(A/N: This is dedicated to the wonderfully amazing writers of Supernatural, for giving us that Fan Fiction episode...It made me go back and look on my old writing...and upon reading the first chapter to 'Someone is Watching' I was able to add another, expanding upon some theories I have for the rest of this season. Read and enjoy!)
Aaaah, words in italics are the God figure. THIS ISN'T A RELIGOUS PIECE! It follows Christian principles, because that's what I used to know...but believe me God in this fic is just a matter of expressing the ideas behind it all. Thanks!
Sam's missing soul. The test of Castiel's faith and loyalty when tempted with the power of the Leviathan. Meeting Cain. Even the loss of Dean's humanity, though neither Sam nor Dean realized how deep those roots currently ran. Dean thought he had a lid on it, but he had yet to hit the boiling point. Those poor brothers...they thought they'd experienced loss, but they were only scratching the surface.
"What are we doing, man?" Dean repeated for the hundredth time. "We should be on the move, not cooped up in this damn hotel room. Time for some fucking direction!" The blood moved through his system, pulsing at the mere thought of a hunt. They'd ganked Calliope two days ago and yet here they were, sitting in the same Flint city hotel. The stagnation, though brief was killing him and no matter how he tried, it was getting harder not to show it to Sam.
"You need to rest. That last case was a little close to home, don't you think?" Sam mumbled an automatic response, his laptop open. Every time Dean was close enough for a peek at the screen, it mysteriously minimized into Facebook (though for the life of him, Dean didn't know who Sam talked to on Facebook...) or Solitaire. He had the sneaking suspicion he was scoping cases but keeping his trap firmly shut.
Dean's hand twitched over the switchblade in his pocket. The thirst was rising and he wasn't sure he'd be able to keep it under wraps for long. The human blood had burned against the evil inside him as Sam had tried to fix him. Every vein screamed and protested with every plunge, before he'd had the idea to just make this all go away. He'd have everything he wanted, the power and his only family. So he'd let the black fade from his eyes, as Sammy and Cas had watched on. He'd feigned his foggy memory, batted his eyelashes and he was back in their good graces. It was almost disgustingly easy. The Mark of Cain isn't subdued as simply as any common demon. Part of him was hoping that they'd just killed him, ended the battle within then and there. Now, he just prayed his brother wouldn't know...but if he didn't kill something soon, the anger would begin to lash.
And even then...it was only a matter of time. As night fell, he pretended to sleep and rose as soon as he heard Sam's deep breaths. He cased for kills, trying to convince his brother to jump on anything the Impala could reach. But out of concern for his health and more likely his sanity, Sam kept him moving as slowly as possible.
"We've been through this. I need to work," he said looking out the window. "I've got to make this all right and the only way to do that is by killing every evil son of a bitch I can find...I can't find any in Flint, Michigan."
Sam sat in a stoney silence most of the time. He had a hundred things to say, but no way to even begin speaking to Dean. Any time he had an inkling there was something wrong, he brushed it off and prayed it was just paranoia and not his hunter's instinct. He pretended not to notice the way Dean's eyes flit to every exposed weapon whenever they entered a new room. How he tried not to look disappointed when it was Sam that made the final blow to whatever they were trying to kill. The problem was that he was acting like his brother. That's what he told himself when he heard Dean up at all hours of the night, furiously cleaning his gear or prepping for the next hunt. Their downtime, Sam spent researching whatever he could about the Mark of Cain, with no luck. He looked for lore of humans turned black eye, but there were few cases and they turned out to be rare mentions with no heavy detail. He wanted to believe his brother was back to normal, but after finding those pictures he'd left behind while still surely demon...his faith was wavering.
"Alright, Dean. If you think you're up to it," Sam said, flipping his computer around. "In Kentucky, one Robert Halding was found missing his eyes, his heart and his brain. No sign of injury, but the autopsy don't lie."
The look of relief in Dean's eyes were almost worth the anxiety it brought Sam.
He stood watch over His favorite mortals again. The boys squabbled, the echoes of Dean's secret lost amongst their empty words. And once again, He wished He could step forward and reveal all. Even He hadn't planned things this way. Things had been predetermined...to a point. He had made mortals with their free will, but the angels...their new-found independence had made a mess of the system. The Winchesters; however shitty the situation, were supposed to be dead. He'd even directed their tormented souls up to Heaven several times before it had been made into the laughing stock of the afterlife. But He can't say He isn't pleased they aren't back. They say God doesn't make mistakes or regret His decisions, but that particular predetermination, He had come to resent. He'd never given them a fair shake and his morally-shot legion had made sure to interpret his parting words how they'd seen fit. The only wise decision amongst the bunch had come from His favorite...Castiel. He couldn't wait until the day He revealed himself to the most devout, Castiel the highest amongst them...even if his faith had depleted. He was the only amongst them capable of leading with pure intentions.
The prophet. He would be the key they needed this time around. Like Enoch** who was no more, He had taken Chuck before it was his time...his purpose fulfilled as a prophet. Kevin's untimely demise had brought back his necessity. The knowledge he held would save the brothers and ultimately Dean's soul. He just hoped they listened.
**In the Bible, it is said that Enoch lived three hundred and sixty five years before "he was not, for God took him" making him one of few people in the book who never died, but simply ceased to be because of God's will...like Chuck. While everyone else says Chuck IS God...this is what I'd thought of Chuck to begin with.
Thanks!
Supfan