At first, he thought he was dead. Blacked out, unconscious, and left his body peacefully. His last breath seemed to take forever.
Inhale……….
Exhale...and that was it. No more cheeseburgers, no more pie, no more sex and he's miss that the most. But even as the universe swirled and revolved around him, he was still aware.
Of the pain, the blood, the death that seemed to follow him like a stray rain cloud. There was no escaping. He was destined to live this life and he couldn't hide from destiny.
When he finally came to, he wished he was dead. The hit he had taken just didn't cut it, and he knew the angel bastards had probably altered the effect of the drug, making it harmless.
"Damnit," he wheezed his mouth bone dry and metallic tasting.
He knew he shouldn't be playing with fire like this; experimenting with dangerous hallucinogens when you're supposed to be leading an army against the Devil, was not the best of ideas. But Dean didn't care. He'd already lost the last of his family. Sammy stabbed to death just outside of Omaha, and Bobby shot with a 50 caliber rifle not long after. What did he have left to live for? Humanity?
Ha. That was fucking rich.
He was just conscious enough to hear the thick flutter of wings, the heavy echo of silence following the celestial being's entrance. Dean found it difficult to keep his eyes opened and focused.
This is it, he thought, I'm dying. For real.
But he wasn't dying, another false alarm. The angel laid a hand on Dean's shoulder and the hunter could practically taste the disappointment.
"You don't have to say anything," Dean rasped, his breaths short and shallow.
"Just leave me alone, Cas."
Dean felt the buildup of tears behind his eyes.
"Let me die already."
Dean knew just exactly what buttons to push to get the rebel angel to sympathize; finally understand and leave him alone to rot like he deserved. Eventually, Castiel would give in, leaving wordlessly, while Dean stared at a dark wall, so far gone even the best GPS money could buy couldn't lead him back.
"No, Dean."
Castiel's whispered response startled Dean.
No? No. What the hell do you mean "No"?!
Dean blinked repeatedly, trying desperately to focus on Castiel's blurry face.
"I can't let you do this to yourself," the angel whispered, a hint of despair in his tone, his body language. Dean rolled his eyes and a heavy bout of blackness swallowed him.
The last thing Dean sees consciously is Castiel's sad blue eyes, and dying really doesn't seem that bad.
END.