Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural or the boys. They belong to Eric Kripke and co. I just borrow them.
He had enough. He couldn't keep going the way he was going, always protecting, always saving. He didn't have a life anymore, hell he never did. But something always made him stay where he was, something that made him think that if he left he would lose everything he had fought so hard to keep. It was only the beginning for him too. So many 'ifs' and 'buts' came to his mind as he kept walking, walking away from the only thing that had kept him whole for so long. He had enough; he wasn't going to do it anymore. He didn't need him anymore. So he was turning his back and never looking at the way he came.
He stumbled over a rock. He teetered for a moment, half balanced half not balanced. For that moment he just hung in the air before he went crashing into the ground, the shock travelling up through his knees and giving him a sharp pain. The air tensed and crackled with the nervous energy that emanated out of him. He waited for the heavy footsteps to come and the strong arms to pull him off the ground. They never came and he pushed himself up alone. Suddenly all the memories that had ever sustained him through their separation disappeared burned from his mind. Everything that he had given up on, all the things that he could have done in his life that he didn't, he had done for him. And here he was, pushing himself up when he had fallen, when all he had ever done was to pull him up whenever he needed him.
The thoughts stung at him more sharply then any of the bullets that he had ever placed into his body. All those times when something had happened and he had tried to tell him that there was something wrong and he had ignored him. All those warnings and signs that had been placed before him to do something about he had just shoved aside and ignored them. Ignored them like there was never a problem that they had to deal with. There was no point dwelling in the past now. He had decided that it was time for them to separate. Hell, he only had a year left; he had given his life for him so that he wouldn't have to leave him. He didn't want to be the last one, the last remaining shard of his family. Everyone else had died and left him behind, just so that he would remain on the earth. But why should he get to live?
That rock, maybe it was a sign from some higher power that this is what happened when he sacrificed everything for the last remaining person in his life. What's dead should stay dead. He had said that so many times, so many goddamn times, to everyone around him and he had just completely forgotten everything that he valued. He had died, he had watched him die in his arms and he couldn't bear to think what life would be without him. What's dead should stay dead. Why had he lost control of his life? Why did everything just derail on him? Making that deal had given him back some control and the one thing that meant anything to him. And now it had taken away his control. Sure, he was alive again- what's dead should stay dead- but he had lost him again. The way he had killed that man, there was no remorse.
And there had been no remorse when he had told him to get lost. Just the slam of the door and then the heavy 'clunk' as his duffel was tossed out after him. His calls were never answered and when he went back to tell him that he was being stupid and that they needed to stick together all he had received was silence. He could be so goddamn stubborn and annoying and he had needed him, to keep him grounded, to protect him when he had needed to be protected. He shrugged at himself and sat down on a nearby bench. The air was crisp and clear, it smelt like the rain. All around him people passed him by, no-one cared who he was or where he came from. They were all blissfully ignorant of the things around them. Pigeons fluttered and cooed around him, pecking at the ground for invisible traces of bread and crumbs. A shadow passed above him and he looked over to his right, the tired face of his father greeted his vision.
That was the last person he needed to see. The ghost of his father to come and pester him about duty and responsibility. Hell, he probably never knew the meanings of those words after their mom died. He snapped his arm out to the side and through the apparition of his deceased dad as gave a grim smile as it disappeared from his sight. He threw a grin at the ladies passing by and then focussed on the ground before him.
"You look pathetic, you know that Dean?"
"Go to hell Sam."
His brother took a seat beside him on the bench with his legs slightly apart and the perfect 'armrest' for his elbows. Sam's eyes were hidden beneath the large mop of unruly brown hair that usually only grew to about the bottom of his ears, but it was almost to his shoulders. Sam just gave him a taunting look and leant back against the base of the bench, taking in the soothing sights around him. He clasped his fingers behind his head and then turned to look at his older brother.
"Unfortunately that's probably where we'll both end up after this. Thanks to you of course Dean."
Dean stood up and faced his brother. Rage and hurt the only things that he could feel as he faced his younger sibling. Sam didn't know how much it had torn him apart when he had died, he just assumed that Dean couldn't live without him, and he was right. Dean ran a hand through his hair and growled as Sam laughed at him.
"Shut it. You don't know half of what I went through Sam. Don't you even dare."
"Don't even dare what? That maybe you were wrong and that I was meant to die? You screwed up Dean, and you are the biggest hypocrite I know. What's dead should stay dead, right Dean?"
Before he knew what was happening Dean had drawn his hand back and smacked his brother in the face. Blood pooled from Sam's nose and his lip was cut from where Dean's ring had impacted. A few people stopped and stared at them before quickly moving on. Dean nestled his hand and glared at Sam.
"You don't know Sammy. What it's like to lose everything you care about. To know that you're the last person and you're alone."
"You're right Dean. I don't. I've only ever experienced that several times. Remember the djinn Dean? Huh. You didn't even want to come back."
"But I did Sammy. I did come back, even when I could have stayed and been happy. I came back."
Sam gave him a hollow stare and pulled Dean back onto the seat next to him.
"You should have stayed. It would have solved everything. We'd both be dead and everything would have been alright."
"No Sammy, it wouldn't have been. All those innocent people we saved, they would have been dead. Those families that we kept together, we're saving what we never had."
Dean wrapped his fingers in his hair and stared at the ground. He felt Sam's hand on his shoulder and he turned to look at the brother who had so callously tossed him aside. He shrugged his hand off and sighed.
"Maybe its time to put ours back together. While we still can."
Dean looked at his brother with some surprise and a wistful expression on his face. Sam stood up and turned to him, offering him a hand to pull him up with. Dean let it hang there for a moment before took it and let his brother pull him up.
"Maybe it is."
A/N: This oneshot kinda came to me. Set after 'All Hell Breaks Loose: Part 2' and not really related to my other fics. Reviews are loved and appreciated, they help to advance my writing and know what I'm doing right. Anyway, I'll stop wasting space. Enjoy!