Shatter Point

Sam sat with Dean, still holding Lauren's other hand, unable to really comprehend it all, torn between his own grief and the need to help his brother through this.

John's voice broke the silence, "Dean, we'll wait for you at the car."

Sam looked up at him, shaking his head no. "She asked me to stay with him," he said quietly, but Dean just shook his head and motioned toward the door for them to leave. For once, his father knew exactly what he needed.

Dean held her body in his arms and stared down at her. This isn't happening, this can't be happening, it's a nightmare. I will wake up from this and she'll still be here. I'm not hunting the demon anymore; we'll just go back to a normal life. I'll convince her somehow, because I cannot live without her. I just can't. Stay calm, be in control, it's okay; it's just a dream, just a really bad dream. Wake up Dean, wake up!

Deep down, Dean knew that this was no dream. He knew this because the voice was still there, taunting him, reminding him that he will never be happy. That every good thing that came into his life came at a price, and he would never be paid in full.

Daybreak began to creep in through rusted holes in the roof of the warehouse, illuminating his surroundings. A beam of sunlight fell on Lauren's face and for that moment, she was the girl he'd fallen in love with all those years ago, before she knew about demons and death, before Angel. He brushed the hair back from her eyes, and wiped the blood from her face with his shirt, smiling down at her, tracing the laugh lines around her eyes and mouth with his finger, memorizing again the features he knew better than his own. Memorizing them, because in a very short time, he was never going to see those features again and all he would have would be his memories. He leaned down and kissed her forehead as he had done so many times before; watching for the smile that always greeted him after that gesture, but it never appeared.

An hour later, Dean walked silently out to the car, carrying Lauren delicately in his arms. Sam opened the door to the back seat and allowed him to get in, closing the door behind him, not saying a word.

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In the days following Lauren's death, Dean went through all the motions like a robot. They had brought her body back to Tampa for cremation and the funeral ceremony. Sam had made all of the arrangements because Dean hadn't spoken a word since Lauren died.

Afterward, Dean and Sam went back to Lauren's house. Dean stood in the bedroom he and Lauren had shared and stared out the window. He heard the doorbell ring, heard Sam say, "Hi Dad," and invite him in. He heard the door to the bedroom open and his father say, "Can I come in?" He heard his father's footsteps as he approached him.

"Dean," he started.

"You knew, didn't you? You knew what she had planned," Dean said almost inaudibly.

"Yes, I knew," John said simply.

"How long did you know?" Dean asked.

"Dean…"

"How long?" Dean repeated.

"A few days after Angel's funeral, Lauren called me from the cabin at the lake and wanted me to help her figure out what the nightmares meant. It took about a month to piece most of it together."

"You knew for over a year that she was going to die, and you said nothing," Dean said, his voice barely above a whisper.

"I knew what Lauren wanted most was to get rid of the things that haunt you so that you could be happy. She knew you wouldn't let her do this, so she asked me to keep her secret. She loved you Dean, she just wanted to be a family again."

Dean turned to face John, his eyes full of tears. "And now she's dead and I have nothing! This is all your fault!" Dean yelled, pointing at his father before turning away again.

"Dean, I tried to talk her out of it once we realized the risk. We weren't sure of anything except that it was the only way to get rid of the demon for good."

"I don't care about the damn demon, I just want her back!" his voice caught in his throat.

John put a hand on Dean's shoulder, but Dean turned around and punched him in the face. He stumbled backward, felt the warmth, and tasted the blood on his lips.

"I deserved that. I deserve a lot worse. I'm sorry Dean," John said.

"No, I'm sorry," Dean shouted. "I'm sorry that I ever followed you on this stupid crusade to begin with. I'm sorry I ever listened to anything you had to say. I'm sorry for all the years that I lost with Lauren and Angel because you thought you knew how to protect me. This isn't protection Dad; this is hell. And you put me here!"

"Dean,"

"Go. Get out. Get out of this house and get out of my life. I never want to see you again," Dean said evenly.

"Fine, I'll go, but I need to give you this first," John said, reaching into his shirt pocket to pull out a dusty old envelope. "Lauren sent me this on Angel's first birthday. It contains her final wishes at that time. I don't think they've changed. I'd give anything to change what happened, to bring her back. I'm sorry Dean; I know I'm not perfect, but I've always tried to do what's best for you. That's what fathers do."

"My father died when I was four years old," Dean said quietly as he turned back to the window.

Dean stared at the urn containing Lauren's ashes sitting on top of the dresser. He sat down heavily on the bed and looked at the envelope John had handed him. He pulled the single sheet of paper out and stared down at Lauren's handwriting:

John,

I wanted to send along some pictures of Angel, since it's the only real connection she can have with her father's side of the family. She's growing so fast, walking now. I will never forget what you've done for us and how you saved Angel's life that night. God bless you and Dean for everything that you do to make this world a safer place.

My one regret is Dean. I wish that he would have had a chance to know his daughter and that Angel had a chance to know him. Every time I look at her, I see his eyes, his smile and his strength. I miss him so much that I feel my heart breaking a little more each day. I wish that there could have been another way, but I know now that's not possible.

Anyway, I don't want to ramble. There is another purpose for this letter. Underneath that tough guy exterior of yours, you believe in real love. You haven't fooled me at all (smile). I am sending this to you because I know that you will understand.

I have already made arrangements to be cremated, but I left nothing public to let anyone know where my ashes are to be taken, just a notation that they are to be turned over to you. At the bottom of this letter is an address for a lake in the town where Dean and I met.

In a perfect world, Dean would handle this. But we don't live in a perfect world John, so I am asking you to spread my ashes in that lake so that I can spend eternity in the most beautiful place I know… the place where I fell in love with your son.

Lauren

A few minutes later, Dean heard a soft knock on the door before Sam poked his head in.

"Can I get you anything?"

Dean shook his head. Sam sat down next to him on the bed and Dean handed him the letter, then got up and began to pack his things. Sam finished reading the letter and looked up at his brother.

"I'm coming with you," Sam said.

"No," Dean replied.

"Dean, I don't think you should be alone right now," Sam objected.

"I've always been alone Sam," Dean said. "I need to do this alone too. I'll be back in a week." With that, Dean grabbed the urn and walked out the door.

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Dean sat on the dock, staring out at the water, with the urn sitting next to him unopened. He knew what she wanted, but he also knew that as soon as he opened that thing and let its contents out that he was going to have to face the truth. And he knew he couldn't face it, not now, not ever.

He walked back into the cabin, urn in hand, still unopened.

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Everyone has a shatter point. It's the point at which the human psyche has taken all it can take; the point at which everything crumbles; the point at which everything falls apart. Lauren's death had pushed Dean to his shatter point.

Dean Winchester had been surrounded by death since he was four years old. His mother, Sam's girlfriend Jessica, some of the people he had tried to save, and countless paranormal entities along the way.

He always thought that he would be the first to go. That some spirit or demon would take him out and he would die doing what he was made to do, protecting others. He never thought that he would have to live through this. He never thought that Sam would ever be safe while he was still alive.

In destroying the demon, Lauren had released Dean from the responsibility he had since he was four years old – keeping Sam safe. The demon that had haunted their family and wanted Sam was now gone. She gave Dean the biggest gift anyone would think they could, but ultimately took away his purpose in this life. Now, Dean didn't know what to do with himself.

He pulled his knees up to his chest. He felt like he was four years old again. He began to rock back and forth, clutching his legs tighter and tighter to his chest, closing his eyes, trying to fight back the memories. He didn't want to remember, it hurt too much.

He pushed his hands against his temples, willing the memories to go away. For hours, they kept coming, replaying over and over in his head as he cried like he had never cried before: their first kiss, making love to her for the first time, her smile, buying the ring, finding her again, pushing Angel on the swing, Angel calling him Daddy for the first time, Lauren's smile, Angel's smile, the love in their eyes when they looked at him, the way they trusted him, the tears in Lauren's eyes when he'd asked her to marry him, the feeling in his heart when she'd said yes, the pain when Angel had died, the hope that he felt when Lauren had held his hand for that split second at the lake, the grin on her face the night she'd let him back into her heart, the happy tears in her eyes when they laid there together afterward, the way she could lay her hand on his forehead or his cheek and smile at him and melt the whole world away, Meg and the dagger, Angel, the blood, and the fire, Lauren, the demon, the blood, all that blood, Lauren's face when he told her not to give up on him and the final word she ever spoke to him: "Never."

It echoed in his head now, "Never. Never. Never."

Nobody needs me here anymore. I've failed. Sam is safe, he doesn't need me. Dad… well, Dad can go straight to hell. The demon is gone; the threat has been extinguished. Angel's gone. Lauren's gone. Sam is safe. I'm tired. I miss my little girl. I miss Lauren. I'm alone, always alone. I don't want to be alone anymore; I want to be with them.

You can be, a voice whispered in the darkness.

He knew that voice, and he knew it was right. It had always been right. Missouri had been wrong. It wasn't the devil talking to him; it was his conscience, the truth of who he was and what his life had become.

You don't have to be alone anymore Dean. You can be with Lauren and Angel again. There is a way. The voice was softer now, kind and sympathetic.

You're tired. It's time to rest. You've done your job, fulfilled your purpose in this life. It's time to move on to the next, be with your family, be happy, really, truly happy and stay that way forever. You don't have to be alone anymore. Join Lauren and Angel; they're waiting for you.

An old song began playing itself in Dean's head now, the lyrics soothing him:

Love of two is one. Here but now they're gone. Came the last night of sadness. And it was clear she couldn't go on. The door was open and the wind appeared. The candles blew and then disappeared. The curtains flew then he appeared (saying don't be afraid). Come on baby (and she had no fear). And she ran to him (then they started to fly).



Romeo and Juliet are together in eternity. This line repeated over and over in his brain.

Dean stopped rocking. He reached into his jacket pocket and slowly pulled out his gun. He ran his fingers over its polished edges, felt the soft curves of its lines, felt it calling him. He rubbed his left hand over his tired eyes and face.

The pistol was cool against his skin, soothing the pounding in his head as it caressed his temple, chasing the fear and loneliness away. He felt his pain start to ease as he pulled the hammer back and placed his index finger on the trigger.

Now Comes the Night

Dean's hand was on the trigger now. The gun felt cool against his warm skin; there was something inviting about it. It made everything feel better again. He wasn't afraid of death, of dying. He was afraid of living, alone, without her. Because without her, without protecting Sam, nothing made sense.

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Sam drove the rental car the last mile up to the old cabin with a sense of dread in his heart. He just didn't feel right about Dean being up here by himself and had gotten on a plane two days after Dean had left. He heard Lauren's voice in his head. You take care of your brother for me, ok? Stick around, for a little while anyway. He needs you, you know?

Something was wrong, he could feel it. He ran from the car to the cabin and knocked on the door. No answer, but he could hear something inside, things crashing. He's throwing things; that's probably a good sign, letting things out. He tried the door, but it was locked. Finally, he kicked it in.

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Dean hadn't heard the knocking, or the door being kicked in. All he heard was Lauren's laugh and Blue Oyster Cult telling him how they could be together again.

Sam burst through the front door, and then followed the crashing noises to the back bedroom, where the door was partially open. All he could see from the hallway was anything that could possibly have been loose flying around the room in circles, randomly crashing into the walls. What the hell?

He pushed the door open slowly and his eyes opened wide. "Dean!" Sam yelled as he caught sight of his brother, sitting on the bed with his knees pulled up to his chest, his eyes squeezed shut, and a gun to his own head. "Dean no!"

Dean blinked, startled by the sudden interruption. When he opened his eyes, everything that had been flying around the room suddenly dropped to the floor. Sam figured it must be one of his abilities, turned loose by his subconscious under all this stress. Dean hadn't even realized what he'd been doing.

"Dean, what are you doing?" Sam asked cautiously, slowly moving toward his brother.

Dean didn't answer.

"Put the gun down Dean," Sam said with a little more authority in his voice.

"Go away Sam," he saw his brother's lips move but the voice was childlike, young and afraid.

"I'm not going anywhere," Sam said evenly, taking another step forward.

"Don't," Dean said, his adult voice returning, eyebrows lifting slightly as he pushed the gun more forcefully against his temple, his finger tightening on the trigger.

"Dean, you don't want to do this," Sam said, his voice breaking as he took another step toward his brother.

"Yeah, Sammy, I do. I really do," Dean said matter-of-factly and lifted his head slightly, unintentionally sending Sam backwards several steps. "Hey, that trick would have come in handy ABOUT A WEEK AGO!" he shouted.

Sam's heart fell as he looked at his brother now, alone, scared and hopeless. He couldn't imagine how much stress Dean was under. "I'm sorry Dean," he said.

"Sorry doesn't bring her back Sam. I'm done. I can't do this anymore!"

"Yes you can," they heard a familiar voice say. Dean and Sam looked up to see Lauren, or more accurately Lauren's spirit, appear as Angel's had the night the demon had been destroyed.

"Lauren?" Dean's eyes opened wide, looking at Lauren and then Sam.

"I see her too," Sam said.

Lauren sat next to Dean, "I told you I would never give up on you. That doesn't end with death. It's too soon for you to join us Dean."

"Sam's safe now. He doesn't need me anymore," Dean said in a shaky voice.

"Yes, I do," Sam said resolutely.

"I'm tired Lauren. I'm just so tired," Dean said, putting his hands over his face and beginning to cry again.

Sam's eyes filled as he saw another light enter the room and Angel appeared. Sam collapsed into a chair from exhaustion and relief. Dean hadn't seen her yet. Angel walked up to Sam and touched his hand briefly before moving to her father's bedside.

"I miss you Lauren, I miss Angel," Dean said then, his face still buried in his own hands.

"I'm right here Daddy," Angel said.

Dean's head snapped up at the sound of her voice. "Angel?"

Angel smiled at him. "Do you remember what you would tell me when you would leave with Sam for the weekend and I told you I would miss you?"

"Remind me," Dean smiled at her.

"No matter where I am, I'll always be right here in your heart", Angel and Dean pointed to each other's chests at the word heart, then said together "so long as you still love me."

"Do you still love me Daddy?" Angel asked him.

"Always baby," Dean said. "Always!"

"Then I'll always be with you," Angel said.

Lauren reached out to Dean and tilted his chin up, looking him directly in the eyes. "We will be together again one day, but not now. There are other hunts. You have gifts; you have to learn to use them. You still have a purpose in this life Dean, a very important one. It's not your time to go. Angel and I will come for you when it is and then we'll all be together again. But, no matter where you are or who you're with, you're never alone."

Dean felt his eyelids getting heavier by the minute.

Lauren looked at Sam and said, "We've got this one Sam. He'll be ok."

Sam stood up and took the gun out of his now sleeping brother's hand. He leaned over and smoothed Dean's hair a little, just like he'd felt Dean do every night after he'd thought he was asleep when they were kids. "I love you Deany," he whispered, smiling as he recalled his old nickname for his brother.

Angel waved goodbye to Sam as she disappeared.

Sam smiled through tears and told Lauren goodbye.

"Goodbye Sam," she said as he turned to leave the room. "I'll see you too, but it will be a while," she winked at him. It was bittersweet news.

Lauren leaned down and planted a kiss on Dean's forehead after Sam had left the room, whispering, "Goodbye my love," before disappearing. Dean slept for two days straight.

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On the day he woke up, Dean and Sam spread Lauren's ashes over the lake together, then drove back to Tampa in the Impala after returning Sam's rental to the airport.

Author's Note: This section below is just a wrap up for the story itself. In no way do I think this should happen on the show….

Sam had offered to join him on the hunt, but his heart wasn't in it and Dean knew it. Dean gave Sam his blessing to go back to school, where he finished his law degree and joined a prestigious firm in Tampa. Sam called Dean daily, filling him in on all of the mundane aspects of his new life, when he'd rented an apartment, a girl he was dating, the little things that told Dean he was okay and happy. And Dean would occasionally call him for his take on whatever he was hunting at the time if he was stuck.

Dean had asked Sam to go back to school for another reason though. He knew that if Sam was with him, she wouldn't be. And in the beginning, on the nights when Dean was feeling really lonely, Lauren would come to him and hold him until he fell asleep. He would wake in the morning alone, but still feel her presence, giving him the strength to face another day.

He had put the house in Tampa up for sale and used the money to buy the cabin by the lake, returning there between hunts to feel close to Lauren and Angel. He would sit on the dock as she had so many times, and talk to her there. He heard her voice in his head long after he stopped being able to see her.

In the end, Lauren's voice had replaced the negative voice Dean had heard since he was four years old, and he never heard the voice of fear or loneliness again.