Aeryn Saunders had been hunting with the Winchesters for a long time. Almost five years, she was sure. They met by chance. She bumped into them on a hunt, literally. She walked straight into Sam Winchester's chest, said something witty and charming - she hoped, at least - and went on her way. She met them the next day, in a cemetery where she was burning bones nevertheless, and that was it. She'd asked to hunt with them for a while, and they said 'why not'.

Aeryn Saunders loved the Winchesters with every fibre of her being. They were her family. Sam was the annoying, genius brother and Dean was the man she'd somehow allowed herself to fall in love with. Aeryn's control over her feelings was something she had once been proud of, but somehow she fell. She fell slowly, but it was still hard, for Dean Winchester. Dean Winchester, who'd do anything to protect his baby brother. Dean Winchester, who secretly loved a specific soap opera about a sexy doctor. Dean Winchester, who stitched-up Aeryn's hard-to-reach wounds. Dean Winchester who'd driven her all the way to Colorado so she could watch her sister play in a soccer match, even though she wouldn't ever find out that Aeryn had been there.

She never thought she'd have to say goodbye - and she had to say it so many times. The doctor told her to say her goodbyes to Dean within the first few months of meeting him, after he'd been electricuted. She'd been told to say goodbye to Dean after the three of them, plus John Winchester, had been hit by a car driven by a demon. Less than a year later, she'd been forced to say goodbye to Sam when he'd been stabbed in the spine. A year after that, she'd had to say goodbye to Dean's mutilated corpse.

She never thought she'd had to say goodbye, but there she was. It was the last time she'd say goodbye, she could feel it, because this time, she was the one dying. She had no younger brother that'd find a faith healer for her. She had no Father or older brother that'd sell their soul for her. She had no Angel to resurrect her. The Winchesters had it rough, but at least they had each other. Aeryn was thankful, so very thankful, that she got to spend her last few years hunting with the Winchesters.

They were watching her as Doctor Deveraux told her that they would make her as comfortable as possible for her passing. She suppressed the urge to snort; comfortable? She had a gaping wound in her stomach, a bullet wound in her arm and she had lost all feeling in her legs a little over two hours ago. Aeryn wouldn't be comfortable when she died; she was going to be uncomfortable and in pain, but she'd be okay, she'd be fine, because the Winchesters were right there.

"You're dying because of me." Dean spoke, staring down at Aeryn guiltily. Aeryn shook her head.

"It's not your fault." She croaked, "I didn't know monsters impaled people nowadays."

"I shot you." He huffed, pointing at the bullet wound.

"You shot the monster, too." She shrugged, "It's fine, Dean. I'm dying, so what? Hunters die all the time."

"You're not just any hunter, though." Sam muttered, "You're Aeryn Saunders."

"You... you two are the- are the only people to..." She groaned, "To know m-me."

"Dammit, where's Cas?" Dean spun away from the bed hiding his face behind his hands. Aeryn reached towards him, wincing at the pain it caused her bullet wound.

"Dean."

He turned back to her, allowing his arm to drop to his side. She could see why he had turned away; could see the tears that were threatening to fall. She looked at Sam. His tears had already began falling: The Winchesters were crying over her, and it was the worst possible feeling.

"Don't cry." She forced out a laugh, "We had a good run, didn't we? We-we've fought monsters... and d-demons and- and Angels, guys. Angels. Y-You'll be f-fine without me. We've just... we've got to... to say good-goodbye now."

"No." Dean shook his head, "Cas is gonna get here, Aer. He's gonna pull some Angelic magic and you're going to live. You're not dying here."

"I am." She looked towards the ceiling, her vision blurred, "You've... you've gotta check- check up on... on Braelyn... ok? Make sure... make sure she's still... still laughing. Always."

"Yeah, of course." Sam whispered, taking her hand in his, "It's been great hunting with you, Aeryn."

She was crying, now, "Likewise."

"Why're you saying goodbye? We're not letting her die, Sam!"

"Dean." Sam looked towards his brother, "Cas isn't coming. You know he's not. No Angels are coming. Are you going to say goodbye? Or are you going to be a dick and ignore the fact that Aeryn's got like, what, three minutes left alive?"

Dean stared at his brother for a moment before dropping into the plastic chair by Aeryn's bed, taking her free hand in his. He smiled at her, but it was shaky, forced, and he wiped at his tears using the back of his hand, "I didn't mean to shoot you."

"You know... that shot is-isn't what's... what's killing me." Aeryn inhaled, "It's the... the huge hole in my... my stomach. I was... I was dead the moment it went... went through."

"I should've looked after you." He said, "I shouldn't have let it get to you."

"It's... it's okay, Dean. It's... it's not your fault." She smiled. A figure appeared in the corner of the room, dressed in a smart black suit with his hands linked in front of him.

"I don't want to say goodbye."

"You... you have to-to do it so-soon." She whispered, "My... my ride's here."

"Your ride?" Sam wondered, furrowing his brows.

"Reaper."

"So, this is it, then?" Dean brushed the sweat-slicked hair from her face, "I have to say goodbye?"

"Yeah." She nodded once, "This is... this is it."

"Goodbye, Aeryn." He cupped her face in his hand, "It was... it was great hunting with you."

"I-I love you... you guys."

"We love you, too."

Aeryn had been hunting with the Winchesters for almost five years, and when the Reaper's hand came down on her head, it all flashed before her eyes. The Wendigo and the Poltergeist. Azazel and the Special Children. Lisa and Ben. Angels and Demons. Lucifer. Dying. Most of all, she remembered the warning she got as an amateur hunter, from a middle-aged, more experienced hunter:

"Stay away from the Winchesters, they'll only get you killed."