Chapter One
She stood on the top step of the bunker, her arms straight out in front of her, her hand adorned a gun. The sound of the shot was unexpected, and Sam probably would have been able to read the determination in her eyes—the absolute will to shoot him if he wasn't half out of his mind with grief. The bullet was in his leg below his knee cap before he could even scream. Pain tore through him like wildfire and he fell onto the floor of the bunker.
"Gah!" He gripped his leg with his hands, the blood flowing out from below his knee. The bullet was still lodged in there—somewhere around his knee cap. He could almost feel it. The British woman—no bitch Sam thought as he gritted his teeth against the pain walked down the steps and towards him, her strut as elegant and cocky as ever. If he didn't have a bullet in his damn leg he would have clocked her with a chair.
"If you'd like to come with me please," she said, in an almost calm voice. "This doesn't have to be any harder, if I only have your cooperation."
"I'm a bit compromised to walk anywhere, bitch," Sam spat. She cocked her head—Toni did she say her name was? And pushed a finger right into the wound on his leg. Fresh pain shot up him and Sam pushed her hand away. He didn't care what happened to him—god damn it hurt, but Dean was dead, gone into the empty. Cas was booted to god knows where because of that sigil. Sam was all alone.
Maybe I'll get lucky, he thought. Maybe she'll shoot the next bullet right in the heart.
He knew if Dean knew what he was thinking he would have a few choice words with him. Before his chest got chalked-full of fifty-hundred thousand souls and he was blasted into oblivion, they had had a talk. Driving to the cemetery in the Impala, the car was filled with a dreading silence. Of what was to come. They had been through this many times before. One brother sacrificing himself for the greater good—because of a mess they had started. The other brother brooding and promising to move on and have a life, but trying to figure out ways to save his sibling. But this time something was different. Billie had explained the Empty, there was no coming back from that. It wasn't hell or purgatory—thank god, but it wasn't heaven either. You didn't go on. You just stopped going. You didn't exist anymore. Sam couldn't bring Dean back from nothing, but as he looked out the window he bit his lip, it didn't mean he wasn't going to damn well try. Dean must have sensed his silent determination. His hands clenched in fists. And his head hurting because he didn't know how to save Dean this time. And why the hell did it have to be Dean?
"I don't mind, you know. Not being here anymore," Dean had said suddenly, to break the silence. "It's okay Sammy, really. And stop the damn smoke coming out of your ears. You can't save me from this one, bro."
"I know," Sam said, lowering his eyes to his lap. He couldn't look his big brother in the face—couldn't lie to him.
"No Sam. I mean it. Look at me."
And Sam did, because Sam always does what Dean says. He always will. Dean took his eyes off the road and focused on his brother. He ignored the stoop of his shoulders, the tears filling his eyes.
"I know you aren't okay with this, Sam. If I were you, I wouldn't be either. But I am okay with this. So, you gotta respect that."
Sam nodded and looked down again. Dean shifted his eyes back to the road.
"You know, you can get a life now. Get a girl, get a dog."
Sam smiled at that last remark. But he didn't want any other life, not without Dean.
"I'm serious Sammy. And I'm not saying this as my last will and testament or any of that crap. I'm not saying to even make me a promise, cause we both know that doesn't work. But I'd like—I'd like to imagine you livin' a normal apple pie life. You always said you were gonna retire one day. Well hell if we haven't done our share, ya know?"
"I'll try, Dean. Really."
But now, shot in the leg, Toni or whatever-her-bitch-face was, as she wrapped it with a strip of cloth and cuffed his arms behind his back, now, Sam didn't want to try. It was too much effort. He wanted to die.
"I don't want to kill you Sam," Toni said, as he flinched when she came close to his face. "Just keep you quiet for the road trip ahead," and she pulled out a gag and tied it tight around his mouth. "We need you alive and well, we know you have lots of information about the men of letters, being legacies and all. And we intend to get it out of you."
She pulled out a needle, filled with a clear liquid. Sam tried protesting through his gag, but it didn't matter, she ignored him anyways. She jabbed it into his arm, and slowly the world around him became liquid and his vision ran together in a black flood.
Sam wanted to die. But he didn't think it would be that easy.
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Dean stood in a park, the cool night breeze blowing against his jacket. He was dead, he was sure of it. Because it couldn't be real—could it?
"Mom?" he asked slowly, stepping forward, boot crunching on the grass.
His mom took a step back, her hands up. Her face was contorted in confusion.
Dean took another step closer to—his mother, god he couldn't believe it, a hand out, reaching to her. His chest suddenly lit with a fire, a yearning for her. Something he hadn't felt in 33 years. In one quick motion his mom came forward, lunging at him. He was on the ground on his back, her foot on his neck.
"Who are you?" she asked, fear laced into her words. Her nightgown billowed out behind her. Even here, underneath his Mom's foot Dean saw that she was beautiful. Her green eyes pierced his own.
"Mom, its me. It's Dean."
Mary's foot slowly slid off his neck, but Dean stayed down. "No," she said. "It can't be, because Dean is four. Dean is my baby."
"Mom—what do you remember?"
"A fire," his mother said. Dean slowly inched his way onto his knees. He leaned back on his haunches. Mary's eyes calmed a bit, her fists unclenched. She took a second look at the man in front of her—her son. Could it be? His eyes, there was no denying.
"How do I know it's you?" she asked.
Dean took a breath, tried to remember his mother. "I was named after Deanna, your grandmother. My little brother's name is Sam Winchester. 'cept he's not so little anymore." Dean cracked a small smile at the amusement in Mary's expression, but she still look unsure, so Dean continued.
"Our Dad is John Winchester. Your maiden name is Campbell. You used to be a hunter. Made a deal with a demon called Azazel. The yellow-eyed demon. That's how you died. November 2nd, 1983. He came into Sam's nursery, burned you on the ceiling."
Mary's eyes went dark. She looked down at her nightgown and clenched it in her fists.
"That's impossible, I was just there. In 1983. My god. I died? What year is it?"
"2016, Mom. I'm 37."
Mary shook her head. "No," she said. "It can't be. I've been in heaven all this time? Wouldn't I have remembered—remembered you? Looked out for you, down on you?"
Dean slowly made his way to his feet. His heart clenched at the grief in his mom's voice. She looked right at him, tears in her eyes.
"You probably did, Mom. I'm guessing Amara was the one who brought you back. She said she would give me the thing I needed most—," Dean trailed off and smiled softly. The thing he needed the most. His mom. I guess he always knew, subconsciously.
"But Mom," he continued. "Sam and I have been to heaven plenty of times, and we don't always remember when we come back."
Mary stopped searching Dean's face. Her figure froze. "Heaven? My boys have been to heaven."
Shit. Dean thought. He remembered travelling back in time and meeting young Mary. The worst thing I can think of his having my children raised as hunters.
"It—it doesn't matter," he stuttered. "It's a long story."
Mary shook her head, and pushed back her panic. She took a breath and took a step towards Dean, placed a hand on his shoulder. Dean breathed out a breath he had been holding. His heart expanded and he couldn't help but feel a tear or two fill his eyes. He blinked them away, put a hand on Mary's.
"It's really you? My son." She sounded so proud.
Dean nodded, eyes burning.
"Dean."
Mary pulled him into a hug, and Dean collapsed into her. He let go like he never had in 37 years of life. He felt—taken care of. For the first time in—well, in forever, he guessed. Mary's arms hugged this man—her son and she smiled to herself, tears coming through her own eyes as well. They stayed like that, bodies pressed together, trying to close all distance, time and space that had separated them for so long.
SPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPN
Cas hurt. A lot. He opened his eyes, his body aching. He had never felt great with Lucifer in him, but he hadn't felt this kind of low since he had lost his grace and become a human. What the hell kind of sigil was that? He tried to recall what had happened.
Dean had gone to save the world. Sam and him had driven back to the bunker in silence, he had offered his support. Sam had barely replied. They had come down the stairs, and then there was a flash of blonde hair—a smug smile and then a bright light. The last thing Cas had seen was Sam's panicked face. That lady had blasted him to god knows where. He looked around him. He was in some kind of crater in the middle of the forest. He tried to sense where he was—but he couldn't. He was still low on mojo since Lucifer had left him—or maybe his body just hurt—a lot. He had never seen those kinds of markings for a sigil before. The lady, whatever her name was must have known her sigils, must have known how to blast an angel to god knows where. And how did she get into the bunker? With all the protection. She must have been human. And she seemed to know who Sam was—that there would be angel with him. How much did this lady know about the Winchesters, the men of letters bunker?
Castiel pulled himself up and dusted off his trench-coat, grunting and coughing in the dust of the crater. He didn't know who the lady was, he had to get back to Sam—to protect him. He had promised Dean. And a promise to Dean was one he planned on keeping.
So it's a week before Season 12 of Supernatural and I cannot contain my excitement! This fic is based of spoilers we have gotten, as well as my own imagination. I will try to finish it before Oct. 13th so all my theories are not debunked right away. Anywho, what do y'all think will happen this season?
Gracey xx
