Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural or it's characters.
Warnings: Suicide and character death.
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He was in their typical rundown motel room. Sam was gone, out somewhere. He felt like he barley knew his baby brother anymore.
Everything was different now, with him returning from hell and Sam and the demon blood. Everything was wrong, so very wrong. He was empty, merely a shell of his former self. Hell he didn't even have a soul anymore. Sure he acted like his normal, cocky self on the outside but in reality he was far from it. He was broken, broken beyond repair. Stuck in a pitch black world with no light in sight.
He was alone. He'd been alone all of his life. Everyone came and went as they pleased. Even his own father and brother, the only people he'd ever really cared about. No one needed him. Finally though, for once in his life he was gonna be the one leaving as wished. He knew he'd be going back to hell but he would have inevitably of ended up back there anyway, right? He'd already left a note on the night stand for Sam.
He had always considered people who committed suicide as weak, cowards even. Not anymore though. He understood now.
Closing his eyes and taking a shaky breath he slowly picked up the gun and placed it to his temple, muttering his last words "I'm sorry, Sammy." he pulled the trigger.
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Author's Note: I just got an urge to write this.
It is my first attempt of any kind whatsoever at a dark/suicide/death fic.
Be gentle and thank you for reading.
