I have been a sojourner in a strange land.
Mother burned on the ceiling turning father, elder son and baby sojourners. Newly cursed the shattered family became nomads ever moving. How many times has Sam and Dean watch homes roll by home snug with drives that lead to their door and stopped? How many times did John watch a man laughing with his wife walking along as their child races ahead but always glancing back to make sure mama and daddy where right behind?
Despair, anger, grief and loneliness mingled with the bitter lust for revenge trudged with them as they meandered across state lines. Surely their souls wandered in a grey void seeing distant stable lights ever out of their reach and ever so. Only their Impala, that black muscle car with the throat of a tiger keep away vertigo.
Layered over this constant moving was the truly supernatural world John and Dean and Sam lived in so very few others accepted. Most people, the vast majority of people, that saw the other side deliberately shut off such a reality where horrors came at them worse than late night B movies made to scare the kids into tossing up their popcorn in fun fear and theatrical cult extravaganzas cut to chill the bones. Worse yet when monsters drove them mad and even worse, monsters that terrorized them into dreading to even to look out windows in their own homes.
What was John to do? He became the drill sergeant of Vietnam to train so he could save his boys from what was out there. The father knew he had only short days to turn Dean into a super soldier while keeping Sam innocent every second he could. How could he do less that burn out his rage in slaughtering that yellow eyed demon? How could he refuse to save innocents caught up in this insanity? Had he not sworn such a Marine’s oath to do so?
Now aliens forged for their new world the three found what company they could with fellow hunters. Sam and Dean finding in Bobby what they could not find in their own father. Outside became the family honor, the family business what they did because they could do nothing else.
The Winchester boys with their family and network of friends and hidden lives in plain view grew into the American myth. Maybe because Americans are made of aliens of one kind or another, even the natives turned into aliens by the coming of the other sojourner.
How do these boys grip your imagination? How does their dark fight match up so well with your dark fights? How is it that they haunt you?