Supernatural: Pilot

A/N: Well, it's finally happen; I am now starting a Supernatural fanfiction series. Sigh. I partly blame my sister, Stephanie, who insisted that I catch up on the series when I was staying with her during fall break, and I've just finished season 5, and now I just need to watch the few episodes that there are of season 6. Just as a warning, there will be slight spoilers for the other seasons, too.

Read, review, and enjoy!

Disclaimer: I don't own anything from Supernatural. I just own any and all characters that I just happen create.


PRELUDE: THE BEGINNING OF THE CURSE

A storm raged outside a house in the middle of a junkyard filled with broken-down vehicles; inside the house, a woman sat at a desk covered with papers, old books, and various other items involving the occult and other religions. The woman's hair was long, wavy, and brown that was just starting to gray; her brown eyes revealed her true age, and also an intensity related to years of experience, hardship, lost, and love.

'I can do this,' she thought, opening a journal with a dark blue leather cover to an empty page, and placed her hand, which had a silver Celtic promise ring that had a diamond embedded in it, and several other rings, on a black/silver pen. 'I need to do this.'

She didn't pick up the pen and kept staring at the book page; she jerked slightly when a hand with a slightly darker skin tone, and the owner, a man, whispered into her ear.

"You don't have to do this right now."

She sighed, shaking her head. "No, I need to do this right now, and before it's too late," she stated and looked into his dark eyes. "The truth must be written down for those who survive."

He sadly smiled. "I know," he agreed, and kissed her gently on the lips. "Be strong."

He left her at the desk and she picked up the pen, uncapping it, she put the tip to the paper and began writing.

To those who find this journal, this is the truth of the events that lead to the current state of our world, and why it's now ending. None of this should have happen, but it was destined to be by the ruling of a higher power, and those who serve it. My name is Elizabeth Deanna Winchester, and this is the true story of both the family legacy and the family curse that continues to this day, and now I, my twin brother Dean, and our little brother Sam, failed to save the world.'


22 years ago, November 3, 1983…

It was a quiet night in a neighborhood of Lawrence, Kansas, and in a particular white house, a beautiful woman with long blonde hair, brown eyes, and was wearing a white nightgown, walked into a nursery, carrying her 4-year-old son, who had short brown hair and brown eyes, and her 4-year-old daughter, who had medium-length brown hair and brown eyes.

(A/N: In this version, Dean has a twin sister.)

"Come on, let's say goodnight to your brother," said Mary, setting her twin children onto the floor, next to the wooden crib, which had a six-month-old baby boy lying inside it and was happily cooing.

The boy, Dean, peered over the side and waved. "'Night, Sam."

"Good night, Sammy," said the girl, Elizabeth, kissing him on the forehead, and smiled.

"Goodnight, love," Mary said, kissing Sam on the forehead, too, and just then a tall man with black hair and dark eyes walked in; this was John Winchester, who had just gotten off of work at a nearby auto shop.

"Hey, Dean, Liz," he said at the doorway, getting their attention.

"Daddy!" Dáwn and Elizabeth both exclaimed and ran to their father, who quickly picked them up, laughing.

"Hey, buddy," said John, smiling. "So what do you think? You think Sammy's ready to toss around a football yet?"

"No, Daddy," Dean answered while Elizabeth giggled.

John raised his eyebrows with a look of mock shock and then laughed. "No."

"You got him?" Mary asked, referring to Sam.

"I got him," John assured his wife, entering the room fully and bent over the side of crib, kissing his son on the forehead. "Sweet dreams, Sam."


BEDROOM…

It was nearly midnight and Mary was fast asleep in her bed when she suddenly woke to strange noises that were coming over the baby monitor. "John?" she mumbled groggily as she got out of the bed and left the room.


SAM'S NURSERY…

Barely awake, Mary entered the nursery and saw a figure in dark clothing standing over Sam's crib, and assumed it was her husband. "John? Is he hungry?" she asked sleepily.

"Shhh," 'John' whispered, raising a finger to his lips.

Mary sighed. "All right." And she left the room, returning to the hallway, where she noticed that the lights were flickering strangely; she stopped by a lamp on the wall and tapped it, frowning and now more awake as a feeling of unease filled her.


LIVING ROOM…

Sprawled in a chair, John had fallen asleep watching a war movie on the TV; Mary came downstairs, saw him, and realized that the figure in Sam's nursery wasn't her husband. Now fully awake and fearing for the life of her baby boy, she ran back upstairs, yelling for her six-month-old son. "Sam!"


NURSERY…

MARY ran back in and stopped suddenly at what she was seeing before her fright-filled eyes that was standing between her and her son. "You!"


LIVING ROOM…

John woke suddenly when he heard Mary screamed; jumping to his feet, he ran upstairs, yelling her name. "Mary! Mary!"


NURSERY…

"Mary?" John ran in, and the room was quiet; breathing hard, he looked around and saw that Sam was awake in his crib. "Hey, Sammy. You okay?" he asked as his son whimpered when something wet dripped onto the pillow. Curious, John reached in to touch it, and another drop - of blood - fell on his hand. Terrified, he looked up, and saw Mary plastered to the ceiling, bleeding from the abdomen, and staring open-mouthed at him.

"Mary!" he yelled, and she burst into flames; the fire spreading over the ceiling. Acting quickly, John bundled Sam out of his crib and ran.


HALLWAY…

John ran into the hallway, just as both Dean and Elizabeth came out of their bedrooms, wondering what was going on, and saw the smoke and flames.

"Daddy!"

"Take your brother and sister outside as fast as you can and don't look back," John ordered, shoving baby Sam into his son's arms. "Now, Dean, go!"

Taking Sam, Dean and Elizabeth both ran downstairs and out the front door. John went back into the nursery and saw that the flames were engulfing the room; desperate he yelled for her again. "Mary! Mary!"


WINCHESTER HOUSE…

Breathing hard, both Dean and Elizabeth ran outside, still holding Sam, and then stopped, turning to look at the house.

"It's okay, Sammy," Dean whispered while his sister clung to his arm, both wondering if they were ever going to see their parents alive again.

Just then John came barreling out of the burning house and scooped up both Dean, who was still holding Sam, and Elizabeth, and carried them all to safety. "I gotcha!"


Later that night, the fire department soon arrived and they were putting out the flames, and several gawkers were kept back by the police; on the other side of the street, John was sitting on the hood of the Impala, cradling Sam in his arms, and both Dean and Elizabeth were leaning on either side of him.

In just a few hours the Winchester family lives were turned upside-down and nothing would ever be the same for them again.


'This was the start of the Winchester family curse, and our father became obessessed with discovering the identity of our mother's killer, learning everything that he could about hunting supernatural beings, dashing any hope of us ever having normal lives ever again.'


A/N: Quite a way to start out a story, huh? Of course I'm writing this while handing out candy to kids in costumes, seeing how its' Halloween and all, at the same time. Yes, I know Halloween is really tomorrow, but here in Happy Valley, we hand out candy the day before when it falls on a Sunday. R&R everyone!

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