I actually wrote this about a week ago but just as I was saving this to my laptop, it shut down. Arghh. But now I wrote it again.

I don't want to add anything to the end of this, so I'm gonna ask it here. Do you want me to add second chapter? I'm not sure if I want to leave this fic so depressing, but argh, I don't know.. so tell me; should I write another chapter where (don't wanna spoil the end) the ending isn't so sad?

Sam is 16, Dean is 20. Pre-series.

The lines keep getting thinner
My age has never made me wise
But I keep pushing on and on and on and on

Why does it hurt so frigging much?

Ah, fuck. My whole body seems to be on fire. Or like every bone in my body is broken. Or both. I don't know, okay? It- it just hurts so much..

"Dean."
"Sam! Where the hell are you?!"
"Umm.. outside."
"Yeah, just wonderful! Absolutely wonderful! You took Impala, right?"
"Look, Dean-"
"I don't look anything, Sam! You get your ass back here right now, and I swear to god you'll never see daylight again."

Am I laying on grass? Yup, it's definitely grass. It's so soft and cool against my back.

I open my eyes. The first thing I notice is the sky. It's pitch black -like the road I was driving just some minutes ago- and only few stars light up the darkness of endless space.

Someone once said that stars are our dead loved ones- maybe mom is a star, as well?

"That's unfair!"
"Shut up, Sam. You stole Impala, sneaked out and drank alcohol! If you act like a fucking idiot, I'll treat you like one. Got it?"
"You're such a fucker!"

Maybe I become a star when I die.

I almost forget my pain- almost. But then I move my arm a bit, and a wave of pain shakes my body. I bite my lip and feel a tear running down my cheek.

If I'm going to die tonight, I think, can I please die without suffering for too long?

"I'm not going to discuss this, Sam. You're coming home now."
"What if I don't? Huh? It's not like you're going to miss me! I could just die and no one would even notice, Dean! You got any idea what that feels like? To have no friends, no.. anything!"

Oh, fuck. Dean. Where is he?

"Gosh, Sam, how much did you drink? I swear to god.. You're drunk. Come here now and maybe I won't tell dad about this."
"Yeah. We'll see about that."

I really should find my phone. I know I had it with me- I had it in my hand when I crashed.

But how can I find anything when I'm barely able to move?

"Sam, come on. I'm pissed as hell, and I promise I'll kick your ass tomorrow for this night, but you have to come home."
"I'm on my way, Dean. I just.. sorry."

I close my eyes. I know I can't do it. It hurts too much. Even for me to bear.

Sighing, I let myself relax against the cold grass. How much is the time now? Probably not much over three. Dean is probably asleep by now in his bed. And dad is probably just getting home from his hunt. And I'm here.

Dying in the middle of nowhere, a crashed car next to me. I just have to be grateful it didn't explode. Dean would kill me.

I let out a little laugh. Yeah... How could he kill me? I'm definitely dead before he wakes up in the morning.

Opening my eyes again, I notice a few more stars flickering there. Maybe they are some people who died just now? I don't exactly believe in heaven or anything like that, but it would be pretty cool to become a star after you die. Just spend an eternity stalking people from the above.

The burning sensation all over my body seems to ease a bit over time. Not much though. But just enough for me to try to examine my injuries- I can tell that at least few ribs of mine are broken.

I move my right arm just a little bit to see if it still works. It's a bit hard to lift it up, but it seems to be okay, and I softly place it over my stomach.

There is a part of me that doesn't want to die. Not yet. Not this young.

And then there's a part that has already accepted the fact that I'm in the middle of nowhere, alone, without any chances to call for help, and that I'm going to die.

"It's alright, Sam. Just get your ass here, and we'll talk this out. You're drunk and don't know what you're talking about, okay?"
"Yeah. Hey, Dean?"
"Mhm?"
"I just passed a sign that says that our motel is three miles from he-"

They say that things like worrying or traumatic events clear your head up. Even after a hard night of drinking. And I gotta admit that it's true. But right now, I could really use a glass -fuck it, a bottle- of something.

I close my eyes. I just want the pain to stop. Please.

Maybe, if I just let it go? Let go of everything? Make everything go black and such, like in books? Does it really work? Well.. what could I lose? I'm already dying. It's worth a shot.

"Sam! Sammy! You there?! What happened? Sam!"

I close my eyes. It's true- what could I possibly lose?

And I try. I try really hard to just let it go, but it's hard. The part of me that wants to live is still struggling, it's shouting at me to open my eyes and get up, to find my phone or something, but the other part is winning. I want the endless pain to end.

I don't stop trying. And finally everything just darkens around me even though my eyes are closed, the quiet noises around me fade away and the stars stop flickering for me.

"Sammy!"

I'm not sure if I want to die. But it just happens.

"Answer me, Sammy-"

Beep beep beep.