Only You

Dark

Dean had read about demons in R.S. in school. Hell, he had overheard his father talking to himself about when a demon was inside someone they usually black-out and don't remember anything. Dean had thought his dad was either crazy or speaking in metaphors, because up until a couple of hours ago, yes Dean had known about the things that went bump in the night, but he had never known about demons. But, Dean was not so lucky. He felt his body move, he could see out of his own two eyes.

But he had no control.

 And he hated it. It was like watching a movie through someone else's eyes, and it terrified Dean. He could feel the demon rooting around in his head, reading all his thoughts, memories and feelings. Shit. Dean couldn't let him see the way he felt about one certain angel who was staring at him with horrified eyes only metres away. He concentrated hard, imagining all his 'Cas' thoughts behind a locked door. But the demon seemed to have found the key. He ripped the door open and gasped as the pure, true love hit him like a brick wall. Cas' balance was non-existent, but he scrambled to get back to his family, who, all but Lucifer, stood over him protectively. Luci himself was walking over to Dean. He looked straight into Dean's forest green eyes.

"Hey, Dean-o. I know you can hear me, because that's how I want it. I want you to feel it when you rip little Sammy's throat out. And I want you to feel it when you twist Cassie's wings and the already mutilated bones break even more. I need you to feel it. I kept my promise. You got to say goodbye to Cassie over there. I said I wouldn't hurt them, and I won't. You will. Now scram, before John gets to finish his exorcism." The demon did as it was told.

Dean didn't know where they were, they had just appeared in a child's playground. A voice that sounded scarily like his own started to speak.

"Dean Winchester, we are going to have so much fun." it said with a massive smirk. Dean seriously doubted that. "Oh, lighten up. What has your family ever done for you, like, ever. You're the one that keeps it all running smooth. And what do you get in return?" Dean had an answer to that.

All I get is the unconditional love from my awesome, dorky little brother. And that's all I need. He thought to himself, smiling. Well, he would be smiling if he could, you know, control his own lips, anyway, the demon smiled for him.

"I had a little brother once. Do you know what I did?"

No.

"I ate him."

... Of course you did.

"Yep. Do you know why? Because I was cutting out my only weakness. Now you're going to shut up, and watch as we slaughter the people who mean the most to you." Dean couldn't think, but he could feel. He could watch. He could remember. "Now, Mister Winchester. We are going to bide our time. Castiel's wings are gonna take at least a year to heal, so that's good news for us. Little Sammy on the other hand, well, his big brother, his hero, has now gone missing. John knows why and he'll tell Sam to stay inside. But Sam is stubborn. He'll come out and look for you. We just need to get him alone and bam. One dead Sammy. This is going to be so much fun..." It said again.

Back at the Novak's house, Cas was unconscious. He was having the weirdest dream.

A tall man with high cheek bones stood up and buttoned his suit jacket. He looked slightly worried but he had a cold, calculating expression. Castiel knew this hadn't happened yet.

"I never liked riddles." He said. He spoke with a calming British accent. Another man, slightly shorter than the first although around the same age, stood.

"Learn to. Because I owe you a fall, Sherlock. I. O. U." This voice was thick with an Irish accent, even though he sounded calm and quiet, Castiel could tell that there was something sinister hidden behind the boy's words.

But the dream changed. Like the last dream, this hadn't happened.

A young, crying woman with flaming red hair was stood up, hands on the table expectantly. It was obviously her wedding, and Castiel didn't understand why she was crying. He thought weddings were supposed to be happy events. Everything in the room was shaking, as if something large and airborne was coming into land. A young man sat next to her, probably the groom. She said,

"I found you. I found you with words, like you knew I would, that's why you told me the story. The brand new ancient blue box. Oh clever, very clever." The groom spoke,

"Amy, what is it?!" 'Amy' just smiled.

"Something old. Something new. Something borrowed... Something blue." A loud noise filled the venue, something like, weeeeeeeeaaaaaaaaaa dun dun weeeeeeeeeeeeaaaaaaaaaaa. Castiel, master of description, as always. Then, out of nowhere a big police phone box appeared. The groom spoke again, this time with awe,

"It's the Doctor..."

The dream changed again. But this time, oh this time, Castiel recognised it. He didn't know why or how, like the last dreams this was definitely in the future. But he knew.

On April 21, 1967, the 100 millionth GM vehicle rolled off the line at the plant in Janesville – a blue two-door Caprice.

There was a big ceremony, speeches. The lieutenant governor even showed up. Three days later, another car rolled off that same line. No one gave two craps about her. But they should have, because this 1967 Chevrolet Impala would turn out to be the most important car – no, the most important object – in pretty much the whole universe.

She was first owned by Sal Moriarty, an alcoholic with two ex-wives and three blocked arteries. On weekends, he'd drive around giving Bibles to the poor "gettin' folks right for Judgment Day." That's what he said. Sam and Dean don't know any of this, but if they did, I bet they'd smile.

After Sal died, she ended up at Rainbow Motors, a used-car lot in Lawrence, where a young marine bought her on impulse. That is, after a little advice from a friend. I guess that's where this story begins.

The Impala, of course, has all the things other cars have... and a few things they don't. But none of that stuff's important. This is the stuff that's important. The army man that Sam crammed in the ashtray – it's still stuck there. The Legos that Dean shoved into the vents – to this day, heat comes on and they can hear 'em rattle. These are the things that make the car theirs – really theirs. Even when Dean rebuilt her from the ground up, he made sure all these little things stayed, 'cause it's the blemishes that make her beautiful. The Devil doesn't know or care what kind of car the boys drive.

In between jobs, Sam and Dean would sometimes get a day – sometimes a week, if they were lucky. They'd pass the time lining their pockets. Sam used to insist on honest work, but now he hustles pool, like his brother. They could go anywhere and do anything. They drove 1,000 miles for an Ozzy show, two days for a Jayhawks game. And when it was clear, they'd park her in the middle of nowhere, sit on the hood, and watch the stars... for hours... without saying a word. It never occurred to them that, sure, maybe they never really had a roof and four walls...

...but they were never, in fact, homeless.

Cas woke with a start. What was that? Who were those people? He didn't know, but he did know that they were very important. As an Angel, he could remember everything that happened in his dream. He could remember the names of those people, and what they looked like. He couldn't think about anything else, however, because that's when the pain hit him. He hissed as he realised that he still had that poison running through his veins, he was overloading with energy, there was to much for him to contain. It was destroying his true form. He had to get out and do something. Then he felt another stab of pain, this time through his back. His wings. Cas couldn't fly. He felt panic surge through him, he was stranded. And what had happened to Dean? Where was he? What did Lucifer mean? Castiel was very confused, and in a lot of pain. So he decided the best thing for him now was sleep. And that's exactly what he did.