The Trust of a Misfit Toy

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The Trust of a Misfit Toy
Date of Scene: 31 August 2017
Location: The Triskelion
Synopsis: Sam Winchester takes a huge step, asking Melinda May to make him into a SHIELD agent.
Cast of Characters: Melinda May, Sam Winchester




Sam Winchester has posed:
August 31, 2025

It is a day or so before the rag-tag group of heroes that has captured James Barnes will attempt whatever it is they’re going to attempt vis a vis saving his sanity. Sam Winchester has been playing guard duty quite often of late.

He’s also handling things a little differently this time. He reported the capture to Melinda May, for one thing. The fact that some magical method was to be employed to fix him. She probably got it all in duplicate because of Mercy’s call, the same one that brought Captain America onto the scene.

His shift is over though, and he’s done some thinking. Long, hard thinking.

He heads to the Triskelion, where the tall man pauses to knock thrice on May’s door. He’s even wearing a suit. He certainly has a good assortment of them. He used to use them to scam people out of the information that would save their lives. He’s been wearing them to briefings. Unlike his brother, he’s as comfortable in them as he is in the flannel. He had, after all, once pursued a professional career.

“Agent Mom,” he greets, warmly offering her the nickname as a gift rather than as a poke. “You got a minute?”

Melinda May has posed:
“Come in,” May calls at the knocks, before Sam dares call her Agent Mom. It’s missing all of the negative associations that The Cavalry has, but still. The moniker earns the tall young man a raised eyebrow.

She looks at him currently dressed in the clearly off-the-rack suit for several seconds, then nods toward a chair. “I do.”

The paperwork she’d had spread out on her desk is quickly and efficiently tucked away into a folder and set aside. “What’s on your mind, Sam?” She also turns and takes a mug from the small sideboard that appears to have been turned into a tea station. She sets it on the desk as a wordless offer of something to drink.

Sam Winchester has posed:
Raised eyebrows hold no fear for one Sam Winchester. If anything, the flat expression produces a boyish and wholly unrepentant grin, sunny with a side of sparkling hazel eyes. She’s earned it in both senses of the word, both the positive ones where she’s become a sort of mother figure to he who has known none, and the ones that are tease worthy, where she truly does fall right into the realm of fantastic -mother henning.-

“Yes please,” he says in regards to the tea, not sure if he’s supposed to reach for the pot or not. He does anyway, pouring whatever’s in there. If it’s just hot water he’ll pick a tea at random. He has very little sophistication where that is concerned, but tea’s not complicated. Put leaf stuff in leaf thing if there is a leaf thing, put in hot water. Put bag in hot water if there is a bag. A tasty potion of revitalization is born.

What’s on his mind, she asks, and he hesitates. This is a big step. A huge step. Dean wanting him to do it has made it easier, but…

But it still fills him with a lot of apprehension. For all that it makes use of his expensive education. For all that it will allow him to do what he does without lying, theft, or con artistry. Well, probably some lying. It’s a spy organization after all. For all that he can pay his bills.

Hunt, and earn a living. Have his cake, and eat it too. Earn stability, and save lives.

It’s not without complications.

“If, theoretically, I were interested in changing my consultant status to, say, an Agent status,” Sam says, his word choice suddenly careful. “Would SHIELD have an interest in entertaining the idea?”

Melinda May has posed:
May lets Sam pour the already prepared tea while she considers his question. “No.” And before he can start to protest, she continues.

“SHIELD isn’t entertaining the idea. I’ve been asked more than once why you weren’t recruited outright instead of being signed on as a consultant.” She then tops up her own mug and takes a sip of the tea. “There are people in WAND that were honestly angry at me for not dragging you in by your ears so they could recruit you and get you to spill all of your knowledge at once.”

Sam Winchester has posed:
When she says ‘no’ he initially looks a little disappointed. Not end-of-the-world disappointed. He’s a guy who is more used to /not/ getting the things he wants than anything else.

But then she says the rest, and he gives an uncertain half grin, as if still not 100% sure of what he’s hearing. “That would have gone badly,” he admits, rubbing the back of his neck. But she knows that. She sort of took their measure pretty early on, did Agent May, and the fact that he’s sitting here asking this now is testament to the power of her technique.

Keep at them. Earn trust. Demonstrate the benefits.

As it is, trying to spill all his knowledge at once seems like a daunting task. But maybe he’s got somewhere to kind of start, he supposes. He sheepishly pulls out this ridiculous multi-page resume.

The thing is like no resume ever written. Education. Bachelor of Arts, Pre-Law, Stanford University, 4.0 GPA.

And then:

Experience:

A painstaking 1-3 sentence description of every hunt he’s participated in (or at least the ones he remembers participating in), with the bad things he personally accounted for bolded, from the time he was 8 years old. There are 300 or so of these. “Uh. In case you need it on file,” he says, laying it on her desk.

A pause. An admission.

“I’m...I mean I’m a little messed up. But...I think I could do a lot of good here.”

Melinda May has posed:
Accepting the stack of paper, she glances through it briefly before setting it down. “If what I just saw is accurate, you have more successful missions to your name than some of our veteran field agents. And I’m guessing if Dean were to hand me something similar, it would be even longer?”

It just makes her want to track down John Winchester (again) and give him a piece of her mind. In the form of one of her taser batons.

She stalls for a moment by taking a sip of her tea, then offers a bit wryly, “Who here isn’t messed up in some way or other? Now, you’ll likely have to talk with someone from the Psych department, but that will mostly be to confirm that you are mentally capable of doing your job.”

Which May already knows he is more than capable of. That’s probably part of his ‘messed up’-ness. That he CAN get his job done despite everything.

Sam Winchester has posed:
There’s a quick, rueful smile. On the one hand he can feel some pride for his accomplishments, for all those successful missions. On the other, he feels a little discomfited by them for dozens of reasons he can’t explain.

“Yeah. Dean’s a much better Hunter than I ever will be,” Sam says, without any particular jealousy. If anything, there’s real admiration there. “But...I don’t think he’ll follow me down this road.”

One issue that psych department will find is co-dependency with his brother, but...breaking away, just a bit, is maybe a step in the right direction. Save that Dean wanted him to do it as a sort of “last wish,” which Sam hopes will be anything but. The rest is indeed the ability to get the job done no matter what. The lingering after-effects of growing up with an abusive, neglectful parent. Bundles of repressed anger, too. And boatloads of PTSD, but that’s got to be par for the course for any SHIELD agent.

“I do think he’ll stay in New York though.”

He pauses.

“There are um. Some things I’d better disclose,” he says. He did promise May he’d try to do better in the disclosing things department, and before he signs on the dotted line-- to join a government agency, no less-- he decides he’d better go there, even if it ultimately tanks his chances. Better to disclose the issues to the woman who will surely be his SO than to hold on to them, to have her end up finding out some other way. Better to give SHIELD the chance to take a pass if they need to, as well. Though he’s concerned about what else they might do, well.

He’s telling May. He’s not telling all of SHIELD. He trusts her enough to trust that she won’t do anything hurtful in response. He might not like everything she’ll want to do, but...he doesn’t see her, say, dumping him into a black site.

Melinda May has posed:
May nods when Sam says he thinks Dean is going to stay in New York. That can only be for the better. She’s also completely unsurprised that Dean isn’t likely to go for the full SHIELD route. It just doesn’t seem the sort of thing he’d do. But it doesn’t mean that May isn’t going to still worry about him.

“Something other than the fact that you’ve been injecting demon blood like heroin?” There’s a hint of disapproval there, which in May-speak means she’s VERY displeased by Sam’s poor life choices. “Dean told me. And you’re right that that needs to be disclosed. Traceable in a tox screen or not, it’s an altering substance, and you know that will not go over well.”

She promptly holds up a hand to again stop any protests before they start, and adds to what she’s already said. “But, that being said, it’s also a pre-existing condition, and possibly something we can help you regulate and control without having to trap and drain demons. Other than the psychological effects of that, there are more than a few health risks involved there, and you know it.”

Sam Winchester has posed:
“When I took the tox screen I didn’t know what was going on,” Sam points out.

Her lecture sort of crumples him in on himself. He’s not surprised she knows. The Worry Train has circled round, and the only one who probably doesn’t have the memo at this point is--

Well. No one. There’s no one. All his friends now know the source of his shame. It makes him wish he’d kept it secret. “The magic inherent to demonic possession burns out any STDs, diseases, or even blood compatibility issues,” Sam murmurs. “I ran some tests. Demonic blood isn’t Type A, or type O, or anything like that. It’s just...type demon.”

This isn’t the point, and he knows it isn’t the point, but he feels the need to share it anyway.

Quietly, “May, I think I’m going to die if I don’t get it. I started fantasizing about it after my release and held out for a week. By the end of that week, the cramps were excruciating. The headache. I could barely see. I damn near woke up screaming. I was ready to vomit up everything I’d ever eaten. I managed to find what I needed because I’d already laid groundwork. I’m not just getting my jollies here. I think Hydra...I think Hydra changed my whole damned species. It doesn’t impair me, it’s not like alcohol.”

It feels as good as heroin, but it doesn’t leave him high. Instead, it fuels certain abilities.

“And I mean...okay, so I’m not human. Entirely. Neither are a lot of people. I can do a lot of good with these abilities. I already have. If I hadn’t had the TK, the junkyard capture would have gone a lot differently.”

He looks down, troubled, a little defensive (as any addict is), struggling with a shame that’s as old as his birth.

And adds: “The other thing I want to disclose is Hydra still wants me alive. The Soldier was happy to try to kill Dean, Fred, Mercy. He went out of his way to spare me, though.” Later, he will get express confirmation that Hydra wanted him released back out into the wild, a fact which he will also disclose. It gives him chills. “I don’t know what they want with me. I don’t know why they’d bother to do all they did. Maybe-- religious fanaticism. The interrogation got to its very worst when I said none of this-- none of the powers-- ought to be happening.”

Melinda May has posed:
“Then give our biochemist teams a chance to isolate what is unique to demon blood, and see if we can synthesize something for you to use instead.” If she can get SHIELD scientists to find a way to allow him to continue to function without being dependent on demons, she’s going to do that. Because if nothing else, it frees him from the stigma and physical dependence. So it ends up being like a Type 1 Diabetic having to inject insulin for their entire life. Better that than the alternative.

Sam Winchester has posed:
Sam stares at May in something like amazement. He’s got a lot to learn about SHIELD and what it can do, and while he prides himself on thinking outside the box he hadn’t thought of this.

“I’ll uh-- yeah, I’ll go see them,” he says, and means it. He doesn’t exactly love what he’s doing. He might have to consult with them himself, though. There’s probably a biochemical element. There’s definitely a magical one. Or some other wizard might. He might not be able to do it.

Still, her words transform his dilemma into something that had no solution and into something that does.

And if they can’t find one-- he’s still, deep down, a person who is used to disappointment-- well, at least at that point they tried.

Melinda May has posed:
May nods at that, seeing on Sam’s face that it was an alternative he’d not considered. Kid really needs to work on controlling how his reactions show on his face if he ever ends up having to do any covert mission work. Sadly, though, she’s not surprised by the expressions she sees. Clearly, he’s still stuck in the ‘lack of resources’ mindset. That does, admittedly, take time to get used to.

“I’ll have the recruitment documents drafted up and ready by tomorrow, and once they’re finalized I’ll make sure you get in to talk with someone from R&D. Now. About Hydra.”

She knows that that is the real quandary that they’ll need to figure out. But. Sam doesn’t have to figure it out by himself or even with his little gang of misfit toys. That’s one thing that May can remind him of as often as necessary.

Sam Winchester has posed:
Sam is, arguably, himself a misfit toy.

In the worst way.

The young man flashes a grin that’s half excited, half nervous when she says she’ll draw up the paperwork. His first job! His first real job! His last job, in fact, if he has his way. He decides he looks like a dork, clears his throat, and focuses.

“The only interrogation they ever gave me focused on my powers, on me,” he says softly. “Sometimes Barnes would poke at me a little about my friends, but never in any serious way. Mostly they used Fred and Dean to threaten me. They wanted to know about Yellow Eyes. Azazel. They wanted to know about my precognition, my telekinesis. Once they got me to admit the story, the injections started.”

Melinda May has posed:
Okay, now she can see why Darcy has always insisted on calling Sam a puppy. There are the occasional things he does that are just … like an overly excited golden retriever puppy. Not that she’ll ever admit to thinking that. And besides, he remembered his self-control quickly enough. It proves that he can be taught.

May’s expression doesn’t change beyond the faintest flicker of a frown as Sam describes what Hydra -- and Barnes -- did while they had him held captive. Especially the fact that they didn’t start with the injections until after they got Sam to tell them about it. That means they’re working from his information alone, and that’s alarming.

“Then it’s all the more important that we destroy this Azazel. It sounds to me like they’re trying to use what the demon did to you to try and resurrect their super soldier program. Again.” One thing you have to give Hydra. They’re persistent bastards.

Sam Winchester has posed:
“Maybe,” Sam says. “But...that would be inefficient. There can’t be that many kids out there who got a big dose of demon blood at birth. Enough that they knew what to do, maybe.”

He frowns down at himself. Nothing about his changes seem to be making him into a super soldier of all things. Then again, it gave him what he needed to help catch one. With a lot of advance planning, and a lot of bombs.

“Dad’s been obsessed with finding that demon for over two decades. I’m not sure he’s on this plane anymore,” Winchester the Younger admits. “And I sure don’t know what he wanted with me, or anyone else. It seems loony tunes. He literally invested some of his power into me. He had to give some up, I think, given every principle of magic I’ve ever encountered, to do what he did. And he’s just. Let me be. For 21, nearly 22 years.”

Melinda May has posed:
Leave him be? After that big an investment? May can’t really believe that. It would be far more probable that this demon is biding his time waiting for Sam to be ‘ready’ before claiming the return on his investment. It’s a horribly callous way to think, but that’s been part of her job for a very long time now. Think of all scenarios, including worst case, and make sure NONE of them happen.

“Hydra spent decades after Project Rebirth trying to recreate what had been done with Captain Rogers, even with knowing he was the only successful test subject. Not exactly a good sample size to determine the viability of the project. Take that into account alongside the fact that several of the top leaders in Hydra were always more willing to explore the arcane than modern science, it’s exactly the kind of thing they would find irresistibly appealing.” She looks at Sam squarely. “All the more reason to make sure that we shut them down, before they even get close to trying to recreate with someone else what that demon succeeded to do with you.”

There’s a very brief twitch to May’s features when Sam mentions his dad, though she doesn’t comment otherwise. She remembers Dean saying that Sam did not get along well with the eldest Winchester, so she’s not about to stir up that shitstorm if she can possibly avoid it.

Sam Winchester has posed:
Sam does not yet know that his father is in town. It shows on his face, in the way that he talks about him, like he’s a distant problem, and one that Dean is imminently more concerned about than he is. Sam is concerned about John’s whereabouts out of some distant sense of obligation…

...one that is sure to be shattered as soon as he learns the full truth about John’s own plans, which are no less terrible and dark than Azazel’s or Hydra’s, when one gets right down to it.

But today is not that day. Today, Sam says, “Well, I’ve been assuming that eventually they’ll try for a recapture.”

Wrong again. In fact, in just two short days Sammy will learn that Hydra wanted him ‘released into the wild’ so to speak, a revelation that will chill him to his bones. And one that he’ll report with certain bewilderment. Report, too, that Barnes said that they had been instructed to offer no “significant” resistance. Just enough to make it look convincing.

“But I haven’t even seen attempts to shadow me, to be honest. Then again I’ve been doing very little more than patrolling the area around Mercy’s garage, looking for groups that might be sent to recover the Winter Soldier. She’s got him well secured, by the way. She welded him in place.”

Melinda May has posed:
“It’s almost a given that they will. But when they do, you know we’ll be prepared.” If Sam thinks that May is vicious when getting back civilians (or non-SHIELD agents) from evil types, he has yet to see how she is about recovering full-fledged SHIELD people.

She shakes her head a bit as he says he hasn’t seen anyone shadowing him. “That doesn’t necessarily mean anything. I can track you across Manhattan from right here if I needed to, and that’s just technology. What else could Hydra possibly have at their disposal by this point?” Like, say, scrying bowls, or powerful telepaths, or a roach with a miniature camera glued to its back.

Welded? That’s … certainly a novel way to deal with a metal-armed assassin. “She doesn’t plan on keeping him that way, I hope.”

Sam Winchester has posed:
“No. Liam has-- well. A magic something to help him recover his memories. I think it will work,” Sam says quietly. “We sure hope so anyway.”

Full-fledged SHIELD agent. The whole thing is so foreign to his experiences, but he likes it. “I guess,” he adds, sheepishly, “that I’ll maybe type you up a preliminary report before I leave here today. And...an after-action report when it’s done.”

He pauses thoughtfully. “Will I need to plan on attending any formal training? Or will you be throwing me right into it?” As if Sam wouldn’t pretty much continue throwing himself right into it. As if they don’t both know that.

But he /wants/ to make the effort to do things right, even if it’s probably going to take a lot of retraining and rewiring to get him there. He still has bits of his old life tugging on him.

Can’t be worse than Natasha, right? Can’t be harder to deal with than Barton. Can’t be harder, for that matter, to deal with than Tony Stark. SHIELD’s good at eccentric personalities, weird upbringings, strange tendencies, quirks.

Melinda May has posed:
Oh, that’s right. Liam. May nods at that. The British sorcerer has proven to be very willing to help, though she still finds herself wondering about his motivations from time to time. “I’ll do what I can to be there for that.”

“I won’t ever say no to someone helping with the reports and paperwork.” Holy cats, was that a hint of humor there? … naw, can’t be.

“Formal training, well, for some things probably. Certainly not weapons or hand to hand training. We’ll run you through the usual proficiency evaluations to see where you stand on everything. If your scores meet or exceed our usual agent qualification evals, then you won’t have to do the training.” She suspects, though, it’s not the physical evals that he’s going to struggle with. It’s the less tangible ones.

At least she knows their training staff can handle anything he tries to throw at them. After all, they’ve survived Barton. And Morse. And they are somehow not completely fed up with Lewis. Yet.