactivate it?” Coulson asked. “Now?”

She hit a few buttons on her tablet, and the swirl only seemed to gain an angry conscious, throwing more things at us. I ducked behind my brother, pulling Skye down with me. Fitz let out a second yelp before barking something about density at Jemma.

“I tried, Fitz!” She shouted, handing him the control.

I pushed out from behind my brother and tugged Fitz away from the swirl as he fumbled with the remote. I felt a thunk against my head and winced.

“Fitz!” May raised her voice.

He hit another two buttons before the remote shorted out and the swirling pieces dropped to the floor. Jemma bent down to pick up a twisted looking piece of metal and glass with a pair of tweezers, dropping it in Coulson’s outstretched hand.

“That did all this.”

“What is that?” Skye asked.

Coulson stared at it, rolling it in his hand. “Something big.”

                                                            ***

We stood in a ring around the lab table, with the exception of Grant, who had told me what he was off to do, but I hadn’t listened. Fitz had the object in some sort of a microscope, with lit up goggles on his head.

“Either someone cracked our comm system, or Dr. Hall’s movements leaked from inside S.H.I.E.L.D..” Coulson was quiet.

“You really think we have a mole?” May asked him.

Jemma and I stood at the side of the table, watching as Fitz worked.

“I think you should go through the communication logs, rule it out.” He said with his hands crossed neatly. “We’ll work the tractor tread that we found on the scene.”

“I can do that.” Skye popped up. “Instead of pull-ups. I can upload an image of the tread pattern, check to see if there’s any sort of-”

“Already done.” Grant popped back in.

Right, he had gone to do that.

“Matched it to a 2010 model. Found a list of purchases within a 500-mile radius, narrowed it down to those with priors, financial troubles, or propensity for risk-taking.” He set it up to show on the computer.

“Three suspects.” He pointed as the pictures appeared.

“Who may have sold their construction equipment to the kidnappers.” Coulson’s arms were now crossed. “We’ll ask.”

Grant nodded and pulled the images off the screen. He turned to look at me over his shoulder, and I followed him out of the lab.

“You feeling any better? How’s your leg?” He looked down, slowing his step.

“It’s fine. You don’t have to slow down for me.” I scoffed, secretly grateful that he hadn’t forced me to trot up the stairs.

“I know. There’s a lot of things I don’t have to do.” He sat down at the bar. “So. Give me a runthrough. Why would someone kidnap a physicist?”

I hoisted myself to sit on the counter and grinned. “Maybe their kid needed tutoring?”

Grant rolled his eyes and pushed at my knee with his foot, essentially kicking me. “I don’t remember you being this joke-y before.”

I laughed. “I use humor to mask my emotions now. Ya know, like an adult.”

“Okay, okay. But for real. Why would someone kidnap a S.H.I.E.L.D. protected physicist? What good does a physicist even do?”

I rolled my eyes at him. “Physics is actually pretty cool, you people just don’t think it is. Physics covers a lot. My best guess within reason? Some evil rich person has a half-hacked plan to take over the world but needs a professional to help him seal the deal.” I shrugged.

Grant sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I hate the fact that that sounds like a valid, logical, reason.”

I laughed. “Well, we do work for S.H.I.E.L.D..”

“Yeah, okay. But I’ll bet you fifty dollars it’s some weird organization and not someone rich.” Grant snorted.

“You sure you wanna bet on that?” I grinned again.

                                                            ***

“I just wanna know who paid you.” Coulson asked calmly as Grant and I crept around Lola, crouched.

The man paused, then yanked a gun out. “Paid me enough not to answer questions like that.” He aimed at Coulson.

Grant gave me a glance over my shoulder before moving, pulling the gun from the man’s hand and him along with it. I ran to grab the horse by the reigns, trying to calm it. The man landed on his back with a grunt, hands up as Grant pointed the gun at his head.

“Feels like the old west.” He turned to me with a faint smile as Coulson stepped closer to speak to the man again.

“They gave me money for my equipment, that’s all. I never saw a face. I never heard a name.” He had his hands up, eyes darting between Coulson and Grant.

“And how did you receive this money? They write you a check?”

The man sighed and pointed to the side pouch on the horse’s saddle. Grant looked at me and jerked his head in that direction. I patted the horse’s neck before moving over to open the bag, which was filled with gold bars.

“Paid you in gold?” Coulson picked a bar up.

I looked at Grant. “Now it really feels like the old west.”

                                                            ***

“It looks like this because it’s a doré bar. It means it was made in a mine rather than a refinery. It’s only about 92% pure, the cowboy got cheated a bit.” Jemma explained.

“Can you determine a mine based off the impurities?” Coulson asked.

“Oh, yeah, we’ve done that already.” Fitz went to the computer. “It’s from the dacey mine in Tanzania, which is owned by-”

“Quinn Worldwide.” I came to his side as I cut him off, glancing at Coulson.

“I’m sure you’ve studied the CEO in your chemical engineering classes or saw him on the cover of Forbes. Ian Quinn.” Coulson sighed and walked out of the lab, up to the steps.

“He’s a sociopath.” I scoffed.

“I mean…” Jemma tried to put her positive twist on it, but to no avail.

“Who is?” Grant came into the lab, looking at me with furrowed eyebrows.

“Ian Quinn.” I said as Fitz pulled up a picture and turned his monitor so Grant could see. “Spoiled, bratty, millionaire evil genius.” I quirked an eyebrow.

Grant sighed deeply and pulled out his wallet, handing me two twenties and a ten. I pocketed them with a smile, giving him a half-hug as a thanks before going upstairs with Coulson.

                                                            ***

“Darlin’, come downstairs. I’ve got a feeling you might wanna hear this.” Fitz came over the comms in our room and I rolled over in the bed, dropping my book onto my nightstand as I hit the button to answer.

“Are you sure I’m gonna wanna hear about it? I’m reading.”

“Well…” He paused and I could hear him clear his throat. “It’s a scientific breakthrough, darlin’.”

He knew he had me then. Any breakthrough was amazing, whether it was scientific or psychological or whatever else. I pulled one a pair of fuzzy socks and all but bolted down the stairs to the lab.

“Jeez, what’s the rush?” Skye asked, coming down the steps after me.

“Scientific breakthrough, come on.” I grabbed her hand and tugged.

“What is it, you guys?” I popped up to sit on the counter in front of the holotable, resting my chin on Fitz’s shoulder.

“Gravitonium.” He put his hands on his hips.

“What?” Skye asked, unimpressed.

“Holy shit.” I mumbled, wrapping my arms around one of his and leaning forward.

“It’s an extremely rare high-atomic numbered element.” He explained.

“It powers the device.” Jemma continued. “It’s so extremely rare that most people didn’t believe it existed, much less the theory that an isolated positive charge-”

“Yeah, would turn the flow from isotropic-” Fitz continued.

“Guys.” Skye interrupted them. “High school dropout here.”

Fitz looked at me, his hand frozen and his face confused. He didn’t know how to put many things into simple terms. I patted his back and tried to give him a guideline.

“How does the device work again?”

“Well, gravitonium distorts gravity fields within itself, causing an undulating, amorphous shape.” Jemma tried to explain, as Fitz was still stuck.

“Which causes these, um…” He pointed, trying to find an easy word. “Wiggly bits here! But when an electric current is applied,” he motioned with his fingers and I felt a goofy smile grow on my face. “The gravitonium solidifies. And those gravity fields erupt,” he continued to mime it and I held back my laughs. “Randomly changing the rules of gravity around it.”

Skye looked at me and I felt myself turn pink, trying again not to burst out laughing. Fitz gave my leg a squeeze before running over to the other side of the lab, now completely invested in his explanation.

“Well, so now you can imagine what would happen to a big rig at 100 kilometers per hour.” He rushed to sit at his computer, and then froze up a bit. “Or, well, you could just remember, ‘cause we saw it already, didn’t we?”

I walked over as he picked at his lips and then bit his nails as Jemma began to speak. I gently pulled his hand away from his mouth, linking his fingers through mine. He smiled at me softly and pulled our hands back to his mouth to kiss my knuckles.

“Come here.” He tugged me up to sit on his thighs with my side to his chest as he brought his arms around my middle and started to type.

I looked over to Skye, who winked at me.

“Guess which genius published every theory about gravitonium and possible applications years ago?” Jemma asked.

“Dr. Franklin Hall.” Skye answered.

“Correct.” Fitz-Simmons nodded.

“And Dr. Hall attended the University of Cambridge at the same time as Ian Quinn.” I looked at the files Fitz had pulled up on the computer.

“Violet, I think you might be off on this. Quinn’s a notoriously good guy.” Skye shook her head. “His charity endowment’s something like eight billion dollars.”

“Yeah, with money made from leeching the Earth of its resources. Looks like he’s dug up another.” Jemma scoffed.

“He’s textbook, Skye. Tries to give himself a good public image when in reality, dude’s only watching his own back.” I called without turning back to her.

“That’s my girl.” Fitz mumbled under his breath, still focused on the screen as one hand pulled mine up and he kissed it again.

                                                            ***

“The man’s a prisoner, and it’s up to us to get him out!” Coulson was growing more frustrated by the minute.

“We’ve checked the specs. There’s no way into Quinn’s compound without a large S.H.I.E.L.D. strike force, or a man inside. He’s got neodymium laser fencing surrounding the property.” Grant scoffed.

“They’ll never allow a strike force into Malta.” I shook my head. “Plus, this weekend, Quinn Worldwide’s got its annual shareholders gathering. We’d risk global outrage. But…” I trailed off, looking to Grant.

Not if we go it by ourselves.

He sighed, but nobody else seemed to understand the nonverbality. Coulson picked up the slack for them.

“If we go in alone, S.H.I.E.L.D. can disavow us, claim ignorance.”

“Without a man inside, it’s impossible, unless you’re immune to pulse laser emissions.” May leaned against the table.

Fitz sighed from next to me and Jemma held her hands against her neck, her nervous tic. Fitz stood straight, and I already knew what was coming, but the amusement it would provide outweighed my desire to stop him in his tracks.

“If we had a monkey, we could get in.”

“Ah, Fitz!” Jemma seemed annoyed.

“If we had a small monkey, he could slip through the sensors and disable the fence’s power source with his adorable little hands.” Fitz put his hands up.

I bit back a smile as Grant looked at me with a face. I grabbed Fitz’s arm and pulled him tight against my side, smiling up at him.

“Now’s not the time, angel face.” I whispered.

“I could go in.” Skye had walked in at some point, and was now leaning nonchalantly against the wall, phone in hand.

“Drop me in the hills outside of Valletta. I’ll spend a few weeks establishing a cover, gathering intel-”

“We don’t have the time, Grant.” I cut him off, shaking my head.

“And to restate, any agent of S.H.I.E.L.D. caught on Maltese soil can be shot to death with bullets- legally.” Jemma gestured.

“Not me.” Skye spoke again. “I could go in.” She now took a step forward.

“Skye, this is serious.” Grant brushed her off.

“No.” I stopped him. “She’s right. She’s not an agent.” I looked to Coulson, who seemed to agree.

“This isn’t something the Rising Tide can hack, Skye.” Grant said with a layer of disgust in his tone.

“Did you hear the deadly lasers part?” Fitz looked from her to me, hands on his head. “Without a brave monkey-” I clapped a hand over his mouth and looked to Skye, a signal for her to explain.

“You said you could go in with a man inside.” She shrugged.

“And you wanna be that man?” May’s eyebrows were raised.

“Fitz-Simmons loved the guy, and he needs help. They could be torturing him. Or worse, making him do strength-training.” She glared at Grant.

“She’s a hacker, she can easily apply that to playing a role.” I rolled my eyes at him, sensing his upcoming protests.

“But she doesn’t have the background or clearance or experience with any of this.” He turned away from me and walked toward her, growing increasingly agitated.

“I know.” She put her phone up. “But I’ve got an invitation. Well, technically, it’s an evite.” She looked to me with a smile.

I didn’t bother to hold back my grin. She was something, that was for sure. I trusted she could do it, and if anything went wrong, Grant and I would figure out a way to pull her out if necessary. Grant looked at me with a sigh.

This is a bad idea.

I shrugged.

It’s the only one we have.

And although I wouldn’t admit it, I much preferred this to him going undercover.

                                                            ***

“Grant!” I caught him coming out of Coulson’s office, fuming.

He turned to me. “It’s a bad idea. Actually, no” he began to gesture wildly, “it’s not just a bad idea, it’s the worst idea! She’s gonna get herself killed! She doesn’t know what she’s doing! And then what? We’re back at square one with one of our people down?”

“Hey.” I grabbed him by the wrist and pulled his arm down. “First of all, breathe. It’s gonna be fine. And secondly, we have a few days. You’re her SO.”

“Again. First on paper, but you’re on there too.”

I ignored him. “Keep training her. Get her ready physically, I’ll worry about getting her mind in the right state. We’ve tag-teamed before, let’s just do it again.” I looked up, eyebrows raised in the way Jemma always said was my ‘mom face’.

“Yeah, we’ve tag-teamed against a group of rebels shooting at us. Are you sure we can tag-team her?” He crossed his arms across his chest.

I threw my head back with an exaggerated groan and rolled my eyes. “Grant. We’ve tag-teamed Christian before. I think we can handle a hacker.”

I knew mentioning our older brother would be a risk, and I watched as his face changed and he became a few shades lighter. But it worked, because he was soon nodding and meeting my eyes.

“Let’s do it. I’ll head downstairs to do muscle memories. Come with, sit and watch. Let your little psych brain work some stuff out.” He held his hand out for mine and I stared for a second.

I couldn’t remember the last time Grant had held my hand. I knew that we always did when we were younger, because our family spent all our time out of the house and on trips, and Grant was the only one who had seemed to care that I didn’t get split up.

“Hey.” He whispered, leaning down to meet my eyes. “You’re okay.” He nodded, flexing his fingers.

I snapped out of it with a nod, slipping my hand into his and letting him lead the way down to the garage.

                                                            ***

“Now, again, slowly, what’s first?” Grant held the unloaded gun level with Skye’s chest as they went over the maneuver once more.

She gripped his wrist and pushed it up, twirling under his arm and pressing herself into his chest, the gun still in his hand but under her control.

“And then?” Grant followed up.

She paused and I shifted on the metal steps, trying to find some sense of comfort. This had been going on for an hour, and I was surprised that Grant hadn’t snapped by now. My neck ached, my hips were burning, and my leg was throbbing. This was the last day we had to train her. Mentally, she was ready. But that was worth nothing if she couldn’t evade getting shot.

“Then things are moving too quickly. I’m a proper Southern girl-”

I watched Grant throw his head back with an eye roll that looked like it hurt as she pulled on an accent.

“You’ll make me untidy.”

“Twist the thumb, palm the barrel.” He moved his hands over hers to repeat the motions, a bit harshly.

“Ow.” She winced, taking her hand back and shaking it.

“You’re gonna die and leave us hanging out to dry, you know that?” He tucked the gun into the waistband of his jeans. “You’re going in with no self-defense skills-”

“I have a few tricks up my sleeve.” She cut him off, crossing her arms.

“That isn’t enough. You need muscle memory, fundamentals, the tools to turn yourself-”

“Into a whole bag of tools?” She cut him off.

“Okay Skye, how did you learn computer science if you didn’t fully commit to it?” I asked, trying to find a better approach on teaching her.

“C.S. comes naturally to me. I’m sorry I’m not naturally whatever he is.” She pointed at Grant with a grunt.

He looked at me, neck snapping like it was broken.

What the fucking hell?

I returned the look, trying to ease his tension.

It’s okay. Calm down, and explain it. Don’t lose your head.

The air tensed, and I watched Grant’s fist curl. One mention of our childhood was enough to last a few months. Twice in one week was a major overload.

“You think this came naturally?” He stood straighter, shoulders squared as he took a predatory step toward her. “I had a brother who beat the crap out of me- and Violet. For nothing, for eating a piece of his birthday cake. I had to learn to protect us. The way I am trying to protect you. That was my moment. You asked.” He was towering over her now, and I could feel what he was feeling.

Anger, contempt, sadness, fear, every other negative emotion that you could possibly name. I watched as Skye slouched a little, looking from him to me and then at the floor.

“Sorry.” She looked up again. “Didn’t mean to push. But… I did manage to take this.” She pulled the gun up with a smile.

Grant took it back, his emotions gone and the heartless soldier back at play. “Getting the gun is one thing. Pulling the trigger- that is another.” He put the gun back to her chest. “Now, again, slowly, what’s first?”

                                                            ***

“Skye will walk in the front door.” Coulson paced, trying to keep awake.

It was six in the morning, and none of us had gotten nearly enough sleep. I was leaning back against Fitz, who had his arm around me as he breathed deeply. May and Jemma seemed wide-awake, and Grant was taking a mental nap in the corner, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed.

“The only external access point to Quinn’s underground facility is from a beach cove. A two-man extraction team could slip in there, but it’s not easy. Fitz-Simmons.” He handed it over to them and Fitz begrudgingly kissed my cheek before leaving my side and joining Jemma at the screen.

“The perimeter is surrounded by a twenty foot high neodymium laser grid. Touch it, and you’re toast.” He looked at me as he spoke, as if he were also struggling to stay awake.

“Dead toast. The only way to disable the grid is to crack the system and trigger a reboot. This would give the team three seconds to cross. Of course, Quinn’s too smart to allow any wireless access on his property.” Coulson walked through it.

“That’s where I come in.” Skye nodded.

“Yes.” Jemma opened the black case on the table.

I couldn’t see with everyone standing around it, but Fitz grabbed my hand and pulled me in front of him, squeezing my shoulders after I padded over.

“Working compact- holds up under X-ray.”

“Desert rose. To match your complexion.” Fitz pointed at the small mirror. “But oh, what’s this?” He picked it up, slinging his arms over my shoulders so I wouldn’t have to switch spots again. “A readout, okay? Turns green if you’re in close enough proximity to a computer to gain wireless access.”

“When it does, you just drop this nearby and walk out. We’ll do the rest. Easy as pie.” Jemma smiled as Fitz closed the mirror.

“Or it will be. If you stick to the plan.” Grant spoke for the first time since we had gathered in the conference room to review the plan.

“Got it. Plan, green, drop, walk… pie.” Skye smiled.

Fitz handed her the mirror and she took it with a small thank you, flipping it around in her hands as Jemma explained something to her. Fitz turned me around and pulled me to lean against him, arms over my shoulders as I let my head fall into its spot against his neck.

“Alright team. Suit up.”

                                                            ***

“Wife’s name is Nadrah.” May filled in the gap for Skye, swiping around on the holotable.

“Sir, are you sure you don’t want me to go in? Grant and I work really well together, and that way you don’t have to go out into the field.” I tried to reason with Coulson, who was gathering his gear.

“I’m sure, Violet. You stay here, keep Fitz-Simmons calm. You know they panic in intense situations. And don’t worry. I’ll keep your brother safe.” He patted my shoulder with a smile before brushing past me.

I sighed and looked up to the ceiling. Fitz walked in, handing me a bowl of popcorn and a water bottle. He gave me puppy eyes and I followed him to the holotable, where May was still directing Skye.

“How’s she doing?” Fitz whispered before shoving popcorn into his mouth.

“She’s good.” Both Jemma and May whispered back.

“I could get used to this, people. It’s like Siri if it worked.” Skye spoke. “Skipper to Bravo. I’ve got eyes on Top Dog. The Eagle is landing on it.”

We all looked at each other, and May let a small smile twitch past her lips despite her eye roll. I giggled and hopped up to sit on the table.

“What are you doing?” Jemma asked.

“Uh, sorry, I-I dunno. I see Quinn, I’m gonna go talk to him.”

Jemma smiled hopefully and May remained stoic. Fitz offered me popcorn. I only opened my mouth, letting him throw the pieces in and laughing when he missed horribly.

We heard Skye laugh over her comm. “Yeah, right? Ian Quinn. I’m your last-minute party crasher. Skye.”

“Oh. Wow.” We could hear Quinn too, albeit faintly. “Great to meet you. Um, this is Skye, a member of the Rising Tide. They’re a group of hackers. They’ve gotten some pretty big secrets out to the public.”

“I prefer hacktivist. I’m glad you’ve heard of our site.”

“I read it. We think very much alike. More freedom of information, less government infringing on everyone’s rights. I’m a fan.”

I rolled my eyes and grabbed at Fitz’s tie, pulling him to stand between my legs so I could lean against him.

“That explains the invite. This is a tough party to get into.”

“Not as hard to get into as the encrypted back channel you contacted us through to request the invite.” His tone was annoying, and he was trying to flirt with her.

“That’s sort of where I live.” I heard Skye force a laugh.

“You’ve got to show me how you did that- I mean, if you sign on.”

She paused. “Sign what, now?”

“I’ve been known to turn a few black hats into white hats, not just for vulnerability analysis, but for very creative thinking.”

Skye hesitated and I rolled my eyes again, thumping my head against Fitz’s shoulder. He only rubbed my back.

“A-are you offering me a job?”

“Well I didn’t invite you here for your pretty face. I didn’t know you had a pretty face.”

I looked over my shoulder at May, who only shook her head and mirrored my eye roll. Fitz caught my look and tutted at me, pulling me back against him and kissing the top of my head.

“Yes, I wanna hire you, before someone else snatches you up.”

“That seemed to go well.” May noted.

“Yeah. It did.” She breathed out, and her tone seemed different, but I was tired beyond belief.

Grant and I had spent the entire night awake, sparring to try and blow off steam. The mention of our older brother twice in three nights had shaken us both to our cores, and then we were awake and angry. We had gone until three in the morning, at which point I realized the time and sent him to bed because he had to be alert to be the extraction tomorrow. I had spent another two hours on the punching bag. At that point, Fitz came downstairs with pajamas and sleepy eyes, looking for me. We hopped in the shower together because he was scared I’d pass out and drown if I were by myself, and I fell asleep afterward, with only half an hour left until we had to be up to start our day all over again.

The comm stuck in my ear crackled to life, and I was relieved to hear Grant on the other end.

“Hey Vi. We’re here. Keep you updated.”

“Sounds good, bubs.” I mumbled back.

I could hear Coulson over the comms, saying something about Grant’s personality setting Dr. Hall on edge. I scoffed a laugh and turned my head into Fitz’s shoulder.

“It’s locked, but there’s no lock.” I heard Skye.

Fitz grabbed another handful of popcorn. “Eh, check for a keypad.”

“Nothing. What, you can hack a keypad?”

“No, not over the phone.” He mumbled, bringing the bowl of popcorn over my shoulder and placing it in my lap.

“Is there a reception desk?” May asked.

“Okay, yeah. Well now what do I do?”

“What are you trying to do?” Quinn’s voice came over her comm and we froze.

“Just… looking for a pen,” she laughed nervously. “Here we go. Gotta write down all those good ideas, you know what I mean? Of course you know what I mean, you probably have like ten pens for all your ideas…”

“What are you really doing?” His tone escalated.

Skye took a long pause. We stared at each other and I pressed the comm in my ear.

“Grant? She might’ve just been made.”

“Noted.” He grunted back and then was gone as quickly as he had come.

“Alright. I’m busted. I was trying to get a glimpse behind your office doors, see how things really operate.”

“I invite you here as a guest, you treat me like another corrupt institution, looking for trade secrets to leak online. Security-”

“No, no, no, wait. It’s just… with all these la-di-da people, you have to be so guarded, so … careful. What you say. What secrets you reveal. And … I was hoping that you and I… could be honest with one another. If you know what I mean.”

There was another long pause, and then there was a creaking of doors and Skye was back to normal. Fitz had climbed onto the table to sit behind me, forcing me to swing my legs to the other edge of the table. The popcorn was still in my lap, and I was grateful, because that way the warmth of his arms never left my sides.

“My office had less space, more wheels. Wow. A view of the ocean and the pool.”

“Not a bad place to do business.” Quinn flirted back.

“Got the dispatch leaking Hall’s location. User’s an alias.”

“Oh, can you trace the DHCP server-”

May cut Fitz off. “Trace is running, but it’ll take time. How’s our girl?” She asked, referring to Skye.

“I thought she was done for, but she just sweet-talked her way into Quinn’s office.” Jemma exclaimed.

“Grant. She’s good. She’s in.”

“You sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure, idiot.” I scoffed.

The line clicked off without a response.

“How’d she manage that?” May asked.

I sputtered, shaking my head. Fitz squirmed behind me, using his hands as he spoke.

“She probably just used her, um, uhh…” He stumbled as Jemma and May shot him glares.

I turned to see his hands cupping his chest.

“Uh, her uh… boobs.” He spat out.

I rolled my eyes and got off the table, leaving the bowl in his lap and standing at his side.

“Ugh! That’s the only explana-” Jemma was cut off by static.

I looked down to see Skye’s comm gone. “Shit, the signal’s dead.”

“Fitz, what did you do?” Jemma hit his arm.

“What- I didn’t do anything! She must’ve- oh lord.” He sighed.

May looked at me. “She’s double crossing us.”

I shook my head. “No, no, no, no, no. Stop. We’re not gonna jump to conclusions here, alright? She’s probably just got an idea.” I defended her.

“She’s supposed to stick to the plan!” I forgot my comm was on.

“She’s just offline. We lost audio and vitals.”

“Abort is not an option. But if she’s compromising-”

“She’s still your only way in to get to Dr. Hall. And you’re the only way out. Sit tight.” I rolled my eyes and clicked the comm off.

“Violet. Just think about it. Why else would she turn off her comm?” Fitz asked me, eyes kind.

“She’s got a plan. Just trust me. She’s gotta have a plan.” I clicked my comm back on. “Grant, just keep moving. This doesn’t change anything. I’ll keep you updated.”

He scoffed on the other end. “Since when are you so soft?”

“Can you put aside the bitch-fit for when you come back? Right now you have to focus on getting in and out, okay?” I rolled my eyes.

“Fine. Keep me updated.”

“I told you I would.” I rolled my eyes again, clicking my line off.

I looked around to see Fitz-Simmons and May blinking at me, eyes wide.

“What?”

“I just, uh…” Fitz trailed off, scratching the back of his neck.

“We haven’t ever really seen you like that is all, love.” Jemma offered a sweet smile.

“Your brother’s back and you’re acting different. It’s sort of amusing.” May shrugged, the most truthful.

“Hey, Vi?” Grant’s voice was calm and quiet.

“What’s wrong?” I perked up.

“We’re gonna have to take on this next patrol. Skye better hurry it the hell up or we’re dead. Just thought you should know.” He whispered.

I sighed. “Be careful.”

“Always.” It was followed by a grunt, and then the sounds of an unfair fight.

I sighed and watched as May eyed the holotable nervously. Skye was still offline. A few grunts later, Grant sighed.

“Guys, clocks ticking. Where’s Skye?” Coulson came on.

The holotable clicked, and her compact connected.

“We’re in!” May shouted.

“She’s done it!” Jemma squealed.

“Leo, you’re up.” I took the bowl from him.

“Oh, Mother of all things. Move, move! Move!” He all but shoved May aside, tie flying as he ran.

His fingers danced over the holotable, and his eyes darted around as he licked his lips. He was scared to screw it up.

“Vi, tell Fitz to hurry. They’re onto us.” Grant growled.

“Fitz is going as fast as he can!” I shouted back.

“Fitz!” Coulson called.

“Saying his name repeatedly does not increase productivity!” Jemma yelled, getting them to back off.

“Okay, go!” Fitz jumped.

“Or maybe it does.” Jemma tilted her head.

“Grant! Move, now!” I watched the three second timer on the screen.

“System rebooting in two, one, now!” Fitz counted it off.

There was a grunt and then silence.

“Grant?” The rise and fall of my chest became frantic.

I really hoped my brother hadn’t gotten cut in half by a twenty foot laser fence.

“We’re in.”

I sighed, letting out a breath. May had gone back to her computer, following the trace of the dispatch that had leaked Hall’s location. Fitz pulled me into a hug. I hooked my arms around his middle and buried my face into his shoulder, ignoring the itching of his cardigan against my nose.

“Oh no.” May was louder than usual. “Coulson. The leak came from-”

“Dr. Hall. Yeah, I’m getting that.”

There was a yelp and a grunt, and then Coulson’s comm cut out.

“Grant?”

“I’m here.”

“Coulson’s out. We don’t know what happened. Keep moving, get Skye. We’ll keep you updated. Be careful.”

“Always.”

                                                            ***

“Guys, we need to talk.” Coulson’s voice came over the comms.

“Lost you for a minute.” May sighed. “We’re aware of the problem, sir. Hall wanted Quinn to kidnap him?” She asked as we walked into the lab, where Fitz-Simmons were scrambling about.

“Yeah, why would he do that?” Fitz was disgruntled.

“What is wrong with him?” Jemma was distraught.

“Quinn built a gravity generator. Like the one we found but bigger. Hall knew Quinn would need him to control its raw power, but Hall just wanted to unleash it.”

“The one we found was only two point five centimeters in diameter. It stopped a semi.” Jemma shrugged.

“How big are we talking?” I asked.

“Twelve feet. It’ll definitely take down the entire compound.”

My heart clenched in my chest once more. Skye and Coulson were on there. And more importantly to me, Grant was on there. I had just gotten him back after eleven years. I couldn’t lose him to an element on the periodic table.

“It’ll sink the place!” Jemma was agitated.

“No, it’ll do more than that.” Fitz shook his head, working at something, tucking a screwdriver behind his ear.

“Work a solution. I’ll disconnect the power before things get … crazy.”

He was gone again.

“Vi.”

“What is it?” I asked, relief at hearing my brother’s voice.

“I don’t know where I’m going. I need you to pull up a map and talk me through this. Please.”

I only nodded. “Just a second.” I hit a few buttons on the holotable, bringing up the blueprint of Quinn’s mansion.

I took my comm out and tossed it to Fitz, who set the connection to the same as Coulson’s. Now we could all hear him, and he could hear all of us.

“Alright. This place is massive. Where am I heading?”

“Southwest corner.” May guided him. “Ward. Tell me you’ve got things covered on the ground. I can’t do a damn thing from out here.”

I caught a small gasp and perked up. It had come from Grant. I pulled up his vitals on the tablet next to me and saw that his heart rate went up. Something had happened that made him nervous.

“I’m working on it.” He replied.

We sat in silence, watching as the dot on the map that was Grant moved faster. Coulson’s comm clicked back on, and we could hear a loud whirring and a rumbling.

“... future generations ruined in his wake!” Hall’s voice was agitated.

“Like agents Fitz and Simmons, your former students? I’ve got them in my ear right now, telling me you’re not a bad guy. We could’ve worked with you on this.”

There was a crashing noise, and Fitz tensed in his seat.

“S.H.I.E.L.D.? S.H.I.E.L.D. is just as guilty of the same thing! Experimentation without a thought of consequence! Your search for an unlimited power source brought an alien invasion!”

“Fair point.” Coulson only sighed.

There was another crashing noise, and Coulson’s comm finally gave out. May cursed loudly, and Jemma put her hands back to her neck.

“She’s not here!” Grant screamed.

We paused.

“Grant, the pool.”

“What?”

“There’s a pool by the window. She must’ve jumped. She’s probably out in the front!”

“Are you sure?”

“Grant! We tag-teamed! Stop doubting me and listen!” I groaned, balling my hands in frustration.

He muttered a reply that I ignored. His dot was beelining down the steps and out into the main lot. He must’ve been sprinting. He reached the spot and took a deep breath. I braced myself, knowing what was coming. There were grunts and shouts, and the cracking of bones. Grant winced, but was quick to regain another breath and keep fighting.

When he finished, I could hear his breathing, along with Skye’s, which was even more frantic.

“You hurt? Follow my orders. I’ll get us out of here.” He was gone again.

Coulson’s line came back on, staticky. “Nothing. Fitz-Simmons? I tried to cut the power. It’s still going.”

Fitz-Simmons blurted out too many words at the same time, and the only thing I understood was ‘catalyst’.

“Something to create a chemical reaction in the core.” Jemma explained.

“It’s not too late to do the right thing! Help me find a catalyst-”

“I am doing the right thing. A completely selfless act. I know that history never celebrates what didn’t happen. They’ll call this a-a tragedy. They won’t understand the good I did here.”

“Vi?” Grant came on. “We’ve almost got Coulson.”

“Can you get him out?”

“Not yet. We need another minute or two.”

“You don’t have that long.” Fitz jumped in, looking at me with concern.

“Killing innocent people?”

“Saving millions. We have to live with the choices we make, but sometimes we have to die with them too.”

“I understand. You made a hard call… and now I have to make mine.” Coulson clicked his comm off, but we still heard the gunshots through Grant’s.

“Alright, we’re in.”

                                                            ***

Fitz-Simmons hadn’t taken the news well. Coulson had been the one to explain what happened. He shot the glass, and Dr. Hall got sucked into the gravitonium. He was gone. They were devastated, frustrated, and overall upset. Jemma had made a tea and fallen asleep on the couch, where Grant wordlessly draped a blanket over her and shot me a look when I smiled at him.

Fitz was in the bathroom, showering. He had left the door cracked open, and I got the feeling it was to reassure me that he was okay. The water shut off, and he got dressed rather quickly, coming out of the bathroom in boxers and nothing else. His hair had obviously been towel-dried, and he hadn’t bothered to fix it. He gave me a soft smile as he sat next to me.

“Hi angel face.” I whispered, leaning up to press a kiss to his cheek.

“I love you.” He mumbled, wrapping me in his arms and dropping his head against my shoulder.

He was exhausted, and I couldn’t blame him. I ran my fingers through his damp hair and wrapped my arm around his shoulders, tracing shapes onto his bare skin.

“I love you too. Why don’t you try to sleep, Leo?” I asked once he pulled back, wiping at his eyes.

“Stay with me?” He gave me puppy eyes and jutted out his bottom lip. I couldn’t tell whether it was intentional or not.

I smiled and leaned forward, grabbing him by the cheeks and pulling him to me so I could kiss his pouty lips. “Always.”

He slid down under the covers and let me get settled against the headboard. I sat with my legs crossed. He rolled over and dropped his head into my lap, laying on his side and pulling the blankets up to his chin. I threaded my hand in his hair, tugging gently at the curls to untangle them. He sighed, content. My hand started to work by itself, long after his hair was close to dry and he was breathing steadily, asleep.

Skye had gone downstairs to work on her punches, and Grant had gone straight for the shower. I sat in the bed, fingers still mindlessly combing through Fitz’s hair. I hadn’t been the one to lose a mentor, and I hadn’t been the one with a gun up to my face, but I was still tired, and now emotionally drained. There was a knock on my door.

“Come in.” I mumbled, eyes focused on a spot on the wall.

“Hey, ducky. How ya doing?”

I shrugged, watching as he sat on the edge of the bed.

“I’ve had better days.”

He nodded. “I’m gonna go check on Skye. Wanna come?”

I nodded, working Fitz’s head off my lap and onto a pillow. I took Grant’s hand the moment he outstretched it. We walked in silence, and it was peaceful. We didn’t have to verbalize what we wanted to say to each other, we just knew what the other was thinking. It was all I’m sorry’s and I love you to death, please don’t forget that’s and I’m glad you’re alive’s. He went down the stairs first, sitting down and letting me lean onto him.

“Where’d you guys grow up?” Skye asked through a grunt.

“Massachusetts, mostly.” I answered.

“A house?” She asked again.

“You didn’t?” Grant cocked his head.

She stopped the bag, holding it steady as she panted. “One house.” She grabbed a water bottle and walked to our side. “The Brody’s. I was nine. Sent me back to St. Agnes after a month. Said I wasn’t a good fit.”

“Foster parents.” Grant deduced. “Your first?”

She scoffed. “My third. I had heard it before, but… this one was different.”

“‘Cause you wanted them to like you.” I spoke in a hushed tone.

She looked up and nodded. “Bad.”

Grant sighed and she looked back down, sniffling. I looked down to my brother. He gave my knee a squeeze.

“I called her mom once… tried it out.” She shrugged and sighed. “Guess it wasn’t a good fit.”

She shook herself off and returned to the bag. “Hoping for something and losing it? Hurts more than never hoping for anything.”

Grant and I exchanged looks.

She needs reassurance that we won’t leave her. She’s got trust issues.

Grant nodded and we got up wordlessly, each putting weight against the bag so she could have a more solid stance.

“We won’t turn our backs.” He spoke first.

“Doesn’t matter.” She took another punch. “I made my choice. I want this.” Another three punches. “Bad.”

“Well, good. Because you fit in. We like you. You’re a buffer, and a smart one.” I smiled, letting Grant put his full weight against the bag so I could take the pressure off my leg.

She looked at me with a grin. “And I know there’s a truth serum.”

Grant and I only looked at each other once again, each laughing.

“Whatever you say, rookie.”

#leopold fitz #leopold fitz x reader #grant ward x reader #grant ward x oc #agents of shield #agents of shield imagine #fitz #leo fitz #grant ward #leo fitz x reader #leo fitz x oc #grant ward x sister!reader #grant ward x sister!oc #micaelawrites #my posts #my writing #micwrites

[winchesterbrotherstan]

supernatural- additional cast

jensen ackles as dean winchester

jared padalecki as sam winchester

jeffrey dean morgan as john winchester

amber heard as everett richmond

jessica lowndes as sutton richmond

brenton thwaites as hunter richmond

#supernatural oc #supernatural ocs #dean winchester #sam winchester #john winchester #supernatural cast #amber heard #jessica lowndes #brenton thwaites #jeffery dean morgan #jared padalecki #jensen ackles #micaelawrites #supernatural #micwrites

[winchesterbrotherstan]

hey I'm not really into being interactive on tumblr, which made me realize that you have no idea that I love love your Olive Winchester series. Just wanted to let you know that someone out there is devouring your writing and appreciating all your effort :) even if you don't see it in likes and reblogs and stuff.

hi usually i would just reply straight to whoever submitted stuff but since you’re an anon (which is fine lol) i can’t so everybody has to read this now oops. i literally cannot express how happy this made me. i burst into tears when i read it. this quarantine has me really struggling in every sense but to hear that somebody likes my work, especially those works, brings me so much joy. thank you so much!! i’d love to be friends or at least follow you if that’s okay with you! just message me!

#anon #micaelawrites #thank you #anon speaks #my writing #thank you anon! #love you!