It is a blessing to die for a cause, because you can so easily die for nothing.

- Andrew Young

Chapter Eleven - Five Stages

As Dean squinted into the red tinged sun sinking lower in the sky, a peaceful calm embraced him. It amazed him how he had progressed through the five stages of dying so quickly and effortlessly. All things considered!

Then he remembered he had actually passed over a few of them. He never was one to follow the rules, why start now?

Denial didn't last long, as a hunter he had seen too much to in turn be able to deny much. He knew the ugly truth of this world. He had seen first hand what good men refused to believe. How was this any different? He was a realist. He stopped believing in fairytales when he was four years old. He had seen the harsh reality of death, up close and personal. The reaper comes for us all, don't it brother?

Anger hadn't really been an issue. Sammy would live. How could he be angry about the cost? After all, it was a price he was more than willing to pay. A price he would pay ten times over if need be. Dean needed Sam to live and he would, that was all that mattered. He understood the ways of the world and the danger therein. He had lived with danger and death his entire life. One thing he learned early on was to control his emotions, anger in a battle was only gonna get you killed. Oh yeah, good to remember!

Bargaining he had left to his dad, he hadn't seen any point to it. Oh, he'd cursed God a few times and briefly wondered why, but since he really didn't believe in God, striking a bargain hadn't seemed too feasible, basically just a waste of time and energy. Time was too precious to squander on futile deals and with his energy just now returning to him, he'd be damned if he'd waste his last moments on useless haggling.

Depression could sure be a bitch, but that really wasn't his style. The Winchester way was to deny your feelings, bury your pain, and focus on doing your job. With his life on the precipice of that infinite, black abyss, he wasn't in the mood to analyze his life and fret over regrets by picking at old wounds and confronting repressed emotional issues. Ignoring them had always worked before, why mess with success? He had a job to focus on, the job of dying. Holding himself together and accomplishing that simple task took all the fortitude he possessed.

Acceptance, yeah that one he could relate to. After all, people had been dying since the beginning of time. If they could do it, he figured he could too. If it was going to happen, he might as well just accept the inevitable and move on. The question being, move on to where and what?

Then he considered if his ability to just accept his fate had anything to do with the fact he hadn't really been living to begin with. Maybe he had ceased to exist all those years ago when Mom died. Perhaps he had just been pretending to carry on all this time.

Maybe he just hadn't accepted he was just like Dad. Dad had stopped living the moment Mom died, Dean was the main witness to his death. He saw the change in his dad and it scared him; knowing the father who had hugged him, loved him and thrown the baseball with him, the man who had been so full of life previously had all but disappeared. He had observed the death of his dad when his will to live vanished, replaced by a blinding need for vengeance.

And then he considered the real truth, the best part of him died when Sam announced he was leaving him to go off to school. His will to go on had been severely damaged, and he wondered if he could live without his brother to protect and shelter. If he had truly died when he heard the devastating truth of his brother's plans, then maybe this was just his body finally catching up with his spirit.

Damn, I can be such a melancholy bastard!

Then he reconsidered one last time, perhaps he was still stuck at denial.

Guess I need a little more time to think this through. You listening there God? Can you give me some time to figure this bitch out? Not that I'm bargaining with you, mind you. I was just wondering.

Damn, this was getting him nowhere fast. He best head on back to acceptance and leave it at that.

A motion off in the woods diverted his attention back to the present as his eyes scanned the tree line, focusing in on a solitary figure staring at him, sizing him up. A beautiful, young woman slowly made herself known, hesitantly walking towards him, watching him to gauge his intentions.

It would be considered unusual for anyone to be out alone in these woods at this time of the day, let alone two separate persons each striking out on their own, yet somehow ending up together in this one place. Perhaps fate was playing one last cruel trick on him. Dean gazed upon her with curiosity, her essence familiar, her movements telling.

She regarded him with suspicion at first, carefully evaluating his actions. After a few moments to ponder him, she seemed content he would do her no harm. She continued onward toward him, smiling a dazzling smile, her brilliant red hair flowing loose and free in the breeze, shimmering in the light of the setting sun.

She finally crossed the distance between them and stood tall before him. She was a stunning girl, late teens or early twenties with an athletic, statuesque build. She was perhaps only an inch or two shorter than him, as perfect as a model with her flawless skin and timeless beauty.

She literally took his breath away. Her white cotton dress like thin gauze in the setting light, allowing the majesty of her form to show through. If he was the sort to believe in angels then he was sure this is what an angel would look like, yet he instinctively knew she was no heavenly being. Man, if I wasn't going to die, I would be having the time of my life tonight. Damn!

"Hi! I'm Rachel. What are you doing out here?"

Dean considered his choices. He could hardly tell her the truth, 'Oh, I'm out here waiting to die. Just thought I'd get some fresh air and smell the roses before I shuffle off this mortal coil.' Hey Mrs. D, bet you're still proud huh? I haven't been this literary since, well since, before you died.

"Just went for a run. Needed some fresh air."

"You have a name?"

"Doesn't everyone?" Dean smiled, relieved to be able to fall back into his old games, his trustworthy, smartass responses for a moment, before he again had to face his future. Or lack thereof.

"Care to share?"

"Sure. I'm Dean. Glad to know you, Rachel." He smiled his killer smile. Oh, you are so working it there Dean.

She was a fetching girl and he was relieved to have someone attractive to cast his eyes upon, his last glimpse of perfection in this world as his heightened vision drew in every flawless feature and reveled in her beauty. Hey, God. You sure you can't spare me one last night?

"Care for some company? I was just going for a walk in the woods; take in all the wonders of the forest. It's a beautiful day, isn't it?"

Her eyes were inviting, Dean knew under different circumstances they would be getting to know each other much better. He could sense she was a wild one, and together they could blister the night with their passion. The image in his mind was awe-inspiring but as much as he would love one last fling, one last moment of sexual bliss….Wow, can you imagine what it would feel like with my heightened senses? Man, this is so not fair!

No, he knew he no longer had time to consider such pursuits. His fantasies would have to do; the reality was his time was running out. He had one final mission to accomplish, one final act to insure Sam's safety. With bitter regret he knew he had to leave and fulfill his duty.

He hoped Sam would understand and forgive him for what he was about to do. Sam could be so innocent sometimes, so naïve about the true ways of the world and so blind to its harsh realities. Damn, but his brother sure could be obstinate. Like him deciding to go off to college. He knew no pleading or coercion would convince his brother to abandon his dreams. That's why I admire you, little brother.

Yeah, that's my Sammy. He always knows what he wants and he goes for it. He had never known anyone as single minded as Sam, except of course Dad. Funny how much alike those two were. His brother really was just a younger version of Dad, a more innocent version that hadn't had his life ripped apart by evil. Dean hoped he never did, maybe he should be happy for Sam to go off to college, to leave this hunting life behind. Maybe that was his only chance at a happy life.

What was really amusing is neither his brother nor his dad could see how alike they truly were. They fought like warriors on opposite sides in a battle, men of strong beliefs divided over fundamental issues, yet they were the same side of the coin. They were the mirror image of each other.

Why am I the only one to see it? Why am I the one always stuck in the middle of their fights? Guess it's not really that amusing, is it? Certainly not for me. Sometimes I think their battles will be the death of me. Ha, Ha, good one Dean! Guess you can let go of that worry.

"Sorry, did you hear me? I asked if you wanted some company." She sweetly repeated her question, drawing Dean back into the conversation at hand.

"I would love to, but I can't. I need to get on back now. Sorry." Dean finally admitted to himself this flirtation was over. It couldn't go anywhere and he needed to put some distance between them. He didn't need any witnesses for what he was about to do. The more distance between them the better.

She smiled sweetly at him and watched as he jogged away.

He again ran flat out, marveling at his abilities and stamina. Man, if they could just bottle this, people would pay anything to feel this strong and alive, invincible really. Whatever it was coursing through his system had to be more mind-blowing than all the drugs kids do nowadays. This just had to be the best drug ever.

Not that he had anything to compare it too, aside from one reckless encounter with marijuana when he was fourteen. That's all it took, one moment of being out of control, one time at being less than vigilant and ready for battle. He didn't like the feeling. He didn't like the thoughts that swamped his mind when he realized what could have happened. If there was one thing he prided himself on, it was always being in control, of handling any situation that might arise. Of always being ready to protect Sammy.

The hunter in him, forever alert for danger, had thereafter steered clear of any and all drugs. Hell, he often avoided the pain meds when his body burned in agony, just so he could maintain his edge, his control. Yeah, gotta maintain your control there Dean, can't let the fates determine your future. A man makes his own future. A man casts his own fate. Yeah, you used to believe that.

His duty dictated his decisions, his training and dedication always took precedence over any desire to experiment. This was a new sensation for him, an unbridled leap into the sensory world. One final hurrah, one last attempt at living on the edge of the abyss, dancing perilously close, peering deep within it, waiting for the darkness to reach up and pull him in. This was his last glimpse at life before he would fall headlong into that abyss, before the completion of his transformation and the cessation of his being.

Guess every great drug has a side effect. This one's a real killer.