An uplifting DeathFic??!

Together At The End

The long, black, classic car that sat parked next to the edge of the vast canyon was, like the breathtaking landscape that surrounded her; a thing of beauty. The late, winter sunlight danced on her ebony paint as she sat, finally at rest, enjoying the loving caress from the hands that worked on her. Everything about her screamed of love and attention. She had, despite her age, not one blemish on her paint work, not a mark on her glass; her chrome dazzlingly bright in the death of the sunlight, all polished to perfection by the hand of one man.

It was just them now, the others were all gone, Bobby, Dad, Castiel….Sam, in the end he always thought that perhaps it would be. They had started this road together, is seemed only fitting that they should end it that way too. He wiped at his face. Now was not the time for tears. Gently laying his hands on her, taking comfort from her presence, he steadied himself and then stepped back; stripping his t-shirt off.

Taking a beer from the cooler that sat next to the car he checked again that he would have everything that he needed to get this job done and then he walked to the edge. Sitting down, he dangled his legs over the abyss, enjoying the beautiful views; feeling insignificant in the grand scheme of things.

He tilted his bottle at the dark clouds that were chasing towards him, that were starting to blacken the sky and the landscape. He threw his arms wide and challenged them. "You ain't getting this! I ain't gonna let you!" They were all around him now, gathered and waiting for their lord and master to arrive. He watched them close in tighter and he smiled.

Bring it.

The knife in his jean's waistband nicked him as he sat forward and hurled the bottle into the air and he pulled it free.

The knife had been a mixed blessing, he had killed more of their numbers with this in the last month than he had in the three years since they acquired it but it's assistance in the battle had come with a heavy price tag.

This was this knife that Ruby had lured them in with, and it had worked, made fools of them both.

It was the demons own version of a Trojan horse.

The one they'd use to get their foot soldier into the Winchester camp.

Divide and conquer their aim.

And that was what they had done to him and his brother. Pushed them apart until it was too late for them to save each other from the paths that they'd been forced down. The last blood that this knife had spilled, the blood that still dried on it's blade, had been Sam's. The last life, taken by Dean's own hand, that of his brother. It had seen him finally keeping the promise that he made to Sam what now seemed a lifetime ago.

The ghost of the conversation seeped into his memory – You have to watch out for me, all right? And if I ever turn into something that I'm not, you have to kill me. No, please! Dean, you're the only one who can do it. Promise.

Don't ask that of me.

Dean, please. You have to promise me.

I promise.

And if there was one thing that still held true in the mess that his life had become, Dean still kept his promises.

He'd made one other promise to his brother as he'd lay dying in his arms. He would end this, and he would, even if it was with the last breath from his body.

He raised the knife and carved the symbol on his chest. Then he pulled on a fresh t-shirt , knelt down and waited.

---

Lucifer approached the figure cautiously. He knew that the man kneeling on the ground in front of him was at his most dangerous at this moment. They had stripped him of his allies, stripped him of his family and now there was nothing left for him to do but lie down and accept his fate. Accept his own mortality. To finally just lie down and die.

Lucifer's sword was dug into the ground in front of the kneeling figure. Dean was slumped behind it, head down, hands balled into tight fists. The devil pulled the sword and tossed it aside, then he knelt before him.

"Have you come to wave the white flag for humanity Dean? To fall on the sword? Are you giving them over to their fate? God would be disappointed in you."

"It's not me he's disappointed with. It's over. It finishes here." Dean raised his head and Lucifer could not help but admire the beauty of this man that, although he stayed on his knees, was in no way being subservient to him. "I'm finishing it." He held out the knife to the demon and smiled. "Drive the dagger through me if you dare."

"You still believe that there is a way for you to win this Dean? That your death can mean something?"

"You took them from me, killed them all. I'm dead already." His eyes were pools of emotion as he stared at the man in front of him.

Lucifer laughed at him. "Fine." Raising the knife he pulled it back and drove it into Dean's chest, cradling him as Dean slumped forward. "We are alike Dean you and I, all I wanted too was for my father to love me. We both could not live up to their expectations of us."

Dean lifted his hands and placed them on the devil's shoulders, resting his head on them and letting his tears fall as the pain of dying slowly started to fill him. "Well then maybe for one of us it's not too late." He slid one of his hand backwards, grabbing and pulling Lucifer's head up and away from him. "I've got a present for you." Dean moved his head and bit into the skin on the side of the face next to his, tearing it from the flesh beneath it, his actions tearing the scream from the devil inside the mask. Quickly raising his other hand, he pushed the vial that his thumb was sealing into the open mouth and scrambled back.

The white light lit the horizon, pushing back the dark clouds of demons. Lucifer sat stunned for a moment then threw his head back and laughed his distain at Dean. "This is how you except to defeat me? By giving me back my grace?"

"A fallen angel can't get banished back to heaven, but now that you've got your grace back…well…I think daddy wants a word with you, and he's really, really, pissed."

"Who do you think you are, you think that you can do this to me?" He started towards Dean.

The trademark smirk sliding onto his face, Dean cried out as he pulled his t-shirt up and off. It revealed the symbol on his chest beneath it, the symbol that Lucifer himself had completed by stabbing him. Dean touched his chest and then it was Lucifer who cried out, vanishing from before Dean's eyes, yanked upwards in one fluid motion. The smirk changed to a full blown smile.

"I'm Batman and your screwed."

---

Crawling to the car he used her strength to pull himself up, leaning on her and watching as the sky begin to clear, the black clouds splitting and running before the light that moved to consume them. Their leader was gone and the demons were in instant disarray.

He wondered if they could already feel the beat of wings in the air.

The archangels were coming and there was no place for them to hide.

Reaching into the Impala he pulled the gasoline can from the back seat and stopped to look at the little collection of items that he kept to mark each of his losses. His father's jacket, Bobby's cap, Sam's laptop, hell he'd even kept Cas' trench coat and he smiled again, because really, he always wanted to burn that sucker. Now he was going to get the chance. Opening the can he threw the contents over the car and let the excess pool round her.

He knew he had to hurry now, he was fading, his own life blood dripping from him, just as the car's now did from her.

Sitting in the driver's seat one last time, he gently caressed the wheel and laid his head on it. A little piece of him didn't want to do this to her but she was his and it was how it was supposed to end.

She was going to die with him. He wouldn't be alone at the end.

Reaching over he pulled the pink slip from the glove box, then he climbed back out and taking the small bag of salt from the back, he salted the hood and the boot lid.

Then he climbed on top.

Spilling the salt over his chest and legs he pulled the lighter from his pocket. One flick of the wheel and he lit up the pink slip in his hand.

"How many people get to see their own salt and burn, eh baby?" He patted the car and lay back.

The pink slip fluttered to the ground, igniting the gas, as he closed his eyes and finally let go.

The flames licked round them, cleansing his soul and he knew that this was the last fire he would ever feel.

His journey through death would end differently this time.

For all his family were waiting on him upstairs.

And he was finally getting to go home.