Summary: "Oh God, Dean...its either you or him..and I can't kill him..I just can't" Dean always said he'd protect Sam. When they were younger it was simple, there was a clear line between Dean the tough one and Sam the young one, but now as adulthood sets in the lines are crossed and who ends up saving who when both are near the end?
"The Emptiness We Create"
Prologue:The End.
"I'm sorry, Jesus for all it's worth I am sorry….." she thought to herself, hoping on some level that he would just hear her, the thick translucent knots of her words lost forever if he didn't, vacant of breath that would grant them sound. He was looking at her, from the position of the tiled floor, hands bound behind his back with heavily rusted chains, caked with only god knows what…or even who. If she had the time or energy to revel at his beauty she would have stared at his face all day, coercing herself into believing he was her only savior. But she didn't want to look, couldn't bare to know that the bright flame which tore its way through his irises and ignited such a noble look at him, the flame which she had once loved, she couldn't bring herself to comprehend that she would be the only one to put it out. "Oh god, Dean..its either you or him..and I can't kill him..I just can't" She absentmindedly rotated the metallic dagger, pseudo wooden handle carved with her name flipped and twisted as she dared to throw it higher and higher into the damp cellar air. Bordering on hysterics now and without a moments notice, she sent the dagger slamming into his naked chest and watched horrifically aware of her own disgust as he writhed and roared in unabashed agony. The dagger sunk easily into his heavily contracted muscles forcing a torrent of blood to rise and spill out over the cleanly opened wound.
She knew then as the knife just cradled the bone some where buried within its fleshy confines that she would have gladly died to save him.
"Dean."
His head had dipped to hang on his chest, but at the sound of his name he cocked it slightly so she could see his eyes, misted with a veil of stubborn tears which glittered like tiny frosted jewels along the thicket of his eye lashes.
"Please-
She whimpered, crouching down onto her knees and showing no emotion until she ripped the dagger away. The scream which followed she wouldn't have believed until it cleaved it way out of his lungs and exploded into an agonizing wail; in the intensity of the moment she began to cry with him, acutely aware of his pain coursing through her limbs and giving anything to share his injures and the burden of impending death.
"Oh god, Dean….oh god!"
He grunted, catching a scream lulling on his tongue with clenched teeth "Please-"
"I'm sorry I have to-
He mustered the strength to shake his head "no… not that, just please don't kill Sammy."
Dean was shivering violently, although the tendrils of iridescent sweat seemed indicative to the fact. His eyes, two beautiful amber orbs where already clouding over with the notion of eternity and she desperately clutched at the memory of his face when he had told her once "I would do anything to save Sammy.".
"Dean, it's why I'm doing this…I gotta save him y'know it was either you or him…and I gotta save him."
His white teeth flashed against a back drop of blood. It was frighteningly graphic to see it cascade in to many torrents down his chin and it was almost mystifying to her as the blood so casually dribbled past the bulbous of his chin and collected in a pool among the valleys in his chest.
She fell back and let the dagger slip like quick sliver out of her numbed finger tips, the sound it made echoing through out the sparsely decorated room like a warning bell for the reaper who was slowly descending down upon a knew forsaken soul.
As if reading her thoughts he spoke "looks like they've finally got what they want huh."
Perplexed she stared at him "Who?"
He laughed, but in his state it came out as a ragged wheeze as air desperately tried to claw its way out of his waning lungs "Those..who ah…live upstairs."
His left index finger rose as an indication to what he meant.
The statement had taken its toll on him, his body began to convulse with spasms contorting his body as he fought against the ticking clock which was slowly ebbing away at the life blood flowing through his restricting veins.
"Finish it, now..don't let me die like this. Please just finish it."
"Ok…ok this is it…I will grant you this one wish."
She fumbled for the blade which she'd thrown be her side, wondering why now it felt so alien to her. Crawling over to him, she took his large hand which was providing a tourniquet for the wound and wrapped it around her. She laid her head against his face, with her free hand pushing back the mop of hair which had been flattened against his brow from the forming of sweat.
"Do you remember when we were kids and we used to play hide and seek and y'all would always forget to find me? I would wait in one of the vacant motel rooms for ages until my ma would come busting down your door demanding where I was?" she whispered into his ear.
He nodded against her.
She kissed the slash of bone which was his jaw "go back to that time Dean, wait for us there and we won't be long."
"Just do it, Kid…end it." He begged. She went to lift the dagger but felt the weight of his death to heavy.
Frenzied with the notion of his end and with the paroxysm of pain which welled amongst the arteries in her heart, she let her hand slip the side. "I can't fucking kill you!" she wept.
He heaved in the breath which was a luxury to him now.
"Yes you can, for my brother… for me, you gotta end this now..you started it, now end it." His hand slid down her forearm to catch hers which was still curled around the knife and she let him bring it up to nestle beside the smooth flesh of his breast.
"Do it..Kid."
"No!" she wailed.
"End this!" he screamed, yanking her off him so that she was hunched over him legs straddling his waist and hands raised, quaking with the dagger directed at his heart.
"Oh God…Dean!" she let the final hysterically scream erupt out of her, as if it came not from her lungs but from her breaking heart itself.
In the space of a moment she brought the dagger down, pretending not to feel it being swallowed by a mass of pliant skin then to be amerced in a shock of blood and wondered when it pierced his heart if that had been the time when hers had stopped beating altogether.
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-Bex