Spoiler Alert : Reference to S7 Ep3 "The Girl Next Door"

Disclaimer : I've never owned 'em, don't own 'em, and sadly never will own 'em!

OF LOVE, HATE AND JUDGEMENT

"All our times have come. Here, but now they're gone.
Seasons don't fear the Reaper, nor do the wind, the sun or the rain."
(Don't Fear the Reaper : Blue Oyster Cult)

-oOo-

I watched them when they first drove into town, though they did not notice me. I remember their coming here seemed to somehow add a little grey to a cool summer dawn. When they passed by, I saw the hazy presence of a blue gold aura surrounding the vehicle they rode in, and I recognized them for the Hunters they were.

-o-

Years ago there had been another Hunter come to my town. The aura which clung to him had been far easier to spot. Stronger, it showed as a narrow band, the deep, dark red of congealed blood, and it had encompassed him in much the same way as the one which travelled with these two. Strange, but I think he drove a black car as well?...Yes. I'm certain now that he did. When I heard him state that he was a Hunter, I remember how pleased I was, how grateful I felt that he had chosen to come here, and the moment of dizzy relief when he sent away the spirit that had hurt so many, causing so much grief throughout the town. I stood myself amongst the first to thank him, that dark haired man with his even darker moods. Despite the invitations, he didn't stay, moving on immediately, giving the townsfolk no chance to reward him or to thank him properly, disappointing many who lived here. But, that one had a destiny to follow, and he was not the type to keep it waiting. I found myself wondering about this pair, did they also have a destiny they had to fulfil? I admit, I was curious to know.

-o-

It wasn't any hard task for me to track them down. The town had only the one place to stay, and a quick glance at the register provided me with their room number. Within my curiosity, I decided to go and introduce myself, say good morning, welcome them, find out what had brought them here, and speak to them of the dark Hunter. Maybe they would know him? Know what became of him? Hopeful, I took myself to their room.

-o-

I confess, my initial introduction to the two Hunters was not the success I had envisaged, nor the pleasure I had hoped it would be. As I approached their quarters, it was impossible not to hear the sound of raised voices coming from within the room and it was perfectly clear that the two were engaged in an unhappy and heated exchange of words, as opposed to their being loud with the excitement at the facilities available to them in their temporary accommodation. I was almost at the door when it was flung open, and an exceptionally tall young man with long hair and gentle features which were, at that time, twisted into a scowl, looked straight through me in his haste to storm outside and away from the second Hunter. Feeling uncertain as to the appropriateness of my timing, I hesitated and stood to one side. I even considered turning and leaving as rapidly as I could. It is both likely and possible that, if I had left, a very different ending would have occurred. As it happened, I was still stood pondering when the second of the Hunters stepped into the daylight. Angry, his eyes were searching for the first. And oh...Such eyes!

-o-

I will not insult you by speaking of their colour as being that of the deepest of fine green emeralds; or to liken their green to that of the brilliant sparkling Peridot. Both descriptions would be distorted and untrue. Their green was, however, even and clear, made all the more striking by the honeyed gold colouring caused by the touch of the sun on his face. His features were fine boned. Somehow at once both delicate and yet masculine. The first, despite his sour expression, was certainly handsome and pleasing to the eye. But to me, this second green eyed, golden skinned man with his short hair bleached in parts by the sun was, with hand on heart, the most beautiful man I had ever seen! I know if you could see him, you would be certain to understand why I wanted him, nay, hungered for him so badly. Imagine, then, my devastation, my grief, when the one who had so completely stolen my heart paid me no heed at all, instead muttering curses after the first before striding back into the room, slamming the door closed after himself.

-o-

There are times, my sweet one, when we see something and tell ourselves how nice it would be to have it...There are times when we are so taken with something, perhaps an intricate piece of jewellery, that we will happily pay twice the price necessary to own it. And then there are those times, rare and exceptional moments, when we see something and we know, truthfully, that without it in our lives, then that life may as well come to it's end, such is it's value to us. My friend; here was such a moment for me, and so I cast aside all caution, throwing it into the four winds, and swiftly stepped into the room after the man whom I had fallen deeply, unendingly, in love with; from the moment that I saw how well the sun also loved him.

-o-

My beloved's back was towards me, moving with his fighter's grace across the open sitting area. I stood silent, my excitement almost unbearable as I waited for him to sense my presence, and to turn to me. He would see me standing there, and he would see how utterly and completely I loved him. I wholly believed, without one single speck of doubt, that upon seeing the strength and passion of the love I had for him and him alone, he would be bound to straight away love me back.

-o-

I saw my dear one continue moving towards the sleeping area, and I surely must have blushed a little at my own thoughts in that moment. Right before my love reached the two beds, his body stilled, his head tilted a little on one side, as though he were listening, and I smiled. Now. Now our moment was come...

-o-

Do you see my tears my affectionate friend? Know then that these are not the tears of happiness and joy that I had thought they were destined to be. No...These are tears born out of sorrow. They are the tears of a heart carelessly broken, of a torturous betrayal, and of my bitterness and rage toward the man I loved. That wicked and cold-hearted man who stubbornly and wilfully refused any acceptance of the likelihood that he loved me back. Even worse, although you might like to think this an impossible act for him to commit upon seeing how with my whole heart I loved him; without one moment's hesitation and with malicious intent, he caused me to suffer powerful pain, the like of which I had never known before. My most dear friend, may you never have the misfortune to discover for yourself the speed at which heartfelt love can be torn and twisted into eternal hate.

-oOo-

There was a large part of Dean that was tempted to go after Sam, try to smooth things over; Hell, even apologise and actually sound sincere about it, if that's what it took. Not that Dean actually believed for one moment that he had done anything wrong, it was simply that he was sick and tired of seeing Sam sulking. He was thoroughly fed up of the one word answers which were all Sam deigned to give him. Irritated by the accusing glances Sam was constantly throwing his way. Sam had chosen to come back, and Dean had assumed it meant that his brother had seen sense at last. Whatever she had done to save Sam's skin when they were kids, the woman was a monster, and she had killed. The simple fact was, she would kill again. Dean had done his job. He chose not to think about how he had lied to Sam then. Or why, if he was so damn certain he'd done the right thing, he hadn't just come clean to his brother? Why hadn't he told Sam what he'd done from the get go? Instead, Sam had ended up finding out that Dean had lied, and promptly walked out on Dean yet again. A short while after leaving, Sam had only very reluctantly gone on to work a case with Dean, after they had both ended up in the same place having unintentionally both hunted down the same job. Dean figured that meant they were both good again, had moved on. But, his younger brother's on-going sniping and bitching had, at times, made Dean wish Sam had kept going his own way for a little while longer, till he was actually over it.

-o-

His head pounding, Dean left Sam to his wanton sulking and moping around. After a straight ten hour drive to their current destination in order to follow up a potential case, Dean intended to try sleeping his headache away.

"Screw you Sammy. Jerk. I can't be freakin' bothered."

He closed the door to the motel room and headed towards his bed. He had almost made it when he realised the fine hairs on the back of his neck were standing to attention. Stopping, he closed his eyes and, head tilted slightly to one side, he reached out with his other senses, instantly feeling that tingle down his spine that meant someone or something was watching him. He wasn't alone in the room.

-o-

Dean did a 180 turn at the same time as he pulled his gun from the small of his back.

"Alright douche...Show yourself, dick-wad, I'm in no mood for ghouls or games."

A slight shimmer in the air in front of the door gave Dean his target, and he let loose with a salt round, closely followed by a second. He thought he heard a woman's scream as the shimmer blinked out. Knowing he might not have put the thing off entirely, Dean waited, his eyes scanning the room, ready to fire again. When the thing fully materialised, she appeared right by his side and a simple flick of her wrist tore the gun from his hand, sending it clattering to the floor and spinning off under the two seat sofa. The touch of her hand as she slapped her open palm against Dean's forehead was cold as ice. It was all he had time to register, before someone unkindly turned all the lights off in his head and shut down his senses.

-oOo-

Do you dislike me now? Have I twisted and skewed the view you had formed of me? My friend, I would not be surprised, nor take offence at your distaste. I dragged the very essence of that Hunter creature, that man whom I had foolishly believed myself to love, deep down into the cold and eternal dark of my existence. I could offer to you the excuse that I sought to help him understand why I came to him, why I entered his room; that I only wished to show him what it is like to be without sun or warmth, and to explain that, in my eyes, he was both those things, and so I loved him. But, all that would be a lie. I took him to punish him my dear. I took him purely to watch him suffer, drink in his fear and, then, to be close to him as his life ebbed away. I wanted nothing more than to be witness to that moment when his own sun finally set.

-oOo-

Dean woke shivering with cold and disorientated. He had no idea where he was, only that he could see nothing. He remained still and quiet, trying to gather his thoughts and get his bearings. The solid pressure at his back told him he was lying flat on a hard, even surface. The air he breathed tasted stale and rank, his nostrils twitched at the smell of mould and damp. A terrible and uneasy feeling rose within him, and he hesitantly reached out to the side with one hand. His heart rate increased and his mouth almost instantly turned dry when, after only two or three inches, his searching fingers knocked against a solid obstruction which felt to be covered by a loose layer of cool, satiny material. Panic churned in his stomach and he silently prayed to be wrong, needing to take a deep breath before forcing himself to move his hand again and explore his surroundings further. His searching didn't take long, the inside of a coffin is very limited in it's potential for exploration. Made more so when the rightful owner was still present, or at least the bones, which if lying in the right order would form their skeleton, were still in there, heaped alongside him. As the slow burn of panic began, Dean didn't need three guesses to surmise that the designated occupier was the female spirit who had whammied him back at the hotel. He had never, however, had a spirit physically transport him to another place. This one having done exactly that, Dean reasoned, meant that he was drowning in a whole new depth of screwed. Drowning immediately raised the question of air time, and how much he had left of the vile concoction he was currently breathing? The slow burn of panic increased speed.

"Hey! Lady...Can you hear me?...Talk to me dammit...Tell me what you want..."

-oOo-

Dean was in shtuck. Nothin' really new. Boy always did have a bad habit of parking himself dead centre in trouble's path. One of a number of his more irritating qualities; the worst of 'em being the kid's smart ass mouth! Truth be told, he'd missed hearing the boy's one liners, the asides dripping sarcasm, and the arse end lies his kid used to try tellin' him to explain one thing or another. John briefly wondered if Dean had ever figured out that there were times his dad let the lie go? Pretending to believe his eldest son, allowing Dean to delight in thinking he'd got one over on his old man. John considered his eldest's current situation, and his own options. Since last seeing both his boys at the opening of Hell's gate - Pair of amateurs - he'd kept clear of their lives, recognising they had to sink or swim by their own actions. It had been a hard thing for John, the hardest; but Dean didn't get his own knuckle headed, stubborn streak from nowhere. This though? This was new, and it was taking place on his plain. Someone needed to put this bitch in her place, and John Winchester was just the spirit to make certain it happened.

-oOo-

Sam looked at his watch. He'd been walking for an hour. He was grateful to his brother for not trying to stop him, and for even backing off from ringing him constantly, hoping he'd fall for some big fat fake apology, just to get him to go back to the motel. Sam felt far from forgiving Dean for what he viewed as betrayal on top of a lie, but he figured with the time it would take him to walk back, Dean might just have had long enough to realise how very let down Sam felt. For Sam's part, he knew how hard it must have been for Dean to back off and allow him this time out, given how afraid his older brother was that Sam might leave for good one of these occasions. And so Sam increased his pace on the return journey. Once he was getting nearer the motel, Sam tried ringing Dean, surprised when his brother didn't answer, instead letting the call divert to voicemail.

"Hi...um, it's me. I'll be back in 5...So, I'll see you then, I guess."

Without conscious thought, Sam's pace increased further..

-o-

The strength of his relief on seeing that the Impala was still parked opposite their room was greater than Sam had anticipated, and his stride lengthened until he found himself in front of the closed door. Finding it unlocked, Sam felt the tension which had built up since his call to his brother begin to ebb away. Walking into the room, however, his eyes were drawn to a dark shape on the floor and for a fraction of a second, his mind struggled to grasp what he was actually looking at. When at last he identified the shape as being Dean, it was as if a series of alarms suddenly went off inside him, and he hurried across to his immobile brother, already calling Dean's name as he dropped to his knees by his brother's side. Rolling his brother over onto his back Sam began a methodical search for any injuries, all the while talking to his brother but getting no response. A faint pulse and the slow, shallow, almost imperceptible rise and fall of Dean's chest the only signs that Dean was alive.

-oOo-

Years of solitary wandering, pathetically telling myself that I was still a part of something, that I still mattered, that I contributed to the life of the town when, the shameful reality was that no one knew I was there, and I mattered to no one. So to hear my ex-love call out to me, inviting me to talk with him, I was helpless to resist and straight away I responded, joining him in his wooden prison, inhabiting my own earthly remains, long since deserted. Oh, how you would have laughed, my dear, if you had born witness. My poor bones were in a complete jumble, so then, was I once I wore them again. You will understand better when I tell you this, one effect was such that I was able to scratch the back of my scull using the toes on one of my feet! Had the reason for my being there been light-hearted in nature, the whole predicament would have seemed hilarious; but remember, I was of an ill temper at that time, a temper made worse by the need to piece myself together like some child's puzzle.

-oOo-

Dean cringed.

"What the Hell? What're you doin'? Freak!"

Bones from the disjointed skeleton had begun to rattle and slide over and around his body. Breathing heavily, his panic becoming full blown, he battered at those he could reach, knocking them to one side, where they simply continued to move, regularly jiggling straight back onto him. A stern voice inside Dean's head barked out commands. Keep still boy! Slow your breathing! In the seething midst of his panic, the instructions were a rock to grab onto.

-o-

Almost by reflex, Dean complied and became still. He then turned his attention to calming his breathing, realising the stupidity of gulping down huge lungs-full of air when supplies were so limited. Once he was thinking straight, he recognised that the bones were shifting back into their proper place, rearranging themselves, and he just happened to be in their way.

"Good job you're a skinny bitch, not really much room for two in here. Try and keep to your own side, ok?"

-oOo-

His voice sent a tremor down my newly reformed spine my dear. Deep and husky, almost a growl. I very nearly loved him all over again, having to sternly remind myself of my purpose in taking him to my grave. Softly I spoke to him.

-oOo-

"I come to watch you die, Hunter. Do you feel how thin the air has become? Do you think on how your every exhalation adds to the poison that soon now will be all that you have left to breathe? I carried nothing but love for you, but you filled me with pain. Know, then, that your end is of your own making Hunter. By your ill-conceived action, you turned my love into hate; and so to vengeance."

Dean smiled bitterly in the dark, the spirit was right about the air, each breath brought with it less and less oxygen, but he wasn't about to let her know that.

"That what this' about?...A couple of dumb salt rounds? ... Don' s'ppose you'd go for ... kiss 'n make up?"

-oOo-

Nearing his life's end, this man whom I hated with as much passion as I had loved, even as he fought for his life's breath, saw fit to make fun of me, such was his cold hearted insolence. I take pride in the fact that I restrained myself from finishing him right then, possibly providing him with the quick ending he likely desired. Instead, I wrapped my mortal remains around him and spoke these words; I wish to feel how your body moves in your final, desperate, fight for the fresh, sweet air that I deny you. And fight he most certainly did, my friend.

-o-

At the end of his life, his body bucked and jerked in violent frenzy. His hands clawed and raked at the sides of the box he was to share with me throughout eternity. I felt each and every tightening of the muscles, in his chest, in his stomach, and throughout the length of his legs. Elated, I joyously, wantonly, rode his body's last, dreadful, spasm; before, finally, it gave out and fell still. In that sudden calm, I witnessed those green eyes begin to close forever...My dear? He was altogether delicious!

-oOo-

Sam paced back and forth at the side of his brother's bed, raking a hand continuously through the length of his hair in frustration, his gaze repeatedly flicking to Dean. The older Hunter continued to remain still and unresponsive. With no wounds to provide any clue as to what might have happened, Sam was at a loss, helpless, while his brother stayed serenely in a coma-like state. He had tried talking to Dean, coaxing him to come back, to open his eyes. Sam had tried ordering Dean to wake up, he had begged and pleaded, telling Dean he needed his big brother by his side, he had tried sudden heat, the freezing cold of ice cubes and, finally, applying short sharp pain. None of the techniques had worked. Sam stared reluctantly down at the phone in his hand, then back at Dean.

"Sorry bro', but you're leavin' me no option here, I'm callin' 911."

-o-

As the words left Sam's lips, Dean's body erupted into frenetic movement, catching his younger brother by surprise. Not unreasonably, Sam's initial thought was that Dean had reacted to him calling out the paramedics. With a hand on Dean's chest, Sam tried calming his distressed brother.

"Hey! Ok! I'm not makin' the call! I swear; no 911, please Dean, stop. You hear me Dee? What the Hell's happening to you? Please...What is it Dean? How can I help?"

Dean's mouth was open and he appeared to be fighting for air.

"Dean? Breathe man! It's ok, just breathe! Dean?"

Dean's back arched up from the bed, tendons like rope bulged in his neck, every muscle throughout his body seemed to cramp and tightly knot all at the same moment, before suddenly relaxing and allowing Dean to fall limply back on to the bed, once again lying still; ominously so.

-o-

Sam went into meltdown at the terrible realisation that Dean had stopped breathing. In a state of fear, Sam grabbed hold of both his inert brother's shoulders and began shaking him frantically, too shocked to think straight.

"No! Don't. Don't you do this to me, you hear? You can't do this, I won't let you! Breathe dammit. You gotta breathe. Dean, you gotta, please bro'!"

-o-

"Sam! Calm down son. You know what to do. Now do it!"

The voice of John Winchester sliced through Sam's mind numbing terror as clearly as if his father were standing right there alongside him. And for once, Sam listened, obeying without question, reigning in his panic to a level that freed him to begin the much needed CPR on his brother. At his side, unbeknown to Sam, Dean stood in silence as he sadly watched his baby brother's urgent attempts to save him.

-oOo-

I had triumphed, my thirst for revenge on the man who had so grievously hurt and then mocked me was complete, and I was again free to continue my long wait for someone I could love, and who would love me deeply in return. So many years my friend, of waiting, of hoping, of patiently keeping watch over the road into the township, seeking just one man to love amongst those who stopped rather than continuing along on their journey to whatever destination.

-o-

As you might guess, there were times before this Hunter man, when I believed I had found the one. Although not so many as you might imagine managed caught my eye and captured my heart. Still, of the dozen or so that I have loved, not a one had yet allowed their heart to blossom with love for me. It was a constant source of sadness for me that I had felt vengeance so many times; whilst the joy I sought continued to be denied me.

-o-

Perhaps it was because Green Eyes was a Hunter? I cannot know for sure but, whatever the reason, even in his death this one proved to be different...Special. And, before I could depart the confines of my grave once more, another broke through and joined me there, one with a temper as dark as his looks. He did not hesitated, swiftly enfolding my spiritual essence within his own, thereby entrapping me in my very own coffin! His very tone made me tremble in fear, his presence surrounding me was the deep dark red that is the colour of congealed blood.

-oOo-

"No you don't, bitch. I ain't letting you through. You're staying right here, with me...That's my boy you've been dickin' with, and you're about to send him exactly where he belongs, alive, breathin', and back with his brother! And, in case you're wondering how I know you're gonna follow orders? It's because I've absolutely no qualms about starting a fire in your bones, right here, right now. So, lady, I suggest you do what I'm tellin' you...Oh...One more thing?...You'd be very, very stupid to test me. Do I make myself clear, you screwed up scank? Or do you need me to demonstrate just how tenuous your situation is right about now, whore?"

-oOo-

Never, not in life nor in the beyond, had I ever found myself confronted with such fury and barely contained violence! Shocked and terrified though I was, it none-the-less occurred to me that I felt no great surprise to discover a link between this presence, so full of rage as it was towards my poor self, and the defiant Hunter who's life I had so recently been forced to take following his cruel rebuttal of my love.

-o-

What else could I do? I was left with little choice but to comply with the wicked creature's command; for command it most certainly was! Only after I made a vow agreeing to do as instructed, did that vile spirit lift me back to the plain through which we spirit's drift, often in isolation. Even there, the father of the one I hated did not fully disengage his presence from my own. A clear indication of his disdainful distrust that I would keep my word once given! I regretfully hurried to perform the allotted, unsavoury, task.

-oOo-

Dean glanced at the clock, wondering how much longer his brother would keep on fighting to re-unite his spirit with the empty shell lying on the bed? He wished he had the strength to reach out and touch Sam, to make him stop now, make him rest. It felt like a physical pain, his want for there to be some way to tell Sam how much he loved him for trying, but that it was ok to stand down. It hurt Dean to know this wasn't a battle that Sam could win, but have no way to get his message across the divide that now separated them.

-o-

Dean's vigil was distracted when he felt an odd sensation, like someone tugging on a rope that had been looped around him. He turned quickly, gazing around the motel room, noticing for the first time how much sharper everything looked, how much brighter and more intense every colour seemed. He felt the irritating tugging sensation again.

"Who's there? Well?...Oh for...Either show yourself jerkoff, or get lost. Your choice."

A fierce yank took him off his feet and Dean had just enough time to think maybe he should've been more polite? before instinctively throwing both arms across his face as he travelled at break-neck speed directly towards the solid wall at one side of the room's closed door.

-o-

Feeling no impact, Dean shifted his arms just enough to create a small gap he could peer through. His eyes opened wide.

"You have gotta be shittin' me!"

-oOo-

Held in the dark Hunter's grasp, we both watched the tear appear in the dark, letting in the usual welcome stream of bright light, from which was vomited forth the figure of the dark Hunter's son, the man I had the misfortune to have earlier fallen in love with. The miserable creature was deposited at our feet, and the glorious light, as ever, vanished. My dear, in his haste to reach the curled up essence of his son, I had to endure the indignity of being towed along carelessly by the dark Hunter. Upon reaching his son's side, the dark one surprised me by the tenderness he showed toward his villainous offspring. His care and concern were at odds with his callous disregard of my own heartache and loneliness. I watched this man as he joyfully gathered his child into his strong embrace, all the while whispering soft words of reassurance and care. I saw the son's tears and adoration as he responded to his father's presence. How tightly the son clung on to the dark Hunter, as though he intended never to let go, at the same time taking solace in the comfort his father all the while offered. I felt for myself the son's overwhelming emotions, how very torn he was between his joy at finding his father again, and the devestating heartache of leaving behind his beloved brother. For the first time, I witnessed the man I had condemned to a most miserable death, smile, as his father told him he was to return to the younger brother's side. I say in truth, his smile was sunlight itself on this dark plain. My dear, sweet friend, as I stood there, forgotten by them both, watching this father and his child, the realisation came to me that, at long last, I had, finally, found love.

-o-

So, there you have it. There is little more I can add. I suppose I could tell you about the younger's sound of sheer delight and happiness when he saw his brother take his first breath unaided, of the love in the eyes of both the brothers as they gazed in awe at each other when the elder awoke, and of how it gently amused the elder that, for a while, he often caught the younger simply watching him, happy to have him close again. And the elder, I could speak of how many nights he would remain awake, gazing at the younger's sleeping form, and of how at every one of those occasions, he would give the smile that I still carry where once my heart did beat. But then...We two are not here together for any of that, are we?

-o-

You are the Reaper my friend, and it is you who must be my judge on this occasion. I will gladly stand by your choosing. Tell me then...In which direction do you intend now to carry my immortal soul?

-oOo-
FIN.
Thank you for doing me the huge honour of taking the time to read this short fic. I very much hope you enjoyed it. Anyone willing to share their judgement with me, I'd be very curious to know which way you decided to send the spirit, and why? (Sorry, but I am naturally nosey) :D Also, as always, it would really make my day if you feel you have enjoyed reading this enough to leave a quick review? If not, I still hope you have enjoyed reading :)
Love, Chick xxx