Just a late night drabble about how it might all end.
The ashes were still hot when Dean turned his back to the now-gone wood pile. He couldn't stay and watch the sun rise. He had to leave.
His car looked no different. He could see the plastic army men in the ash tray, his and his brother's initials, the cassettes he's listened to for decades, he knew he'd hear the stupid Legos if he turned the heat on. And he was about to. The cold was almost unbearable. It crept under his flannel, now that his beloved jacket was burned. But what else should he have used to cover his baby brother's body?
But why turn on the heat when it wouldn't change how fucking cold he felt?
He didn't drive far. He couldn't. He could barely see through the tears that started pouring down his face.
So he simply stopped the car. It was just another road, one like the thousand he had driven on his whole life. It stretched straight ahead for miles, no city or building or anything to be seen. Empty.
His eyes found their way to the spot he'd been trying to ignore. The seat next to him.
The black leather was well taken care of but his brother had left marks on the seat still. Scratches, spots from beer spilled while Dean had been driving too fast, a mold where his wheight used to be.
Empty.
He knew it wasn't what his brother would have wanted. They'd gone over this time and time again. They even experienced it before.
But this time... This time he wouldn't even think about trying. He knew his little brother was where he was supposed to be. In heaven. Reunited with Jess and their parents, his dog Bones, maybe some friends he'd never told his older brother about.
This time he was ready. Ready to give up.
He didn't care where he'd end up. Heaven, Hell, Purgatory. He didn't give a fuck, not anymore.
He put his own Colt Series 70 1911 on the seat that used to belong to Sam and took out Sam's gun.
A Taurus PT92. He had given it to him for Christmas, the year he had left for Stanford. Sam had kept it ever since.
It laid in his hands, cold from the chilly night, heavy.
When he lifted his hand he looked up. The sun was rising. The first day without his brother was just starting.
The sound of a gun being fired went completely unheard on the empty fields.
The only human being miles away had left, leaving his car cold and alone in the middle of the road. Empty.
"Took you long enough." Sam's smirk turns into a face covered by tears when he pulls his big brother into a long hug.
"Come on, we gotta light tjose fireworks now!"
Dean sticks his hands deep into the bags of his old leather jacket, the one he lost ages ago, and watches his little brother, now so much taller than he really was when they burned down the very field he was later burned on.
But the light reflecting in Dean's tear filled eyes comes from fireworks instead of a burning body.
While he feels the tears on his face drying off, Dean starts to smile.
Heaven.