Summary: Outsider POV on the brothers. A hunter gets some help he wasn't expecting but he can't tell if he was better off before these two showed up or not. Slight unbalanced Sam.
Author's Notes: Just something along the lines of the Winchesters and their feats being so legendary that some people aren't even sure they exist, much less what they look like. Sam's damaged from Hell in this, but when he slips, Dean keeps him grounded.
They Shined Like Gold
"It'll show." Dean told him, putting rounds into the pistol. "Few shots in the right places and we'll take it down."
"How do you know all this stuff anyway? You're younger than my kid and I taught him everything he knows. Bein' raised as hunters I get, but-"
"We're old." The younger one said, not looking up from finishing loading the gun. The shorter one eyed him a little carefully, wary. But not afraid for himself, not in the slightest. So that left… Jack huffed off the nervous shiver.
"Heh, right. Still in your twenties, maybe thirty for that one." Jack gestured to Dean. "No way you're older than me-"
The taller one was right in his face, head tilted so slightly, like Jack was a puzzle, a question that needed solving and he could pull apart the pieces and put them back together again. Jack would have sworn that there was a flash of gold in the hazel eyes.
"Sam."
Sam's eyes flickered in the direction of his partner, then back, looking completely normal.
"…We're far older than you know."
Jack didn't even blink and the kid was back over with the other one, like nothing had happened, like he'd never moved.
Very quickly, but not as fast as he would have liked, Jack understood the great and pressing need to not piss these two off. If they were who he thought they were…
Very few crossed the Winchesters and lived. None got to their bad side and came out the far end. None.
These boys were ghosts, fables, and hellions. Forged in fire and blood and put through more misery than any human had right to live through.
Heroes and killers. Saviors and destroyers.
As Jack watched, the two finished loading up on weaponry and looked at each other with not a word between them, but everything understood; a slight devil's smirk on both their lips. All the older hunter knew was that they looked…complete together.
They shined like something precious and jagged and Jack had to turn away for a minute, feeling like he was seeing something most of humanity didn't have right to lay eyes on.
When he looked back, the two were already moving out to find their quarry, walking shoulder to shoulder easily. Jack fell into step behind them, having to hustle a bit and feeling the fool for leaping to keep up when he was the senior hunter here.
The taller one, Sam, glanced briefly back over his shoulder and Jack shivered. He supposed playing the fool wasn't the worst gig right now. The moon was high, monsters were about, and the Winchesters were smiling side by side, guns loaded and knives gleaming.
And Jack didn't have enough liquor for this.