Disclaimer: As per usual.
SPOILERS: The story will contain spoilers for events up to and including season 5.
A/N: I'm going to do something I thought I'd never do: I'm going to publish a story before I've finished it =8-O
It's 70-80% done, so almost finished! I have 30 chapters written, 7 or so chapters not yet started, and the whole story is plotted, despite needing minor tweaking here and there. I've been hording this one forEVER though. I mean, Jack wasn't even in the show when I started thinking about it, so it's been years :-(
But... If I don't publish now, I probably never will, so here it is. I want to say that I'll update regularly and that I'll finish it soon, but I'm afraid I can't guarantee that.
Story Premise: The story is set around Season 4 and 5, (after the prologue it jumps to 2010, which is about 2008/9 i.e. Season 4 in terms of canon). While it may seem like an AU, it follows canon in terms of lore and character development, and all the characters remains true to form (as far as I'm capable of writing them). Having said that, it's not a re-write of the show, just a What-If sort of thing that will resolve eventually.
Also, you don't need to remember what happened in the show exactly (it's been a while). Hopefully I explain everything that needs explaining to allow the story to flow naturally and understandably. If something isn't clear though, please do point it out, it's probably an oversight on my part and I'm always open to advice.
OK *bites nails anxiously* here goes...
PROLOGUE
Lawrence, Kansas – May 2nd 1973
Time stopped.
At first Mary didn't realise it had happened. She laughed when John seemed to still as though frozen, thinking he were playing a game. But even as the first notes of laughter left her lips, she'd known it was no joke. She'd known, perhaps sooner than most would have done, that there was something terribly wrong.
Her hunter instincts kicked in quickly. Her ears picked up the lack of wind rushing through the trees, the sudden silencing of cicadas. The instant quieting of the car. All this before her laughter had even faltered in her throat.
And her breathing felt so loud. As loud as her heart, beating out her rising dread.
Fear was unavoidable. But fear was an edge. Fear was an instinct. Fear she could deal with. She'd been trained to, after all.
Cautiously, she stepped from the car. She and John were parked in a secluded spot near the water's edge, and he'd been nervous throughout the drive there. She had suspected with tentative hope that the cause for such anxiety may have been his intention to propose that night.
She knew she would say yes.
She sent him a quick glance as she stepped around the car, stopping with her back to his door. Her fists were balled ready for a fight, her senses sharp and keen and as alert as any hunters as she scanned the area, searching for a perpetrator.
That's when she saw them, the shadows within the shadows, the ones that didn't belong.
The woman stepped out first, into the light cast by the moon. She was older than Mary, her hair greying ever so slightly, the subtle birth of wrinkles feathering over her dark skin like the virginal strands of a spider's web, and her movements as she emerged were precise, slow and deliberate. But there was an age about her that somehow spanned much farther than her physical bearing belied. Or so it seemed at first glance to Mary.
And then the serpent, a grotesquely large, unfathomably long, reptilian monster that had lain so still it had masqueraded as the landscape itself, began to slowly slither and move, some hidden part of it slivering through the water's depths, some other part shifting in plain sight. It unfurled itself from around the woman's feet as she walked, the coils hefting and slinking around her footfalls as it unravelled. After a moment Mary realised it had begun to shrink, its dimensions seeming to close in on itself as though its whole form were retracting, morphing, changing in the darkness with indefinable detail, until finally it had assumed a masculine shape, becoming almost humanoid. He towered above the woman by his side, and Mary knew her feeble knife, drawn at some point she hadn't known and now clutched in her hand to match her defensive pose, would be useless against this creature.
She maintained her poise however, her defensive posturing not yielding as she watched the pair approach.
"Hello Mary," the woman greeted, her voice calm and somehow, almost sad. "We meet again."
"We've never met," Mary responded, her fist tightening around the hilt of her knife.
The woman smiled, and again Mary was struck by the undercurrent of imperceptible sorrow that seemed to flow through her.
"No," she replied calmly. "I suppose you wouldn't know that we have. But we have. Over lifetimes."
"What is this?" Mary demanded. "Who are you? What have you done here?"
This time it was the man, if he could be called that, who responded.
"So many questions," he said, his Nordic cadence almost a melodic singsong and carrying none of the woman's solemnity. "And yet with all these demands," he continued, tone not quite mocking yet somehow supercilious. "You've failed to ask the most pertinent one."
Mary felt the hairs on the back of her neck rise in fear at the creature's voice, sensing a power in him greater and more potent than any she had ever encountered before. He tilted his head and smiled, eyeing her as though awaiting a response and she blinked several times, reigning in her sudden terror and forcing her mind to work.
"What do you want?" she asked finally, slowly.
The creature's smile deepened. "That's the one," he said, the words slipping out like a hiss. "What we want, my dear Mary, is to make you an offer. A very generous one in fact."
"Which is?" Mary responded, still wary yet curious now too, despite herself.
"Very soon," the creature explained. "A demon will approach. He will be wearing the corpse of your dead father and he will kill your beloved John."
"My dead–" Mary gasped, the words catching in her throat. "My father's not dead!" she declared. But there was a hesitancy despite her defiance, because she sensed something akin to truth about what the man-creature had so offhandedly told her.
"Oh? But I'm afraid he is," the creature affirmed, the words seeming hollow and contrived despite the alleged sympathy. "That, I will not change. But John, on the other hand… I will help you with that."
"I don't believe you. I don't understand. What demon? What–"
"He's on his way here even as we speak," the creature continued, cutting her off. "And when he pierces this beautiful little bubble we're in, it will burst… along with any hope you may have to save that life you so desperately crave."
"Why would a demon kill John?" Mary demanded, a cold fear gripping her heart at the thought.
"To get you to make a deal."
"What deal?"
"This demon will offer you an exchange. John's life, his resurrection in fact, in return for a seemingly innocent favour. An act that he will paint as inconsequential to you. Oh, but it won't be. So, you mustn't give in Mary, you mustn't accept."
"Why not?" Mary questioned.
"That doesn't matter. But what does is the offer we will make you now. I offer you this, Mary: say no to him, no matter what, and I promise you, I will resurrect John in the demons stead."
"In exchange for what?" Mary demanded, unable to keep the scepticism from her voice despite her fear. "You still haven't told me what you want."
"We want nothing in return from you Mary for doing this, except for you to not accept his deal," the creature eyed her for a moment. "I am not a demon Mary," he said at last, curling his lip in disgust at the notion. "I don't care to make deals for your soul. And our quarrel is not with you. Not directly… All we want is for you to deny the demon what will he ask of you. Nothing more."
"What will he ask?"
"You'll find out soon enough," the creature smiled and it sent a shiver down Mary's spine.
"Why?" Mary demanded again. "If any of this is even true, then why? Why would you care what I do?"
"Oh Mary," the creature sighed as if addressing the wearisome concerns of child. "Even if I explained it to you, you would hardly believe me. Especially if you can't even believe the simple truth I'm telling you now. And after all, you're but a pawn in this game that we've played over lifetimes." He glanced briefly at the woman by his side, before continuing. "All you need to know is that if you agree to what we ask, if you reject the demon, I will repay you. I will show my gratitude by returning John to you and you will have what you want, with no retribution, no hidden conditions, no maliferous subterfuge. You'll have that normal life you so desperately crave. You'll have John by your side, you'll have a family of your own if you so choose, and the memory of this night, of these encounters, they will be nothing more than a distant dream, one that you can't even recall and that you won't even care about in the life ahead."
Mary hesitated. She couldn't bring herself to fully trust this creature that towered before her. Perhaps it was his reptilian airs, or perhaps it was because her mind was racing with the knowledge (and this she did believe) that her father was dead, and that John soon would be too. She knew far too much about the lives hunters lived to not believe in that. And she also knew that there had been talk of a demon, a yellow eyed demon, that her father had been wary of. It was part of the reason she was so desperate to escape with John and leave the hunting life and all that came with it behind. But she was too guarded and suspicious to fully accept or believe that she was being offered a lifeline free of charge. There has to be a catch, her brain riled, if any of this is even true.
"Why should I believe a word you say?" Mary demanded. "If what you're saying is true, why should I make a deal with you? You say you don't want anything, you expect me to believe that? You must have a reason, something you want. What is it?"
"Mary." This time it was the woman who spoke and Mary shifted her gaze, her internal debate momentarily stilling at the woman's quietude. "This demon will kill John. He's done it before. He does so every time. And the price he asks you to pay for John's return, it's more than you would ever agree to, if you truly understood the consequences of your choice. No parent would ever agree to such a thing."
The woman's gaze became distant, her eyes assuming an abandoned, haunted look, and despite Mary's current plight, she felt her own heart twist in compassion for whatever pain resided in this woman.
"You're doing this for love," Mary whispered, the sudden realisation seeming to clarify the woman's motives. "You're doing this to protect… Your children?"
The woman returned her gaze to Mary, the focus she had momentarily lost returning, despite the deep undercurrents of sorrow that still swam in her eyes.
"When you have children of your own, you'll understand the depths of that love," the woman said, a smile that spread only sadness tracing a thin line over her lips. "But by then, for you, it will be far too late."
A tear slipped from the corner of Mary's eye. She didn't fully understand, but for the first time during her encounter with these two strangers, she believed what she was being told.
"We have our reasons for not wanting this demon to get his way with you," the woman continued. "If you accept the demons offer, you will set into motion an outcome you can never undo. But if you accept our offer, if you refuse the demon, our debt to you will be repaid tonight. We will return John's life and your future will be free from all this and that will be the end of it… Or you can cast your lot with the demon and live to only regret that choice. That is all there is. There are no other choices for you here Mary."
"Do you swear?" Mary asked finally, seeking confirmation from the woman. "Do you swear that John will be all right? That if this… this demon kills him, do you swear to me you'll bring him back unharmed? That there'll be nothing else you want from us?"
"I swear." The woman replied simply.
Mary hesitated a second more before nodding.
"All right," she whispered, wiping the tear from her cheek. "All right."
"Wonderful!" the creature intoned, re-joining the conversation and smiling deeply. "Allow us to slink back into the shadows, my dear. And when that yellow eyed miscreant has done its deed, we'll return to keep our end of the bargain. Remember Mary, remain strong. Don't give in. It will all be over before you even know it happened."
Before Mary could respond, the creature clicked its fingers and she was back in the car, John by her side, reanimated and acting as though nothing had occurred. He paused again however when he glanced over to her, concern and confusion marring his handsome, innocent features.
"Are you okay?" he asked, the worry as unmasked in his voice as it was on his face. "Are you crying?"
"No" Mary replied quickly, rubbing at her eye and smiling at him through the fib. "No, just something in my eye."
From the shadows, the two watchers waited patiently as the act unfolded, shrouded by a veil which left them hidden from the world.
"You know she's already agreed to our terms," the creature said to his companion after a while. "Dean hasn't been thrown back to this time."
"Hmm," the woman agreed, making no other comment than that and the creature didn't press her for one. He instead watched dispassionately as Azazel killed John.
"Who would have thought leaving John dead would have created such chaos," he commented, referring to some future the woman was clearly aware of. "An Apocalyptic world where everything died and all hope was lost. It seems if we've learned anything, it's that Sam and Dean Winchester need to exist."
"As long as they don't harm my son," the woman responded. "I have learned to come to terms with that."
"So you're not full of vengeance anymore?" The creature asked, a smile quirking his lips as he glanced at his companion.
"What has vengeance gotten me?" The woman replied, shaking her head. "After reliving variations of all these lifetimes… No. All I want now is my son's survival."
"Ah yes. Survival… But, minn dýrr, do not let your own survival be lost amidst this quest you have undertaken." For once the creature's voice held no note of mocking or derision, sounding instead utterly sincere. He gazed down upon the woman, his face revealing a true fondness for her, and when he spoke again, his voice was gentle, serious, infused with genuine concern. "There is not much more of your soul left to burn. I fear there may not be many more times, if any, that we shall be able to do this."
"Then let's hope, my friend," the woman replied, looking up to meet his gaze. "That this time need be the last." The pair shared a sad smile, before focussing again on the drama that was unfolding before them.
By then, Azazel had played his part and fled. He had vacated Samuel Campbell's body, and both Samuel and John now lay dead in his wake. Mary was crouched in front of the car, her face streaked with tears as she cradled the still warm body of her lover beside the long cold body of her father.
The two voyeurs stepped out from the shadows once more.
"Hush," the creature said to Mary, tutting. "Tears are so unnecessary."
He reached down a hand which easily covered John's face. There was a faint white glow before John took a sudden, deep shuddering breath. Mary gasped, her tears spilling even more as she clung to John.
"My father–"
"No." The creature cut her off. "That is your loss, and one you must live with. Our debt is now repaid."
Mary stared up at him, at both of them, her gaze passing between the two.
"Who are you?" She asked.
The woman shook her head. "You wouldn't know even if I told you. It would be of no consequence to you."
"I, however, claim no such delusions of humility," the creature said smiling. He seemed to grow taller even as Mary looked up at him, and she was aware that he had somehow regained some manner of his reptilian form.
"My name, dear Mary, is Jörmungandr. I may be older than time, and yet time I can wield. And when my time is done, there may be hell to pay. My mother is Angrboða, she who rains desolation and offers misery unto the world. My father is Loki, sower of chaos and mischief and tricks. And I sincerely hope, my dear, sweet Mary, that this time will be the last time that you and I shall ever meet."
Before Mary could respond they were gone and she was left in the cold night, her father dead beside her, but her future held fast and firm and safe in her arms.
-oOo-
To be continued.
So... Sam and Dean should be fine, right? The deal was never made, so they're fine... right?... right?
Oh yes, TBC. TBC A LOT!
The rest of the story is set back in 'normal' time, so it's mainly Sam and Dean for the bulk of it.
Will upload soon.
Hope you all are well out there, wherever you are.
Get in touch if you fancy :-)