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——— excerpt by carver edlund ———
LET'S START FROM THE BEGINNING. Perhaps the very beginning. When the universe was still young and the Earth was still new. Or perhaps I'll just start a lot later than that. Like a billion years later than that. (Give me a break it's still the first draft!).
In every story, there is a hero, and there is a villain. But in this story it's a little more complex than that. In this, a hero may not necessarily be a hero, and a villain well, he might just be doing his job, so it doesn't make him evil, just misunderstood. Heroes don't wear capes in this story, because as Sam taught us, capes don't mean you can fly. And villains don't always sit there stroking a white cat saying they've been expecting you, most just skip the introductions and go straight to killing and maiming.
In this story, the first monster the Winchester brothers were exposed to destroyed their lives. Killing their Mother and leaving their Father damaged beyond repair. All Sam and Dean had growing up was each other, and Sully, but Dean wasn't too convinced about the imaginary friend Sam walked around with. But one day that all changed.
It all happened one stormy night, the lights of the motel they were stuck in were overly bright and sore to the eyes. Little Sammy could hardly get comfortable on the bed he'd claimed when they first arrived a week prior, desperately trying to get some sleep. The poor kid was only nine.
Meanwhile, Dean, who was still newly fourteen, sat on the couch, watching some Looney Toons that ran on the TV all night. He kept his laughing to a minimum so he didn't disturb his little brother, but he was enjoying his time there. Just sitting, eating candy, his second can of root beer in hand. He knew his teeth would ache come morning but that night he didn't care.
His Dad was due back any day, which meant he would get to hear all about the monsters his hero of a Dad cut down and all the towns he'd saved in the process. So he'd planned to stay up late everyday for the entire week so he didn't miss the sweet sound the Impala made when it slowed down to stop. Or the familiar noise of the car door opening and shutting, or his Dad's footsteps which he'd remembered the sound of since he was a little kid.
He wasn't going to miss seeing his Dad walk through that door. Because he needed to know he was there, actually there with them, not in his mind, not in a dream, actually standing there. He needed to know his Dad wasn't invisible. Needed to know he wasn't Dean's own Sully.
Another hour went past. It was close to midnight. Sam's light snores could be heard as he slept on top of the comforter. Dean cleared up the empty cans and disarray of empty candy and chocolate wrappers. Making sure not a crumb was in sight.
Preparing to go to bed himself, he made sure to cover his brother up, pulling off his shoes for him then slightly nudging him so he could be underneath the covers. Luckily kid Sam was a much heavier sleeper, and lighter in weight too. He went back over to the TV and made sure the light was off so he knew the TV itself was turned off, and went over to the kitchen and washed up two glasses. Deciding it was best to leave the other stuff for the next morning.
