Winchester Urban Legends-This is how I'd like it to end

Don't own 'em, just love 'em wish ta hell I worked for Kripke

W&W

The cliff was coming up fast in front of their car as the Impala sped toward the edge of the Grand Canyon. Satan had transmuted himself into raw energy like ball lightening and hurled himself at the rear of the speeding Impala. It was a race against time. If they could lure the devil close enough to the portal that had opened up in the floor of the canyon just as he exploded the car; the inertia would send him back to hell and the explosion would seal the gate behind him.

If he got to them first they died, he won and Earth became Hades vacationland.

With nowhere else to go but over, the beautiful black ride they had called home sailed over the rust colored rock and into blue open space. It seemed to hang there for a moment, then the front end tipped down in a graceful arc and it plummeted down, down to the canyon floor below. A WHOOOMP of an explosion rocked the air sending a plume of flame halfway back up and then a blackened cloud engulfed it.

The small crowd of hunters and angels that had stood a distance away held their breath. But the only thing that blackened the sky was the oily smoke from the burning vehicle and not the unholy darkness of demons unleashed upon the world.

A cheer rose up. We had won. Against horrible odds the ragtag group of humans and angels had won against hell's worst and the balance of good VS evil was maintained.

Then one of the hunters, a grizzled older man took off his battered baseball cap and placed it over his heart, he bent his head and wept for the sacrifice that two hunters had made that day so that the world should live and one by one the cheering turned to quiet thankful prayer and mourning. Because no one could have survived that crash.

W&W

They began to notice the stories about ten months after. Every bar frequented by hunters that they stopped into, if they stayed long enough, they'd over hear someone talk about them.

Some said they never really existed; they were just a fabrication of other hunter's experiences all spooled together and attributed to two fabled brothers.

Some said they had existed, but when the hell gate opened up and Lucifer was sent through the devil took them with him as his own cause they were hell spawn themselves.

Others called them saints and attributed miracle rescues to them.

Their name became synonymous for impossible deeds made to happen. As in: "It would have taken a Winchester to break that spell. Or only a Winchester could have gotten out with their skin intact. And they began to hear a new buzz phrase "Winchester Luck" and it gave them mixed feelings coz it meant suck bad circumstances suddenly turning impossibly good. Implying they never deserved half the breaks they got.

Signally legends spread about one or the other. Sometimes Sam was a hero, a man so big and strong and true to his convictions that he could stand toe to toe with corruption and it could not bend his will and sometimes he was said to be so evil demons feared him second only to the devil himself.

Dean was always reported to possess unearthly beauty for a man and given to deliver punishment like a force of nature if defending his brother. It was said no woman could resist him no man could best him in either cards or pool. And the cherry black car they rode in was said to cause bad mojo to retreat as soon as it heard the thunderous purr of its approach.

Sam was particularly amused by the trickster like qualities attributed to his brother in stories of Dean cheating Death itself numerous times and even turning the wrath of angels to help them instead of smite them in their quests.

But mostly it was the stories of their sightings that got to them. They heard hunters swear on their favorite whore's grave that it was them that rescued a busload of Catholic School girls down in Utah. Or how they ended a 200 year old haunting of a backwoods swamp church in South Carolina by holy sigils and near fight to the death against the haint that dwelled there.

And when an unrecognized Dean joined in a round of Winchester tales by asking if anyone had heard of the time they quelled the Zombie rebellion a voodoo witch had organized in New Orleans he was told that story was just a pack of lies because it was too far fetched.

They shook their heads in disbelief coz it was the only true one told that night.

The people, hunters especially just wanted to believe. The books that Chuck had been inspired to write about them only fueled the fire and added to the legends and their mystique.

Still and all they kept their heads low.

Enough of the community still needed to blame someone for the devastation the months of Satan's freedom had caused and Dean didn't see the point of sticking their necks out to claim the glory of ending the Apocalypse when the truth of both their roles in beginning it was just as plain.

So they did what they always did, went on with hunting things and saving people, and didn't stick around for the credit.

Course they never in their wildest dreams ever thought they'd end up as urban legends themselves. Just goes to show, it only takes a little grain of truth to get these things started. And in an odd way it seemed most fitting that even though all their lives they spent unrewarded for what they do in the end long after they were truly dead, the name of Winchester would live on in legend.

The end

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