Title: Now Comes the Night: When the Hour is Upon Us, You Will Not Be Alone
Fandom: Supernatural
Rating: PG
Warnings: I don't believe in them. Seriously. This is a read at your own risk situation.
Spoilers: Inspired by 4x21, but I'm not sure there are any real spoilers, exactly.
Disclaimer: I own nothing...
Summary: No I will not leave you crying, I will not let you down.
A/N: I wrote this quite some time ago, but for whatever reason, I never got around to posting it here—it's been sitting around my Livejournal for four years. It was originally posted on May 13, 2009—and I swear to god, it is entirely a coincidence that I stumbled upon it again today. The original version continued on for a different ending—I think it's much more effective without it, so it has been omitted here.
Title and lyrics from "Now Comes the Night" by Rob Thomas.
Now Comes the Night: When the Hour is Upon Us, You Will Not Be Alone
When the hour is upon us
And our beauty is surely gone
No you will not be forgotten
And you will not be alone
He's curled into his brother's side; head cradled gently in Dean's arms, as the blood drips slowly from the both of them. He can feel his brother's heartbeat beneath his ear, steady, but slowing, and he knows his own is beating in rhythm, right along with Dean's.
It's strange.
He still doesn't know how they got here.
Can't understand how Dean can be so forgiving.
But the way those fingers card through his blood soaked hair, and the gentle trace of fingers along his jaw remind him that this is his big brother. And it doesn't matter what he's done, or what he's become, because Dean will always love him. Always protect him.
Fingers play in the blood that mars the soft skin near his brother's wrist.
They have done this to one another.
He barely remembers the fight.
Remembers only Dean's words. Then kill me. Because I won't live without you. You go, I go.
He's not sure it made sense exactly, but he thinks he understands. The fight was okay, because when it was all over, they both knew, neither would be walking away—but had it meant Dean would have to go on without Sam, his brother would not have been capable of making that sacrifice. Dean was willing to die without Sam, but he would never be prepared to live without him.
It's all or nothing between them. Always has been.
A tear drips and dilutes the blood beneath his fingertips.
"It's okay, Sammy." Dean's fingers never still as the words leave his lips in a whisper. "We'll be together. Won't ever separate us."
"How do you know they'll let me in?" Fingers curl around Dean's thigh, and his head feels heavy, so he lets it slip lower into his brother's lap. He feels like he's six years old again, and crawling into his big brother's bed because the nightmares feel so, so real. Who could've known they'd be so much worse?
"Made a deal." It's strained and weak, and that steady thrumming is slowing and Sam's eyes are so full, but no more tears fall, just dangle on the precipice. Much like his life. Their life. "Made them promise to keep you. Only way I'd agree, was if they let you in with me… Said all they needed was one little gesture to prove you weren't completely gone."
Sam remembers the brutal fight. Remembers lying on the floor, feeling the blood drip from his body. Remembers seeing his brother, back slumped against the wall, barely clinging to life. Remembers the rush of regret and guilt and love and longing.
Remembers crawling into his big brother's open arms and tucking himself into his side so nothing could ever separate them.
"How'd you know I wasn't?"
Dean smiles. He can't see it, but he feels the warmth, and hears it in his brother's voice.
"You're my Sammy. No one can ever change that. I know you, Sam. I know the kind of man you are. You're a good man. A hero. You just went about it wrong."
"I killed you." Tears fall, and Dean's fingers soothe through his hair at the rush, a constant, sure pressure that whispers I'm here over and over and over again.
"Killed you right back." Feeble attempt at a joke, and Sam can't take it anymore. Full out sobs, and drops his face to press into his brother's knee while he shakes and trembles with the force of his sorrow. Feels the drops of Dean's tears on the skin of his neck. Hears the telltale quiver in his big brother's voice. "It's our time, Sammy." A careful pause and a shaky breath. "It's just our time."
And when the day has all but ended
And our echo starts to fade
No you will not be alone then
And you will not be afraid
No you will not be afraid
"What if they don't take me?" He's not sure he's ever trusted the angels, but he trusts Dean—just wants a tiny bit of comfort here, in this cold, cold place.
"Then I'll follow you right back down to hell. And it'll be just a little bit more bearable, 'cause it'll be you 'n me."
There's a telltale slur in Dean's words. It's all truth, one hundred percent, but Dean's fading, and so is Sam; the darkness of death seeping in and pulling him away, and he doesn't want to leave, because he's afraid there's no such thing as free will when it comes to heaven and hell, and he thinks there's no way he's getting into heaven, and there's no way heaven's letting his big brother go…
This could be the last moment he ever spends with the only person in his life who has ever really mattered…
"Love you, Dean."
It's an afterthought. A phrase vocalized on the edge of death that he's suddenly realized he hasn't said in far too long.
And just when he thinks it's over and the darkness is closing in, he hears it, and that world behind his closed eyes lights into a sparkling paradise.
Love you, too, Sammy. Always.
Now comes the night
Feel it fading away
And the soul underneath
Is it all that remains
So just slide over here
Leave your fear in the fray
Let us hold to each other
Till the end of our days