Disclaimer : No ownership of the Supernatural characters, the rest are mine.
Some love too little, some too long,
Some sell, and others buy;
Some do the deed with many tears,
And some without a sigh:
For each man kills the thing he loves,
Yet each man does not die.
- - - -Oscar Wilde "The Ballad of Reading Gaol"
Prologue
The dark haired girl shifted to the window. She was waiting. She knew he was coming, her pendant would work, after all it was the real stuff. She noticed that her wrist is still bleeding from the cut she inflicted earlier. Ignoring it, she just moved closer to the window, waiting…
She knew he was here, before the creature spoke. She supposed that was the right way to address it, a creature, not quite a person.
"You had some guts, calling me." A gruff voice, she saw a burly man in construction worker's clothes.
She smiled. "I have nothing to be afraid of…" It was true, she wasn't afraid. Not after everything she had been through… and learned.
He moved a lot closer to her, almost menacingly, with his huge form towering over her slight figure.
"I have a deal for you." She did not even flinch at his closeness, although there was a look of concealed disgust on her face.
"What makes you think that you have anything I would be interested in?" He leered at her, eyeing her.
"You want me…" She looked steadily at him "Don't you?"
"You little…" he began, but change his tone. "You have guts, I give you that. Now what do you want?"
She told him.
He smirked. "It is always the same, isn't it? Fine, I would give you that. And in return, you have to give me something."
"I will give you the child." She answered without hesitation.
"No remorse. I see…"
"I don't care, I only want one thing. And you would have what you want."
He leaned in and grabbed her, planting his lips on hers, sealing the deal.
"By the way" She leaned into him before pulling away "You might want to swing by the town, there's this family you might be interested in… they are hunters."
Thirty-two years later
John Winchester frowned. He had looked over the birth records many times. Each time, he had formed the same conclusion. There were similarities in the particular one he was holding in his hand with the others, but there was something missing. No reports of fire. It would appear that there was exception to the rules in the pattern. Or something made this one child special, different from the others, and Sam.
He heard his phone beep, another message. Dean. He wasn't going to check his phone, or called his son. It wasn't safe, not anymore since he was getting so close to the trail of the thing he had hunted for so long. He sighed, Dean would have rushed to his side if he had knew what he was up to, putting both of them in danger. He could only trust that his son would be safer where he was, far away from him. Soon… he thought grimly… soon he would be able to end it all.