A head cannon I thought of last night in bed of how the end of supernatural will be.
Disclaimer: If I owned Supernatural Sam would be dead and Dean would be having sex with Castiel.
"It's over Sam."
Dean held Sam's limp body close to him. He rested his chin on his unconscious brother's shoulder and began to rock him gently, back and forth, while stroking his shaggy hair.
"We did it."
And they had.
"You're going to be okay, Sammy. We'll make it through this together."
They wouldn't.
"Sam! Sammy?"
Dean called to the younger male and sat down on the small bed. His son bounded into the room, "Can you tell me a story dad?"
Dean tucked the boy into bed and pulled the sheets up to his chest.
"Sure Sammy." He said with a small smile, "Want to hear the one about the Wendigo? The trickster?"
Sam frowned and shook his head. "I don't want another monster story."
"Well what do you want to hear then?"
A thoughtful expression on fell upon his son's face and Dean felt a small twinge in his gut. When Sam made that face he looked just like-
"What was uncle Cas like when he was younger?"
Dean chuckled; describing Castiel without profanities would be a challenge in itself. "He was... stiff...?" God, that seemed a little too light a term. Castiel had been a soldier through and through, never questioning an order... Then he met the Winchesters.
"How'd you meet him? Mom says he aint your brother." Dean sighed, this was going to be a long night of questions.
"I stabbed him." His son's hazel eyes widened upon hearing that statement.
"You stabbed him? Why?"
Dean hesitated, "When I was a...soldier...I met him and he just appeared out of nowhere. It was instinct! And and accident...ish!"
Sam nodded uncertainly and decided to change the subject. "What was grandma like?"
"You should know, you see her every Sunday."
"No I mean, like, your mom?"
Dean swallowed. He never really divulged much information to the seven year old. It had never been a problem in the past but these days he was getting more curious, asking more questions. He was smart and could always see a diversion. He really was a lot like-
"Was she nice?"
"Y-yeah... She was real nice. She used to sing a lot."
"Can you sing?"
At this Dean flashed a smile to the boy. "I may not be the best but I'll give it a go."
He lay down in the dim lamplight next to Sam and put an arm around the boy, almost protectively.
"Your grandma sang this to me a lot when I was little. I always fell asleep listening to her."
Sam looked at him curiously and asked one last thing, "Wait! Before I have to sleep...uh... Why don't you have any pictures of uncle-"
"No more questions buddy. It's late, you have school tomorrow." Dean interrupted before his son could finish the sentence.
"K...Will you still sing?"
"You bet'cha."
Dean inched closer to him and held him tightly. He was about to sing Hey Jude when he recalled another memory, an older one. It was a song he was familiar with and couldn't quite remember why he never dwelled on that moment with his mother longer. He opened his mouth and began to sing, "Carry on my wayward son," His voice was shaky and a little rough.
"There'll be peace when you are done." His chest felt tight and for a moment he felt young again, he was holding someone else, he was singing to his brother.
"Lay your weary head to rest." He saw him at Stanford standing by Jess. He felt the limp body in his arms and the blood flowing out of the stab wound in the man's back. He saw him weeping bitterly over his brother's, Dean's, body. He remembered the fear on his face when he realised Ruby had tricked him. He saw the look in his eyes before jumping into the pit. He recalled the soulless look he received from him that scared him so much. He felt the pain in his own being when he saw the bags under his eyes and the broken eyes staring into his own. He heard the shattered boy telling him that he was ready to give up and die for the trials. He remembered all of the shit they had gone through together, all the sacrifices and tears shed. He felt the rain pouring down around him and the flickering flames engulf his brother's body.
"Don't...Don't you cry no more..." Dean sniffed and felt himself shudder. He was crying. His son was asleep in his arms and he got up from the bed and walked into the hall, looking around. The kid was right;
Why didn't he have any pictures of Sam?
Hey! Uh... Well that was sad! Really Sad! Please review! I want to know how you liked it!