Supernatural Fan Fiction ❯ Out of the Mouths of Babes ❯ Prologue ( Prologue )

Disclaimer: Don't own `em. Wish I did. I don't even own the kid—he's a character of my friend Mandy, who wanted me to write a Boyz crossover with him in it.

 

Characters: John, Sam, and Dean Winchester, and also an OC

 

Setting: Starts out pre-Pilot, but it could end up anywhere.

 

Warnings: As of last night's episode, it's officially AU, since Sam actually does know about monsters. Either that or he's just too young to care.

 

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Prologue

 

The cemetery isn't exactly where you expect something exciting to happen. Most of the people there are dead—it isn't exactly a party spot, nor where you see many life-changing events. And you're definitely not supposed to see people there—at least not at night,.

 

John Winchester would tell you differently. He would tell you that you could find all those things in a cemetery—you just had to tag along with him some night, and things were bound to happen. Only to be expected, business as usual, and all of that.

 

But even John Winchester hadn't been expecting what he was seeing right now.

 

He'd gone on this hunt tonight alone. It was a simple salt-and-burn, easily taken care of, and so he'd left his sons at home, one complaining loudly that no, he didn't need to do his homework, he didn't want to stay home, he wasn't too young to hunt with his dad, while the other scribbled down his simple first-grade math problems. He'd gone looking forward to getting this done and foreseeing no complications.

 

But now here he was, standing at the grave he should be digging up, staring wide-eyed at what could only be called…a complication.

 

It was hard to say whether the child was a boy or girl, or what age it was. In fact, it was hard to tell it was a child, as bundled up and covered as it was against the cold as it lay curled up with its back against the gravestone, using its bulk to break the wind. But the shape was human, and the gloves, and the shoes, and the hood. The hair was shoulder-length, so that didn't help the decision-making process. And there was no movement—for all John knew, the kid could've been dead. Either that or waiting to make him dead.

 

Well, only one way to find out.

 

John gritted his teeth and reached out a hand.

 

The child jerked before he could touch, rolling out of reach and darting behind the stone slab, ducking out of sight and leaving its pallet and blankets in a heap on the ground.

 

This was all done in absolute silence and with astounding speed, and afterward the only sound was the wind, and even though the kid had to be behind the grave still, there was no sign of it.

 

“Well,” John said to no one in particular, his hand still stretched in front of him. “That was unexpected.”

 

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Author's Note: This whole story is basically the result of a request of a friend of mine. Like I said in the disclaimer, she wanted me to write a Boyz story using one of her characters. That was pretty much all she wanted, so I'm pretty much making this up as I go along. The chapters will be short, but I do have up to number three done. I just need to find the time to type it up.

 

So anyways. Enough of my rambling. I'd love to hear what you thing! Reviews keep the muse in love and chocolate!