He always knew his life would end like this, that he would die on a Hunt just like his dad, and Bobby, and all of the other Hunters he had ever know. He'd known not to expect too much from life. After all, any job could be his last.
The exact details hadn't mattered to him before, but now Dean was acutely aware of his surroundings- the Impala idled somewhere off to his left, purring reassuringly even now, as his own heartbeat stuttered and slowed. You've lost too much blood, a voice in his mind that sounded eerily like his father's reported. You're dying, kid.
"Tell me something I don't know," he muttered in reply, a thin laugh working its way out of his mouth that quickly turned into a series of painful, body-wracking coughs. "I'm dying…" he finally wheezed, the copper taste of blood on his tongue.
It became all too real to him; Dean Winchester was on his way out. For good this time, because there was no one left to bring him back.
Sam really was gone, it turned out. Cas had helped the older Winchester track down the lying bastard who had claimed his little brother's body as his vessel- Gadriel. That's what his name is. Was. When Castiel had turned to Dean, his wide blue eyes solemn and so heartbreakingly sorry, Dean had known his brother hadn't made it.
Without a second thought, he drove an angel blade through his brother's stomach even as the angel who possessed his body laughed.
"I'm going to bring him back," Dean said to Cas, his gaze fixed on the pattern of broken wings burned into the floor beneath his brother's body.
"You cannot."
"What in the hell do you mean I can't?" he demanded. "I've done it before and I'll do it again."
The angel put a hand on Dean's shoulder. "This is what Sam asked for. He told Death that he would only go with him if he made it so that no one could bring him back."
"No. Sammy would never do that." The Hunter shrugged off Cas' hand, his jaw clenching and unclenching, eyes flashing a bright, angry green.
"He did, Dean. He did not want you to sacrifice your life to bring him back." Castiel seemed almost dispassionate as he spoke, but Dean thought he heard a slight, almost inaudible hint of regret in his voice. "You do not believe me."
"No shit, Sherlock." Dean took one last look at his little brother's body, his face strangely calm, and walked past Cas, out the door, and to his Impala. "I'm gonna bring him back."
"Dean," the angel tried, but he was already firing up his Baby and driving away. Most likely to find the nearest crossroads. Castiel stood watch over Sam's body, waiting quietly as the hours passed. One day went by, then most of the next. He briefly contemplated giving the young man the Hunter's funeral he deserved, before deciding it would anger Dean.
The quiet rumble of the Impala's engine alerted Cas to Dean's return. "You were right," were the first words to leave his mouth. His eyes were dim and rimmed in red, and he angrily swiped at the tears that kept coursing down his cheeks no matter how hard he tried to contain them.
"Dean, I am sorry."
"Don't," he growled. "Just don't."
They worked together to burn Sam's body, piling branches in a huge pyre in a clearing less than a mile from where the young man had died. Castiel offered to carry Sam; he was an angel after all and far stronger than Dean. But he had just glared at the angel, somehow managing to lift his not-so little brother into his arms and carry him to the Impala.
Dean never took his eyes off the fire that consumed his little brother, even after it had burned down to coals and ash that drifted away in the light breeze.
"Where is he? Heaven or Hell?"
"I do not know, Dean."
"Where do you think he is?"
Cas answered carefully, "Before the Trials, I would have said Hell. Now, however…Sam was correct in believing that the Trials purified him, purified his very soul. He is likely in Heaven."
Dean nodded once, twice, then asked in a much quieter voice, "How about me, Cas? Am I going to Hell?"
"No. You were Michael's chosen vessel and as such, you were always meant to go to Heaven. Your soul was sent to Hell only because of the deal you made to save Sam."
"Good." He smiled tightly. "Thanks, Cas. For everything."
He left the angel standing by the smouldering ruins of the pyre and drove away, never looking back. Dean had done his damnedest to avoid looking back ever since, running as fast as his Impala would take him to avoid remembering his little brother. He took jobs scattered across the country, doing all of the research and Hunting by himself.
The smallest things would catch him off guard. He would turn to tell Sammy a joke in the Impala, only to see the empty passenger seat. Waking up in the morning after catching his four hours (who was he kidding, he barely slept anymore) he would instinctively look to the bed next to his. Empty. Sheets still carefully made up by the hotel staff, pillow fluffed and patiently waiting for Dean's kid brother to lay his head on them.
Dean finally admitted to himself after nearly a month that he was nothing without his brother. His earliest memories were that of his dad telling him to watch over Sammy, look out for Sammy, protect Sammy.
He had sold his soul for his little brother, not that it had turned out well in the end. He had been willing to sacrifice everything for Sam, and it all had been in vain.
Sure, they'd had their differences. Sam's going away to college for one, leaving him and dad to track down the Yellow Eyed Demon by themselves. Ruby and the demon blood. Sam not looking for him when he got trapped in purgatory. But in the end, they were still brothers. No matter what happened, no matter what they were going through, they were still family. He was the only family Dean had left. And now, Dean had no one.
He was cold, so very cold, a chill that ran all the way into his bones. Dean knew he didn't have long left to live. Absently, he wondered If Cas would answer his prayers, if the angel could get there in time to save him from his wounds.
Not that he was scared of death- far from it. He welcomed the chance to be with his brother again.
"De." That was Sammy's first word, Dean recalled suddenly. It struck the Hunter that he didn't know his brother's last words; he didn't know how long Gadriel had been impersonating Sam, how many weeks passed between the evil bastard kicking Sam out of his own body and Dean realizing that the angel didn't have the best of intentions in mind.
"I'm sorry, Sammy," he croaked, his gaze locked on the stars that hung low and shining in the night sky. "For not saving you. For everything." The whispered words were a faint plea for forgiveness, a benediction aimed at whoever happening to be listening. "Sammy…"
The Impala stood guard over the fallen Hunter, her engine rumbling until she ran out of gasoline. Silence descended on the empty field, broken only by the faint sound of wings. The ever-moving stars shone down coldly on Dean's still body, reflected in his empty, staring eyes.
"Goodbye, Dean Winchester," Castiel said softly. "Be at peace."
Author's Note: Thanks for taking the time to read my fic! Don't forget to leave a review and tell me what you think. Feel free to point out any grammatical errors, as I do not have a beta.