Monsters
By AngeloftheOdd
Funny, thought Dean, how you focus on the little things when you believe you are dying. The way the light filtered into the room. The intricate detail of the stained glass ceiling. The old vampire rolling his eyes upwards as if he were in some religious ecstasy. Monsters can pray. There was some comfort in that, seeing as how he was rapidly becoming one.
Was this how Sam had felt with all that demon blood coursing through his veins? How old Gordon Walker the vamp hunter had suffered before finally embarking on his final suicide mission? They had gone down swinging, guns blazing, giving it tooth and nail. Deaths that were the stuff of legends. True, something resembling Sammy had come back, but it wasn't his brother. He had Gramps and the family now. Bobby had managed to get himself out of that damned contract. Lisa and Ben were safer without him around anyways. Maybe dying here wasn't such a bad thing. He was alone in this world now at any rate. Did vampires get to go to Heaven? It seemed doubtful.
His gaze remained steadily skyward. What was he expecting? The cold smirk of Death reaching out his hand towards him? Angel wings to come crashing through the glass and wrap themselves around him in a protective embrace? Cas. You always come when I call. We share something stronger than any ties that bind this mortal existence. This immortal existence... He could feel the anger rising, flushing his cheeks with the blood that was no longer his own. If he gave up now, he wouldn't deserve to be saved. Someone up there had liked him enough to bring him back twice. Rolling over and giving in now would simply be too easy.
White hot anger flooded him. Rage for the vampires and their twisted plans. For being yanked away from the only family he had left. For being betrayed by his brother yet again. Oh yes, it was clear now. Sam had stood there and watched. Had let this happen to him. He was going to live through this so he'd be able to look him straight in the face and ask him why.
Funny, how blurry the mind becomes when instinct takes over and yet still focuses so clearly. Hunter. Hunted. Dean was a hunter, and a damn good one too. The monster virus inside him only served to give fodder to his already honed strength and agility. It was the last mistake this clan of blood suckers was ever going to make. Funnier still was how those cold, dead eyes of the decapitated leader insisted on looking heavenwards. Still pleading for salvation from some dark father who wasn't going to answer. Maybe the monsters weren't so different from humanity after all.
It were these thoughts that persisted, even after the cure had been administered. That the things they hunted weren't any better or any worse than those who pursued them. Self preservation and protecting what mattered, both were slaves to the same desires. No matter how hard he tried looking at in black and white, he couldn't anymore. For so long hunting had just been a career to him. A very shitty job but a job nonetheless. But you couldn't stamp your emotions down and forget that some of those female vamps were only young women a few days ago. If you did that...well...Dean suspected you ended up becoming something very much like what Sam had turned into. An emotionless killer who would use his own brother as bait.
He wished he could call Lisa. She always knew exactly what to say to make him feel better. No. That wasn't it either. She knew what to say that would make him feel normal. Normal just hadn't worked out for him. Talking to Sam wasn't an option any more and lord knew Bobby and Cas had their plates full at the moment too. Instead, he perched on the roof of the Impala, looking up towards the night sky.