AN: This epilogue is very different from the rest of the story, but I hope you enjoy it! If not, just pretend the previous chapter is the last one.
The next "chapter" is nothing but the prompt from Jenjoremy that started this entire thing.
Thank you for reading!
* * *
Nighttime sharpens, heightens each sensation
Darkness stirs and wakes imagination
Music of the Night by Andrew Lloyd Webber
* * *
Night is not evil. She is not good. She just is.
The only child of the Darkness and mother of Sleep, Prophesy, Death, and many more, she was bound by neither time nor space. Even at high noon under the brightest sunshine, she lingers in the deep shadows and behind every closed lid.
Humans often, foolishly, fear her, forgetting that while the night is home to thieves, it was also the time for lovemaking. Evil might use her for its own designs, but she also brings visions and inspiration. Most humans might prefer the day and miss out on her more subtle beauty, but that is because they forget that the day can only offer you one sun while the night can offer you thousands.
Although she was not concerned with and did not need worship like the denizens of younger pantheons, Night (or Nyx, or Nox, or Kauket, or Nótt, or many other names) was generous with those who left her true offerings.
When the Tatars, with tears, sacrificed the first black foal of the season to her, she granted extra swiftness and strength to every other foal born that season. Few Greeks worshipped her truly, though even Zeus feared her, but those who did received gifts of wealth or protection. They did not get her attention or presence. There were many places in the universe, and the Earth was just one little corner.
Very few people spoke any of her names any more, and fewer still left offerings. The only ones were the rare Hunters who knew how to defeat an oneiroi, and she always honored their requests, for Hunters ate creatures of the night too. But she didn't put much of her attention on humans even then.
Yet, this latest offering had caught her attention. There were two who spoke it, and she could hear their unspoken plea. Please protect my brother.
She had heard many of these pleas, but they were always save me, help us, never leaving the petitioner out of the request.
They were sincere, too. To each man, his own fate paled in importance compared to the fate of his brother. Nyx listened, and took their offering, though of the silver she took such a small amount as to go unnoticed, for the ring itself was beloved and it was not the younger man's to give away. She forbade the ornieroi from entering their great, dark beast of a car, and once it was weak, dragged it into the aether so the men could live.
Nyx turned her attention away again.
But strangely, Nyx kept thinking about the two unusual humans. She had blood and hair from one and part of something the other loved, so she allowed her Farsight to look at them.
The future is in constant motion and even she cannot read it like a book, but what she saw was...extraordinary. The men confounded the fates and danced with death. They wrestled with gods and defied all odds.They were born of the night and Hunted confidently through her darkness. And always, always, they were entwined.
Nyx felt an interest she'd never known, and went back to Earth.
Animals fell silent as a blackness too profound for description swirled around the beast that the brothers rode around in. The vehicle pleased Nyx, with its smooth lines and powerful heart, and its shiny, nearly black as night skin that reflected her stars.
Nyx touched the car for one split second. In that moment, she put her mark on it. No Winchester would ever die within the car. As for the beast herself, well, Nyx may have left the tiniest sliver behind, an iota of consciousness, a molecule of awareness. And this dictum whispered on the breeze: protect them.
Pleased with her work, Nyx left to visit her favorite child. He had been kept from Earth for many years, and she thought Death just might like to hear about the Winchesters.
* * *
Slowly, gently, night unfurls its splendor
Grasp it, sense it, tremulous and tender
Turn your face away from the garish light of day
Turn your thoughts away from the cold, unfeeling light
And listen to the music of the night
* * *
AN: I could have quoted the entire song of Music of the Night because it matches the feel I was going for so well, but it's long and I didn't want to bore anybody.
There, I wrote a little more on the Nyx mythology which fascinates me, gave my explanation regarding the Winchesters' survival when they were t-boned by the semi, and even why Chuck didn't / couldn't do much to Baby. And I even laid a little groundwork for Death showing interest in the boys. :-) Totally indulgent on my part.
Jenjoremy: I hope warm and gooey is a good thing. :-) And I'm glad you liked that line...I get all warm and gooey when the boys call each other brother for whatever reason.
BruisedBloodyBroken: Thinking of you! So, maybe you're like a later Crowley -- pretending to be tough but with a big soft spot for the boys and schmoop! FWIW, I love Crowley. I won't tell anyone about *whispers* your secret love of schmoop.
Timelady66: Yes! Yes to everything you wrote. I love the moment that Bobby shoots Lucifer/Sam and just kind of shrugs like worth a try. He knew he was going to die but he went there anyway. Yup, all heroes. Too bad not one of them sees themselves as anything special. Or listens to their own advice!
Long live BRUCAS: Aw, I love that! Hopefully they did some growing. I feel like the boys did a lot of growing in the first few seasons.
Janice: I'm glad you're still around. :-) It's a shame when RL interferes with reading time. If I were independently wealthy, I'd turn into Megatron and do nothing but read. (I would not, however, kick all of the angels out of heaven.) I'm happy that you liked the memories...I was really looking forward to writing that part because I adore Weechesters.
supernaturalsammy67: Thrilled that you liked it! You're welcome in schmoopcity with me any time...I think I'm moving in permanently. And thank you!
muffinroo: What? You like schmoopification? I had no idea! I love the boys in sync too. That may be why I write so much early stuff. Also, baby faced Winchesters.
Christine: Yay! I'm glad that you don't find the inner monologues boring. I'd say poor Bobby for being the recipient of so much snark, except that he can dish it out too.