After the End
DeanWinchester stares through the thin glass windowpanes blankly, as they rattle with the force of the storm.
His trained eyes keep a constant watch over the stony pathway into his little hermitage; noting every leaf that falls, every flutter of a robin's wings.
He can never let his guard down…
Over the years monsters, demons, angels, and hunters, had pursued him relentlessly.
Never satisfied, they were determined to kill him; or worse, to use him as a weapon in their own demented holy wars. They hounded the weary demon from all sides, but he had seen enough violence for his miserable days.
He was quite content to spend the rest of eternity hiding; if it meant he could finally have some peace.
The only drawback to his life of solitude was, of course, that he had not seen his brother in nearly seventeen years.
After winning the infamous 'Final War', Dean had vanished without a trace. He'd chosen a life in isolation; where he could avoid bringing the all the forces of hell down on his little brother.
He hoped that without him, Sam would finally have a chance at the normal life he'd always dreamed of.
Dean missed his brother every day, of course, but he craved Sam's safety more than his company.
…
Dean blinks into the void, and his eyes flash to a dangerous black; as his senses pick up the telltale creaking of door hinges.
He wheels around, ready to take on all comers, but there is just one...
A young girl stands in his open doorway, holding up her hands in surrender. Her soaking wet hair whips around her face, clinging to her neck and forehead. "Dean Winchester?"
He shakes himself, and resumes a fighting stance. He seen too many innocent looking 'little girls' rip a person to shreds in his day. "Who wants to know?" His voice is thick and raspy with disuse.
She steps forward tentatively, producing a worn leather journal from her satchel. " "My name is Mary Winchester."
"Mary Winchester?" Dean mouths to himself, unable to get the words to form properly into a question.
The girl hands him the journal, and pulls a crumpled photo out of her pocket. "And you, are my Uncle Dean. I recognize you from the picture."
Dean feels numb, as he flips through his fathers journal.
Mary Winchester…Uncle Dean… That must mean-
"No-" He breaks into louder-than-necessary laughter. "That bastard actually did it? Settled down- had a kid even?!"
"I… I don't know what you mean." Mary stammers, taken aback by the outburst. "But I need your help…"
"Didn't your dad tell you kid?" Dean tries to shrug her off, "I'm retired."
Mary struggles to make her soft voice heard over the crackling thunder, "Please, You have to listen to me-"
"Look, you can't be here. I'm dangerous." Dean cuts her off, a slight hint of his irritation creeping into his voice. "Does your dad know you are here? He's gonna be pissed!"
Mary's head drops, and her lower lip quivers.
The room falls deathly silent, as Dean waits for her to speak.
"Uncle Dean, Dad's on a hunting trip, and he hasn't been home in a few days…"