Hi people! Soooo this is my first Supernatural fic EVER and I'm very nervous about it, but I figured that because it's finished I was just gonna upload it. By the way, I was in a dark mood when I wrote this. Go angsty or go home or something. Enjoy. R&R!
Disclaimer:"Supernatural" and all related logos, titles and characters are trademarks of the CW. I own nothing. Eric Kripke is the brilliant creator of this awesome show.
The year is 2016.
The Earth is a ravage. Cities are broken and deserted, the land is dry and dead. Humanity is only a tenth of what it used to be, the ones who managed to survive the genocide trying to rebuilt what has been lost. A futile attempt of course, but there's not much else they can do.
Heaven is closed completely. Only the brightest souls find their way through to peace and serenity, the rest of them gets doomed for eternity to Hell.
And Hell… Hell is flourishing like never before. The dark halls are broken down, and it's burning in its eternity. The new King loves heat. The hotter the better, no temperature beneath dessert temperature. There are bones everywhere and hellhounds roam around, lurking from dark corners and hopeless places. It's a near bottomless pit, burning with the intensity of a thousand suns, chains flung across the space to make rakes for souls. The deeper you get, the brighter the flames get, fed by the proximity to the core.
There're two thrones, standing at the bottom of the pit. Two thrones made from copper, dripping from blood and sweat and tears. It's not Lucifer who rules though, not Crowley, not any of the big demons you ever heard the names of. It's of the ones who strike fear into those who used to be above and beneath them. It's two brothers, twisted beyond recognition, formed out of tragedy and pain.
It's the Winchesters; The Boy King and the Knight of Hell.
They were never meant to be rulers, but there's only so many people can go through before they break. And those boys have been broken beyond repair.
It's what happens when the ones with power don't think about the consequences of their actions. They should have seen it coming. Because when all you ever find in life is pain and sadness, complots, evil and betrayal, there isn't much needed to push someone over the edge. Beyond the point of return.
They should really have thought about Earthly rules. Because after all: You can't break something down to pieces, mess with it, play with it, take it apart and drag it through the dirt and then expect it to work like clockwork. You can't expect it to be controllable anymore.
They were meant to start the Apocalypse, and they were meant to finish it. And in a way they did, moved along the board like good little chess pieces. Everything they touched burned, everything they build crashed. Everyone they loved died. Before their eyes, bloody, because of their actions. Undeniable and irreversible. Again and again, until they expected nothing else anymore.
The Hunter Community pulled their hands off them years and years ago, afraid to be the next ones to get killed, tortured, blamed. It was another stupid decision, only confirming to the Winchester Brothers that they were all alone in this game and that everybody was out to get them. Soon it didn't matter anymore that people died in heaps around them, as long as they got their revenge on those that wronged them.
They only had each other, and codependency got reinvented by those brothers. Then things spiraled down again, started by another Angel who thought they would play their parts. They didn't. Dean Winchester got a hold of the Mark of Cain, killed the last Knight of Hell with his bare hands and then slaughtered Cain in another round. The Angel who started it thought himself the winner, and murdered Dean Winchester in triumph.
He didn't get to enjoy that triumph for more than a few minutes before Sam Winchester threw himself on him, flashed an Archangels Blade and ended his eternal life in a blast.
But the Mark didn't let go and Dean came back, soul finally twisted beyond return, black and broken and evil to the bone. Crowley tried to control him, but a Knight of Hell doesn't listen to a salesman and that was the start of a murder spree across the continent.
In retrospect, an abomination born to lead an army of demons and rule Hell with demon blood pumping through his veins wasn't meant to go down in a fight against a single demon, no matter how powerful. Like the death of his brother stirred Sam on the Highway to Hell years ago, it did it again this time. Addicted to demon blood, to power sizzling under his skin, Sam Winchester did not waste time when Dean Winchester died. While Hunters died everywhere around the globe and innocent citizens had nowhere to turn, Sam gained power.
When the showdown finally began, his soul was also clad in darkness, hatred and revenge and pain on his mind. Eyes black as coal, they faced each other.
It was the beginning of the end. Because nothing had ever managed to pull them apart before, and even changes so drastically as the ones they'd been through couldn't now.
They joined forces, together once again, both done with playing the tragic heroes in a story that would only end in blood. They changed the rules before, it didn't take much to throw the balance over once again.
Hell shuddered for their power, Heaven fled the scene, Earth burned and Purgatory opened its doors once again. They took over everything within reach. Earth, Purgatory, Hell. All under their command. Every demon kneeled for them, every monster swore them loyalty out of sheer terror, humans cowered away before them. Hunters got wiped off the planet.
Their family, their friends all died years ago, nobody who knew them from before was left except for themselves.
The tame Hell Crowley built got broken down, changed into the reckless, hopeless state the brother knew it as from past experiences. Places of power where high-level demons used to rule got wiped out. Special racks designed for their most hated enemies who made it to Hell were put behind the thrones for Dean to play with. For Sam to insanely laugh at as they screamed and begged and cried for mercy.
The lowest level of Hell got wiped out decades after they took over the rule. The cage which still held two Archangels got smashed to pieces by them, Lucifer and Michael taken on by their vessels before they had a change to progress what was going on. It was over before it started and Heaven shook under the permanent loss of their oldest and most powerful brothers. Nothing could stop the brothers now.
The burning core of the pit became their home, shaped into a horror version of the places they had known and lived when they were young and good and human. Rock Music got a whole new meaning as the 'music of the Devil'. The Highway to Hell became as real as every other ghost-story the boys had hunted years ago. And they laugh and grin and drag more souls down, sneer at the demons below them, remind everything on their path why they're the things monsters have nightmares of, why demons hate to stay in Hell, why Angels don't dare to set a foot into their territory.
Sam and Dean Winchester. Sons of John Winchester and Mary Campbell, the last of their lines of the Men of Letters and Hunters. The last in the line of Cain.
Azazel's Son and Allister's 1# Pupil. Lucifer's and Michael's vessels. The Abomination and the Soldier. The Boy King and his Knight. Hell's Rulers.
Surely, they must have seen this coming.
After all, they were the ones who shaped them into this. And they're the ones to pay the price.