SPN: "Symmetry"
Category: Supernatural
Title: Symmetry
Rating: PG
Summary: The Master's death is not the end of his plans.
Mild spoilers for 3.01.
Sam Winchester has always had two guardians.
Dean, his brother of flesh and blood, was merely mortal, born to his own destiny, according to the whims of fate and time and gods. He defended Sam with guns and fists and love, and against most enemies, that was enough.
She was the Guardian, born of the fires of Hell by a power no less than the will of the Master himself, gifted with weaponry so powerful that even demons feared it, kept asleep for the day the Master died and the gates of Hell opened and the Guardian of the Heir walked the earth for the very first time.
Though the Master was indeed a master of lies, he had not lied in this: Sam Winchester was his favorite. The others of his collection of mortal children had been left to fend for themselves after the claiming, but every milestone of Sam's life, for seven generations before his birth, had been carefully orchestrated.
She had full knowledge of the Master's plans, more than even his children, who, being demonic, he had naturally not dared to trust. Into her bones was bred the fervent desire to fulfill the Master's plans at any cost and the will to keep Sam safe from anything which threatened him. Fate had never decreed that the Master's plans must die with him.
That would be Fate's mistake.
The Guardian awoke, gathered the weaponry that had been left in her care, and went immediately to Sam. He was aware of her presence, an uneasiness he attributed to other factors, but he was unaware of her until she deliberately allowed him to catch a glimpse of her on the street. It was not required that the Heir know of her--but he and his brother were reckless, and had thrown themselves headlong into a conflict they could not possibly comprehend. Her work would be easier if Sam grew used to her presence.
Of course, what Sam knew, eventually Dean knew, but that, too, would work to her advantage; she could not guard the Heir without the cooperation of his other protector. Poor misguided Dean need not have sold his soul. Had he simply waited patiently, Sam would have been resurrected--to be a prince in victory, or at the hands of the Guardian in defeat.
That would have to be dealt with. Dean was Sam's tie to the mortal world, an unwitting side effect of the Master's careful planning; Fate or the gods, perhaps trying to interfere in the only ways they were permitted. But there was time enough for that. First she had to be sure Pride's boasting had not done damage, not made Sam suspect.
Sam was neither prepared nor ready for the truth.
Pride should not have taunted Sam. But then, arrogance ever was Pride's failing. It had been too long since he encountered a Guardian. He had forgotten what she could do, forgot it until the moment she stabbed the blade into his throat.
Sam looked at her, and she felt no desire to kneel before him, as she had the Master. The Master had known the Heir, known that such a gesture would only alienate him. What Sam understood was a tongue as quick and sharp as the dagger that had banished the others back to Hell, and that was what she gave him, in the cadences of modern culture that the Master had imbedded in her, cadences that camouflaged her fervent desire to serve the Heir.
She left him no time to question her. She could not yet risk it.
She stood back, and she watched, planning for their next moves before they had even made them.
The Master was dead.
Long live the Master.
Title: Symmetry
Rating: PG
Summary: The Master's death is not the end of his plans.
Mild spoilers for 3.01.
Sam Winchester has always had two guardians.
Dean, his brother of flesh and blood, was merely mortal, born to his own destiny, according to the whims of fate and time and gods. He defended Sam with guns and fists and love, and against most enemies, that was enough.
She was the Guardian, born of the fires of Hell by a power no less than the will of the Master himself, gifted with weaponry so powerful that even demons feared it, kept asleep for the day the Master died and the gates of Hell opened and the Guardian of the Heir walked the earth for the very first time.
Though the Master was indeed a master of lies, he had not lied in this: Sam Winchester was his favorite. The others of his collection of mortal children had been left to fend for themselves after the claiming, but every milestone of Sam's life, for seven generations before his birth, had been carefully orchestrated.
She had full knowledge of the Master's plans, more than even his children, who, being demonic, he had naturally not dared to trust. Into her bones was bred the fervent desire to fulfill the Master's plans at any cost and the will to keep Sam safe from anything which threatened him. Fate had never decreed that the Master's plans must die with him.
That would be Fate's mistake.
The Guardian awoke, gathered the weaponry that had been left in her care, and went immediately to Sam. He was aware of her presence, an uneasiness he attributed to other factors, but he was unaware of her until she deliberately allowed him to catch a glimpse of her on the street. It was not required that the Heir know of her--but he and his brother were reckless, and had thrown themselves headlong into a conflict they could not possibly comprehend. Her work would be easier if Sam grew used to her presence.
Of course, what Sam knew, eventually Dean knew, but that, too, would work to her advantage; she could not guard the Heir without the cooperation of his other protector. Poor misguided Dean need not have sold his soul. Had he simply waited patiently, Sam would have been resurrected--to be a prince in victory, or at the hands of the Guardian in defeat.
That would have to be dealt with. Dean was Sam's tie to the mortal world, an unwitting side effect of the Master's careful planning; Fate or the gods, perhaps trying to interfere in the only ways they were permitted. But there was time enough for that. First she had to be sure Pride's boasting had not done damage, not made Sam suspect.
Sam was neither prepared nor ready for the truth.
Pride should not have taunted Sam. But then, arrogance ever was Pride's failing. It had been too long since he encountered a Guardian. He had forgotten what she could do, forgot it until the moment she stabbed the blade into his throat.
Sam looked at her, and she felt no desire to kneel before him, as she had the Master. The Master had known the Heir, known that such a gesture would only alienate him. What Sam understood was a tongue as quick and sharp as the dagger that had banished the others back to Hell, and that was what she gave him, in the cadences of modern culture that the Master had imbedded in her, cadences that camouflaged her fervent desire to serve the Heir.
She left him no time to question her. She could not yet risk it.
She stood back, and she watched, planning for their next moves before they had even made them.
The Master was dead.
Long live the Master.