Categories > TV > Supernatural > Comes Knocking

Chapter 5

by Pearsforgranite 0 reviews

When the supernatural begins wreaking havoc in New York, the Avengers are at a loss of what exactly they're up against. Saved by 2 brothers, the Avengers open their home and team to the Winchesters...

Category: Supernatural - Rating: PG-13 - Genres: Crossover - Warnings: [!!!] - Published: 2017-10-11 - 2937 words

Barbara and Richard MacAllen could only stare in bewilderment at the spectacle that was Dean Winchester reuniting with his car. They'd been watching the news waiting for updates on the day's dramatic events when a loud, urgent cry of "Baby!" pulled them outside. There in their driveway, within full view of their neighbours, was Dean, star-fished to the side of his vehicle. The couple exchanged WTF glances as he began stroking the impala, murmuring what sounded like sweet nothings into its mirrors.

Dean's relief and pleasure at reuniting with his car after only 6 hours of separation was extreme. He knew this. He also had a vague awareness of his voice being too loud and too high when he first saw her, but it was overshadowed by the sheer joy of seeing his beautiful impala. He'd been worried that in the stampeding panic of earlier, vandals or, Chuck-forbid, Baby-snatchers, might have gotten to her. Seeing her gleaming exterior, completely unharmed, imbued Dean with a sense of stability, which was sorely needed amidst the current insanity. Through his haze of impala-induced happiness, he could hear Mrs. MacAllen speaking to him, but she was ignored in favour of reassuring Baby.

"Uh…Mr. Winchester? Is everything alright?" There was no reply, except for the whispered croonings of 'Baby… missed you…big city, all alone…'.

Sam rolled his eyes at his brother's animistic relationship with his car and addressed the couple.

"Thank you for letting us leave it with you. We really appreciate it. Especially with all the chaos of earlier today."

Looking at his watch, Sam couldn't believe that it had only been 5 hours since he last saw the family. It felt like a week. Judging by the way Dean was still clutching at his car, it had felt just as long to him.

"After everything you've done for us it was the least we could do. Speaking of which –"

"Barbara, no!"

Barb ignored the frantic whisperings of her cheapskate husband as he tried to stop her and forged on – "Speaking of which, do you have a fee or an hourly rate? We can't in good conscience not offer to pay you. You essentially saved our family today and all we did was give you pizza money." She glared at her husband as she made her point.

Sam put her husband's worries to rest. "No, no - we're just glad we could help you before it was too late."

Dean had finally stopped stroking his car and nodded in agreement, "Food is our preferred method of payment."

Before his wife could insist further, Dick MacAllen cut in, "Well, if you're sure!"

Dick was eager to usher them out and away from his money-hemorrhaging wife as soon as possible. Not to mention, he wanted any and all reminders of this strangeness out of his life.

"I'll bet you boys need to be on your way and we wouldn't want to keep you." He gestured to the end of the driveway, "Looks like someone's already waiting."

The SHIELD agent who had driven Sam and Dean to their car stood in the driveway like a spectre as he watched the interaction, making sure the brothers retrieved their vehicle without issue.

Taking in the black suit and black, unmarked SUV, Dick immediately thought of serious law enforcement…or mafioso. Yes, the Winchesters helped him and his family, but these two were the rough and uncultured sort he couldn't afford to be seen having a pow-wow with in his driveway. Never mind that the shorter one was a real live episode of "My Strange Addiction - I'm in love with my car."

"You're good to go, Chuckles. We won't skip town." Dean told the agent, having had his fill of SHIELD for the day.

"Yes sir." 4 pairs of eyebrows rose at the respectful address. "Do you require directions or further assistance traveling to Avengers Tower?"

The jaws of Barbara and Richard MacAllen dropped and they stared flabbergasted at Sam and Dean. Barb thought they were nice boys. A little rough around the edges, but they were kind souls. And although she wasn't about to use her teenage daughter, Abigail's, terminology of "stupid hot", she could see they were, indeed, rather attractive. Though they certainly didn't appear to be part of the calibre of people who associated with Tony Stark and Captain America.

Sam assured the agent he and Dean knew how to get to the tower and that he could leave.

The agent nodded once, hopped into the black SUV he had been standing beside, and drove off. Unbeknownst to the Winchesters, he didn't drive far. A block away he switched vehicles and waited for their departure. He was under strict orders from Agent Coulson to tail them and make sure they made it to the tower without issue.

Mark Carolle was a senior agent and had been with the division for almost a decade. He highly respected Phil Coulson (everyone at SHIELD did) and any orders coming directly from him were Priority 1. He didn't know who these two civilians were, but if he, with all his experience, was assigned the grunt work of a simple tail job, then he knew they were heavy-hitters.

As Sam got into the Impala, Dean was faced with Dick's meaty hand extended to deliver what appeared to be a hot and greasy handshake. Wanting the get in the brother's good graces in the hopes that he could pry the details of their association with the Avengers, he was taken down a peg when Dean looked at his hand, looked him in the eye, and then ignored him to once again thank his wife for the pizza.

Feeling a petty thrill as her husband was snubbed, Barb enthusiastically waved as they backed their boat out of her driveway. "You boys take care!"

Those flannel outfits really were quite eye-catching.

They had barely cleared the corner of the yard when they heard Barbara lay into her husband, "Richard, you really are a Dick!"


"Does anyone else feel like scent marking the furniture real quick before they get here?" Clint asked as he settled into his favourite chair on the communal floor of the tower.

The team had just arrived back from Fury's debriefing. After dismissing the Winchesters, Fury had discussed the logistics of their new situation with the Avengers. He and Coulson were adamant the press not get their hands on the truth of the situation. At least not until they were able to provide concrete solutions. The last thing they needed was mass hysteria. The 20 minute lecture boiled down to: we need them so don't be dicks and don't talk to the press.

"Ok, 1) Umm, eww. 2) If anyone gets to rub their junk all over stuff, it's me, considering it's all my stuff and my billion dollar tower being invaded – current company included, Barton." Tony bypassed his teammates as they all sat down on the various chairs and sofas delineating the lounge/entertainment area and went directly to the bar for a drink.

Ignoring Tony, Clint wiggled around in his chair hoping to make the already prominent buttgrooves even more pronounced before the two Winchesters arrived and tried to claim it. It was a cloud of a loveseat, great for two, but absolutely perfect for one lounging, tv watching Hawkeye.

"Hey, grab me a beer while you're over there!" he demanded.

Tony watched as Clint continued to permanently disfigure his $10,000 piece of furniture and, ignoring his request, proceeded to sit down with the rest of the group, drink in hand.

"Where's my beer?" Clint had finally stopped giving the chair a lap dance, confident his prints were ingrained into the cushion beneath him.

Taking a nice long sip of his gin and tonic, Tony let out a very refreshed, "Ahh" and selfishly pronounced, "You don't have beer here; I have beer. In fact, based on the unspeakable trauma you've put my beautiful loveseat through, I'd say you owe me about 60,000 beers."

Clint rolled his eyes and stood up to get himself a drink.

"I know you're a functioning alcoholic, Tony, but the amount of alcohol you've hoarded away in here is an actual fire hazard." Clint deftly hopped over the bar, grabbed a bottle, and popped it open. "I'm just trying to keep this place up to code one beer at a time." Striking a pose, he took a drink.

"You're about as effective as a fart in a mitt, Barton."

"Will you two shut the hell up?! Jesus Christ!" Bucky erupted, unable to listen to the inane squabbling that made up the majority of Clint and Tony's conversations. Usually he found them entertaining as hell, but at the moment he was still trying to distance himself from the shit he'd learned earlier and listening to them wasn't helping. Realizing he was unable to deal with the situation as a whole, he stood up and looked to Natasha who immediately to knew what he needed.

"Spar room. 10 minutes." She said and made her way to the elevator.

Bucky turned to Steve and asked out of habit, "You wanna come?"

Steve knew Bucky. He knew him better than Bucky knew himself sometimes, so he knew that Natasha was the friend Bucky needed at the moment. Steve could see that Bucky and Natasha were having a rather heart-breaking reaction to the confirmation of a higher power and an afterlife. He knew they were good people and wished he could convince them they didn't need to drown themselves in the anguish and fear they were trying, and failing, to hide from the team.

"Nah, Buck, you go on. I'll head down to the gym in a bit. You can join me when you and Nat are finished." He flashed a small smile at the grateful look his friend gave him.

The team watched in silence as Bucky got on the elevator. As soon as the doors closed, Tony asked.

"So…what's the game plan for handling the two Russian wells of despair?"

Knowing Natasha better than anyone in the tower, Clint spoke up from where he was leaning against the bar,

"I'll take care of Nat. She and Bucky will most likely spar out their feelings for the rest of the day. She'll need some time afterwards to fully decompress and then me and some of Tony's Billionaire Vodka will speak to her."

They all looked at Steve for direction on how to help Bucky.

"It's the same for Buck, minus the vodka." He stood up and made his way to the kitchen on the other side of the huge room. "He just needs a few hours."

He opened the fridge and took out the makings of a sandwich and handed the mayo and chicken to Clint, who had followed him at the hint of food. He grabbed the lettuce, tomato, and bacon, and the two of them proceeded to make themselves some sandwiches.

Tony and Bruce were the only ones left sitting. Tony could tell Bruce was a few moments away from a code green and decided they had had enough of this topic for the moment.

"I'm in the mood for some science." He stood up and gestured for Bruce to go first towards the elevator. "Come on, Pinky, let's go try to take over the world!"

Bruce looked at Tony in surprise. He had been expecting to be badgered into discussing the day's insane events and had been feeling a little green under the collar at the prospect. When he realized Tony was trying to help him calm down and still wanted to spend time with him after everything, he felt a rush of warmth for his friend (his best friend, if he was going to be highschool about it). He gave him a small, relieved smile and walked to the elevator.

"That's the same thing we do every night."

"No, I'm Brain, so that's my line."

"I am not Pinky! If anything you're Pinky with your penchant for things shiny."

"Excuse you! It's my lab! I'm definitely Brain!"

"Fine…we'll both be Brain."

"Fine. We'll have to change the song though cause now it'll just sound ridiculous: 'Brain and the Brain Brain Brain Brain Brain Brain – "

"- ok, I get it."

"-Brain Brain Brain Brain –"

"- enough, Tony!"

Steve's super-hearing could just make out Tony's voice continuing to annoy Bruce through the closed elevator doors before Jarvis sent the scientists down to the labs.


"So what are we doing about our 5 o'clock shadow?" Sam asked Dean, as he looked out the back window at the car that had been tailing them a few spots behind in the lane to their right.

Dean shrugged, unconcerned. "Nothing. It's just SHIELD. We're not doing anything that needs hiding, so we'll play nice and let them follow us. If they wanna watch us sit in traffic for the next hour, then who am I to kill a dream?"

New York traffic was no joke. They'd been on the road for 20 minutes and had barely gotten 10 blocks.

"We should've left Baby at the MacAllen's."

Sam scoffed, "You barely lasted 6 hours of separation – I'd hate to see your meltdown after however many days we're here as consultants."

Shuddering at the thought, Dean discreetly patted the steering wheel in reassurance. Noticing Sam was giving him the side-eye, he hurried to turn on the radio, as if that was his intent all along.

"All the honking traffic is making my ears bleed." The beginning chords of 'Ramble On' blasted out into the car. "Nothing Zeppelin can't drown out."

Sam scrunched low in his seat as the people beside him started yelling at them to turn their music down. Dean just laughed and turned it up, singing along.

*1 hour later*

Before being sucked into the quicksand that was NY traffic, Sam and Dean had been planning on stocking up on salt and shells.

"I vote we axe the supply run and head straight to the tower. We'll be hours in this madness."

Sam emphatically agreed and got out his phone. "I'm going to double-check the parking situation at the tower." Normally the brothers never gave a second thought about parking, it was such a minute detail, but in this city it was a legitimate concern.

Dean jerked his thumb at their tail, which had managed to climb up right behind them and suggested Sam go ask their spook-y friend. Knowing he had a few minutes before they'd be able to move forward, Sam got out of the car and made his way towards the SHIELD agent. Their tail had switched out the black SUV for a beige, semi-rusted Toyota. Upon approaching the vehicle he was impressed to note that the car's crusty appearance was a trompe l'oeil – the rust and general grossness had been painted on. The ruse only proved false when inspected closely. Sam appreciated SHIELD's effort in appearing underwhelming and harmless without compromising the integrity and efficacy of the vehicle.

Mark Carolle watched in confusion as the taller Winchester exited the car. He knew the chances of them realizing he was a tail were slim. In all his years, he had only been spotted once and that was by a CIA agent after Mark had made a rookie mistake. The confusion turned into mild alarm when he realized one of his targets was headed towards his vehicle and then into "Abort! Abort!" level panic when he strolled right up to Mark's door and knocked on the window. Mark spent an embarrassing second frozen with inaction until a second knock jolted him into rolling down his window.

"Yes, sir? Can I help you?"

Sam leaned down and gave the agent a friendly smile, trying to calm down the panic he could see on the agent's face.

"Hi Agent. Sorry to bother you, but my brother and I were wondering if you could tell us where we're to park when we arrive at the tower." He looked ruefully at the traffic they were jammed in and added, "If we ever make it."

Mark gave a polite chuckle and provided the parking info. Before Sam could walk away he asked, "I have to know – how did you know it was me? What gave it away?"

Sam could've named about 3 things that gave him away, but after a quick deliberation decided to withhold the information. He didn't want it to be used against him and Dean at a later date.

"Nothing specifically gave you away. We just know when we're being tailed. Experience, I guess." Sam shrugged and walked away, throwing a "Thanks again!" over his shoulder.

Once Sam was in back in his car, Mark dialed Coulson's number and informed him the Winchester's had made him. There was a beat of silence on the other end, indicating Coulson had been thrown by the information.

"Very interesting. Escort them the rest of the way to the tower. Agent Hill will be waiting for them inside."


Coulson turned to Fury with a raised eyebrow and said simple, "They made Carolle."

Nick's one eye blinked in surprise. Nobody got the jump on Carolle. Nobody. Not even Fury himself had spotted him when Pierce had ordered Mark to tail him before the revelation of Hydra.



Coulson and Fury looked at each other and knew they were both thinking of how best to pitch SHIELD to the Winchesters. They had real potential and wouldn't be as green as other recruits.

After a brief contemplation, Fury shook his head, "This is a pipe dream. They wouldn't have any interest in SHIELD. We have nothing to offer them."

"…How much pie do we have?"
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