Welcome all to the first installment of my Supernatural fanfic that will be my debut as a fanfiction authoress. I plan to make this story go on for a long, long time. It will contain an OC that I created (you won't be meeting her in this prologue), however the story will closely follow the canon plot line. I hope you all enjoy it!
Please give me feedback on how I'm doing. The world of writing fanfics is largely uncharted territory for me and I'd love to get outside opinions on my work.
- the13thverse
Title: The Rising Ashes
Author: the13thverse
Fandom: Supernatural
Rating: M (for later chapters that I will warn readers about in advance)
Pairing: Dean/OC
Disclaimer: I don't know Dean Winchester (Jensen Ackles), Sam Winchester (Jared Padalecki), Castiel (Misha Collins), or any of the other characters from Supernatural and the actors who play them. I don't claim any ownership over them and seek no profit through this work. I don't mean to cause harm, confusion or headaches. If any of the characters this story is about would like discuss future works, you know how to get in touch with me. Also, please don't sue me…I don't do well in jail and I have no money. Void where prohibited.
Lawrence, Kansas
November 2, 1983
Crickets chirped a chorus that echoed in the otherwise silent night. A large deciduous tree with no leaves stood proudly outside a small suburban home. Its branches were so thick that they could even cast shadows in the pitch black of night and yet they were discontented with their Earthy prison. They reached to brush the stars in the sky, always falling just a bit short and crying orange and red leafy tears in the November wind. However, without fail the tree would surely rise again and persevere in a few months time after a brief, cold, mourning period. That could be a metaphor.
Inside the home a woman, Mary Winchester, was carrying a small child, her 4-year-old son Dean, down the hallway into a dark-lit nursery. It was well past the child's bedtime, and Mary let out a tired yawn. It was well past her bedtime as well. Nevertheless she managed a weary smile for the eldest of her two boys, "Come on Dean, let's say good night to your brother."
She turned on the lights. The baby, Sam, was lying in his crib and looking over at his mother and older brother with fascination as Mary set Dean down. Dean leaned over the side of the crib and kissed his infant brother lightly on the forehead. This had become a nightly ritual in the Winchester household. Dean often wondered if it had been a nightly ritual to kiss him goodnight when he was Sam's age. "G 'night, Sam."
Mary leaned over the 6-month-old's crib as well as whispered a soft, " Good night, love," before brushing Sam's hair back and kissing his forehead.
From the doorway a man's deep voice gruff with years filled the room, " Hey, Dean."
At the sound of his own voice, the boy in question turned to face the door with an excited squeal. Sam hiccupped in his crib. The tall, hairy man in the doorway wearing a USMC T-shirt was none other than John Winchester. Dean rushed over to him. " Daddy!"
"Hey, buddy." John scooped Dean up in his arms. " So what do you think? You think Sammy's ready to toss around a football yet?"
" No, Daddy." Dean shook his head, laughing. If anything, Sam was smaller than a football. Dean was almost certain Sam would be a midget when he grew up, an absolute shorty no doubt.
John laughed, "No, definitely not."
Mary passed John and Dean on her way out of the room. "You got him?"
" I got him," John hugged Dean closer before turning to the crib, "Sweet dreams, Sam." John carried Dean out of the room, flipping off the lights. Sam watched them go, gurgling, then tried to reach his toes. They were begging to be played with and eaten. The baseball-themed mobile above Sam's crib began to spin on its own while Sam watched in wonder.
The transportation-themed clock on the wall ticked, ticked, and then abruptly stopped.
The moon-shaped nightlight flickered.
In the master bedroom, lights flickered on a baby monitor sitting on a nightstand next to a photo of Mary and John. Strange noises came through the monitor. Mary stirred from her sleep. She turned on the light on the nightstand and tried to wake her husband, " John?" She turned when she didn't get a response and found that she was alone in the queen size bed that she and John shared. She got up and walked down the hall to Sam's nursery. She stopped in the doorway. A tall silhouette stood bent over Sam's crib.
Rubbing her eyes she asked, "John? Is he hungry?" Her voice had been coated in fatigue. She had almost forgotten the feeling of waking up in the middle of the night to care for an infant. The head of the silhouette seemed to tilt towards her and shushed her in a low whisper. He must have just gotten Sam back to sleep. One less thing for her to do. Satisfied with the response she turned to go back to the comfort of her own bed while muttering a brief, " All right."
Heading back down the hallway, Mary noticed that a small light by the stairs was flickering. She frowned and tapped at it until the light steadied. With a intrigued humming sound she continued her journey back. She would have to remind John to take a look at the light in the morning.
From the top of the staircase Mary noticed a flickering glow coming from the living room along with the muffled sounds of what seemed to be gunshots. Taking a few steps down the stairs to investigate, she noticed that her husband was sprawled out on the couch. He had fallen asleep watching an old war movie that had been playing. But if John was there in front of the television then-
She bolted upstairs, "Sammy! Sammy!" She all but took the door of Sam's nursery off its hinges barging through and stopped short before letting out an ear-shattering scream as the door slammed shut behind her. John woke with a start.
" Mary?" He scrambles out of the chair. "Mary!" Running upstairs he burst through the closed door of the nursery.
The room was quiet and appeared empty except for Sam fully awake in his crib. "Mary?" Maybe the scream had all been part of a dream. John glanced around and pushed down the side of Sam's crib. "Hey, Sammy. You okay?"
Something dark dripped onto the pillow next to Sam's head. John touched it lightly. As soon as his finger made contact two more drops landed on the back of his hand. John looked up. Mary was sprawled across the ceiling, the stomach of her nightgown stained crimson red with blood. She was staring at John and struggling to breathe. Her eyes screamed at him in silent pain. They pleaded for her safety as well as the safety of her family. John collapsed onto the floor, staring back at his wife's mangled body. He felt his own blood run cold. "No! Mary!"
At the sound of his scream, Mary burst into a sea of flames. The fire quickly spread over the ceiling. John stood frozen in horror. Sam let out a loud wail. John, reminded he's not alone, scrambled to his feet, scooped his infant son out of his crib and rushed out of the room.
Dean, in a half-awake daze, came down the hallway to investigate. Opening the door to his little brother's nursery he let out a surprised shriek at his father shoved baby Sam into his small arms. " Daddy!"
His father's voice was commanding and unquestionable. "Take your brother outside as fast as you can and don't look back! Now, Dean, go!"
Not paying attention to his sons' retreating forms, John faced the nightmarish nursery once more and let out yet another plea to the heavens. " Mary! No!"
The entire room was engulfed in red hot fire. Mary herself could barely be seen, still suspended from the ceiling at the epicenter of the flames.
Dean made it outside, holding Sam tightly in his arms as Dean collapsed to his knees in the yard just as he heard his father wail from inside the house. "It's okay, Sammy," he comforted the crying infant as best as he could with what little knowledge his four-year-old brain could conjure up about childcare. He turned to look up at Sam's window, lit with a brilliant red and gold glow. Dean's heart jumped at the sight of his father running outside let out a started yelp as John scooped them both up in his arms and hauled them across their yard in one quick motion. " I gotcha."
Mary was nowhere to be seen
Fire exploded out of Sam's nursery window.
The Lawrence fire department arrived moments later. A firefighter rushed out of the fire truck and took over at the gauges for his comrade.
" I got it. You go hold the line up."
The second firefighter went to the back of the truck to take a hose from a third firefighter. That firefighter took the hose towards the house where a fourth firefighter sprayed through Sam's nursery window. A paramedic opened the back of an ambulance. A police officer stood in the yard waving some neighbors away from the scene. " Stay back. You have to stay back."
Across the street from the house, John and Dean sat on the hood of John's Impala, John holding Sam. John looked up at the remnants of the fire. It was too late to save their home or the life of his Mary, but in that moment John Winchester swore an undying revenge on whoever, or rather whatever, had taken her from this world.