A/N: Just a double-drabble written for the "what would make Dean stop hunting?" challenge, and inspired by PL's story "When It's Over". Enjoy.
No Longer
Something is off. He notices that immediately. But what is it?
Whatever it is, it's fundamentally wrong and he hates it. To take his mind off it, he focuses on his surroundings.
There's blood. Everywhere. So much of it, dark and red and shining in the dying light that's coming through the windows. It rings a bell somewhere in him. He remembers now, vaguely. Guess I got the bastard.
There's Sammy, looking exhausted and worried and – no, not worried, frantic. He's frantic as he rushes over. He's saying something. Dean watches his brother's mouth move, knows there's something he should be hearing, and yet – there's nothing.
And he slowly realizes he's found the strangeness in this unnatural quiet, this unnatural lack of sound, and feeling, and motion. It isn't right. It doesn't make sense. He watches as Sam continues to speak, but he hears only the silence.
He tries to respond, to force his body to cooperate, but he can't give voice to his thoughts. Can't tell Sammy he's okay. Sammy, who's now got one hand to Dean's neck and tears in his eyes.
All he can do is stare lifelessly as Sam's hand falls away and the tears come.
A/N: I would have warned for character death, but that would have given it away. Hope you liked it. Reviews would be wonderful.