A/U Fic ahead
This is probably just going to be a one-shot, but if enough people want more I might make it longer. Also this is set in one of the earlier seasons, a bit after Dean came back from Hell.
Enjoy your cry-fest.
After all the literal hell they'd been through, he never quite imagined it would end like this. He always fantasized that he would go down swinging, not lying in a pool of his own blood as he watched the life ebb from his brother's eyes.
But at least Sam was beside him, as always. Just this once, though, Dean wished he wasn't. He wished he hadn't dragged his little brother through all this, wished he hadn't involved him in this life. He wished he left his brother at college, where he would've been happy and safe. He wished he'd never even heard of hunting, and that he could still believe there were no such thing as actual demons and monsters.
But that couldn't happen.
Not anymore.
He pushed his innocent little brother into a life he didn't want, and for good reason. And the heart-wrencher of it all: his brother had trusted him. Still did. He willingly followed him, not to hunt and kill, but to help. His brother didn't deserve this. But he was stuck with it.
He could hear Sam beside him now. He was gasping, trying to breathe. The panicky throes of a slow death were looming on them both, but there would be no help this time. No angels to pull them out, no medicine man to bring them back from the brink of death.
They had failed.
But, in a way, they also won. They showed the world that nothing can defy death. Not demons. Not angels. Not vampires or werewolves: everything came to an end.
Even the Winchesters.
Castiel was already gone. He seemed hopeful. Happy, even. He had one of those rare smiles that lit up his face, admittedly a little dulled by his bloodied appearance.
They found him before they were attacked. He was at peace. Smiling like an idiot. Cast out of Heaven, only to return months later. His whispered words still echoed in Dean's ears, a battle cry- This isn't the end, Dean. It's just a new beginning.
Words he had heard before.
He wished he could believe them now. But he was done wishing.
Sam was getting quiet. Dean felt for his hand, bloody and cold. He gripped it tight, holding onto it like the last dregs of life.
Dean didn't want to die, but it was inevitable.
For once in his short life, he didn't feel like fighting that.
"Dean. . ." Sam choked. He tried to move closer, looking for any bit of comfort amid the blood pooling rapidly around them.
"Ssh, Sam, it's okay. It's okay, we're okay," It wasn't. But he was too tired to demonstrate that in his actions.
He couldn't feel anything anymore, physically, at least.
He was in shock. His brother was worse off.
He wanted his brother to feel the same peace he did. Dean needed him to.
"Hey Jude-" His shaky voice, laced with tears as he whisper-hummed the words to the song.
"Don't make it bad. Take a sad song and make it better-"
Sam started humming along the lyrics to the song his mother used to sing to him every night when he was little.
Gradually, at the beginning of the second verse, the humming started to fade away. Dean felt the hand he was gripping go limp, but he didn't let go.
"Sam?" Silence.
"Sammy?" A choked sob warbled the name.
"Sammy, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Sammy." Dean was crying now, but he was too tired to care.
Still silence. Dean felt the tears on his face, which felt hot against his cold skin.
"G'night, Sammy."
Silence.