In Supernatural TV/Vampire Diaries with The Force as the Chosen One

Chapter 21: "Hello ..."



The Impala's headlights cut through the darkness as Dean guided the car through Singer Salvage Yard's entrance.

Towers of junked vehicles were around them.

Kate stood silhouetted in the doorway, arms wrapped around herself against the night chill. The moment the engine died, she was moving, yanking open the back door where Lucien sat.

"Let me see you," she demanded, hands already checking for injuries, eyes scanning his pale face. "Are you hurt? What happened?"

"I'm okay, Mom, just like we said on the phone," Lucien assured her, though his voice still carried the rasp of exhaustion. "Just tired."

John circled around the car, his own movements betraying stiffness from the wraith's attack. "We're all okay, Kate. Nothing permanent."

Her eyes widened at the bruising around Dean's neck as he stepped into the porch light. "That's not nothing, John."

Bobby appeared in the doorway, baseball cap still firmly in place despite the late hour. "Got some stew keeping warm and beds made up. Medical kit's on the kitchen table."

Sam was the last to exit the car. Though he bore no visible injuries, something about his posture seemed off – like a man walking on ice, afraid it might crack beneath him.

"Adam's asleep?" John asked as they filed inside.

"Put him down around nine," Kate confirmed. "Told him you'd all be here when he woke up."

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The kitchen smelled of beef stew and coffee, the familiar scents of Bobby's house a balm after the chaos of the hunt. Kate immediately went to work, cleaning wounds and applying bandages with professional efficiency.

"You're going to have some impressive bruises," she told Dean as she examined his neck. "But nothing's crushed or permanently damaged."

"Told you I was fine," Dean muttered, though he didn't pull away from her ministrations.

John accepted a mug of coffee from Bobby, adding a generous splash of whiskey from the bottle Bobby slid across the table. "We need to talk about what happened. More than what was said on the phone."

"Not tonight," Kate said firmly. "Everyone needs rest. Morning's soon enough."

For once, John didn't argue.

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Sunlight streamed through the kitchen windows as Kate set a plate of scrambled eggs in front of Adam.

The eight-year-old immediately began drowning them in ketchup, a habit that made Sam wince every time he witnessed it.

"Easy on the red stuff, buddy," Dean said, ruffling Adam's hair as he passed. "Leave some for the rest of us."

John sat nursing his second cup of coffee, circles under his eyes suggesting he hadn't slept much despite Kate's insistence on rest. Bobby was already buried in a book, occasionally making notes in the margins.

Lucien entered last, moving with more energy than he'd shown the previous night. The Force exhaustion was passing, his connection growing stronger again with each hour of rest.

"How're you feeling, kiddo?" Bobby asked without looking up from his book.

"Better," Lucien replied, accepting the plate Kate handed him. "The Force feels... clearer today."

Kate's movements stilled momentarily before she resumed pouring juice. The kitchen fell into an uneasy silence broken only by the scrape of forks against plates and Adam's cheerful humming.

When Adam finished eating and asked to go play outside, Kate nodded. "Stay where I can see you from the window," she instructed.

The moment the screen door banged shut behind him, Kate turned to face the table, hands planted firmly on the countertop.

"I've been thinking about this all night," she began, her voice steady despite the emotion in her eyes. "And I've decided. Lucien is not going on any more hunts."

John set down his coffee mug. "Kate-"

"No, John. He's eleven years old. Eleven. He nearly died."

"I didn't-" Lucien started.

"You were unconscious for a day!" Kate's voice rose slightly. "Dean has bruises around his neck that look like someone tried to strangle him. Sam can barely hide that he's shivering despite it being seventy degrees in here. And you want to tell me this is acceptable?"

Dean and Sam exchanged glances, neither willing to step into the brewing argument between their father and Kate.

"Hunting is dangerous," John acknowledged. "That's why it was supposed to be observation only. Things went sideways."

"Things always go sideways," Kate countered. "That's what you've told me for years. 'Expect the unexpected.' Well, I'm expecting it now, and I'm saying no. Find another way to teach him."

"Mom," Lucien said quietly, setting down his fork. "I need to learn this."

"You can learn from books. From training here, where it's safe."

"It's not just about hunting," Lucien continued, his voice taking on a maturity that made everyone at the table pay attention. "It's about what my place is now in everything."

Kate stilled. "What do you mean?"

"Death told me that others would sense what I've become. Some will try to use me. Others might try to destroy me."

Lucien met her eyes directly. "My power exists now. It flows through... everything. It is life. And it gives life. People will seek it out, and will seek to understand and control it."

The kitchen was silent as Lucien continued, "Which will inevitably lead them to me. If I'm not prepared, can't use my own power, and can't survive even without it, then I'll simply be a lamb to the slaughter."

His voice softened. "A more peaceful childhood isn't worth a hellish full life, Mom."

Kate's eyes filled with tears, though none fell. She turned away, facing the window where Adam could be seen playing with toy cars in the dirt.

"You can't stop this," Lucien added gently. "None of us can."

Kate grabbed her purse from the counter. "I need to get groceries," she said, voice tight. "And some fresh air. We're out of... everything."

She left without another word, the screen door closing much more quietly behind her than when Adam had exited.

The silence in the kitchen stretched uncomfortably until a small voice from the doorway broke it.

"Why is Mommy sad?"

Adam stood there, dust on his knees from playing outside, his expression confused and worried.

"Did you make Mommy cry, Lulu?" he asked, looking directly at his older brother.

Lucien opened his mouth, then closed it again, unprepared to explain in a way that his little brother could understand.

John pushed back his chair and crossed to Adam, crouching to meet him at eye level.

"Sometimes grown-ups disagree about how to keep people safe," John explained, his voice gentle. "Your mom wants to protect Lucien one way, and I think he needs to be protected a different way."

Adam considered this. "Like how you say I can't have a knife yet, but Lulu can?"

John's lips quirked in a half-smile. "Something like that. Your mom just needs some time to think."

"Is she coming back?" Adam asked, a hint of worry creeping into his voice.

"Of course she is," John assured him. "She just went to get groceries."

He straightened, placing a hand on Adam's shoulder. "How about I show you how to change the oil in a car while we wait? Bobby's got an old junker that's perfect for learning on."

Adam's face lit up. "Really?"

"Really. Go wash your hands first."

As Adam scampered off, John turned back to the kitchen table. "We're not done talking," he said to Sam and Lucien. "All of us. I'll be back in fifteen minutes."

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True to his word, John returned after getting Adam settled with a basic mechanics lesson under Bobby's supervision. He closed the kitchen door and took his seat at the table, eyes moving between his middle and second-youngest sons.

"Something changed between you two at that diner," he said without preamble. "What aren't you telling us?"

Dean looked up from where he'd been cleaning a disassembled handgun. "What are you talking about?"

"When Dean and I went to get food for the road and came back," John explained, "something had shifted. I want to know what."

Sam and Lucien exchanged glances, a silent communication passing between them.

"It's about what I said," Sam finally admitted. "When you and Dean were at the counter."

"Which was?" John prompted.

Lucien took a deep breath. "Sam told me that ''he' feels neglected.' That I favor his sister."

"Who feels neglected?" Dean asked, setting down the gun part he'd been oiling.

"My son," Lucien said quietly. "The Dark Side."

Dean's eyebrows shot up. "I'm sorry, your what now?"

"My son," Lucien repeated. "The Dark Side of the Force. He feels I'm neglecting him while embracing the Light Side – my daughter."

Bobby, who had returned from the salvage yard in time to hear this, leaned against the doorframe. "The Son? The Daughter? What in the hell are you talking about, boy?"

Lucien's cheeks colored slightly. "Like I said, that's what they are. The Force was born from my soul, and all. Also, before anyone says ANYTHING- I haven't really had the time to name them, okay?"

Everyone was silent for a long moment, before Dean let out a surreal laugh. "Huh... Didn't know I was an uncle."

"I didn't know I was a grandfather," John muttered, rubbing his forehead.

Sam frowned, looking confused. "How else did you think the Force was communicating with Lucien if it wasn't conscious?"

John and Dean exchanged glances, neither having an answer.

"So let me get this straight," Dean said, changing tactics. "The Force – this cosmic energy you created – has split into two beings that you consider your children?"

"Essentially," Lucien confirmed. "They formed from fragments of my soul combined with the energy of the Light and Dark Sides- that were also created from my soul. Though to add a bit on what Sam just said- yes, they're conscious, but they aren't talking to me, not really."

"They're still infants after all. It's more that they want good for me, and so like a cause and effect situation, the effect of them feeling that want, just makes it so, when I am in danger or something is soon going to happen that is bad for me, I'll get a heads up."

"Cause and Effect, simply the nature of how it is. No knowledge needed. It's like with attributes."

"The Force having the attribute that anything with the attribute of anything bad and dangerous being about to happen, will be warned about."

"It doesn't need to have the knowledge to tell me what it is, itself, it nature, having that effect does it well enough. Well, besides if that bad and dangerous thing has sufficient protection."

"Okay..." Was Dean's response, clearly not having understood all of it- he'll ask for more detail later. It isn't because he's stupid- his mind is focused on another thing right now.

"Besides that- why the hell didn't you tell us this earlier?" He demanded.

Lucien sighed, already having expected this, rubbing his eyes. "I'm explaining it now, aren't I?" He gestured expansively. "Besides, me having the Force, let alone being its father, is supposed to be a secret. The walls can have ears. I couldn't simply explain it in the diner."

"Lucien's right," John interjected. "It's best not to mention it outside this house. The only reason it doesn't matter calling it 'the Force' elsewhere, like at the diner, is because it can be chalked up to childishness – a kid seeing psychic abilities as 'The Force' from the movies."

"If someone were listening in," Lucien continued, "they wouldn't know the truth."

Bobby pushed himself off the doorframe, approaching the table. "Let's get back to the heart of the matter. What are you going to do about the Dark Side feeling neglected?"

His expression was serious. "I don't think it's a good idea to make something that powerful feel isolated, angry, and vengeful."

"It's obvious," Lucien said after a moment. "I'll connect myself to it."

The room fell silent again.

"Will it be dangerous?" John finally asked. "Will you be safe?"

"The Dark Side doesn't have ill will toward me," Lucien explained. "It's not like another Force user is using it against me. It's my son, after all."

He paused, considering his words carefully. "The greatest problem is its destructive nature itself – like I explained, it's like holding fire. But I'll be careful, tapping into it only as much as I can handle."

John nodded slowly. "When will you start?"

"When I sleep," Lucien answered. "That will be the best time, during the night, when it's dark."

John studied his son for a long moment before approaching him. He crouched down to get to eye level with Lucien, who sat on the couch.

"I don't know how to help with most of this," John said, placing a hand on Lucien's shoulder. "It's way above my pay grade. But you're my son, just like Sam, Dean, and Adam. Whatever you need, you just have to ask."

Surprise flickered across Lucien's face, followed by a small, genuine smile. "Thanks, Dad."

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Night had fallen over Singer Salvage Yard, the house quiet except for the occasional creak of settling wood.

Kate had returned hours earlier, tension still evident in her shoulders but determination in her eyes as she'd helped Adam with his reading before bed.

Now, Lucien sat cross-legged on his bed, hands resting on his thighs. The room was dark except for a sliver of moonlight slipping through the curtains.

He closed his eyes, focusing on his breathing. In. Out. Steady and deep.

The Force responded to his call, flowing around and through him like a familiar river. But tonight, instead of drawing from the Light as he usually did, he reached for the darker current that had always been present but largely ignored.

"Here goes nothing," he whispered, and plunged his awareness into the Dark Side.

Cold rushed through him, intense and shocking after months of working primarily with the Light. The sensation wasn't painful exactly, but bracing – like diving into winter water.

He - unlike with the Light Side, felt himself actually being pulled in - his soul, going... elsewhere.

The physical world fell away. Lucien found himself standing in an endless void, darkness stretching in all directions.

But it wasn't just darkness – it was power waiting to be shaped.

At his feet, a small form glowed. A... soul - in the form of red light, shaped like an infant, floating in the sea of darkness.

Lucien took the sight in for a long moment, as he then slowly crouched, reaching out with careful hands. He lifted the fiery child into his arms, cradling it against his chest- his control the only thing protecting him from the destructive cold.

The infant's eyes opened – twin suns of yellow light burning in the darkness, looking at him.

"Hello, son," Lucien said softly.

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(Author note: Hello everyone! I hope you all liked the chapter.

Do tell me how you found it.

I hope to see you all later,

Bye!)


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