Look... it happens. This isn't the first planetary enema we've delivered.
-Zachariah, "Lucifer Rising"
On a nondescript planet, orbiting around two nondescript suns, in a galaxy far, far away, there is a city, and the city prospers.
The city prospers, and from the city grows a state, and from the state, a country, and from the country, a world.
From the land of deserts and oases to the mountains that touch the sky, the people of the Planet of Two Suns live in harmony together, and peace is the sole ruler, the sole value to uphold, for with peace comes everything the people need, and they live in perfect equality. It is, in a word, Utopia -the closest that can be found in any galaxy anywhere.
And then, sometime and somewhere on the Planet of the Two Suns, two brothers are born, and there is a fire, and their mother dies when they are very young. The community mourns her loss, and during this period, the father is stone-faced in silent in his grief, and his elder son refuses to speak, despite being capable of doing so.
And at some point, the three disappear, and no one knows where they go –but stories exist, stories of vigilantes and hunters, and creatures that only exist in the night.
Stories always exist, though; and like most stories, these are brushed off as entertaining falsehoods, for everyone knows that the Planet of the Two Suns is safe, and no creatures lurk in the night, certainly not the dark ones talked about in the stories -the faeries and the vampires; werewolves and goblins. They're just stories, even if they possess the power to make children and parents alike shiver in delicious fright. They tell the stories into the night, as the moon rises and falls, until the sun comes up to replace it, and day comes again, and no one knows where the stories came from, but as is the way of Paradise, no one questions the gifts they are given.
But, lies or truth, the one undeniable thing about stories is that they spread, and over time the innocent tale of two brothers and a father twists into a horror story whispered at a fire at nighttime until the listeners beg for the release of daylight, and this is not the kind of horror made to entertain: this is a story that makes people either want to cry or hide away in a brightly lit room with family and friends surrounding them, feeling loved and together, and not the terrible pain felt between the two brothers and their father.
(Though some would argue, theirs is a story of family. They know what it means, when everyone else does not.)
Regardless of the meaning drawn from them, the stories are told, in crowded homes and under clear skies, and as they grow darker, so does their world: violence soars, and the perpetrators paint themselves as victims. They swear they were possessed by demons, not responsible for their actions whatsoever, and everyone is at a loss for words. Fire falls from the skies, and the ground begins to shake regularly, and the people of the Planet of Two Suns look to the sky, and they whisper of the coming end.
(Some people whisper of the day when Utopia will rise again on the wings of the wind, but these are the few and far between, who stand calmly while the world falls, and talk to angels all around them.)
This is not a suspicious planet: it is godless, but solely in the literal sense. It has no need for gods or worship; it has people who love each other, and it has -had?- peace: and in the end, that is all that matters to them –that, and the knowledge that all things die, and no one can escape death. Death is supreme, but no one worships it.
Yet still, people talk of bad news and omens (and somewhere, somewhere out in a desert, a local, beloved town drunk writes books about two brothers who might or might not be real, and his books are terrible and laughable in their writing, but still, they send shivers through the spines of anyone who reads them).
And finally, one day, two lights shine from the sky, and when they touch the surface, the ground shatters and crumbles, and many people that day are approached by beings they didn't know existed, and they cry out, prostrate upon the ground, that indeed, their bodies are not their own, and they will lend themselves gladly to the service of a Heaven they have never heard of.
And two sons, two brothers, fight on the planet of Two Suns (and many more Sons and Daughters of Heaven stand waiting in their vessels, and some destroy the world as their entertainment –though others watch silently, and doubt flickers in their minds, as it has many times before) but it ends as it always does, in blood and in laughter, with Heaven supreme, and Hell once again with its ruler chained within a cage, screaming his murder to the sky, until the next time comes around.
(The planet of the Two Suns falls, reduced to sand and endless deserts by the hands of the Sons of Heaven; it will be many thousands of years before the first travelers come down from the stars and settle there, claiming it as their territory for their gangs, and their means: it's useless, all desert and heat, but far away from everyone -and there is no on here to claim it as their own, after all. Hundreds of years from that, the Grace left behind on the planet, torn from its owners during the War that no one remembers, finds a vessel within a young woman, who soon brings forth a child without ever having lain with a man. That child holds Grace within him strong enough to contest the angels, but instead, he will one day fight his own brothers, just as the story always goes.)
a/n: just to justify this: I've always figured that Michael and Lucifer -and therefore Sam and Dean, as the Cain and Abel figures- have always been in a struggle; it was just that Earth was though to be the place, where the final battle took place, and things went over differently than they ever had before -which they did, just not like they were supposed to.
Additionally, the title refers to Pink Floyd's "Two Suns in the Sunset."