Destiny.
The definition is a bunch of bull. Only 26 letters in the english language, about 1,025,110 words, but the word "Destiny" can't be defined with any of them.
Destiny can only be defined by the stories that it creates.
Destiny is a tale that's too tall to tell. Not even the best writers could formulate a plot like the one that they lived.
A father, too scared to understand that his strength would never be enough to pacify the needs of his family. A boy made a man at four years old, when a fire tore away his mother, house, and innocence. A genius, still just a child, having known nothing but the "Behind the Scenes" of the horror show that is the world.
An age too early to be measured by years was the last that he knew a normal life. Growing up was done before he knew math. Schools were changed, bullies were branded, another town, another hunt. But, still. Classes were aced, a future was imagined, a fate was chased, and an acceptance letter received. He chose ignorance as a disguise and wore it well. But he couldn't hide forever. The fire found him again, but this time, family was found as well as lost.
"We've got work to do."
Then there was the soldier. Four years marked his ignorance to the world of darkness. A veil none could peirce. Loyalty was a question mark covering his heart, his face, his being. He believed he was in the right. A Robin Hood type way of looking at things. Ignoring the deceased in preference to gaze at the souls of the people he saved. Never wavering from the task at hand, he stood by to find his father, a ghost of the man he was supposed to be. Their father leaves and leaves again. Yet again, his infection finds the brothers' wounds only to be cleansed by the shot of a colt and the trading of his soul.
"Whoa, easy, Tiger!"
The brothers paraded the towns of terror that threatened to bleed into the real world. Together, nothing could stand in their way. No monster, no demon, no avenger of souls. It took a fate like no other to bring an angel into their grasp.
A Heavenly servant, obedient to a fault, gave life to the hellion and a soul to the soulless. Destined to be loyal, the programming that controlled him failed to specify who to stay loyal to. A cause with a false pretense? or a Family formed by bond, not by blood? In the end, the answer was obvious. He chose free will. Team Free Will. Though there were conflicts and he, like anybody, would falter, in the end, he chose family.
"And well, isn't that kinda the point?"
Together, they fought whatever came their way. Demons, Leviathans, Wendigo's, even Lucifer himself. When they seemed unbeatable, they proved themselves worthy of praise and pity. Skill, love, and an overwhelming need to continue the vicious cycle of saving each other by risking themselves, saving each other by risking themselves, saving each other by risking themselves, saving each other.
"I need you."
Through chases, dilemmas, running, worrying, Heaven, Hell, Purgatory, Hellhounds, trials, monsters, riddles, ghosts, ghouls, life, death, alliances, and defiances, they have remained. They are a constant. They are the protectors that may fail themselves, but fail nobody else. They are hellions rising in the dark of the day and the bright of the night, the places no one sees. They are, at their most basic form, brothers in flannel and a trenchcoat for good measure.
Don't you see? Destiny doesn't apply to them. Destiny isn't what caused them to find the world, no. Their love for the world caused Destiny.
"Saving people, hunting things, the Family Business."