*3 Months Later*
Dad still hasn't come home yet. I think I know why.
My father is trying to kill Yellow Eyes because he knows that I won't stop until he's dead. He knows what Yellow Eyes did to Sam and Mary. And a year later he did nothing to stop the same thing happening to my mom. The same thing that happened to me.
I know more than John- than my father thinks. I've been hunting my mother's killer since I could walk. I know.. that there's a part of me.. that isn't like my brothers.
Not like Dean atleast. Although Sam doesn't even realize the horrible thing pulsing through his veins.
Our veins.
My father made me promise never to tell Sam once I learned the truth.
The dreams started when I was nine. I woke up paralyzed seeing and hearing the depths of hell. I've seen Hell.
My father assumed they were nightmares because of the hunting. But the night I saw him. I knew. I knew that yellow eyes did this to me.
Since then, the image and sounds of hell remained burned in my mind. Things are beginning to change even more now.
I don't want this. I don't want to be the monsters I hunt. I'd rather die.
My head leans against the impala window. Dean's driving, Sam asleep in the passenger seat beside him. I feel partially betrayed. I've always been Dean's best friend. And I've been kicked to the back seat as soon as Sammy shows up? But I can understand.
I watched the large stretch of corn fields continue like a broken record. I try and think about all the pure wonders of the world but the tainted blood beneath my skin is the only thought that resides in my mind.
I've always been my father's soldier. Always completing his every order as if my life depended on it. Always trying to overcompensate, because part of me feels like it's... bad. But all I want is to be good. That's all I've ever wanted to be. And so far, I am. I plan to keep it that way.
Before I can kill yellow eyes, I'll keep hunting with my brothers. I'll be good and I won't let anything turn me into the monsters I hunt.
I shift my knees towards Dean and sit up. "So the Vamp Nest. What are we looking at"
Dean looks back at me, "12 minimum".
Sam wakes up to Deans gruff voice. "12 vs 3?, really Dean?"
"I like those odds" I say smirking, I make eye contact with Dean in the rear view mirror as he chuckles.
Sam rolls his eyes and goes back to sleep. I smile and look down towards my hands that rested on my jeans. My Anti- possession tattoo slightly peaking out from my hip. I graze my thumb gently over it, remembering all the people we've saved, all the good we've done.
I lean my head back onto the window when a shiver climbs up my spine as I see Sam jerk his head up in a cold sweat. "Sammy.. what's wrong."
Dean opens his mouth to speak when a large truck hits us going 50 down the long, dark empty road. As we roll and the impala screeched, my head bounces from the window to my knees.
I lay on my side, glass cutting through my jeans and blood dripping from a gash on my head to my lip. I taste the metallic but give no thought to my injuries.
I can't move. But all I can think about is Sam. He's like me, but different. I knew it. Yellow eyes was the reason I could do the things I can.
I knew I wasn't a monster. But what am I?
"I'm a hunter." I whisper to myself as the darkness slowly consumes me.
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