Title: Modern Myth
Beta: OhSlashy
Notes: If anyone would like to volunteer to be my beta, that would be awesome! Anyway, this is my second Supernatural Fic (I haven't posted the first one yet, working out the kinks) and i'm excited! Its AU so expect discrepancies and slash pairings!
"These are the lies I have created…"
He was leaning against his sleek car, a 1967 Chevy Impala, his legs stretched out in front of him. A long sigh escaped his lips as he looked towards the building in front of him. A college dorm, he said to himself, so this is what they look like. He scoffs. Pure arrogance and money bought this; I could make five or six houses on this land! He chewed on his lower lip, anxiety biting at his nerves as he waited for his brother to pack his things so they could ditch this joint. But his brother, always the more sentimental one, was probably saying good-bye to his girlfriend and all her teddy bears. Laughing to himself, he looked around the campus and shivered. It looks like a ghost town, he said to himself. Why would anyone want to live in a school, anyway?
"Finally!" He exclaimed when Sam came down the stairs, a pack slung over his shoulder and a grimace on his face. "Why the long face?"
"I don't know, Dean," his kid brother replied sarcastically. "I just dropped out of school, ditched my girlfriend, and broke off our engagement because my big brother said so."
Dean pushed himself off the front bumper and opened the door. He looked at Sam, his bright young eyes already marred by bags that he'd caused by dropping back into his life. But this was important, life or death, it was more important than a stupid degree or some silly engagement. He said nothing; he got in the car, clicking the passenger seat open and waited for it to slump as his gigantic brother to got in.
Finally, Sam opened the rusty door and got in. He sighed loudly, which Dean ignored, and threw his bag over his shoulder to the back seat. Dean began to drive, loving the sound his car made with each mile they passed. The 'vrooooom!' of the engine never got old, no matter how many times she'd broken down. The Impala was his baby; he cared for her like his child. Something that Jason could never understand so he blared the radio loud.
"Are you making me listen to classical music?" Dean asked when Sam stopped on one station, pulling back his arm with a smile on his face. "C'mon, Sammy, Classical music in my car? Really?"
"It's Mozart," Sam replied as if that explained everything. Dean reached over, never taking his eyes off the road and put in a cassette.
"AC/DC," he told his brother as the music blared from the speakers. "Baby, here, loves it!" He stroked the cars dash gently, as if caressing a small child.
Sam rolled his eyes, giving him his best bitch face and turned away from him to stare at the window. By now, they were on their way out of the city. Buildings replaced by homes, which in turn where replaced by long abandoned buildings, which turned to prairie fields. It lulled Sam; Dean could see his head bobbing between sleep and consciousness. With a sacrificial act, Dean turned down his music (even if Back in Black was coming up) and let Sam have peace and quiet. They would need it in the days to come.
"Sleep, Sammy," he said reaching over to ruffle his brother's long locks of brown hair.
They arrived on time - well, close enough to their appointed meeting with their father in some hick town in the middle of nowhere. Dean drove all night, not daring to sleep in a car in one of the dirt roads they had to travel in. Sam had slept all night, his soft snoring waking Dean up whenever he felt his eyes closing. But they were finally here, only a few minutes away from seeing their father. The father Sam hadn't seen in almost five years and the father that had abandoned Dean one day to chase after the Yellow-Eyed Demon. Dean saw nothing but the man who he shared half his DNA with - his brother, however, saw nothing but the man who had told him to leave and never come back.
Dean was nervous. This was the first time in half a decade that Sam had seen their father. After Sam had left, deciding school was more important that family, his father had left too. At the time, Dean thought that he'd gone after Sam but eventually, after a call from his little brother saying he got to school alright, he knew something was up. Later on, his father arrived drunk and happy, a woman clinging to his left arm. He was close, John told him later that day, I almost got the bastard!
But the happiness didn't last because soon, the woman turned up dead and his father was the last person who she'd been seen with. They all knew who'd done it but no one would believe that a demon with yellow eyes had possessed someone and killed the woman in hoped of stopping John from pursuing him. If it weren't his life, Dean wouldn't have either.
But that was a long time ago, Dean forgave his father for bailing long before that. Even if his father hadn't requested to meet them, he would've one day found him and just hugged him. He loved his father, hated him for what he did, but the love was there too.
They approached the worn down diner/bar with caution. There were no cars parked in the front, except for the Impala, and the whole place looked empty. They were, as far as they could see, the only people around for miles. In the back of his mind, Dean thought this could be a trap until the door slammed open and his father stepped out.
John walked out of the one floor building, hand raised up to shield his eyes from the blaring sun. Before Dean even took a breath to make sure this wasn't just a hallucination from his sleep deprivation, Sam rushed out and embraced their father. Arms wrapped around one another, John mumbling things to the tall man's shoulder; they looked like some awful chick flick scene. Dean jogged to catch up, waiting for his father to pad Sam on the back and hug him. But the hug never came, his brother and father remained locked in an embrace for longer than he thought possible. Okay sure, it had been longer since he'd seen Sam and he had made it to college at an early age but Dean was his oldest son! That had to count for something, right?
"Dad…" he whispered out hoarsely. "Dad…"
Finally they disengaged and, after a pat on the cheek for Sam, John looked towards his oldest with proud eyes. Green eyes filled with unshed tears, his arms wrapping themselves around his father's big frame tightly. John laughed in his ear softly, his whiskers tickling Dean's neck as he spoke.
"You have to kill him," his father said into his neck.
I'm thinking about doing three to five episodes per season so any episode request?
