You die as you were always going to die—together.
Asha and Judah told you not to go. There's too many croats, too many monsters, but you didn't listen, as usual. "Saving people", you said, and Cas finished the sentence for you. "Hunting things."
You told the girls you'd be back. You think now that you should have apologized in advance for dying, but there's nothing you can do now, there's no way you can move, no way they'll come looking for you until you've lost too much blood and you're both dead.
How does the poem go? This is the way the world ends, not with a bang but a whimper. You quote the words to Cas, and he turns his head, blood trickling from his eye, and smiles a little at you. "Nice." He says.
The floor is cold and your fingers are going numb from the blood seeping from the holes in your stomach and the gashes in your leg.
"Apologies," Cas says. "We should have come in the back," he pants, one hand sticking out of the wound in his side, trying to hold back the blood flow.
"That looks pretty damn bad," you say. "Asha's gonna be mad."
He coughs, you see tears blinking in his eyes, and he's looking at the ceiling, at the patterns of cracking plaster and water stains. "I kissed her goodbye, do you think she'll forgive me?"
You want to swear violently, but you've been trying to give up the habit. "I think you'll probably have to grovel a bit before she kisses you again," you say, trying to laugh.
Cas is quiet for a minute, breathing Asha's name in between slow tears dripping down his face. You manage to move your hand with great effort, lay it woodenly on one of his. "I'm sorry, Cas."
"It's been a good life, Dean. It's…" Cas is gasping. "oh god, oh god, Dean I can't leave her alone—"
"Cas, calm down, okay?" You say, your fingers rubbing his. "Judah…Judah'll take care of her. They're both smarter than either of us."
Damnit, now you're going to cry, thinking of her, thinking of how you promised her that you'd look after yourself, that you'd give her half a chance to know the real Dean Winchester, the decent one.
"Dean—"
"Damnit, sorry."
"It's okay, Dean. Remember, you always said we'd die bloody? At least we're not dying alone."
Trust Cas, clinging to the bright side. "Yeah, there's a real silver lining."
"There's heaven, too." Cas says contemplatively, then sucks in a sharp breath from the pain. "There's…there's Sam."
"You really think we're gonna get to heaven after all this?" You say, but it's not really from disbelief. That's the other thing you've been trying to learn to do—have some hope once and a while.
"I'm fairly certain of it," Cas says. "And maybe it was time."
"If you say so, Cas."
"I do."
You nod, groaning from the pain and trying to shift your position. Your head feels woozy, like someone is shutting the electricity down one station at a time.
You allow yourself to think of Sam, just for a minute. You make yourself think of his smile and you imagine touching him again, feeling his arms wrap around you. Heaven, eh?
You hope Cas is right. You almost believe he is.
"Dean?" Cas says, his hand flailing in the air, reaching for you. You stretch, wince, and grab it. His fingers are white, the colour of angel wings as you've always imagined them. "Dean, I think the blood loss is going to kill me."
"Nice deduction, Sherlock," you say softly. "You okay?"
"I think I am."
You look at him through your slowly dimming vision and see that he's smiling through his tears, blue eyes clouded over, but still bright as they glance at you.
"Me too, Cas," You say, and scuffle your way over till you're pressed against him, dying together.
Blood pools around the two heads leaning together to keep each other warm.
This is the way the world ends. Not with a bang but a whimper.
And a sigh, and two words each before the lights flicker off and their glowing, flaming souls are untethered from flesh, leaving only the sad, strained, overburdened vessels behind.
"Goodbye, Cas."
"Goodbye Dean."