You know the calm associated with panic? Having the peace of mind that one day this is going to end. One day the pain will stop.
Even as you're drowning in panic and self-doubt you hold onto the idea of this is temporary. It's always been temporary. you knew from the start. What begins must end. What starts must finish. what lives must die. The story will end. The book will run out of pages. The credits will roll.
_
As you lay in a puddle of yours and your brother's blood, you just know. Yes, this has happened so many times before but this just feels different. All the times before you didn't want it to end. You always said, "The fight isn't over until I say." However, this time you don't want to keep fighting.
You look to your left. Sam is there. You've got absolutely no idea if he's even still...
Panic. He doesn't deserve this.
You sharply inhale the stale air. Holding it in giving yourself a second before "Sammy..." it barely came out above a whisper. You're dying and you know it.
You use all the strength you have left in your body just to slide yourself a couple of inches closer to him. You reach your bloody hand out. Taking his in yours.
Everything is quiet. The only sound being both your ragged breaths. It gives you a strange sense of comfort. Sammy is still here but you know deep down it's over for the both of you.
"Dean?..." You hear your brother rasps out.
"Goodnight Sammy." You feel a trickle of warm tears down your face before the pain stops.
_
You're okay now. You're with Joe and Elle, Ash, Sam, Charlie, Bobby, Mom, everyone that has ever meant something. Hell, even Dads there.