Note: This story is being Co-Written by AmandaCanzo and MoiraiFata and was based on this supernatural video /watch?v=Kiv2c0PrxpY
Dean always takes everything Mary tells him to heart, believing that his mom would never lie to him. This is why he believes her when she tells him that angels are watching over him every night. What his mom says is always the truth and that is what Dean will always believe.
"Dean, sweetheart, come here," Mary calls, early one morning after John has gone to work. Dean bounds over to her, climbing on her lap staring up at her with the kind of awe only a child has. "You know how I tell you about angels watching over you every night?" Dean nods. "Well it's true, they are. And soon one will come down from Heaven and become your friend."
"Really?" Dean asks excitedly. He doesn't have any friends, and as much as he loves his baby brother, Sam is no fun to play with yet. Mary smiles and nods. "When Mommy? When?" Dean whines hoping it's soon.
"Soon, love," she soothes, running a hand through Dean's hair. "Let's go see if Sammy's awake," she suggests, picking him up and going upstairs to the nursery. Dean struggles out of Mary's arms and runs over to Sam's crib. She doesn't quite know what to expect, but she hopes this time they get it right. The future of her family depends on it.
"Hi Sammy," Dean whispers, poking his hand through the bars of the crib to hold Sam's tiny hand. Mary reaches down and pulling Sam into her arms. Dean grins, scrambling over to the rocking chair. As soon as he's sitting, Mary places Sam in Dean's arms. Sam begins to cry almost immediately. "Don't worry, Sammy, I'll take care of you," Dean promises, rocking the chair. Sam stops crying, looking up at Dean. "That's right, nothing's gonna hurt you while I'm around," Dean says with a smile. Sam yawns, shutting his eyes and falling asleep in Dean's arms.
"Angels are indeed watching over you, Dean Winchester." Zachariah whispers, with an expression that didn't totally signify good intent. "We are always watching."
Something evil was brewing and it all revolves around those Winchester boys. Zachariah can see that the love that can only be found between siblings was strong with these two. Too bad for them, they were about to be caught between the crossfires of Heaven and Hell, the kind of fight where brother might turn against brother, husband and wife might find each other on opposing sides and the most loyal of souls become the greatest of traitors.
This moment was a millennia in the making; every breath, every birth and death, every heartbreak and compromise has been planned for this very point in time, for these special little boys. And if he gets it right...who knows, there might be a promotion or two in his future. But that all depended on Castiel. The very name of that foolish angel made him feel nauseous. He fought tooth and nail to get someone a little more competent as Dean's angel, but the higher ups insisted upon it. Something about the heart of the angel being something Dean would relate to. Either way he doesn't care, and as long as that little freak didn't get in his way, it should all go exactly as planned.
'Speaking of,' he thinks to himself. "Where is Castiel?" As if on cue, the angel in question came strolling in, as if he had all the time in the world.
"Zachariah," he says.
Zachariah narrows his eyes, wondering once again why on Earth they would pick someone with such an odd disposition as Castiel had. But he knows this was not the time to question it. There are a lot of things they have to set in motion and not a lot of time in which to do it.
"I assume you've been briefed on your task." He waits for Castiel to give him a sign of acknowledgement before continuing. "Good, then you know what's expected of you. You know the rules, Castiel; go down there, keep him safe, make sure he does exactly what we want him to, all while keeping a close eye on that brother of his. Do we understand each other?"
"Yes," Castiel complies, nodding once more.
"Good. Now I'll also assume you know about the vessel you need to obtain. His name is Jimmy Novak, he is four years old and his current location is a tiny hospital in Pontiac, Illinois. You have to find him and get his permission to use him as a vessel."
"Yes, Zachariah."
Zachariah smiles to himself. Hopefully this strange little angel was as good at following orders as he was saying yes.
"Well Castiel," he continues. "That's all I have for you today. Keep tuned into angel radio and wait for further instructions." He turns his back on the other angel. "Oh, and be sure not to let us down."
As Castiel walks away, Zachariah turns his attention back to the Winchester boys. Dean is gently stroking his brother's hair while he sleeps. Their mother sits watching silently, a tiny smile playing on her lips. Little did they know, their world was about to be flipped on its head. Zachariah supposes he should feel bad for them; after all, it is heavens fault that they will never have another normal day in their young lives. He should, but he doesn't. Compassion and guilt were for the weak, but for Heaven, and the angels who live here, they spoke of nothing but strength.
Castiel takes his job very seriously. In fact, there wasn't a lot he doesn't take seriously. Everyone knows of the Winchester boys. They were destined for greatness and Castiel was lucky to be the one in charge of one of them. It was a huge honor and Castiel doesn't want to mess it up. He knows he is a little different than the other angels and this is his chance to prove them wrong. Castiel locates his vessel, speaking to him in a small voice only he can hear.
"Hello Jimmy," he says. The boy gives no sign of being startled or afraid. Its as if he was expecting this, as of he was certain someone was going to take him away.
"Are you here to take me to Heaven?" Jimmy asks softly, turning in the direction of where Castiel stands.
Castiel can't help but to feel a little pity for the boy, here he was, at the beginning of his life wondering if he was going to be heading to his death.
"No, Jimmy I'm not," Castiel replies. "I am here because I need your help."
Jimmy's face wrinkles with confusion. "My help?" he asks tilting his head. "What can I help with?" he says. At four years old Jimmy knows he is dying. The nurses think he doesn't understand it being so young, but he knows his heart is failing. He knows without a transplant he wouldn't live to see five. At four Jimmy has accepted this fact. He is unsure on how he could ever be a help to someone.
"You, are something called a vessel. It is what an angel like myself needs in order to walk upon the Earth. Every angel has one specific to them and you just so happen to be mine." Castiel explains. "You are special in ways you can't even imagine Jimmy Novak. That's not something you should ever forget."
Jimmy ponders over this fact. He had never thought of himself as special. "But I'm dying," he points out quietly. He couldn't be too special if he was already failing the angel who needed his body to be here.
Castiel thought about quoting a bible verse to the boy to reassure him but he decided against it. A moment like this called for words that would be easily understood. "I can heal you, make you new. I cannot promise things will be easy, I cannot promise there will not be moments where you will be able to feel everything I can. But I can promise you this Jimmy Novak, I will do everything in my power to treat your body with the respect I would my own. I promise to honor the trust you place in me. And I promise to never forget your act of selflessness not for as long as I exist."
Jimmy nods. "I'll do it. Tell me what I have to do," he says quickly. He would do whatever it takes not to die at the young age of four. Even if that means never seeing his family again. He just didn't want to die.
"All you have to do is say yes," the angel says simply. "I just need your permission."
"Yes," Jimmy says softly, gasping as he feels this warm light wash over him. Castiel heals what is wrong with the boy's heart. It's nothing short of a miracle. It was an easy feat, performing the task was as effortless as a human drinking water. But for this boy who had spent his short lifetime with a body that was slowly betraying him, it was everything.
Even though he was not to be impervious to human emotion, he could not help but to feel something. He doesn't know how to describe it exactly, but it feels like flying. It feels as if he was lighter than air. He has done good acts in the past, helping those in need. But this time, it feels important, this time it feels as though he has accomplished something real. He watches as the pain and suffering roll off the child's shoulders, and tears of joy fall from the young boy's eyes. This is the last act Jimmy Novak will ever perform as the master of his own body. For the first time in Castiel's long existence, he feels as if he had truly performed a miracle.
He enters the body, taking in all the new sensations. It was enough to make his head spin but he doesn't have time to get used to in now, he has a job to do.
Castiel doesn't think of Jimmy's parents, or of his sister as he rips out the IVs and pulls off all the wires he's hooked to. He heals Jimmy's body again, briefly marvelling over his now human fingers, before popping out of the hospital and reappearing at Dean's house.
Castiel knocks on the door, which is soon opened by Mary. "Hello, my name is Castiel. I'm an angel of the Lord. I was sent here to watch after your son," he greets formally. Mary laughs softly, ushering him inside.
"Angel of the Lord huh? Well, let's get you some real clothes, Castiel," she says, leading him upstairs to what he assumes is Dean's bedroom. "Good thing you two seem to be the same size," she says, laying out some clothes for him to pick from. He picks up the black jeans, a blue and white plaid shirt and gets dressed quickly. "Would you like to meet Dean?" Castiel nods, and follows Mary into a nursery.
"Mommy!" Dean yells, getting up from the floor and running over to Mary. He stops, looking at Castiel. "Who's this?"
It was like the piano being played, then stopped abruptly till all you had left was sound of the echoing notes, chilling you to your very soul. It was like finding that solitary truth that invalidated everything you have ever known. That's what meeting someone like Dean Winchester was like. Castiel could now understand why emthis/em boy, out of so many, needed protection. He was flawed and young, but he was humanity. Here in this boy was the potential to do great things the world had never seen. Of all the lifetimes Castiel had been privy to, he had never seen anything quite like it. He was curious to see what kind of man Dean would become, if he would fall short from greatness like so many before him, or if he would rise to the occasion and become a beacon for all that it is to be truly human.
"I am Castiel. I am your angel," Castiel says slowly.
Dean wrinkles his nose at Castiel and shakes his head. "I'm gonna call you Cas," Dean says with a nod, grabbing Cas' hand. "Come meet Sammy," he tells him, pulling Cas down on the ground where Sam lies gurgling on a blanket. "Sammy, this is Cas, he's my angel. Cas, this is my baby brother Sammy."
"Hello, Sammy," Castiel says seriously. Sam blinks up at him, reaching for him. Confused, Castiel tilts his head at the small child. When Sam isn't given Castiel's immediate attention, he starts to wail. "What did I do wrong?" Cas asks, looking at Dean with wide eyes.
"He wants you to hold him," Dean explains, staring at the strange boy. Cas nods and carefully reaches out to pick Sam up. Dean watches as Castiel holds his baby brother, he can't help but grin at the pure awe that passes over Cas' face.
Castiel can't believe that in all his time observing Earth and watching over the humans, he had never picked up a baby before. It was an entirely new experience, and it was almost too much for him to handle all at once. He could feel his borrowed heart swell as Sam nuzzled closer, deciding that even though there was something inherently non-human about the angel he was still worthy of his trust.
Castiel's eyes fill with unmistakable awe. If joy and purity had a scent, that is what Sam would smell like. Castiel supposes Sam would be pretty heavy for a four-year old to carry around like this, but his angelic strength made it feel as if he were holding the lightest of feathers.
The prickling sensation around his eyes grew more intense as he finally looks up at Dean and his mother. He doesn't entirely know what it all means but there is one thing he knows for sure. This is what true happiness feels like, this is the feeling humans spend entire lifetimes looking for. He doesn't think he'd ever feel that, given how he is made. This is a dangerous game he has slipped into, but if the expressions from Dean and Mary are any indication, it is well worth it.
Dean smiles at Cas. "See, you can be his angel too, Cas," Dean says proudly. Mary watches all of this with a proud smile on her face before turning away to to get back to her sewing. She has spent many years and a tremendous amount of energy keeping the supernatural from her family, but there was something about the odd little angel - something that spoke of great humanity. He may still be awkward, may still be getting used to the nuances of human life, but she has a feeling it won't stay that way for long.
He has had his eye on those Winchesters for the longest time. Every since he met that fiery young thing back in 1972, he has developed what some might call a slight obsession with her and her family. They are important, he can feel it in his soul... if he still had one. The product of the bond between Mary Campbell and John Winchester would be one to rock the history books for a long time, he just knows it. And what was even better was that those rats with wings up in heaven think they can protect those boys with a sub-par angel.
He would love nothing more than to strip that idiot's wings feather by feather as slowly and as painfully as he possibly can, then ship that box of feathers right to those pearly gates just to prove a point. But the time for torture and mayhem was not today; he has to stand his ground and wait patiently in the shadows. His time would come, and the angels will suffer. He would make sure of that.
He stands outside the Winchester's home, silently watching from the shadows. He could see Mary, as beautiful as ever, yelling at her oldest to wash up for dinner, he could see John, tired from a long day's work, sipping on a beer and watching the baseball game.
He could see Sammy.
Sam, the chosen one, the key to making everything possible. That little ball of bouncing fat and bones was his ticket to hell on Earth. He had never seen so much potential, so much raw power and evil as he did in this boy. If he could only slip in and take him now, he would raise him as a true Prince of Hell, as opposed to the weak, sickly, filthy human his parents would bring him up to be. But he couldn't, and he knew that, but that wouldn't stop him from having some fun first.
He slowly walks up to the door, scoffing at the flowers that line the walkway, until he stood at the doorway. His lips pull into a slight smile as he rang the doorbell and waits for Mary to show up like he knew she would.
Mary mindlessly swings open the door, a smile on her lips and a sparkle in her eyes. She is bouncing Sam on her hip and telling Dean that if he didn't get to the table she would feed his helping of pie to his father. She finally turns her face towards to the open door. Her eyes flicker in brief recognition but she gives no sign that she remembers him. Of course she wouldn't; he is using a different meat suit after all. But even with a different face, one doesn't easily forget the imprint of the being that took everything from you.
"Hi, can I help you?" Mary says her smile dulling a bit at the leering smile he was giving her.
"Yes," he replies, "I'm here to deliver a message for Mary Winchester." She nods for him to continue. He raises hand to wipe a piece of food that had stuck to Sam's face, leans in and whispers in her ear.
"The angels may be watching over you and your boys, Mrs. Winchester, but never forget, so are we." As her face begins to pale, and her eyes wider than a dollar coin, he can hardly contain a grin. She could do nothing more than sputter as she watches him walk away and disappear into the night.
He was known by many names, some of them forgotten, some of them changed, but for John and the boys he would be known by nothing more than the demon that took Mary away. To them, he would be Yellow Eyes.
Dean likes Castiel, even though the angel is the weirdest person that Dean has ever met. It wasn't like Dean had met a lot of people at the age of four but either way, Cas would still be the weirdest. Dean's not exactly sure what Castiel is supposed to be protecting him from, but it's nice having a friend to play with.
"Dean, I don't understand. There is nothing there. What is the point of this game?" Castiel complains one day as they play in Dean's room.
Dean sighs heavily. "I told you, we're playing pretend. That's what pretend is, you gotta use your... imagination," Dean says struggling over the big word. Castiel sits down next to Dean crossing his arms.
"This is boring, Dean. Can't we play something else?" Castiel whines. Lately, Cas has realized he's becoming more and more like his vessel's age and less like the Angel of the Lord that he truly is.
Dean sighs again. He may like Castiel, but he sure is annoying when it comes to playing. "You never like any of the games we play!" Dean points out, getting up off the floor and flopping on the bed. "What is it you want to do?"
Thinking, Castiel tilts his head. Part of him wants to go back to playing pretend, but he just can't seem to wrap his mind around the concept. He has a hard time pretending that something is there when it's clearly not. These games makes Dean happy, however although he may look it, he just doesn't have the four year old mind Dean does. Dean has tons of toys that Mary and John have bought for him, but none of them interest Castiel. "I want to read," Cas decides finally.
Dean groans. "Reading is so boring, Cas!" Dean whines, pouting. Castiel sighs, Dean is his charge, his responsibility is to make Dean happy... even if that apparently means pretending things are there when they aren't.
"Okay, we can go back to playing pretend," Cas says softly. He smiles when Dean jumps out of bed running over to Cas and hugging him tightly. Cas is shocked for a moment before he wraps his arms around Dean, and soaks in the feeling of being loved.
The boys are so engrossed in playing pretend that they don't even notice when Dean's mother comes walking in.
'Dean and his angel make a lovely scene.' she thinks quietly to herself. She's never seen Dean so full of joy before. Sure he has had his share of playmates, but there was something slightly different about this one. It was like they understood each other on a level no one could possibly understand. There was a true friendship between these two boys, nothing like she has seen in a very long time. Not since-She pushes the thought out of her mind. That wasn't something worth remembering now.
There was no doubt in her mind that Castiel would do anything in his power to protect her son, just like she was sure that if Dean could do the same if he could.
"Who want's to help mommy make a pie?" She calls, laughing when Deans tiny body shakes with pure excitement at the word pie.
"I do, I do!" Dean screams, grabbing the startled angel by the hand and yanking him towards the kitchen. Mary is only seconds behind them but already Dean has taken a handful of flour and is shoving it in Castiel's face, laughing maniacally as he coughs and sputters.
"Dean!" he yells, surprising both himself and the boy. He never raises his voice, always speaking as if he lived in a library.
"Dean," Mary scolds, tapping Dean on the shoulder. "Say sorry to Cas."
Dean looks down, tiny hands twisting behind his back, foot grounding into the ground in shame. "Sorry Castiel." he whispers, pouting.
"Good," Cas responds. "You should be." He then proceeds to crack an egg on the young boy's head. Laughing slightly as Dean looks up at him in horror. "Did I do well, Mary?" he asks hopefully.
"Yes, Cas," she says shaking her head at the boys. "You did very well." They spend the rest of the afternoon making apple pies and occasionally throwing food at each other. She knows she going to have hell to pay when John comes home and sees the state of their kitchen but she doesn't care. Life is messy, might as well have some fun with it.
She sits the boys at the table, serving them the pie pops she had created alongside the bigger ones. "Now stay here, eat your pie and please, no more throwing food." She figures she could trust them long enough to go check up on Sammy, and even if she couldn't she would just threaten them with no pie for the rest of their natural lives.
Sam is just beginning to wake up, cranky and in need of a good changing. She wraps her youngest in her arms and sits in the rocking chair. She loves these moments with Sam, they were always quiet and sweet. He would coo and she would sing and they could just rock together, a mother and her baby.
"Hey Jude, don't make it bad," she sings softly. "Take a sad song and make it better. Remember to let her into your heart, then you can start to make it better."
In these moments it's just her and Sam against the world, so she doesn't notice when Castiel quietly slips besides them.
"You have a lovely voice, Mary," he whispers, not wanting to disturb them too much. She smiles slightly.
"Thank you, Castiel." They continue to stay like that for a while, Sammy gurgling, Mary singing, and Cas, watching so still Mary could have sworn he turned into stone.
"What exactly are you doing here?" she says suddenly. "You never actually told me. What are you here to protect my boys from?"
"I'm not entirely sure," Cas says truthfully. "All I know is that it's my duty to protect you and your family. And even if it wasn't, I would still do it." He looks earnestly into her eyes. "Your family means everything to me, I would go to the ends of the Earth for you."
She doesn't doubt that for a second, but it still makes her sad. Castiel's eyes spoke of infinite wisdom and truth. She was sure he had seen the beginning of time and would be there for the end of it. His eyes, as bright as they were, also spoke of ancient sadness and loneliness. Even though she knew that he had lived longer than she cared to know, the vessel he was inhabiting was so young, and she couldn't, in good conscious watch someone so young risk it all for her. She couldn't watch as he carried the weight of the world on his tiny shoulders.
"I know what you are thinking Mary," he says sadly. "I would prefer it if you didn't worry about me. This is my job, this is what I was created to do. I know it is hard to see past my vessel, but you are going to have to for this to work. I won't be this small for long, just like any other child, this vessel with grow with time."
"I know that," she begins. "It's just-"
"Stop," Castiel says, laying a hand on her shoulders. "I will make sure no harm comes to you, I can promise you that." She sighs, coinciding.
"Okay Castiel, my life is in your hands."
The moment is over and she, Sam and Cas go to the kitchen where they find that Dean has managed to eat all the pie pops in one sitting. As Mary scolds Dean, Sam watches over the scene happily, and Cas tunes into angel radio, as he always does when he has a free moment. Zachariah is telling him to come in for a report as soon as the Winchesters go to sleep. Apparently, they had it on good authority that the next day would be quiet, and the family wouldn't need much protection.
Cas frowns, he doesn't like spending too much time away from his adopted family, but he has to do what he needs to. The frown however, quickly dissipates as Dean begins to yell at Cas for the broken egg shells that could still be found in his hair.
He has never had anything that belonged solely to him, but these moments, these Winchesters were his and he wouldn't give them up for anything.
Yellow Eyes didn't need a calendar to know what day it was. Every demon in the nine circles of Hell knew what was going down today. Amidst all the pain and fury, was an underline ripple of excitement. Today was the day everything was going to be set in motion. Today, little Sammy Winchester was turning 6 months old. Today, that little family in Lawrence, Kansas and subsequently the world, would be shaken to their very foundations.
And he couldn't wait.
It was quiet in the Winchester home. Sam and Dean had been put to bed, Mary was in her room and John was sleeping in front of the T.V. Yellow Eyes wondered briefly where what bumbling idiot Castiel, "the angel of the lord" was, but according to his sources, and he had very good sources, Castiel was indisposed in heaven, giving his report. Too far away to save his precious little charge and his family.
Yellow Eyes has one simple task; bleed into the little brat's mouth, make him more like them. No more, no less. But this particular demon saw nothing wrong with wreaking havoc if the situation called for it. As long as the other members of the Winchester household stayed out of his way for the night, they'd be safe, if not, well he was never the type to make promises.
He revels in the fact that he could move right under their noses and they wouldn't notice a thing. That was the issue with meat suits, so big and clumsy, being defeated by simple things like walls and doors. They were nothing like his true form, able to come and go as he pleased, able to slip into a baby's nursery without arousing suspicion.
Sam hadn't fully fallen asleep yet, Yellow Eyes could hear him happily gurgling from where he stands in the nursery, images of his parents and his brother flashing through his young mind. He almost hates the fact that he is about to disturb the boy. Well, he would, if there was any human left in him to actually care. He makes his way to the crib, taking his sweet time. It is almost as if he is just waiting for someone to come stop him. He is taking a risk and he knows it, but just as the silly human saying went, good things came to those who waited.
He peers into the crib, picking Sam up and bouncing him a little.
"Hello Sam." he whispers. At first Sam coos happily, just enjoying the fact that he was being picked up, but the coos slowly turned into whimpers. Even as a baby Sam could feel pure evil when presented with it. This being wasn't soft and warm like his mother, not rough yet loving like his brother, not gentle like his father. Even the boy with the blue eyes, with his otherworldly air was nothing compare to the whoever held him now. Yellow Eyes could sense the confusion swirling around Sam and figured it was high time to get on with what he came there for, before the child woke the whole house.
"Shhhh" he soothes. "It's okay Sammy, you have nothing to fear from me...much." He places the boy back into his crib, pulling out a knife and slowly dragging it across his skin, watching as the blood pools to the surface.
"Now, I want you to be a good boy Sammy, because I have a special gift for you. This will make you strong and powerful like nothing the world has ever seen before. You will be able to do things Heaven and Hell have only dreamed possible. You will carry the fate of the world in your tiny fist and you don't even know it yet." He raises his wrist above Sam's mouth, letting droplets of blood fall in.
"You are the key to everything," he continues. "A king among peasants. Remember that Sammy, remember you are so much greater than they are." He smiles, brushing the child's hair from his face. He's stalling, he knows that. But he can feel her coming closer, feel her panic rock him to his very bones. They had a story, him and Mary, and it was about time it came full circle.
The door slams open as she rushes inside, he didn't have to turn around to know who had disturbed him.
"Stay away!" she yells. "Whoever you are, get away from my son!" A snap of the fingers silences her, and a flick of of the wrist threw her against the ceiling. Her eyes were wide with fear as it dawns on her that she failed. She failed her family and the memory of her parents. As hard as she had tried, she wasn't able to keep the supernatural from ripping her life apart all over again.
"Mary, Mary, Mary." he says, pacing the room, his yellow eyes flashing. "Remember me now?" He looks up, and saw the question in her eyes. "I guess not, no matter, as of right now none of that matters. I told you Mary," he continues. "I told you, you could never escape us. I want you to know this as you die. Your sons will never be safe. Sam and Dean will never be happy again as long as I am around. Hell, as long as Heaven is still in operation, your precious little boys will never have a moment of peace. They will be hunted down and used for the rest of their natural lives. And you, Mary Winchester, with all your foresight, your caution and your salt, could have never prevented this. This was written in the stars sweetheart, you were just the sad sap that helped it all happen."
He watches as the tears flow heavily from her eyes, the truth hitting her harder then anything she could could have possibly imagined. This was her fault, by trying to protect her family she had caused them unbearable pain for years to come.
Yellow Eyes grins, raising his hand and slicing it through the air. He watches as Mary's stomach rips open, blood steadily dripping from the wound. In the crib Sam begins to cry.
"Shush now, Sammy," he soothes, pressing a kiss to Sam's forehead. "This is just the beginning of your bright future," he says, snapping his fingers so he appears invisible, save for his flashing eyes. John runs in, rushing to his baby boy trying to calm him down. He looks around the room, in confusion. He thought he heard yelling, but he couldn't be too sure. But since all seems to be well, he just looks lovingly down at his son, until he just so happens to look up.
Yellow Eyes revels in the pain and confusion that flashes in John Winchester's eyes. He makes sure John sees his eyes glowing in the darkness before he snaps his fingers once more and Mary screams as she bursts into flames. He wants his eyes to be the stuff of nightmares for John, he wants the color yellow to be a source of anguish for his family. He knows they will never have a moments peace after this day, no happiness, no security. This fact brings a smile to his lips as he quickly exits the house to watch it all unfold elsewhere.
From a distance, Yellow Eyes watches as Dean runs out holding Sam, John coming in behind them. He continues to grins as the house burns, burning the Winchester's last chance of happiness with it. As he walks away he laughs, thinking of how much fun he'll be having with Sammy later.
"This is it," He whispers into the darkness. "This is the beginning of the end."
Note: Thank you to our wonderful Betas Megan, Grace and Alaamsi. Without you, we couldn't get this thing off the ground! 3
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