Title: Nothing Gold Can Stay.
Author: Nativestar
Pairing/Character: Dean. No pairings.
Disclaimer: I own nothing. Just playing.
Rating: PG, gen
Word Count: 741
Warnings/Spoilers: None.
Author Notes: Missing scene for In My Time of Dying. Written for spncontest using the prompt "Last Sunrise" where it came in second place. I've made a few minor changes since posting there.

Summary: Between the demon leaving and the paramedics arriving, Sam passes out and it's only then that Dean briefly regains consciousness.


Dean pushed his way to consciousness with a small gasp.

He blinked, trying to focus his eyes. It wasn't quite dark; there was a glow in the air, a soft light that was slowly banishing the shadows.

Morning.

They'd made it through to morning. He smiled, and felt slightly guilty that he'd ever doubted they would.

But now that he thought about it, shouldn't he be watching the sunrise from a hospital bed, not the backseat of his car? Why am I -

And he remembered.

He remembered the truck that slammed into his baby. The impact. The screeching metal. Then nothing.

But…he didn't hurt.

Nothing hurt.

Dean knew it should. He knew he should be in agony, but all he felt was…nothing.

Detached.

Like that time he'd dislocated his shoulder and Sam had insisted on an ER visit despite Dean's protests that they could deal with it themselves just fine. They'd given him something for the pain, he couldn't remember what, but the numbness and the feeling of being disconnected from both the pain and his body, felt just like this.

Looking down, he could see the damage, the streams of blood, and the way his chest was barely moving with each breath. But it was like he was watching someone else. It started to creep him out as he vaguely wondered if this was how the spirits they hunted felt.

Is this dying?

If this was --Sam. His brother's name exploded to the front of his thoughts. He needed to check on Sam. He was driving. Oh God. Sam was driving and his father was on the side of the impact and-- Are they okay?

He shifted his head until he could see them. Still and silent. No, dear God, no. He could only see part of his father's face, but there was blood running down it and Sam's head was tipped back against the seat in a position that had to be uncomfortable.

No.

They weren't dead. They were passed out or unconscious or sleeping, not dead. Anything but dead. He refused to even entertain the idea that he was the last Winchester alive. That wasn't how it worked. That was not how it was supposed to end.

"Sam." His voice was weak, a sibilant sound in a breath of air rather than a distinguishable word.

"Dad." Better, but not louder. It wasn't going to wake either of them.

He tried to move, but he was weaker than a kitten and slid forward only an inch before he started coughing, robbing him of air and choking on the blood in his mouth. His vision greyed out and it took a few minutes for him to regain both his sight and his breath.

Dad and Sam had both been injured, even before the accident, and he told himself that was the sole reason why they weren't waking easily. They needed rest, that's all. He'd let them rest. They'd be fine. Just fine.

He turned his head back towards the window. The suns rays were lighting up the field and he could hear the morning chorus. It was calm outside, a fresh start to a bright new day. The sky had now filled with color, from deep rusty reds to candyfloss pink, fading into blues and purples as the night sky clung on above him.

Dean liked sunrises, liked seeing them as the end of a hard night's work rather than as the start of the day. Sam was the opposite. Today was a stunning sunrise, beautiful. Although he'd die before he admitted it to Sam.

And somehow he knew. Right then, he just knew he was watching his last sunrise.

He wasn't coming back from this. No one could come back from this. There was no faith healer and if Sam even thought about doing something stupid then Dean would find some way of kicking his ass, even if he was dead.

This was it.

The thought didn't scare him. He hadn't expected to make it to thirty and he'd made his peace with that a long while ago. Hunting was a dangerous business and he'd figured sooner rather than later it was bound to catch up with him. I guess sooner is today.

Everything faded, and the sun became the bright spot of light at the end of a tunnel.

It wasn't the blaze of glory he'd imagined, but it was okay.

He was with his family.


Reviews are greatly appreciated and adored. Oh, and if anyone is wondering what I did with the truck driver, well he went to call for help.