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The Supernatural characters belong to Kripke Enterprises and the CW, not me. No money is being made from this story. It is for entertainment only.
Star Born
Chapter 1
How It Began
Once there were a couple of Hunters. Not the kind that shoot deer or moose or ducks but Hunters of the Supernatural. They were brothers, raised in the life by their slightly deranged Father. Their father, John Winchester, had started out in life as a completely normal, kind young man who fell in love with the wrong woman. Mary Campbell was the love of John's life. She was pretty, intelligent, kind and cursed.
Mary came from a long line of people involved with the Supernatural. When John met Mary he was a former Marine who simply wanted to be a mechanic and raise a family with his beloved Mary. A normal, everyday type of guy he had no idea that Mary, who claimed to want the same things, could never be normal. When you are cursed from birth there is no escape. You can't break a curse you can only get out of its way. Mary thought she could run.
She found out one night that there was no escape. Once hell had your scent it came after you no matter how you dodged and ran. She traded away the future to rescue John from death and ten years later hell came to collect its due. Her baby son was forfeit.
She tried to break the deal and died, roasted on the nursery ceiling in full view of John and her sons. She should have known better. You can't break a curse you only can get out of its way.
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The boys were named Dean and Sam, after their Campbell grandparents, Samuel and Deanna. Sam was six months old when Mary was killed and shortly after that John was introduced to the supernatural by a local psychic. John lost his footing in reality then and started dragging his children all over the country, looking for the monster that destroyed his perfect life.
He drank to sleep, he drank to get up and face another day. The only relief for him was killing every supernatural being he met along the way. It never occurred to him that the most supernatural beings he would ever find were growing up in the back seat of his car.
Sam and Dean looked normal. They were unnaturally beautiful for little boys and later men. They were also faster, smarter and more violent than any children they met on the roadways and highways they were dragged down. They never stayed anywhere for long. John was constantly uprooting them to chase his next 'hunt'. They didn't dare form attachments or make friends because they never knew from day to day when they might just disappear.
They only had each other and their father's car as constants in their lives and their worlds revolved around each other. The attachment grew as they aged to a point where one could not be out of the sight of the other, as was only natural. They were the two sides of a single soul, two parts of one living being. They were incomplete and bereft if one was kept away and they could not stay dead.
If one were to die the other would follow shortly thereafter. It had happened over and over, in other lives, on other worlds. They were the universe's perfect soul mates, an essential key in keeping the universe in balance. Without them a basic strand of reality would snap and reality would unravel like pulling a loose thread on a sweater.
This was the curse passed down through their bloodline, a direct line back to the original creation.
Then John Winchester married Mary Campbell and the curse buried in the Winchester bloodline was added to the curse of the Campbells. The perfect soul mates were also the perfect angelic vessels and heaven began to pay attention.
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"Where are you now, brother?" Dean slipped on to the balcony and wrapped himself in his brother's long arms.
"I dream of Egypt." Sam replied, rubbing his cheek against Deans' hair.
"I see us sleeping in each other's embrace, in our sun boat, gliding among the river's reeds."
"The Southern wind rattles the reeds and the current of the Nile rocks the boat. Ra's disk rises and we come to the end of another night's voyage. We greet again Ptah, the Disk of Heaven, who illuminates the world with the fire of his eyes. "
"Our hearts have been weighed on the scales of Anubis in the presence of Renenit, Meskhenit and Shai and we are judged pure and come back to the kingdom of day. The city awakes with us and we begin again."
Dean laughs lightly. "It was your favorite life, wasn't it?"
"We danced and loved and walked among men unafraid. We were as gods and none dare touch or even look at us. What was there not to like?" Sam sighed.
"Yeah, well you didn't have to go around with a damn basket, finding pieces of your lover. That wasn't fun, "huffed Dean.
"Yes, but the resurrection was glorious and we live forever in the memories of men. It brings us to this point as centuries pass. Don't sulk." Sam sighed again and pulled Dean in snugly and kissed the side of his neck. "What do your dream of, my love? Where in time do you dwell?"
"Remember Arcadia?" Dean answered, "The sun on the ocean waves and the colors running up the mountain side; light chasing night away. We were as children, playing in the fields. That place stays with me. No men, the earth was new and fresh. No gods, just us and laughter. Why not there instead of Egypt?" Dean murmured.
"It was the perfect garden, yes'. Sam whispered, "but you did not love me yet."
"Not true. I have always loved you." Dean replied.
"There was no depth, no shade, to our love," objected Sam. "It was all bright, shiny and soft. I cried out for more and we left the garden behind. If you did not feel it, why did you follow me?"
"You know why I followed you. I would sooner abandon myself than you." Dean replied, "Are we going to go on mooning about on this balcony or are we going to see what this day holds?"
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So they grew and began their own lives, John cast away, expended as unimportant, his function fulfilled. Dean mourned the man while Sam rejoiced that John was dead. There came an adventure in time when the soul mates traveled back to prevent the death of John and Mary before the brothers were born. Dean fought the plans of angels and Sam fell in battle.
The archangel Michael came to Dean to negotiate for Dean's body as he was Michael's so called perfect vessel. Michael said he only wanted to talk and after their conversation he promised Dean to bring back "your darling Sammy". The archangel was so convinced that he knew all, he controlled all, that the plan as laid out by his creator was working its way out perfectly, that he never really looked at the creature in front of him.
Michael could not see that Death had already punched Dean's ticket. Every moment the Sam did not breathe Dean stepped closer to the edge of the cliff. Once he went over, he would go with his brother and they would become something new.
In the universe's scheme of things the Archangel was just a bit player. His desire for the perfect vessel which would enable him to fight his own brother as enclosed in Samuel was a minor inconvenience on one small world in a minor galaxy and Death laughed at the plans of God.
So the Winchester brothers lived and learned and loved each other. They fought off the apocalypse, the most terrible of Hell's demons, and the most self-righteous of Heaven's angels and went on. They fought and won against The Mother of All. They defeated the Leviathans, creatures so depraved that God's only answer had been to lock them away before they ate all the fish in God's aquarium. They battled Ezekiel, an Angel so old he had witnessed the fall of Eve's apple. Still no one thought to challenge the humanity of the Winchesters.
In the end of that life they lay down together under the stars in one of the vast deserts of the Earth and died, locked together in a dream of water and wild oceans. Where ever they were bound they hoped only that there would be time enough to love again. To see new mountains, to learn new stars ,to pass through time hand in hand, that was a version of heaven to the immortal brothers.
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I found you outside Leningrad; asleep in the snowy field. Your face, a crystalline mask of glittering shards, was white and still; your lips so blue. Your eyelashes traced a sparking path, resting on the cold, quiet skin.
I am so sorry you died alone. I would rather have been here when your last breath coalesced and fell as frost upon your cheek, but I ran and hid from the German guns upon the battlefield, selfishly deciding to live in hope of finding you again.
But here you are, gone on without me.
Please, no more snow, no more black, freezing nights under a sky alive with the cruelest stars of all. They are so sharp, so clear, no comfort there. I crave the summer skies, wrapped in your arms beside the pulsing sea.
Do you remember Angkor Wat, my love? We climbed the winding stair, our fingers tracing out the sacred carvings, as the jungle birds flew above us, screaming out their names. Panting and sweating we finally reached the top of Mount Meru, the sacred mountain, and Vishnu allowed us rest
I will lie here beside you with my head upon your quiet breast and wait for the snow and cold to take me with you. I promise I will not leave. We will be a single, frozen sculpture; asleep upon the blood drenched ground.
When we awake again, let it be in grassy fields. A yellow sun, rolling through the sky will warm our naked skin. No more cold, no more touch of frost. Leave the memory of bloody snow only in our fevered dreams
So we travel through time together, always finding one another, bound together in an eternal love, reflected in each other's eyes.
Now I will sleep in winter's embrace and wait for better days.