Somehow, Dean had always known about the supernatural. He didn't remember how or why or when he began to notice things but Dean knew that it was before his mom died.
He could remember speaking to the fairies that lived in Mom's garden and the old gnome who taught him how to tie a knot that no one else could undo. There was also a family of wisps, small, quarter-sized, furry creatures who ate soot, that lived in the fireplace.
His parents probably thought the four-year old was having conversations with himself when Dean was really speaking to a mythical creature.
Dean remembered vividly the day the fairies disappeared and the wisps vanished. Richter, the gnome, told him that something bad was coming. A demon. The scraggly creature whispered words into his ear "Olapireta bolape emna" He said.
"Say this to the demon when he comes and he will not harm you. Dean remembered staring with wide eyes and nodding.
"Be a good boy and watch out for that brother of yours, he will need you."
"Okay. I will take care of Sammy." His blue eyes filled with dedication and love for his sibling.
The gnome nodded gruffly. Shouldering his pack, he turned to the east.
"You'll find me if you need me." He stated and without waiting for a response, he promptly disappeared.
That night was the night Mary Winchester was killer, pinned to the ceiling and burning to death. Dean had been awake, sitting in bed, stimulated by the anticipation that something was going to happen. The moment he heard his mother scream, he was out and sprinting to his brother's room. When he got there, he couldn't see his mom but the demon was there.
"Hey!" he shouted. "Leave him alone" When it turned, the yellow eyes made his blood run cold but he just glared.
"Leave my brother alone." He demanded. The yellow eyes flickered in amusement and a hand reached out toward him.
"OLAPIRETA BOLAPE EMNA!" He cried. The demon froze in shock just as Dad ran into the room. A moment later, he disappeared in a burst of shadow.
"Mary?" John whispered, staring at the ceiling. Dean glanced at her body before running to the crib and snatching Sam out and bolting out the door. Dean did not stop running until he was outside next to the car. Then he turned and watched as the window exploded and the house burst into flame.
That had been over a decade ago. The Winchesters became hunters, killing the supernatural and the monstrous. After that night, Dean didn't speak to anyone except for Sammy for nearly 2 years. At least, he didn't speak to humans.
Every time John went out hunting and left Dean alone, he would speak to the local fairies. He learned their lore and histories and many languages. At times, Dean felt more at home with the mythics than he ever did with humans.
They were the only thing that prevented him from breaking under the stress of caring for Sammy while trying to reel in John. John who had bolted the moment he realized that Sam had left for college. He had left Dean without a word, Sam at least said goodbye before he vanished, leaving Dean alone with his broken mind.
Luckily, he wasn't alone for long. Dean had just returned from a hunt and was unlocking the door to the room he had rented at the Red Sparrow Motel when he noticed he was not alone. Cautiously, he reached behind him and pulled out his handgun before spinning and aiming the barrel at his pursuer. For a moment, Dean stared blankly at who he saw but the he dropped his arm with a sigh.
"Jesus. Pete, you are lucky I didn't shoot you." The gangly, freckled, redhead in front of him laughed in response.
"You'd never shoot me Deano" He grinned, showing of his shining pearls. Despite the smile, Dean knew immediately that Peter was covering up something terrible.
The hunter rolled his eyes and stuck the gun back in his waistband. He pushed open the creaky door and gestured for the mythic to enter.
"What happened?" Dean asked, not wanting to waste any time.
The cheerful facade immediately melted.
"Something bad, really bad."
"What?"
"You have noticed the recent decline in our appearances, yes?" He waited for the nod.
"Something had been draining our power. Morgana thinks its demons, so do most of the Folk, you know cause of the increased activity lately, but I know demons. This is something much worse. Richter agrees. He thinks the Devil himself is getting involved."
Dean frowned. Morgana is like the mother to all the mythics. He had only met her once but could easily recall the power that women wielded. Unlike the myths, she was not a fragile lady who happened to be blessed by magic. Morgana had broad shoulders and a muscular build. She stood over six feet when she spoke, her deep voice commanded attention. Morgana fought for centuries as a warrior before she crossed the plane to earth and took charge of the mythics who had been dying out before her interference.
Despite her masculine appearance, Morgana could never be mistaken for a man with her gentle smile and motherly eyes.
Rickter, on the other hand, Dean had always been close with. For the past six hundred years, he had worked hand in hand with Morgana in concealing the sight of mythics from humans. They had been successful except for the occasional unexplainable shadow of glimpse that some humans with clear sight caught out the corner of their eye. And, of course, Dean.
Richter had taken the task of observing the small boy who was immune to all the illusions and spells that had been in place for centuries. In the process, they had become great friends.
"I really hope it is demons. Demons I can deal with. The Devil coming…. That just spells disaster for everything." Pete nodded in agreement.
"Richter sent me to find you. We need your help on some supernatural stuff."
"What kind of stuff?" Dean questioned.
"Dunno, they didn't tell me." With a shrug of his shoulders, Pete dismissed it even though he was clearly bothered. Dean frowned, they normally told Pete why they sent him to find people. It must be really bad if they were not willing to tell him
"Alright. We leave in the morning."