Hello everyone! Got a story fresh one ready to go. In this chapter I will finally start answering questions! What questions? Well, you will just have to read! Thank you guys for your reviews. I'm also happy on your guys reactions to the beginning of Luke and Ash's friendship which in some of my future chapters looks like its going to turn into the Bill and Ted's excellent adventure.

Quote in the story was found online by St. Angela Merici.

Warnings: Unbeta, mild violence

Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural or the Avengers

Chapter Seventeen: Names

"I sat down on the street took a look at myself
Said where you going man you know the world is headed for hell
Say your goodbyes if you've got someone you can say goodbye to"

- How far we've come, Matchbox 20

"What's this?" Luke inquired as he picked up a thick stack of important looking documents with his good hand. His other hand was in a cast at the moment with explicit pictures of genitals, courtesy of Dean. It was a hard lesson Luke had learned about falling asleep in the Impala.

Bobby didn't answer Luke's question as he sat the grocery bags down on the old counter and started to unpack. Luke's gaze returned to the papers as he scanned the first page. Eyes widened as he read two little bold letters.

"Adoption papers?" Luke inquired again. Bobby had his back turned to him and it wasn't until he unpacked cheerios, coffee, two boxes of pasta and a box of Lipton tea did he finally answer.

"Well… I thought that since the whole town already thinks that you're…well, you know. And Ash still hasn't found any leads about you so…" Bobby trailed off and finished his thought as he tapped the papers in Luke's hands twice. Bobby didn't want to go into it how the Sheriff had been on his ass about adopting him for two months now. Or how the damn townspeople keep on asking about how 'his boy' is doing.

"So, I would be your son?" Luke asked as he slowly turned the pages. Bobby returned to unpacking the groceries.

"After you broke your arm from the last hunt… I figured the adoption would be good for insurance, getting your license and whatever else."

Luke thoughtfully mulled over Bobby's answer. The adoption papers must mean something more than just insurance coverage, Luke thought. Especially when insurance cards can be easily stolen or created.

But then again, I still don't have a last name...

Whatever Bobby's true intentions, Luke made his decision. He quickly retrieved a pen from the den.

"So, I can have your surname?" Luke asked excitedly as he placed his pen on the blank signature line. Bobby paused again and turned to Luke. There was a strange look in his eyes that Luke only noticed when Bobby had two and a half bottles of his favorite whisky.

"If you like. Though it's better than Winchester. You don't need anymore bad luck." Bobby suggested as he fidgeted with the groceries. Luke on the other hand, grinned.

"Great! So Luke Singer it is." Luke declared and made to write his new signature until Bobby spoke.

"You should know I have a lot of enemies. Some nasty creatures might try to hurt or use you to get to me."

"Really Bobby?" Luke raised an eyebrow. "I have a super secret spy agency after me. And I just killed a shifter with a broken arm just last week." Luke replied confidently waving his cast arm.

"You would be the son of the town drunk." Bobby pointed out.

"You would be the father of a fugitive." Luke countered.

"I would be a terrible father."

"I could be a terrible son."

The two stared at each other for a tense moment until Bobby sighed and returned to his task.

"Fine. Just don't do something stupid and get yourself killed."

And with that, Luke had his permission. Neat and elegant curves sank into the bright white paper. Five minutes later, Luke Singer was finished. He placed the papers on the counter in front of Bobby with a wider grin than before.

"So," Luke began, eyes sparkling with glee, "Do I get a middle name?"

Luke was answered with the Lipton tea box flying at his head.

If there was one thing that agent McMinn prided himself on, it was his stealth ability that he has been able to keep even in his old age.

"Just a couple of hours." He mumbled to himself as he gave a quick glance at his fishing box. He made it to the parking garage which was empty of its occupants due to the fact that most normal people were still at work.

Spotting his car, he began his stealthy walk until a strange gurgling sound echoed. The sound itself was strange enough that it stopped the agent in his tracks, keys in hand.

He's not the type to jump at every small noise but...

His gut just dropped.

And if there was one thing he will never forget in his twenty-five years on the job, its that one should never ignore one's gut. So, with a reluctant decision made, he followed the echo.

As he walked, the noises became less distorted and more of a sputtering. He arrived at the next section in the garage, separated by a cement wall in which the noise has now turned to choking. He kept close to the wall as he slowly leaned around the corner to see-

A woman on the ground, gurgling and gasping for breath as she bled from a slash wound from her neck. A man that he recognized as the head intern, Mitch, knelt before her. Shocked, the agent watched in horror as the head intern took a silver goblet and held it under her neck.

It is only when he saw the bloody knife in the intern's hand, the agent finally broke out of his shock.

Jesus Christ! Does no one screen the interns anymore? The agent reached for his holster and checked for extra bullets only to find his pockets empty.

After a few silent cursed words, he wondered how in hell he forgot his extra magazines when he remembered that he had rushed out of his office so fast with his fishing gear that he forgot everything else. Including extra bullets.

And he thought Henriksen had a problem.

"Tire quiero patem me a di"

Returning to the problem at hand, the intern is now speaking some kind of Latin into the goblet now filled with the woman's blood.

Fantastic.

"Everything is almost in place Father." Mitch announces into the cup. McMinn quietly raised his gun and crept away from the wall, towards Mitch. "We're joining forces with SHIELD. It's only a matter of time before we have SHIELD infiltrated as well. And then there will be no place that the trickster can hide."

Dear lord, McMinn thought. He needs back up. Mitch the intern isn't just violent, he's insane. He's only seven feet from the kid now, his back is still to him and the poor woman is clearly long gone. Mitch spoke again, as if he was having a conversation with a cup of blood.

"But I still don't understand! How can the trickster bypass the seals? No...of course not father. I would never doubt your plans...I will find him. In fact, I'm looking for a new host as of now."

Agent McMinn pressed the gun to the back of Mitch's head.

"Put the weapon down." McMinn ordered.

"It's awfully rude to interrupt a conversation."

"You need help Mitch. And I can't help you until you put the knife down."

"Help me? You're too kind agent Aron McMInn." Mitch raised his hands, goblet and knife in air in an almost mock surrender. He tilted his head backwards and gave McMinn a manic grin. "But I think Agent Wang needs help. Oops, I mean, needed."

Agent McMinn was about to order him to the floor when Mitch's eyes turned black.

He hesitated. Or more like froze with fear to the spot. But nevertheless it was a mistake because something hit him hard enough that he flew backwards into someone's car windshield. Dazed, he felt the car window crumble beneath him. He looked up only to see Mitch's pitch black eyes.

"I hope I didn't injure you. It's just that I rarely get to speak to my father and I rarely have such good news to tell him."

Agent McMinn isn't listening. He lost his gun and he's shaking because the only words he can hear are his grandmothers.

Remember that the Devil doesn't sleep

Mitch (no, not Mitch but a monster) grabbed him roughly and raised him to eye level.

"Really sorry to say this boss but it looks like you won't be able to make it to that fishing trip." Mitch cooed. "But how about a nice long rest?"

McMinn's can't feel his legs and he cannot remove the iron grip that his intern has on him.

So, the first time in a very long time, he prayed.

Remember that the Devil doesn't sleep my boy

Mitch opened his mouth and black smoke poured out of his mouth into the agent's.

Because he seeks our ruin in a thousand ways

Mouth, eyes, and nose are all filled. Everything is pushed and pulled until he felt himself fall from his body.

Oh God

There is nothing but darkness. He is darkness.

He is no more.

Mitch's body falls unceremoniously to the ground as McMinn's eyes steadily returned to normal color. The body of agent McMinn straightened up and brushed pieces of broken glass off his suit. Without so much as a limp, he causally walked back to the dead woman and picked up his goblet.

"Sorry for the interruption Father, but it looks like I just received a promotion."

His laughter echoed throughout the garage while the screams of the former agent went unheard.

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