Burn
The bar lights were slightly blurred in his inebriated state. The sight of her burned into his retinas. She was everywhere.
"I miss you!" He shouted into empty air. "Alright! Are you happy?!" He bowed his head kicking pebbles with his shoes. "It hurts when I think about you," He whispered. He prayed to every God he knew that she would be listening. "I just can't seem to stop thinking about you."
Dean could still see that old hardware store burning in the back of his mind. He reached for the handle of the Impala and wrenched the door open. He slid into the familiar seat, putting his hands on the steering wheel to calm himself. For some reason he had concluded that without her he would remain alone.
The stench of blood and salt had filled his nose as he looked down at her. "Make it later?" She smirked handing him her rifle. Dean nodded, he would do anything for her.
He could feel his heart breaking. A sentiment he thought to just be a figure of speech. He could feel his ribs stretching to give his heart room to explode. He leaned down, kissing her on the forehead. Not satisfied with the small gesture, he brought her up to his lips.
When they parted, Dean wasn't sure if the blood pooling on the ground was hers, or his. The pain in his chest so great he must have been showing a physical reaction.
Dean was still grieving from the words that were so plain, but so difficult so speak in those last few moments. He could feel his skin burn as if a hand had landed on his. He smiled knowing in his gut that it was her.
"I love you." He whispered.