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May 1st, 2008
This was it. They had only one day left before Dean’s deal was up and he was going to be dragged into Hell - literal fucking Hell - unless they could come up with some last-ditch effort to save his soul from damnation.
“Did Sam get you up to speed?” Bobby’s voice crackled through the speaker of his phone, pressed against his ear by a shoulder as he leafed through his, ahem, borrowed S.H.I.E.L.D. files. He’d managed to find a secluded enough hallway after crawling through an air duct to read through what he had to see if he could use any of it.
“He did,” Clint conformed. “I still don’t like that he kept in contact with the demon, though. I can’t help but feel like it’s gonna bite us in the ass.”
The older man sighed, the sound garbled slightly between the phone and Clint’s hearing aids.
“I don’t like it either, boy, but we’re running outta time and options here.”
“Just- please keep him alive. And you and Sam, too. Please.”
“That’s the plan, kid.”
A small click and the call was disconnected. Clint grit his teeth and sucked in a breath.
“Dammit, Bobby,” he muttered to himself, before returning his gaze to the files in his hand, hoping to find some inkling of information that might suggest demonic activity, but had no luck so far. He leafed through the pages and pages of papers, most containing large black stripes of redacted information. He stopped when he saw his own name.
Clint hesitated for a brief moment, not wanting to distract himself from the mission at hand, knowing that the hours until his little brother would die were ticking by all too soon. He grabbed the page, and with it two others stapled together, promising to read it once they’d stopped this whole thing.
Because they would stop it.
Dean was counting on them.
Trickshot liked to think of himself as a smart man. He knew what he had gotten himself into with Hydra - the logo alone was laughably cliche and almost reminded him of the Saturday morning cartoons that he and C-
Well, they were fairly transparent about the arrangement, long story short.
He’d caught their eye somehow, he never was told and he decided it was best not to ask, and had been brought into their ranks to operate from the shadows, and help them to clean up messes and tie up the loose ends. They were, as one would expect, fairly ruthless and unforgiving in how they operated.
Which was why he really, really hoped that they wouldn’t mind him using their resources for personal reasons as of late. He cracked his knuckles as he cleared the information on the computer in front of him and stood from his chair.
“Ah, just the man that I wanted to see.”
“Hail Hydra, Director.” he said to the man as he turned to face him. “I was hoping to speak with you, as well.”
“Were you now?” The older man raised an eyebrow. “What a happy coincidence.” His smile, although as fake as him, did not seem to have any malicious feeling behind it, and Trickshot felt himself relax slightly, a tension leaving him that he hadn’t realized was there in the first place.
“I was hoping to take some time away for a personal mission,” he said as the two men walked the empty floor together.
“No need to say more,” the other man said, his tone friendly and light. “You’ve been of great help to us, Mister Barton.”
He still didn’t know how exactly he’d gotten himself stuck in a plane with Nat headed towards Indiana, with Bobbi of all people following after him.
Well, he knew. He didn’t know why he’d gone along with it though.
He’d stuffed the folded pages down the front of his shirt, and had almost pulled himself into the vent when she’d found him.
“Clint?” Her voice was genuinely confused, so he was at least glad to know she hadn’t come looking for missing S.H.I.E.L.D files. “Why are you back here?”
He stilled, his legs swaying from the vent above. With a grunt, he pushed the file down the vent - better for it to be ‘lost’ temporarily than found in his possession.
“Hey, Bobbi,” he shot her a smile and made two (two?!) finger guns at her. “I was just, uh, testing air vent security. This one’s all clear.”
“Right,” she said, clearly not buying his paper thin excuse, but not bothered enough to ask. “Okay. That’s cool. Can I join you on your monster hunt?”
He blinked at her. She stared at him, waiting.
“If you don’t let me come, I will tell Fury about whatever you’re hiding in the vents.”
“Wait, what?”
“Your monster hunt. You and Phil aren’t all that quiet, you know. You’d think you’d be better, since you’re actually spies.” Bobbi smiled at him, and nodded towards his phone sticking out of his pocket. “Plus I heard your call yesterday, because I thought you were talking to me , and sort of spied on you.”
“You’re an eavesdropper ,” he scolded in a teasing tone before returning to the more serious side of their conversation. “I guess you can join the club of who’s in the know.”
“Who is in the know?” she asked. They made their way into a hanger, where Nat was leaning against a small plane. She looked curiously at Bobbi’s appearance, but sent her a brief wave after a nod from Clint.
“Let’s see,” Clint counted off his fingers as he began his list, “In S.H.I.E.L.D. only Fury, Coulson, Nat, myself, and now you. In the world at large? Could be a couple thousand, at most.”
She continued to ask questions the entire time, her excitement lessening visibly as he explained the basic situation regarding Dean’s deal.
“My brother made a deal with a demon - yes, it’s a thing, and he has one year before they come to collect.” He began, knowing the journey would take some time. He leaned back as best he could against the seat in the military-tyle plane. “Most people get ten.”
Bobbi looked down at her hands folded in her lap. Phil had engrossed himself into a riveting conversation about some new movie with Natasha in the cockpit, but kept sending glances Clint’s way.
“I’m guessing they want his soul? Standard demon stuff?” He nodded and she smiled frowned. “That’s awful. What...how are they going to, uh,” she trailed off, unsure of how to phrase her question.
“Drag him into Hell?” Clint offered. “Hellhounds, which are unfortunately real just like every other goddamn boogeyman.” He paused, “I think the boogeyman itself is real, actually.”
Bobbi opened her mouth to respond and gasped as they hit unexpected turbulence.
“Sorry,” Natasha called back.
“Why’s your brother special? What did he want that was such a big deal the demon gave him less time?” The blonde woman’s question brought his attention back to her.
He sighed and ran his fingers along his scalp.
“I don’t know why he got less time,” he said. “But they really want him.The one we need to deal with has been, as my brother would put it, on shore leave.”
“You didn’t answer the other question,” she pointed out. He smirked half-heartedly.
“Hey now, this is pretty personal,” he jibed. “Gotta leave me some secrets.”
She gave a shrug and nodded in acknowledgement.
They landed in Indiana, the destination feeling so mundane for such an interesting assignment, in Bobbi’s voal opinion.
“The worst of the world is hiding in plain sight, Agent Morse,” Phil said in a soft yet sten voice.
Bobbi shrugged, glancing down briefly to make sure her bo-staff and gun were secure as an Impala rolled up beside them, the driver hanging his head out of the front window.
“I was really only expecting you and Red,” he said, annoyed. “I guess a couple of ya can ride with Bobby, he’s coming behind us.”
Morse turned her attention at the sound of her name, realizing that they meant the older man in the truck now pulling up behind the car.
“Jessica?” A second young man’s head joined the others, she could see his upper body twisted around in his seat to get a better look. She glanced behind her and then back towards him as he called for ‘Jessica’ a second time.
“Agent Morse,” she said, cautiously extending her right hand. “I work with your brother.”
“Sam,” he said, looking slightly upset. “You, uh, you look like someone I knew. Sorry.”
“No problem,” she said, and moved aside as Clint and Natasha climbed in the back. She was grateful to be sharing a car with the old guy and Phil.
Sam seemed slightly shaken after seeing what appeared to be his girlfriend who had burned to death exactly like their mother, and rightfully so. He was, however, valiantly trying to remain focused on the task at hand as they drove.
They were pulled over by a cop, and the ensuing action that took place lead to Dean informing the group that he could now see, among other things, the true faces of demons.
“You are utterly fucked,” Clint bemoaned as he ran his hands down his face. “Why didn’t you tell anyone?”
Bobby proposed that as Dean was now damned, he could see the corrupted souls of the demons. Clint shuddered at the thought of being able to actually see the monsters underneath the human suits they wore, but they quickly realized how to take advantage of it.
They could use all the advantages they could get as they went up against the forces of Hell.
Dean identified Lilith hiding in the body of a small blonde girl. Clint’s stomach clenched at the thought of a child being possessed by something so evil. It wasn’t too long before they found themselves in a fight against demons possessing seemingly ordinary neighbors after Dean alerted their presence.
Clint wished the boys had never lost the stupid Colt. Would have made the fight a whole lot easier, in his opinion. To their credit, Coulson, Natasha, and Morse were doing fairly well against the demonic HOA committee, despite their infrequent - and in Bobbi’s case, non existent - experience against them. He found himself back to back with Sam, and he couldn’t help but feel a small thrill at the feeling of fighting alongside his brothers once more.
Sam grabbed him by the arm, nodding at the sight of someone had appeared behind Dean.
“It’s Ruby,” he growled. They ran towards their brother together
“I'd like my knife back, please. Or your neck snaps like a chicken bone.” Sam came up behind the female demon with a knife to her throat.
“He doesn't have it,” he told her. “Take it easy.”
Ruby glared at them, but released Dean and backed away. Clint and Sam flanked either side of him as he turned to face her and ask, “How the hell did you get out?”
She smirked.
“What you don’t know about me could fill a book.”
“You just keep giving us the best reasons not to trust you,” Clint drawled. Dean suddenly jerked his head back, his eyes blowing wide. “Whoa.”
“What?”
Dean avoided looking into the demon’s face. If the situation wasn’t the way it was, Clint probably would have found his brother’s newfound ability hilarious.
“Nothing. I just – I couldn't see you before, but you're one ugly broad.”
Okay, it could still be funny.
Just a little.
Ruby bared her teeth at him before returning her attention to the tallest of the brothers. She and Sam only narrowly avoided a full on brawl over the demon slayin knife as Dean watched a new wave of demons coming their way.
“So much for the element of surprise,” he complained as they booked it while Sam yelled for them to run.
“Kinda redundant, bud,” Clint called back.
Sam reached the house first, and began the lockpicking process as Ruby and his brothers came up behind him.
“Where the hell is Bobby?” Dean growled as he glanced around the yard.
“Fuck if I know,” Clint muttered, and nearly jumped out of his skin as Nat and Morse came skidding to a stop next to them.
“Singer and Coulson are around back,” Nat panted, blowing a stray curl out of her eyes.
“Here they come,” Morse warned, and they watched as the first demon took step onto the lawn. The moment that she did, she fell to the ground, screaming and flailing as sprinklers burst from the ground. “Singer taught us how to make holy water,” she informed Clint with a serious face but a giddy look of excitement in her eye.
Demon hunting may suit her, he thought.
“You and Nat good to guard the front?” he asked, and she nodded. He clasped her on the shoulder. “Don’t get yourself hurt too bad.”
“I gotta be back by tomorrow, my fianceè will be missing me,” she said, slightly joking. “Hunter will kill me if I die.”
He chuckled and met Nat’s eyes. She nodded, and he nodded back before following Ruby and the boys inside. He was greeted with the sight of an old man’s corpse - probably the child’s grandfather. Dean grimaced at the scene.
“D’you think Lilith knows that we’re here?”
“Probably,” Ruby said dryly.
They made their way, quietly, into the living room, and were surprised by a middle-aged man ambushing them by jumping out from within a cupboard. He was quickly overpowered by Dean, who covered his mouth with a hand as he shushed him.
“We’re here to help, okay?” The man nodded. “I’m gonna move my hand, and we’re gonna talk nice and quiet, alright?” He nodded again.
“Sir, where is your daughter?” Sam asked him in a hushed tone.
“It’s not, it’s not her anymore,” the man confided. “Upstairs, in her bedroom.” he added at Sam’s second request.
“Go upstairs,” Clint told them. “I’ll help him get to safety first and join you.”
“Not without my wife!” the man protested before either brother could speak. Dean shot him a look and opened his mouth, interrupted when Clint waived him off.
“Yes, your wife is getting saved by them, I need you out of the way so that you don’t put her at risk.”
“No!” he protested again, and Dean walked over to them with an annoyed grunt.
“Fuck this,” he muttered, and punched him.
Despite scolding him, Clint could admit to himself that was probably their best option, given the circumstances.
They stealthed their way upstairs and into the little girl’s room. It looked like a room fit for a princess, with a canopy bed situated as the centerpiece. Sam made his way around to the bed and brushed the gauzy curtains aside, meeting the gaze of a frightened mother holding the demonic child in her arms. The mother pleaded to him to kill what her daughter had become.
Clint swore that he felt his heart drop when he heard the little girl’s scream, and relief washed over him as Dean moved in the way of Sam’s weapon, shouting “It’s not her!” He glanced around at them.
“It’s not in the girl anymore.”
The little girl sobbed into her mother’s arms, and Clint prayed to god that he’d never have to see his children this scared. He glanced through the window and watched as hoards of demons stood at the edge of the wet lawn, waiting.
The Fremont family were placed safely into the basement of the home, Ruby muttering something as she passed Sam. He shot her a look.
“Alright, Ruby, where is she?”
“I don’t know,” the demon replied, and maybe Clint was imagining it, but she didn’t sound very concerned.
Sam pressed her some more before caving. “Okay, what do I have to do?”
“Don’t do anything for it, Sam,” Clint glared at the demon. “She probably wanted this to happen.”
Ruby shot him a look before questioning Sam.
“To save Dean,” he said. “What do you need me to do?” Dean came up behind him and grabbed him by the shoulders, trying to face him.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Sam pulled away.
“Just shut up for a second. Ruby!” Ruby scoffed at them.
“You had your chance. You can’t just flip a switch. We needed time.”
Clint’s heart was breaking as the seconds ticked by, and the last few minutes of Dean's life were being spent arguing with Sam about going to Hell. Sam was eventually out-argued as he realized there was nothing more that could be done so late into the game.
“I love you, Bean,” Clint whispered as he pulled the two into a hug. Dean looked as if he might cry.
The first strike of midnight rang more clearly than anything he’d ever heard. They watched the hands move, and Sam turned his face as Clint caught sight of tears rolling down his cheeks.
“I’m sorry, Dean” Ruby said, almost kindly. “I wouldn’t wish this on my worst enemy.”
The hellhounds began to howl, as if on cue, and Dean’s face fell.
“Hellhound,” he said flatly. Clint and Sam looked where he faced, but saw nothing.
“Where?”
Dean raised his hand and pointed, “There.”
They heard a growl, then, and Ruby’s expression fell as Dean bolted out of the room, the others trailing behind him.
May 2nd, 2008
In the end, it was Ruby who betrayed them, just like Clint expected. Although, not quite. Lilith had, at one point, taken the ‘friendly’ demon’s meat suit, and Sam and Clint were forced to watch as their brother was ripped apart by Lilith’s hellhounds.
Clint had seen so, so many horrible things in his life, both supernatural and ordinary. He’d never seen something so gut-wrenching at the sight of Dean, unmoving and covered in blood. Lilith had gone, both from the body and from the house, and the sound of Sam’s sobs, and his own gasping for breath between tears, was worse than when Clint could not hear at all.
He heard somebody’s footsteps make their way into the room, but couldn’t bring himself to look away from his brother. He’d failed his little brother, when he’d been so sure of a last minute miracle to occur.
“Clint-” Of course it was Natasha.
He didn’t say anything, but felt himself shake as he leaned against Sam, the latter still holding Dean’s head on his lap as if he were only sleeping. Natasha rested a hand on his shoulder and he could hear a cry from Singer.
He realized exactly how Dean had felt a year earlier, why he’d done what he did for Sam.
If only Clint could have done the same for him.
They buried him. It was not traditional for Hunters to be buried - salted and burned to keep ghosts from appearing - but Sam insisted on keeping Dean whole (more or less). He returned to the farm with Clint, where the two were greeted with their remaining family.
Cooper waddled to the edge of the porch steps excitedly, and Laura stood behind him while resting an arm on her expanded stomach. Her dark hair was shorter than Sam had seen it last. Under normal circumstances, he would have felt guilty at not visiting with his brother or family in months, but instead he just felt a hollow emptiness that weighed heavy in his gut.
Your fault, your fault, Dean made the deal for you.
“Clint!” Laura had seen the blood that still stained their hands and clothes, although the worst of it had been removed at some point before the dawn. “Clint, what the fuck!” She ushered their small son inside and made her way down the steps and onto the gravel drive, doing her best to rush towards them.
Adam peered out from the screen door, his eyes blowing wide as he took in their appearance, and the lack of the second eldest Winchester. He bolted towards them.
“Baby, no,” his sister-in-law cupped his older brother’s face, her eyes searching for the words he could not say. Clint closed his eyes and pulled her in tight, careful to avoid her belly.
Adam reached them by then, his lower lip trembling ever so slightly as he glanced towards the husband and wife and then towards Sam. Sam nodded and was yanked into Adam’s grip. He realized with a jolt that their kid brother - who really was no longer a kid at the age of eighteen - was now only a few inches shorter than himself.
They all drank that night, and he was grateful for a momentary distraction from the pain and the guilt as he sat on a recliner in the corner of the living room. The lights were off, but the glow from the kitchen and the reflection of the moonlight illuminated the room enough for him to see a toddler enter the room. Cooper gripped his uncle’s pant leg, giving it a small but forceful shake. He glanced down at his nephew, trying to smile as the toddler raised his arms and pouted.
“Uncle Sammy!” Sam pulled the boy onto his lap and hugged him. “Be my horsey,” the little boy demanded.
“Not right now, bud, Uncle Sammy needs to go to bed,” Clint said as he made his way from the kitchen. His gaze met his brothers. “Unless you want some bonding time.”
“He can stay,” he said, his voice hardly more than a croak. He cleared his throat. “I probably won’t go to bed for a little while. Clint’s expression was unreadable as he watched him, before he sighed.
“As long as you get some sleep, bud.” Sam nodded back to him.
He ended up putting his nephew to bed himself, the rest of the family retiring long before him. The next morning, he woke up in Adam’s bed with a beer can in his hand, and several more on the floor.
By the second week of his stay, Clint had locked all the heavy liquor away, and no longer kept beer in the fridge.
A day later Sam nearly lost his mind when the crossroads demon wouldn’t let him make a deal. He left with Ruby not long after, without a word to anyone.
Clint smiled, a real genuine smile, for the first time since Dean’s death when Lila Deanna Winchester-Barton was born on July 3rd, 2008. He cried as he held his little girl in his arms, and wished his brother could be here to see it. Not just Dean, but everyone that they’d lost over the years. His birth parents, Barney. Mary and John would have spoiled her rotten he just knew.
A month later, Adam shared that he’d been accepted into the University of Wisconsin, on a scholarship no less. It was bittersweet to watch the teenager become an adult and move out on his own, even though he knew the kid had demon-proofed his entire apartment. The weekly updates helped, though, and he wished for the umpteenth time that Sam had not ghosted them all.
It was difficult, knowing that his brother needed help and yet not even knowing if he was still alive. Bobby hadn’t heard from him since that night, and S.H.I.E.L.D was so far unlucky in their pursuit.
In September, Bobby's cell rang Clint’s phone, and he answered, hoping that he had good news regarding his brother’s wearabouts, although he was likely calling with more disappointments.
There was silence and heavy static as he answered with, “Yo.”
“Clint?”
Although shaky and hoarse, the voice was unmistakably Dean’s.