This first work isn't my own, in fact I found this on Tumblr. I asked the user if I could use it as a prologue to a fanfiction I'm going to write. The link to the tumblr is .com. P.S If you really want this to stick, listen to "Carry On My Wayward Son" (Lullaby version) while reading.
As the music starts, the camera shows the sightless eyes of Kevin Tran, lying on the floor, weak body from starvation and sleepless nights apparent. The camera moves to show his mother, Mrs. Tran, lying next to him. Both of them tried to shield the other in the chaos and blood. They lie dead together.
The next scene shows Garth, lying on the ground, Bobby's cap lying beside him, stained with blood. He is loosely holding a rifle, which contained salt, in an attempt to fight them off. To win once and for all. The salt is scattered on the ground around him. His body remains there until decayed.
The camera comes up from the ground to reveal the blank face of Sam Winchester, the one Azazel chose, the one who threw himself into hell for the good of earth. He lies, jacket stained, separated from his brother and his friends. He never got the family or the happy ending he wanted. His hair is stained and chopped, uneven in places. The blood drips down the side of his face, mirroring Jess.
Finally, we see Dean and Castiel, dead on the ground. The scorch mark of Castieltiel's wings cover the ground and Dean's face and body, shielded by an angel until the very end. A gold amulet on the ground next to him, fallen out of his ripped trench coat. Dean clutches a demon blade, covered in blood, but more of his own than of the enemy. His body lies close to Castiel, destined to remain together since he was raised from hell. They are now burnt and broken shells of men and angels. But they knew their only purpose.
In the corner of the field, hidden away in a presumably good parking spot, is the Impala, where it has been for a while, and will continue to be there until the trees and plants grow around it, crushing the windows, demolishing the rust, moulding the leather seats. The army men will be consumed by the soil, and in many years time, decompose. This car will be like any other old car seen abandoned in a field or on a road. Its age will show when Dean is not present to take care of her. The heater will never rattle again.
People will find the bodies, perhaps, and catalogue them as John or Jane Does, unknown to the world, unknown to the great service they gave them. They all gave their lives. And in return we live ours for them.
The camera fades to black.
