Lambs for Slaughter Part 2

Chapter 18

Amara jerked her head up when the hairs on the back of her neck tingled in warning. She narrowed her eyes in concentration before melting into the shadows, twisting towards the destination within her mind's eye and stepping back into reality atop one of the various skyscrapers littering the city center.

The epicenter of the quake of power she felt even hundreds of miles away hovered directly over a tower donning the single letter "A." Amara couldn't help the curiosity that buzzed beneath her skin as she wondered what force could have possibly been strong enough to reach her.

Her immediate thoughts fell to her brother - but, no. That couldn't be right. He would have confronted her directly if he was ready to face her wrath, not hidden behind a spell. And Amara was positive now that what she felt was the unmistakable pull of magic.

She hated magic.

But if it was forceful enough to get her attention, then she was sure it had something to do with the Mark, which meant it had something to do with Dean. The thought had her scowling, fury building up rapidly deep within her chest. Someone had the audacity to touch what was hers? To perform dirty, untrustworthy, evil magic on her paramour was unforgivable.

Amara wouldn't allow such a grievance to stand. Not when all of the final pieces of the puzzle were almost in place. She had been trying to get her brother's attention, but it was clear now that her efforts were on too small of a scale. He must have done the cost analysis of losing the handful of grimy humans in the park and the entire parish in the church. It wasn't enough. If she wanted to force him to show himself, Amara had to step up her game.

She smirked, thinking of her Dean. Her stubborn, strong, sweet, Dean. He would say something ridiculous like, 'Go big or go home.' Amara sucked in a sharp inhale of breath, dark eyes focused on the tower that acted as his prison. "Very well, my love. I'll go big."

XX

Once Dean, Bucky, and Sam Wilson disappeared behind the closed doors, a steady wave of awkwardness settled over the room. The Avengers glanced warily at the younger Winchester, Agent Hotchner, and Dr. Reid before Steve cleared his throat to diffuse the rising tension.

"Why don't we head back upstairs to salvage what's left of lunch? We got a bit sidetracked."

As they headed towards the elevator, Sam shook his head and scratched at the back of his neck, turning to Agent Hotchner with a lowered voice. "Shouldn't I go up and check on Dean? I'm his brother. What could Sergeant Barnes say to him that I couldn't?"

The agent clapped a hand on Sam's shoulder, leaning in with the same tone. "Dean will come to us when he's ready, Sam. But we need to respect his space, and I think it's a good idea to have two people who have the best chance of understanding Dean's headspace up there with him right now."

Steve silently agreed, unable to keep from listening in, but kept his attention elsewhere to give them some semblance of privacy.

Sam blew out a breath and agreed with a slump of his shoulders. Tony took over the conversation on the way up to the common floor, distracting everyone by updating them on the problem at hand.

"The shipments that I requested for this fight against Amara have all arrived in the loading deck. After we get some food in us, I'd like to have everyone look over their weapons and tools. I've asked for everything to be sent to my lab where I can make any modifications we might need."

Clint and Natasha asked a few questions about their new ammunition while the others filtered through the mess in the kitchen. Steve grimaced and went to check the grill on the patio, grateful that Bucky at least had the foresight to turn off the gas. The burgers were a lost cause, charred and inedible, as were the slew of vegetables Dean had been cutting before his "episode," and the ruined sides that scattered the floor. Bruce, Agent Hotchner, and Dr. Reid helped him clean up while Rhodes pulled out the take-out menus.