"Dean,"
A gruff voice woke Dean from his nine-year-old dreams and sent him tumbling into the real world.
"Huh?"
He sat up. The motel room was dark, only a bar of watery moonlight spread weakly across the floor. From habit, he glanced over to Sammy's bed. The 5-year-old was soundly asleep.
"Dean, I've got a case."
That woke Dean right up.
XXXxxxXXX
They were hunting a spirit today. Dean loved it; he looked after all of his dad's guns and knives, polishing each one. He also kept an eye out for any holy places they might pass, just in case. Dean would try so hard to impress his dad but almost nothing worked. His dad would fault with him and send him off to look after Sammy. That was the reason why he was in the motel now instead of being out searching for the ghost that had caused three suicides. After a few hours, John came back, panting with a tiny dribble of blood leaking out of his mouth. Immediately he packed his and Sammy's things and brought them down to the car. Dean didn't like the Ford. It was big and rattly and old. But it did its job and went pretty fast.
Later that night...
Dean sat excitably in the back seat of the old Ford they had. He kicked the seat in front of him, restlessly. Only his brothers sleeping form stopped him clambering over to sit next to his dad.
He leaned forward, nonetheless; right behind his fathers ear and whispered: "Hey, hey, dad, are you afraid of ghosts?"
John sighed and looked at his oldest son in the mirror. He rolled his eyes and replied, "I ain't afraid of no ghosts"
It was worth having to say it to see the pure joy on his sons face as he laughed and laughed.
He laughed so hard he woke up Sammy.
20 years later
Dean smiled slightly as the memory came flooding back. That was one of his favourite times, before Sam left the hunting business and John started drinking more.
That was also before he'd met Castiel and the Apcolaspe came along and all that.
But he had met Castiel and he'd loved every second. He hadn't regretted anything.
Except one thing: telling his angel he loved him.
And that was the only thought on his mind as he closed his eyes and slowly slipped away in to the comforting arms of Death…
XXXxxxXXX
"Dean!" Cas screamed as he ran towards the collapsing form of the hunter. The ghost was hovering above him, its hand deep in Dean's chest, revolving his arm.
Cas ran past the ghost, only sending a flaming ball of holy fire at it, smiting it immediately. He ran to dean and just caught his head before it collided with the hard October ground. The hunter's eyes were flickering closed and his breathing was evening and slowing. "Dean," Castiel's voice cracked. But the hunter was too far gone for his Grace. "Dean…" he breathed as his heartbeat stopped forever.
Castiel had spent two years with Dean, travelling around the country, ganking demons. He had loved every second. He didn't regret anything.
Except one thing: telling his hunter he loved him.
And that was the only thought on his mind as Dean slipped further and further away from him forever…
I'm sorry but I haven't done any upsetting ones.
Hope you liked it