Hello to all ! Just another little ditty that was rolling around in my head and I needed to get out. I had thought it would just be a one-shot but I think I have changed my mind and may have to continue. Takes place immediately after Sam jumps into the pit in 5x22. I don't own anything SPN related. Shucks. Thanks to any who read and drop me a line to let me know what you think. Thanks again. :)
And with that bright light his brother is gone. Sam. Gone forever, cursed to spend eternity in Hell, in the cage with Lucifer and Michael. Dean is numb. He can't move from his position against the car. Damn it, he should have gotten up, he should have done something. Anything. He didn't even say one word. He just let his baby brother jump into that hole without even knowing how much he means to him. He just wants to die.
He needs to get over there. To the rings. To the last place he saw his brother. He grunts and moans and screams aloud as he begins to move. He begins to feel every cut, every bruise, every broken bone his battle with the Devil has left in its wake. But it doesn't matter, that won't stop him. He needs to get over there, needs to will his broken body to that spot. He needs to somehow be closer to his baby brother. And then he will let himself drift away. He can feel the blood seep through his shirt and sees it spill out onto the earth below. He can see the blackness start to cloud around the edge of his vision but he doesn't care. His death is long overdue and he won't fight it this time. There is nothing left to fight for. Nothing left to save. Nothing left to live for.
He crawls along the ground inch by inch, the need to stop and catch his breath increases in frequency as his body cries out for him to stop. But he doesn't listen to the signs, he urges himself on, and can feel a grim smile float wearily across his face as he finally reaches the patch of earth that just swallowed his brother. His hand grabs the rings from where they lay and he closes his fist to feel them against his skin. Sammy. He holds them so tightly that his nails draw blood on his palm. Thoughts tumble around aimlessly in his mind. Sammy. God, Sammy. Why couldn't I save you? I am the one who is supposed to suffer, not you. I am the one who deserves to suffer, not you. I am the one who started all of this, because I was too damn weak to fight Alistair. To fight Hell. I gave in and look at what it has cost us? I should have been the one to end it. Me. I failed you again. I am so, so sorry Sammy.
Dean rises to his knees and rocks slowly, tears stream in an unrelenting wave down his battered face, the sting of them cuts into each gash displayed against his once handsome features. He is broken. In every possible, conceivable way. He does not wipe the tears away, just lets them fall, lets his chest heave and his pain agonize him. It is almost time, he can feel his body begin to shut down. And that is just fine with him. Because he doesn't want to feel. Doesn't want to be. Doesn't want to live.
TBC...