Chapter Text
It turns out Dean was right. The world wanted to end. It didn't take long after the leviathans got the upper hand for everything to start going down the drain. And it went fast. Like a flood overtaking the desert when it finally decides to rain, it washed everything with it. A lot didn't fare well. Even more didn't survive. The country turned into what could almost be called a post-apocalyptic world. Though the apocalypse was what had actually been averted.
It didn't always look like a dead world. Some cities looked better than others in the beginning. Some weren't burned down. Some actually had electricity. Some people actually pretended that life went on as normal. But it didn't. The government is gone. Infiltrated and dismembered. People were eaten whenever the mood struck the monsters now at the top of the food chain. It was just a new common fact.
If you looked closer though, you'd see the change. You'd see the scars left cut in the rock by the flood. You'd see the way people hid. See the way cities were slowly falling apart against their will. Even the better looking ones were getting dark. Random house fires. Camps instead of communities. Every city slowly turning into a war zone. The wall was rising. People wanted out. Eventually the transition was complete. It was only a step away from the destruction Dean saw in a possible future thanks to Zachariah way back when.
Those strong enough started to fight. Those too weak tried to flee. Most were eaten. It was then that Hunters were acknowledged though very few were actually known. Most stayed in the dark out of protection for themselves. Only a few names were whispered around the fires in camps or in dark homes. The names said the most were whispered in almost awe. Singer. Winchester. And even sometimes stories of the old Roadhouse were passed around.
Now that the unbelievable was believed, the stories of how the world was saved once before were coming to light. Credit was given to those who stopped the devil. Heroes were named. No one talked much of the angel who helped, unable to say the name without fighting about if he was good or evil in the end. It was just there. The story of Castiel stopped soon after the talk of the return of the younger brother from the cage. They let the angel fade into the new story about the destruction of their world. Some hoped he'd return to help.
Singer and the Winchesters haven't been seen for months. Not after the leviathans got the upper hand and cities were burned and eaten. Some think they're dead. Others have taken their names on as a hope for the future. The stories told by those who have been saved in the past are circulated regularly. Most argue that they've survived too much to have just disappeared without a word of defiance. They wait for the end to come in the form of the Winchesters stepping up. It's all the hope they have left now.
No one knows what happened the day the leviathans revealed themselves. All they know is what was seen. Fires. Attacks. And words spoken by the leader about the continent of North America being theirs now. The name Winchester was said. None can recall how it was used. But they know that day was the effect of them trying to stop the creatures. And failed. No one knows how or why. But with the legends of their other hunts floating through the camps, they all know that if the world is to be saved, it will be by them in the end. Just like always.
Besides. Losing the first battle means knowledge for the second. The next time the Winchesters show up, they'll be ready for the kill.