Member No.: 31,451
Joined: 13-March 08
First, the usual disclaimer applies: I do not own the characters or the plot of the series, only the story I wrote using the above characters.
Second, English is not my first language or the second. The story was proof read, but some grammar or spelling mistakes could have sneaked in. I apologize for those and hope they are not overly offensive.
This story was written shortly after I watched Jus in Bello, and it takes place on Dean's last day. Although it is not the first short story I have written, this is my first fanfic. I hope you will like it. Let me know.
It was 3 am. The night was dark and clouded. Only rare glimpses of the moon were to be seen through an occasional tear in the clouds. It was gloomy and quiet. Dean was sitting on his bed. He couldn’t sleep.
Sam was fast asleep. Dean looked over to his brother who was curled on his right side, facing away from Dean – his favorite sleeping position. As if he knew that Dean will always have his back. How many nights has Dean watched over Sammy? Just like that? He lost count, but it felt like a lifetime. He remembered endless nights when he sat, just like that, afraid to close his eyes. It always felt as if something will get Sammy the second he falls asleep. He never told that to anyone, especially not his father. He even tried to deny it to himself, but deep down he knew – he was afraid.
But Sammy was all grown up now and could take care of himself just right. So why did he feel as if he abandoned his little brother? Why was this old, all but forgotten, fear gnawing at him again? He shoved the feeling down. After all, he saved Sammy. He gave his life for Sammy’s, and at midnight he was going to die. They didn’t talk about it. What was there to talk about? There was no way to break the deal he had made, and he wasn’t sure he wanted it broken. It’s not that he wanted to die or go to hell. He truly didn’t, but he was tired. Tired of this world; tired of his life; tired of endless string of crappy motel rooms; of junk food; of never knowing where he would be next month; week or even tomorrow. Tired of strangers. He felt as if he was 100 years old – battered and weary, and all this before his 30th birthday.
He went over this evening. It was cool. He and Sammy decided to eat out, ended up in some bar, had some cheeseburgers, mmmmmm…. awesome cheeseburgers, and a few rounds of beer. They tried to keep a light conversation – the usual brotherly banter; - it was hard in the beginning but got easier later – after the 4th round or so. It was not how he imagined his last evening to be. Well, he would keep the burgers and the beer, but would add a couple of friendly chicks from that bar…. hmmm the blond waitress and the redhead from the next table…. nice…But instead he had to drag his half drunk brother home. Well, he knew Sammy needed this evening. There was not much for him to leave behind after all.
It was time to go. He decided long ago that this was the way to do it. No chick flick moments for him. He stood up, dressed up quietly, put on his shoes and the jacket. He took the impala keys and put them on Sammy’s nightstand. He took off his golden pendant and added it to the keys. He stood there, towering above his sleeping brother. Emotions swirled through him, emotions he couldn’t name, and those he wouldn’t acknowledge.
“Good bye, Sammy” he whispered – sound barely heard in this quiet night, “I know you find it hard to understand how I could do it…. But I died with you there, in my arms, bleeding your life out. I bled with you. I lost my life with your last breath.”
Dean felt a burning sensation in his eyes; one tear caught on the end of his lashes, fell onto his cheek and slowly slid down leaving a tingling feeling with its wet path. “I couldn’t live with you dead, so I gave you back your life and got one year to be with you again.” He paused, at loss of words.
He was not one to express his feelings very often, but now he felt as if he had to say all he had, even though no one could hear him. “Sammy, you have to win this war, you just have to. But afterwards, you need to stop hunting. You are the last one; you have a much bigger responsibility. Find some nice girl, marry her, have a bunch of kids. Tell them about their cool uncle Dean. Protect them from the dark. That is your destiny, Sammy. And it is much scarier than what you have now.” He paused again trying to imagine what Sammy’s kids would look like… probably as goofy as Sammy…. He smirked.
“Sorry it had to end like that, but I couldn’t stand your wussy good byes. Take care, little brother. Go, Show them who us Winchesters are.” As the last whisper died, dean looked once again at Sam, turned and went to the door. At the door, he turned for one last look and said “Oh… take a good care of my baby, otherwise I will haunt your ass down.” And then he left, quietly closing the door behind him.
The moment the lock clicked home, Sam opened his eyes. Tears were streaming from the corners. He jumped from the bed, pulled on some pair of jeans and his boots, put on a shirt, grabbed his jacket and ran outside. There was no sign of Dean anywhere in the parking lot. Sam ran to the road, trying to catch a glimpse of his brother. Nothing. He wanted to go back for the Impala keys to go on looking for Dean, but decided to check the main road again first. He stood there, looking up and down the road. Still nothing.
Suddenly a movement in the corner of his eye caught his attention. Dean stepped from behind a tree trunk - “Bitch.”
“Jerk” – Sam said smiling. He caught his older brother in a fierce hug. They stood there, in the middle of the night, on some godforsaken road and hugged. Time stood still.
Finally, they stepped away from each other. Dean smirked. Sam chuckled. Dean turned around and started walking down the road. Sam stood there, watching his brother walking away. Pain cut through his gut – “I will get you out, Dean” he whispered “I swear.”
Dean could feel Sammy’s gaze on his back as he walked away. He couldn’t bring himself to look back. Dean felt the predawn chill crawling on his skin. The sun was rising to awaken the earth. The sun was sinking on his life.