Hey, look, I wrote another one! Can I just say that I hate that Adam was killed off -twice! So, I had to do something about it. Anyway, enjoy.

Disclaimer: Do not own, yada yada yada

July 2006

"Barton," Clint answered his phone groggily, after placing his hearing aid into his ear, "What d'you need?"

"Agent," came Nick Fury's deep voice, "I need you to come to the base in D.C. for a briefing. You need to be there in four hours."

He ended the call before Clint could even get a word in, and he groaned a bit.

"Balls," he muttered, slipping out of bed and heading towards the closet to find some pants, and he paused briefly for a moment. "Wow. I sounded like Bobby." He shook his head, as if that would help to clear it, and returned to his task.

He arrived at the D.C. base in just under three and a half hours – a new record, he thought smugly – and was directed to go immediately to the Director's office. Fury sat behind his desk, looking like a pirate, and Natasha Romanoff and Phil Coulson stood in front of the slightly (okay, very, but Clint would never admit it) imposing man.

"So," Clint said in a joking tone. "The gang's all here, then. What do you need, boss-man?"

Fury stared at him, his face impassive.

"We have had a disturbance called in a few hours ago from Wisdom, Minnesota. The disturbances were reported as being non-human." Fury's one good eye bored into Clint, and he shifted slightly. "The witness is a kid, and his mother's either missing or dead because of these things. You need to look into it."

Clint nodded.

"You never did tell me what the boy saw," Natasha said, her curiosity finally getting the better of her.

"He heard something in his kitchen and saw a creature attacking his mother." Fury said. "What got us interested was that the attacker looked like his neighbor, but he said the eyes were all black."

Clint frowned. Demons? The way that the eyes were described, it certainly sounded like it, but what would demons want with some woman?

"You and Agent Romanoff better be going now, Barton," said Coulson. "Good luck."

Wisdom was a quiet town. It was nice, Clint thought to himself as he and Natasha walked to the house of the boy who had witnessed their non-human entity.

For the most part, Clint was just glad that he'd had enough time to call Sam and Dean and let them know that he would take the case here. He was trying to keep them out of S.H.I.E.L.D. for as long as possible, after all, and it really wouldn't help if they showed up here pretending to be Federal Agents.

Natasha was the one who knocked on the door of the boy's home, and Clint stood next to her, his back straight. After a moment or so, a boy who looked to be about fifteen or sixteen, with short blond hair and bright blue eyes that were dulled by sadness, opened it.

"You cops?" the boy asked them blandly.

Clint gave him a small smile and shook his head.

"Nah," he said. "Well, sort of. We're Agents Romanoff and Barton, is it okay if we come in to talk with you about what you saw?"

The boy stood there for a moment, clearly trying to see if the two of them had any ulterior motives. Finally, he sighed and motioned for them to come in, shutting and locking the door behind him.

"I'm Adam," he introduced himself, leading the two agents into the kitchen.

"I would say it's nice to meet you, Adam, but I know that you wish we didn't have to come at all," Clint commented, and Adam gave a tiny nod of acknowledgement.

Natasha watched the boy for a while, her facial expression impassive.

"Do you have anyone else that you can call?" she asked him after a moment of silence, and Adam shrugged.

"I have a dad," he said. "But I only found out about him a few years ago, and we don't really see each other often." He admitted.

Clint leaned towards him, elbows on the worn kitchen table.

"Can you tell me his name?" he asked, ready to pull out his phone if needed.

Adam nodded.

"Yeah," he said. "His name is John Winchester."

"So, he's your brother." Natasha said after Clint pulled her in a room adjacent to the kitchen of Adam's house.

Clint ran a hand through his hair, his teeth gritted. He felt angry, he just didn't know if that anger was directed at his father, or at John's son, his brother.

He had another brother.

Sam and Dean were going to be pissed at Dad once Clint told them. That is, if they would ever answer their damn phones every once in a while, or if they wouldn't change their numbers every so often and forget to tell him.

"What am I going to do, Nat?" he asked his partner, feeling very tired and lost. "I can't just ignore the fact that he's my brother, even if I'm not technically related to him that way. Still share DNA, though." He hummed thoughtfully.

"Tell him the truth," Natasha offered. "Take him home, introduce him to Laura and Cooper, try to get a hold of your brothers, let him know that he has a family out there, even if we never do find his mother. Speaking of, do you have an idea of what took her?"

Clint nodded, his lips turned down in a frown.

"I think a demon. Kid said it looked like his neighbor, but 'the eyes were wrong'. I'll ask him about it."

"Ask me about what?"

Adam stared at them, his face unreadable, and Clint cursed internally. Well, Natasha had told him that the truth was probably the best option in this situation, so why not give it a shot?

"Adam," he began, "how much do you know about John Winchester?"

Adam shrugged.

"Not too much," he admitted. "Uh, he's like, a mechanic, or something. He drives a really cool car."

"A nineteen sixty-seven black Chevy Impala, right?" Clint said. "Nice car. There's an army man figure stuck in the ashtray in the back, and the heat rattles when you turn it on. John always listens to classic rock while he drives."

The younger boy stared at him, his blue eyes wide.

"How did you know all of that?" he demanded. He looked upset, which was understandable, given the circumstances.

Clint shot him a tired smile.

"Well, kid," he said. "I guess this is a family reunion. John is my father, too."

His brother (half-brother? Did he count as 'half' when Clint was adopted?) blinked at him before smirking a little bit, although his face held no humor.

"Right," he said. "That's a great joke. I'd like the truth now, please."

Clint looked to Natasha helplessly, and she shook her head at him.

"No," she said. "I'm not getting involved in this discussion. Your family could rival mine for insanity."

The archer glared at her, but didn't push. No sense in making Natasha pissed at him; she was scary enough as is.

"I really am your brother. Um, technically I guess we're cousins or something, but John adopted me when I was four."

Adam gave him a scrutinizing look, as if staring at him would determine the truth, but apparently he didn't see anything that could convince him that Clint was lying to him.

"I-" he tried to say, his face scrunched up. "I don't even, I never knew… Dad never said that he had another kid." He told Clint, and he looked like he might actually cry.

Well, that sure made Clint feel like an ass.

"Kids," Natasha informed him. "Two other brothers. Not adopted."

Clint glared at her.

"I thought you weren't getting involved in our conversation," he said accusingly, and Nat smirked a little at him.

"Well, it didn't look like you were going to tell him, so I helped. You're welcome."

"Nat, you take the boy the farmhouse and have Laura look after him. I'll go after the demon."

Natasha opened her mouth to retort as Clint loaded up his shotgun with rock salt, but his glare silenced her. She knew of the supernatural, yes, but she'd only learned the most basic parts of it, and wouldn't be able to do much against an actual demon. Clint, on the other hand, has over twenty years of experience fighting demons, and he knows exactly what he's doing. He has holy water strapped to his belt and chalk for devils traps, should it come to that. He also has plenty of exorcisms memorized, and is more than ready to use them.

"I want to help!" Adam said to Clint, who turned and looked at him with a grave expression. "It's my mom who got taken!"

"Kid," he said slowly, "How old are you?"

"I'm sixteen," Adam replied a little loftily, "I don't need to be babied."

Clint stared at him with a slight frown.

"I'm not even letting Natasha help me with this, kid, and she's a trained assassin – and by the way, what I just said doesn't leave this room. It's not about being tough or an adult, or whatever, it's about experience. I will tell you everything the next time I see you, because I'm sure you'll be able to handle it. But right now, you coming along would just be a hindrance, and I can't let myself be distracted." He said. "Please. Just do what I ask."

Adam glared at him a little, but didn't protest when Natasha lead him away to the door and on his way to the farmhouse.

Clint sighed once they were gone and shouldered his gun.

It didn't take long for him to find the demon. He'd learned the signs of demonic activity so long ago that they were second nature to him, and he followed a sporadic trail of powdery yellow sulfur to an old gas station about twenty or so miles out of town.

"I was hoping for someone else," a man's voice said as soon as Clint stepped inside the dilapidated building. "But of course, I got stuck with a Fed playing hero."

The demon – his vessel was a man in his mid-fifties with a receding hairline and crow's feet lining his eyes – smirked at the Hunter. Clint gave him a cold stare.

"Where is the woman?" he asked, his voice a low growl, but the demon just gave a mirthful laugh.

"You really think that your'e going to intimidate me?" The way that he said it was like someone had just told him the best joke in the entire world. "Please." His eyes flickered, and they stared out at Clint, as black as a starless sky.

Clint grinned.

"Actually, you were just what I was looking for. Not very good at covering your trail, are you?" His grin faded away. "Sulfur gave you away, hell spawn."

Brief surprise flashed over the demon's features, but he quickly schooled himself.

"Ah, someone who actually knows a thing or two," he commented. "Still, I don't think you- Aurgh!"

Clint had gotten close enough to spill the contents of one of his bottles of holy water at the demon's face, and it screamed in agony.

In a blind rage, the demon charged at him, and Clint hastily rushed out through the doors of the building. Suddenly, the demon stopped, as if he had run into an invisible wall. It looked downwards, and saw a devils trap that Clint had drawn on the pavement outside of the door.

"I'm sorry, you were saying?" Clint asked, and the demon gnashed his teeth at him.

"You stupid son of a b-" the demon's insult was cut off when Clint threw another small bottle of holy water at him, and he screamed as steam rose off of it's borrowed skin.

"Now, now," the archer quipped. "Let's not say anything that we'll be regretting."

The demon glared, but did not say another word. Clint gave it a slightly feral grin.

"Want to tell me where the woman is?" he asked, holding up another bottle.

The demon eyed it warily, but did not speak. Clint uncapped the bottle, eyebrows raised.

"Are you sure?"

"She's dead," the demon spat. "I slit her stupid whore throat and laughed while I did it. You Hunters are all the same, so stupid thinking you can save every worthless human life." He laughed bitterly. "Send me back to Hell. I'll just come back, and when I do, it will be for you!"

Crap. Adam's mother was dead. This was so not good. He'd had enough of the demon's taunting, though, and decided to get rid of it before he did something that he would regret.

"Exorcizamus te, Omnis Immundus Spiritus, Omnis Satanica Potestas, Omnis Incursio Infernalis Adversarii, Omnis Congregatio et Secta Diabolica, Ergo Draco Maledicte, Ut Ecclesiam Tuam Secura, Tibi Facias Libertate Servire, Te Rogamus, Audi Nos!" he chanted, and watched as the man's head was thrown backwards as the demon was expelled in a stream of thick, black smoke.

As soon as the demon was gone, he knelt on the ground next to the man who it had been possessing and checked for a pulse. Finding none, he swore quietly to himself.

Well, this was going to be fun to explain.

Word Count: 2,294 without A/N