A New Kind of Life (A Supernatural Fan Fiction)

The New Father

Sam's POV

 

 

I heard an engine starting from outside. I knew that sound. The Impala. But there was nobody there that could start my brother's pride and joy. The keys were sitting in Dean's room with his body, because I knew that he'd want to be able to have them, even though it was stupid. I was still sitting next to Castiel, neither of us talking or touching, just sitting there. We had nothing else to do. Cas was dying. Dean was dead. I had nothing. So we just sat there and waited for the world to start moving around us again. But without Dean, I wasn't sure if the world was ever going to start turning again. We were frozen in that moment.

I cursed and stood up, confused by the sound of the engine. I hurried toward the shattered window, stepping on broken glass but ignoring it. I could see the Impala speeding off, disappearing onto the highway. I couldn't see who was sitting in the driver's seat, but I did catch a glimpse of who was sitting in the passenger's seat, my seat, the seat that I always sat in. 

Crowley.

I couldn't see him well, but I knew it was him. I could see him, this weird smirk crossed over his lips as he spoke to whoever was in the driver's seat. Probably making one of those dumb, witty remarks that he was so famous for. He was sitting in my car. He was sitting in my seat, the seat where I'd have endless conversations with Dean, about important things and dumb things. That seat was where I'd cry over Jess because I still loved her but nobody knew except for Dean. That seat is where I grew up. It was my seat. The seat where I lived. It was my home. And Crowley was intruding. 

Words could not describe my extreme anger and rage that filled with me. It was this burning hatred that I couldn't explain. First I lose my brother to the Mark of Cain. Then I watch him die. Now the person I have hated for years, was stealing my car. My brother's car. The car where I grew up, the car that brought me back and let me win against Satan. Crowley couldn't just steal it... But why was he taking it?

I wanted to scream. Crowley was stealing my brother's car. Crowley was sitting in my seat, talking to someone like he wasn't sitting in my seat. But he wasn't driving it. Who was in the front seat? Who had the keys? Who had done this? I wasn't sure what was going on, but by now, I was halfway down the hall, Castiel hurrying along behind me, asking me what I was doing, what was going on. I kept walking, not sure where I was going but instead just following my gut.

"Sam, what are you doing?" Cas's gruff voice inquired.

Before I could answer, I was standing in Dean's bedroom. His enormous headphones were sitting on the nightstand, the headphones that blared classic rock on a regular basis because that was all that Dean would listen to. He was still trying to be like Dad, but he didn't realize it now. His bed was made, sheets wrinkled and stained with Dean's blood. It looked just like always.

There was nothing out of the ordinary. Nothing was odd. But the normalcy was what scared me. It made my breath catch in my throat and my hands ball up in fists. I could feel Castiel's standing just behind me, hear him muttering, trying to get something out. He was stuttering, like he couldn't get anything to come out. But I couldn't hear him. It was like my head was submerged underwater, drowning me.

"Dean..." Castiel whispered.

That was all that I could think too. Dean. Dean. Dean. The eerie normalcy just made me want to scream. It was Crowley. Or the Mark. Or Metatron, or the angels, or someone who simply wanted to get back at us. The whole room was utterly normal and silent except for my own heavy breathing, breathing so heavily that I was panting by now. It was completely normal, the whole room, except that it was not normal, not at all. It was quiet and silent and average.