Red as blood, white as snow and blue as a tear

Snowflakes fell in silence
Silently and incessantly

'Damned Dean! Come on now!'
It was already ten past ten, and the monsters had to be killed till midnight.
Sam was finished for an hour, while Dean needed hours till he came out of the bathroom and declared himself as 'Ready to kill the monsters!'
When they left the shabby motel they dived into thick dust, which made them nearly invisible in the surrounding darkness.
They started the hunt on any Friday in fall, much more important was: It was full moon. Somewhere over the thick dust, one could see the yellow wheel hanging in the dark clouds. Sam and Dean got the trace of the werewolves, when they found a couple of rended hikers near the Boise National Forest in Idaho. All of them were found without heart.
When Dean parked the car, it was 11 o'clock. They had about one hour left to run through the huge forest and kill 10 werewolves. Sam sighed, he could think of far better stuff to do that night. Both Winchesters walked silently for ten minutes, until they reached the place where Sam presumed the tribe to be. They stood on a small glade, in front of them there was a deep cliff and in behind them the entrance into a cave. Both made a step forwards, so they could estimate how big the cave was. Once they where inside it, there wouldn't be any way out but slaughtering every single one of the werewolves, they wouldn't have any chance to bolt, the wolves would be faster.
The entrance was grown with plants and scrub and moss, but the darkness behind seemed to compete with the colour of the night-sky.
'Let's kill 'em', Dean grinned and charged his sawn-off shotgun.
'wasn't on wolves-hunt for a while. Whatcha saying? Me the first five, you the second?' Dean didn't stop grinning while he put some other munitions in his jacket. Sam looked at him flabbergasted. 'Prefer standing around like the geek you are, or do we start killing these beasts?' Dean said as a reaction to his mien.
Dean was looking forward for this hunt since it was about killing some beasts and not saving some angels ass or bewaring of apocalypse.
Sam followed his brother with a shake of his head. He didn't feel like that hunt was as easy as Dean thought. Finally they where two and the werewolves were monsters and all grown up beasts.
Another five minutes later Sam and Dean walked into the cave, guns at the ready.
Deep inside Sam wished the wolves were out for a hunt themselves, when he saw a black creature hiding in the shadows.
A wolf.

They stood right in front of it and without a seconds hesitation Dean shot through the wolfs heart.

No blood.
Just the flashing thought, that a human being was killed, caught somewhere and deep inside this monster.

Slowly the body slackened and finally sunk onto the floor lifelessly.

Sam couldn't get used to see humans, or at least human like beings, die.
In the past he thought this would be because of the death of his girlfriend Jessica, but this thought of killing a human and not just a monster, even grew stronger in his mind.
In the time just before the apocalypse he thought differently about this, but only because he was full with demon blood.
Sam slipped back to reality when he heard several shots.

Dean had killed two other wolves.

Even Sam pulled the trigger.

Mortally shot. According to their calculations there were six wolves left. Maybe this whole thing would become easier than Sam dared to hope?

Dean and Sam ran faster and found themselves in some kind of hall. This whole thing looked like a survival camp if you forgot about all the torn up bodies, which lay on the floor. Obviously not all victims were found. Two more wolves died without any trouble, when a big on jumped at Sam. The black monster mangled Sam's shoulder. Sam screamed numbly.

Just seconds before the wolf started another attack, it landed on the floor. Dean aimed at him and struck.

'Are you...oh fuck! Your shoulder!' Dean shouted.
'It's ok.' Sam said and sweared silently when he stood up. In the same movement he shot two wolves which stood behind Dean.

On the sandy floor the fresh wolfs blood blend with the blood of the human victims.
Just one more wolf and they would have been finished. Sam and Dean ran towards a pedestal where they presumed the alpha to be. They climbed up and aimed for the beast, which showed them their back.
'Nah, that's out of place.' The beast said. Dean and Sam shared a confused expression. 'Killing a man who shows you his back?' keeps it whispering.
'A duel to death. Man against man. That's it, right?'
Dean stepped closer to the wolf. 'Yeah, Think you're right, but... I can't help it, but I can't see the man I could duel with. There is just this beast waiting for me to kill it.' With these words Dean shot, but in the same moment the monster turned around and smiled at Dean. 'Dean Winchester a hero like you can find one in a fairy tale! All I miss is the white steed. Don't wanna be theatrical but...it was SO nice to meet you guys.' Suddenly his mien got darker. Just before it sunk on the floor the wolf shrieked. 'Kill him.'

Dean felt like he saw the following in slow motion. The claws sank in his brothers back.
Not he was meant.

Not he was supposed to die.

The monster made the right choice.

If Sam died Dean wouldn't find any reason to stay alive. To big the pain, the weight on his shoulders. Dean tried to kill the wolf but the way it clutched his brother he would die too, if Dean shot. The decision was easier to make, when Sam started to spit blood. Dean shot at the wolf and it staggered and fell aside.

Dean ran to Sam. Sam lay on the floor, next to the wolf. His neck was bend in an impossible angle. A thin bit of blood poured out of his mouth and his former fear wide open eyes were now closed.
Dean knelt down next to his brother, he was cold, some kind of fog seemed to lay over the whole world, he discerned everything around him blurry. This couldn't have happened. He couldn't lose his brother, not again. He feverish searched for Sam's heartbeat, he tried to catch just one sign of life.
Nothing.

The silence echoed in his ears.

'Sammy' he whispered.

He grabbed for a blanket which lay on the blood stained ground and pulled Sam on it. This way he would be able to carry him to the car. He reached the cave entrance and recognised it had started to snow.

Silently and softly the white crystals collected on the ground and got caught up in his little Brother's hair.
Wasn't it far to early for snow?

Sam would have loved the snow, Dean thought.

When they were younger Sam loved to play in the snow. Dean remembered how he once asked his brother why he loved the snow. Sammy answered: ''Cause covered with snow, every town looks the same, and it doesn't matter where we live. I'm here with you and 'cause of that it's home to me.'
Dean couldn't help it. He let himself down on the ground and held his brother in his arms. 'Sammy, they're dead. We made it. Sammy, wake up! Sammy. SAM!'

One single blue tear ran down Dean's face.

Above him a new day dawned.
An icy day, merciless and cold as ice.
Dean felt like the last bit of life dropped out of Sam together with his warmth, so he gripped him and pulled him closer to himself.
That just mustn't be real.
Sam had to live.

Silently the snow flakes fell down.
Silently and incessantly.

Blood dropped on the snow.
Silently and without mercy.
Another tear ran.

An ice blue tear.