God's not on any flatbread

“What the hell?!” You kicked the blankets off your lap and jumped out of bed, “Who are you?!” 

When neither of them answered, just nodded to each other and kept their guns pointed at your head, you decided to take matters into your own hands- literally. 

You raised an arm, summoning everything dark and twisted within, and then closed your fist- expecting your veins to turn black from the sudden use of your power. But they didn’t. 

In fact, nothing happened at all. 

You looked at your hands, and then the two men standing in front of you, and tried again. Still nothing. 

It felt like there was a block, something unseen that was shoving your magic back down every time you tried to use it. You’d always struggled to control the darkness, to only let it out in small doses, but this was something different entirely. Deep in your chest, you could literally feel it screaming to get out, to be freed from whatever was holding it back. And, quite honestly, any other day it might have been a relief. 

But not then, not in that moment, because you still had two enormous men standing in the middle of your apartment with guns pointed in your direction. 

“Yeah,” The shorter one smirked, “That’s not gonna work anymore, sweetheart.” 

The taller one finished the sentence, with a glint in his eye you couldn’t quite place, “There’re so many hexes and spells cast over this place- don’t try anything stupid.”

You inhaled, suddenly terrified by the idea of what was coming next, “Who the hell are you?!” 

“My names Sam Winchester, and this is my brother Dean,” The tall one jutted his chin towards his brother, “And we hunt monsters like you for a living.” 

Wait.. ‘Sam Winchester?!’

                                                  One Week Earlier:

“Hell belongs to you, Sam...... you and another as well. Find her, go to her, find her, go to her.....” 

Sam jolted awake from yet another nightmare- every night, always the same for the past year and a half. There was a hooded figure, dressed in black with a willowy frame, calling out to him night after night. Sleep had never been his forte, but this was getting unbearable. 

At this point, Sam knew he wasn’t going to go back to sleep, so he stumbled into the kitchen and found his computer instead. Hunts had been lazy, slow, nothing more than quick salt and burns without any action for the past few weeks. And he knew that both him and Dean were itching for some action, in all honesty it was driving them nuts.  

When the two of them were alone, with nothing better to do, they seemed to focus on reality a lot more than usual. And, at that point in time, reality was god damn insanity. 

This was entirely due to Sam, and these strange abilities he now possessed. At first they were just visions, headaches and nothing more, but these visions started coming true. He’d see supernatural deaths before they happened, every single time. 

However, it was more than that- there were parts of it Sam hadn’t dared tell Dean. These parts were buried deep, but still were there, and the younger Winchester felt them calling to him every day. They whispered and whorled somewhere beneath his chest, and made the darkness feel inescapable. Like it was some form of fate even he could not cheat. 

                                                       The Present

Sam felt his finger tremble over the trigger of his gun, as if for the first time in his life he couldn’t bring himself to pull it. To shoot the barefoot girl standing in front of him in skimpy pajamas. 

But it wasn’t because of the way she looked, frozen there with her hand held up to stop them, there was something else about her as well. He’d called her a monster, but that had just been a front. In truth, when he looked into those night-black eyes, he felt a tug. A kindredness he’d never felt before in his life, not even with his brother. Or Jess. 

There was something about this girl, who looked to be around his age, maybe a little bit younger, that made him think twice. He could feel the parts of himself that he'd been running from wake up once more- those dark and glittering parts that now felt like a beast in his stomach. Pick her, she’s the one, she’s yours, they seemed to chant. 

Weeks before, he and Dean had pegged this case for a witch, and a god damn powerful one at that. The omens were everywhere: fires, earthquakes, storms, power outages- this girl had single handedly wrecked the city of Chicago. 

But now, staring at her from across the barely lit bedroom, Sam knew she wasn’t a witch. He didn’t know how, he just knew she was something else entirely. Something special- he just didn’t know if that was a good or bad thing yet. 

So, he tried, and failed, to follow his brother’s example- standing there with his face a mask of deadly serenity. He couldn’t bring himself to lower the gun, but he also knew he could never bring himself to pull the trigger. 

Over the years you lived and learned more about this power inside you. 

You learned that it didn’t make you special, it didn’t make you stand out or blend in or anything of the sort. It made you a freak. It made you lash out and lean more and more towards the ‘darkness’ you remember first being beckoned towards when you were 9 years old. You learned that you could read thoughts, make things move with your mind, and that sometimes your eyes turned black and flecked with stars. 

It had only happened a few times in front of the mirror, but you’d never forgotten the sight of them. It looked like your pupils were leaking, spreading an inky black and eventually gobbling up the white of your eye. Then white dots started to twinkle within them, and you’d always thought they looked like stars. 

That was the only aspect of your abilities you didn’t think was evil- the night sky that sometimes shown in your eyes. Everything else was wrong, everything else you despised, except for those ethereal stars. Because, how could something so beautiful be evil? None of it really made sense. 

Growing up you’d been on your own, driving from city to city in a stolen car and trying to control your powers whenever you could. You stole, and cheated and lied, yet still tried so hard never to give in to that dark part of you. 

Half of you felt lost, and the other felt right at home using your powers for personal gain. In fact, that half whispered do it, over and over until you thought you were crazy. So, you went through life aimless, with no sense of self other than the fact that you were different. 

But then, when you were 19, everything finally clicked. 

That day you were reading a book on Greek Mythology, just flipping through its pages and getting lost in a world you thought could never be your own. You’d always loved to read, and, even though you hadn’t gone to school, you still had read almost every book any library had to offer. 

So there you were, sitting in a quiet corner of Phoenix’s local book store, and reading chapter after chapter of a book called D’aulaire’s Greek Myths. It was a normal, rainy and dreary day, nothing out of the usual at all. Except, when you got to the chapter on Hades, the God of the Dead, something within you changed for the second time in your life. 

Hades, when you read the name it made you shiver and then look around to see if anyone had noticed. Upon making sure you hadn’t drawn any attention to yourself, you delved back into the paragraph. 

“Hades was one of the most powerful Greek gods, rivaled only by his brothers, Zeus and Poseidon. He ruled the Underworld and had control over the dead and riches, and had some power over the earth as well.” 

Another shiver, and your felt yourself mesmerized by the page, by the idea of a God named Hades and an Underworld. Something deep and dark within you seemed to wake up as you read the paragraph over and over, focusing on the words and what they meant. 

You’d only felt like that once before- when you were 9 years old and discovered your powers for the first time. So, if that was when you discovered what you could physically do, this was when you discovered yourself. It was unexplainable, but when you looked at the poorly sketched pictures of Hades in the book, you knew there was a connection. 

For the next year and a half your magic would go out of control, and you'd have the same dream every night. Your sleep would be plagued by a masked figure, and more often than not you woke up in tears. 

“Come with me...... come find me....” He’d say, crooked mouth stretched out into a grin that didn’t leave your thoughts for days. 

The message was the same, every goddamn night it was the same. The man was telling you to find him, to go with him.... whatever that meant. 

The chapter of your life that followed was when you lost control. You had no idea what the dreams meant, only that they were directly connected to your magic and never changed. That year and a half of sleepless nights turned you into a ghost, a slave to whatever this darkness deep within wanted. And, more often than not, it wanted to steal, or kill, or use your powers to wreak chaos.   

The magic was like a drug, the more you used the more you wanted. Everything became blurred, and you found the figure in your dreams started to look more and more like you each night..... 

Until, on your 20th birthday, the dream changed. 

“Fine,” The figure said, sucking in a breath, “If you won’t come with me.... then go to him.” 

And for the first time in a year, you were able to respond, “Go to who? What are you talking about? What do you want?!” 

“Hah,” A dry laugh, “It’s simple, I want you.” 

“What does that mean?!” 

“I want you to rule, and if you won’t do it with me, then you’ll do it with him.” The figure cackled and finally took off its mask, revealing its face for the first time in years. 

What you’d assumed was a man haunting your dreams, wasn’t a man at all. In fact, it was you. 

You saw what you could only assume to be that dark part of yourself standing before you- eyes flicked black and lips set into a bloodless smile, “Surprise, bitch.” 

You stumbled back, this dream felt too real.  

“I want you to rule like you were born to do,” Your dream-self took a step towards you and continued, “Find a man named Sam Winchester, and rule with him if you refuse to do it with me.” 

“I-I-” Your mouth moved like a fish on land, but nothing seemed to come out, “I-I-I...” 

“Oh,” Your hooded self took another step, “And stop trying to fight me. Stop trying to be this good person you know you’ll never be..... I’m in you (Y/N), you were born with me, and one day.... one day I’ll win out.” 

Before you could response your eyes snapped open, and the dream was over.