Chapter 5
Dean stared at the reflective paneling of the elevator, jaw clenched as Sam babbled on his right. Sam had insisted on meeting with the Avengers about half way through the research process and Dean had adamantly disagreed. Of course he lost the argument and it didn’t matter to Sam that they were about to announce themselves to an uncompromising terrorist organization with delusions of grandeur. Dean wanted to crack his head against the elevator wall. The elevator chimed moments later and the doors slid open cutting off whatever Sam had been mumbling about. Dean’s face went slack as he stepped out and took in the view in front of them. Stark was filthy fucking rich. Dean knew this, objectively speaking, but it was completely different seeing all the wealth and technology with his own eyes. The Avengers and Coulson were sitting before him and Sam on various couches with a coffee table in the middle, all of which probably cost more than Dean would care to think about. Captain America – Steve, Dean needed to remember to call him that rose as Dean and his brother made their way over.
“Thank you both for coming,” Steve cordially shook both Dean and Sam’s hands.
Dean nodded as his eyes trailed over the remaining Avengers while Sam rambled some pleasantries; Dean was sure there was a compliment thrown in there about the tower. Dean’s eyes landed on Bucky, the soldier already staring at him with intense blue eyes. A smile stole over Dean’s face as he ambled over to the former assassin, Bucky’s eyes widening in alarm as Dean stopped in front of him. Sam Wilson was seated next to the man and Dean gave him a friendly nod catching Wilson’s slight smirk as Dean turned his attention back to Bucky. The soldier’s face was impassive once again as he studied Dean whose smile only grew wider.
“Coulson told us how you met and gave us your file. I have to say, you’ve done some messed up shit,” Stark’s voice brought Dean’s head around, green eyes clashing with the billionaires’.
“You kept tabs on me?” Dean’s head swiveled to face the agent.
“What little I could, yes. I know it’s not a complete file,” Coulson stated as he stared at Dean.
“Right, because that makes it okay and you all just, what, read it and think you can pass judgement,” Dean was furious as his eyes locked onto Sam’s, his brother’s face pinched and scowling.
“Well, Barnes didn’t for whatever reason,” Stark drawled, not even the slightest bit remorseful. Dean’s head snapped back around to face Bucky who was staring straight ahead before slowly turning his eyes back to Dean.
“You don’t know mine; I don’t need to know yours after all it can’t be worse than mine. The only thing that matters is your willingness to help us stop Hydra,” Bucky shrugged his shoulders, the metal catching in the sunlight. Dean was stunned, eyes wide as he felt the slow burn of gratitude curl through his chest.
“Of course we’ll help you,” Sam answered for both of them causing some of the tension to ease from the room.
“Thank you,” Steve’s voice was quiet but firm as appreciation shown in his eyes.
“On one condition,” Dean said ignoring Sam’s groan of annoyance, “we get to see our file.”
Coulson nodded his head in acceptance, a slight smile flitting across his face. Black Widow, Natasha, Dean had learned everyone’s names and alias when he and Sam had conducted their research, slid the thick file over as Dean and Sam dropped down into two chairs. The file held a lot of information from the basics of date of birth and physical descriptions to more in depth details such as the location of the bunker. Dean’s skin itched as he and Sam flipped to that page and he looked at the aerial of the Impala next to the entrance to their current base and home. Dean shared a look with Sam before continuing on to the reports filed by Victor Hendrickson and the FBI. Dean quickly bypassed those until he came across a report detailing all of the death surrounding them, including their own or at least the ones where they were declared legally dead. Dean stared at the list of names, guilt and rage searing through his body, burning his throat.
“You’ve been declared dead quite a few times. Must make it easier to stay off radar that way,” Natasha’s voice was steady as Dean’s eyes rose to meet hers’.
“The times we we’re actually dead made it easy too,” Dean smirked flipping to the next page of the file showing the dates when he and Sam weren’t active or had disappeared completely.
He flipped the file around to show the group sitting on the couch. The first set of dates were the four months from when Dean was in Hell then the year he was with Lisa and Sam was in the Cage and his time in Purgatory. It was all there, the long stretches of time where either one of them was absent. Dean had to grin because yes, SHIELD had all of this information on them but it amounted to nothing because Coulson wasn’t able to make heads or tails of it. The agent didn’t know why he and Sam were inactive, didn’t know about the Apocalypse, Heaven’s Civil War, the Leviathan, or the Mark. Coulson just knew he needed Sam and Dean and that gave Dean some relief. He never liked someone knowing all about them; it always left him and his brother one step behind.
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Bucky’s breath stuttered, catching in his throat as he tried to make sense of Dean’s words. Dean had died and yet he was sitting across from Bucky, it shouldn’t have been possible. He reached forward and slid the file closer to him and Steve while the other Avengers looked over their shoulders. The series of dates on the page didn’t seem all that important especially since Natasha and Coulson hadn’t commented on them, yet Dean clearly considered these time periods more important than the dates of their legal deaths. Bucky’s eyes flickered up and met shadowed green ones. Bucky drew in a sharp breath; these were the actual times Dean and Sam died.
“Is this how you know about Death’s scythe?” Bucky’s voice was gruff as he watched Dean’s eyes clear.
“Actually no, that’s a different tale, although part of the same story I suppose,” Dean stated, his hand moving to rub a spot on his forearm.
“Wait, so you’ve actually died and you’re saying that’s not the reason you know about Death’s scythe. I thought once someone has bit it they got to meet the Grim Reaper?” Barton spoke up as confusion and curiosity laced his voice.
“That’s not how it works,” Sam huffed out a chuckle as he cocked his head at Dean indicating for his older brother to take over.
“The Grim Reaper you’re thinking of is Death, you know Horseman of the Apocalypse and the end all be all of life. Well, Death happens to have thousands of grim reapers working for him, those are the guys you meet when you die and they send you off to the afterlife. Although, if you’re real important then sometimes you get a visit from Death himself,” Dean shrugged like it was the simplest thing in the world, like he hasn’t been rearranging Bucky’s world view since the moment they met.
“So, you met Death when you died? Or have you not met Death?” Sam’s confused voice matched the rest of the Avenger’s faces.
“Uhhh no, my reaper is Tessa. I met Death when I was very much alive, can’t say the same for everyone in the pizza joint I met him at was,” Dean trailed off with a grimace.
“Why would you have met Death outside of actually being dead?” Steve’s eyes were shrewd as he leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees.
“The Apocalypse,” Sam answered, face open in its honesty. Incredulous silence fell over the Avengers; Bucky stared at the two men in front of him and found no trace of deceit in their faces or body language.
“How did we not hear of this?” Steve demanded, head turning towards Coulson.
“Probably because you were still frozen and Stark was still making weapons at the time, you weren’t a team yet. Hell, superheroes were just a comic book story,” Dean snorted as he leaned back against the chair, legs splayed and shirt pulling tight over his body.
“Steve, this fight with the supernatural isn’t anything new. We’ve been doing it our whole lives. There are families of hunters who have been doing it for generations,” Sam’s voice was calm, placating in a way that Bucky knew was riling his best friend up even more.
“Then why hasn’t SHIELD or anyone else been a part of it or made aware of this supernatural problem?” Wilson spoke up as he laid a hand on Steve’s shoulder.
“SHIELD didn’t know until Fury and I delved into Dean’s history,” Coulson reminded the team.
“As for everyone else and I assume you mean the government when you say that, let’s just say they’re more inclined to lock hunters up than listen to us,” Dean rolled his eyes in exasperation.
“So you work as vigilantes which makes sense. With the list of crimes you both have been accused of it’s no wonder the feds would be more inclined to throw you in solitary rather than believe your story,” Falcon reluctantly agreed.
“Saving people, hunting things the family business,” Dean murmured by rote, eyes landing on Bucky.
“How long have you been doing this, hunting the supernatural? How do you even get in to something like this?” Bucky leaned forward, matching Steve’s position. His eyes flickered over Dean as the hunter unconsciously copied his movements bringing him closer to Bucky as sorrow flashed across Dean’s face.
“Our mom died when Sammy was a baby and I was four, house fire. Dad didn’t take it all that well. Then he found out it was a demon that killed her and there was this whole world of supernatural monsters lurking in the dark. Ended up packing up the Impala and we just drove across the country, Dad taking on hunts and learning the game as he looked for the demon. Eventually, both me and Sam were old enough to start training and learning the ropes too. The rest is, well, in that file,” Dean smirked but his eyes were vacant and Bucky didn’t think for one moment the rest of their lives were in that file.
Bucky gazed at the man’s face, the freckles and brilliant green eyes which held haunted depths and yet were surrounded by laugh lines. Dean Winchester. Bucky’s hands had been covered in the man’s blood; he had seen resignation in those green eyes and Bucky’s chest had been engulfed in heat melting away the frigid tension and fear of his own self. He had felt the Winter Soldier stirring at Dean’s presence in a way that usually would have caused Bucky concern. Yet, the warmth which awakened the remnants of the programing was a liberation and one not associated with the vast freezing space of Siberia. Bucky had felt the melding between himself and the Winter Soldier as Dean’s blood spilled over his hands. Bucky didn’t avert his eyes away from Dean even as the silence filled the room.