if I fall I leave behind me a name that endures - SN ficlet - PGish

[tigriswolf]

To celebrate having seen Watchmen, I post a dangerous!Winchesters fic. *hee*

Title: if I fall I leave behind me a name that endures
Fandom: "Supernatural"
Disclaimer: the Winchesters aren’t mine. Title from Gilgamesh.
Warnings: AU
Pairings: John/Mary
Rating: PGish
Wordcount: 600
Point of view: third

 

They could be so very dangerous. Everyone sees it: the feral edge, the darkness in their eyes, the ease with which they lie to everyone, and even themselves.

Oh, they could be so very dangerous. The four of them slink in the darkness, brandishing silver and iron and lead, leaving corpses and blood in their wake—

But they only ever kill evil, their defenders say, taking up the chorus whenever some talk of going to the authorities. Their methods are dangerous, their few friends admit. But don’t they get the job done?

And the whiners are sated, for awhile. But there is always something new, some way they fight that a few are bothered by, and the talk starts again.

You won’t see them ’til they strike, if then, the legends say. Get in their way and they’ll kill you. They won’t feel guilt. They only feel rage and hatred, and an insatiable need for vengeance.

They could be so very dangerous, even their friends whisper. If they ever turn on us. If they ever decide that hunting the dark isn’t enough. But what can we do?

None have the skill to take them out, so they can only wait, the naysayers and the frightened friends; they can only wait for the fire burning within them to destroy them from the inside out.

Even the reapers fear them, their allies say. Death will never take them.

And they are so very dangerous, eyes turned to their prey, knives sharp and guns cocked, mother and father and sons. Scarred by fire, angered by threats, never the same after that smoke-filled November night.

That demon didn’t know what it did, the historian of the hunters says, fingers clutched around a sweating mug, spilling beer as he drinks. It didn’t have a fuckin’ clue. That woman, Mary Winchester—shit, she’s scary. Only kid of Samuel Campbell, you know. Heard of him? He shudders, gesturing for a refill. It should’a left her alone. And the husband, John! Damn, he was a marine, with files so locked you gotta be the president to even look at ‘em, and the fuckin’ demon went after them? They’d just been married about five years before, with two kids. And the demon! Such a stupid fuck. It attacked them in their home. How dumb can you be? He appeals to his audience. Honestly, how dumb can you be? Pretty fuckin’ dumb.

They have no homebase, nowhere anyone can name. They slip in and out of towns like the ghosts they hunt, silent and deadly, mother and father and sons.

And the kids! the historian says, giggling, almost too drunk to see. Holy shit, those boys of theirs! Fuck, if I had to choose between them and Satan himself, I’d go with old Lucifer. Shit. If their parents are scary, those kids could frighten Hell. He looks around with furtive eyes, nearly falling off the stool. Those boys, Dean and Sam—named for Mary’s parents. Apt names. They—He shudders again. Can we talk about somethin’ else? he asks, and the conversation turns.

They are dangerous. They only go after evil, but anything that gets in their way is fair game, and they care only for each other. To insult one is to insult all, and they are indiscriminate when infuriated.

Stay the fuck away from the Winchesters replaces If it’s supernatural, we kill it as the hunter creed and they all wait for word.

And the steel-eyed woman with her men of iron stalk the night, not caring who gets in their way, uncaring who is hurt or killed.

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[tigriswolf]

Thank you for reading!