Dean limped down the hall, carrying a half dead Sam with him. They were both beaten and severely bloodied. He managed to get to the black car, a beautiful black 1967 Chevy Impala, or know to Dean as Baby. He opened the door and got into the car, pulling Sam in. Blood dripped from Dean's mouth. He slumped over in the driver's seat, looking at Sam after catching his breath. "S-sammy?" he whispered, hoping for some sort of reply, but getting none. Blood now stained the front seats of the car, but Dean did not care. "Sammy wake up." He said, slowly moving over to his little brother. He nudged him, but his strength was fading. "I-I'll call Cas… He'll fix… he'll fix us." He said. He checked Sam's neck for a pulse, finding a faint one. "S-sammy p-please wake up. Do something." Dean says, Sam's heartbeat fading by every passing second. Dean had tears falling. "Please" He whispered. Sam's breathing stopped. "No…" Dean said. He fell back into his seat, unable to gather any more strength. His breathing slowed, but he didn't care. Sam was dead, and soon he'd be too. Dean looked over at his brother one last time, hoping to God that there was a small chance his little brother was alive. He blamed himself. He should've protected him. He should have done something, anything. And then his emerald green eyes closed, his chest no longer moving. The Winchester brothers had died doing what they'd been doing their whole lives. And this time they wouldn't be coming back.
A hunter drove up to the Impala. The brothers had been missing from the motel for several hours after they said they'd be back. He saw the trail of blood leading to the car, and he saw the two bodies in the car. His eyes widened but he wasn't really shocked. Hunters never lived a full life, as the hunting life was dangerous with a promise of death. But the hunter couldn't help but blame himself. He set them up on the hunt because he couldn't handle it by himself. He called several other hunters, alerting them to what happened. They arrived, taking the bodies out while they latched the Impala to a tow truck. He would sell it to another hunter, It would be what Dean would've wanted. He brought it to his garage, cleaning it up but not getting rid of anything. Meanwhile, the two hunters brought the bodies of Sam and Dean to a forest. They dug graves, putting the brothers into poorly made wooden coffins. Together in death, as they had been in life. They didn't to the usual salting and burning, because second to hunting, dying was the thing they did the most. They buried the bodies, putting up little rocks with their names on them, poorly chiseled by a knife. The two hunters then got up and left. A month passed, then two. Life went on as normally, but the Winchester name was not forgotten. Especially not by one certain person…
End Chapter one