Author's Note: First off, this is a dark little drabble, so I apologize in advance. Second, I should mention I've never written an actual drabble before, so forgive me if I miss the mark with this (exactly 200 words without the A/Ns) piece. Finally, thanks for still being willing to read after I just said so much negative stuff about this! lol
Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural.
Sam has been hit several times, at least two of which I can already classify as fatal strikes. Blood is pooling on his chest, soaking his plaid shirt and staining my hands as I persist at the futile task of applying pressure to the wounds.
One of his arms comes up and his hand is suddenly fisting into the sleeve of my jacket. I place one of my hands over his.
"D…Dean?" My brother chokes out my name like a question and my heart breaks as I hear the confusion in his voice. It must've happened so fast he just didn't have time to process what was going on. He was dying before he knew he was being shot.
I continue kneeling there, trying to comfort him with empty words. "I'm here Sammy. I'm right with you. Everything's going to be ok."
But it already isn't.
He locks eyes with me and gives me a look that says more than words ever could. Then I see him draw in one last shuddering breath before his bullet-riddled chest falls and does not rise again.
"I'm right with you." I repeat, slowly reaching for my own pistol.
"Everything's going to be ok."
Secondary Author's Note: Thanks for reading! Please do leave a review. I would appreciate the feedback immensely. :D