Title: Your song echoes clear down the years whose sun has set
Disclaimer: only one character is mine; title from Olga Levertoff
Warnings: future!fic; character death; AUish
Pairings: none
Rating: PG
Wordcount: 260
Pointofview: third
Prompt: Any, any, "No grave upon the earth shall clip in it a pair so famous."
No marker. No words. A quiet field, a stretch of sky. Ashes scattered - no body.
Ten years.
No marker. No words. Same quiet field, same stretch of sky. Dust to dust, no body in the dirt.
Two wingbeats and all is silence.
Just the field and just the sky.
.
When Deanna Braedon goes looking for her great-grandfather's grave (she knows exactly where Grandma Lisa is), she doesn't find anything.
She asks Dad, but he has no clue either.
Grandpa just says, "He was a Winchester, kiddo." He smiles and he shrugs.
Deanna huffs and delves back into research.
She never does find Dean Winchester's grave. And when she decides to see if she can locate any other Winchester... no dice there, either.
When she goes back to Grandpa, he smiles. He shrugs. He looks out the window, at the sky, and he says, "Wherever they are, they're at peace. Ain't no plot of ground that could keep them restful, so they were given to the wind."
Deanna tilts her head. "Cremated? Why didn't you just say so?"
Grandpa shrugs again. "Winchesters are always cremated. I figured your research would'a turned that up."
Sighing, Deanna shakes her head. "Thanks anyway, Grandpa."
.
Two wingbeats.
'As you requested, Dean. It is done.'
A silence louder than every chorus in Heaven.
'May you find peace, Dean. May you rest, Sam. I swear to you – as long as I exist, I shall protect all who come after you.'
A field, and the sky, and dust to dust –
Two wingbeats.
It is done.