This is a little something I wrote at 2am. I was bored, couldn't sleep and needed to do something. It's just one of my theories on how the series could end.

This is dedicated to Kim Manners, the fantastic Supernatural director, who passed away this month to lung cancer. My condolences go out to his family and everyone who knew him. RIP Kim, you will be sorely missed.

Disclaimer: This is Kripke's sandbox. I just play in it once in a while.

So this was how it was going to end.

No audience, no witnesses, no support for either side. No one standing by to finish off what their side had started, should their leader fall.

It would be just the two of them. A faceoff between the lost souls of two former brothers. The word former is used as the one is only a shadow of the person he once was. A puppet in a way, a figurehead. No more distinct from the rest of his kind, for all the power he held.

Both sides knew that this would be the end of it. It had been delayed for long enough, the reluctance from one side having been enough to postpone it until that day.

Two sets of eyes, one hazel, one yellow. Only one pair struggled to hold off tears. While the hazel threatened to cry, yellow simply stared out in blantant, outright hatred.

"Why?" The single word slipped, harsh and cracked, from Dean's lips.

The demon blinked, as if the question had caught him--it off guard. "Because this is the way it was always going to be." It stated, it's voice implying that the answer should have been obvious. "You shouldn't take it personally."

The pair circled each other, neither ready to make the first move. Dean's fingers gripped the Colt, the gun feeling ice cold. His arm however, lay limp at his side, unwilling to raise it's weapon.

"I swore to protect you." Dean's agonized voice once again penetrated the eery silence that hung over the deserted landscape. "Dammit Sam, I went to hell for you."

The demon that had once been his brother threw back his head and laughed, cold and cruel, echoing in the night air. Then a sudden silence came over him again, and his eyes flickered briefly with something that resembled pain. "Your deal broke me, Dean. It was the final straw. After that, it was simply a matter of time."

Dean turned his head away, gripped by tormenting emotion for a brief moment. Turning back, he raised his hand so that the Colt pointed at the heart of the thing across from him. His finger tightened on the trigger, the final moment closing in upon him.

For a long second, he let memories rush in upon him, memories of happier (if they could be called that) times. A single tear rolled down his face as in his minds eye he saw his younger brother the way he had been the last time he'd been remotely human.

"Dean." Sam's eyes were pleading with him, struggling against flashes of yellow that tried to overcome their natural colour. "Save me."

Dean shook his head, unable to move or react in any way.

"Save me so you can live the rest of your life free of me!"

Dean had been too selfish at that point, to do what was necessary.

This time was different.

"Alright Sammy."

A single, unremarkable gunshot rang out. In the brief moment before the life left it, yellow gave way to hazel, thankfulness fighting its way up over the hatred.

Then the life faded and only one remained alone in the night.

I'm sorry.

There would be no deal this time. No way to miraculously bring back to life the only person that he had once cared about and who had once cared for him. Dean had accepted that fact a long time ago.

Forgive me Sammy.

It was over. He knew it and the world knew it.

The sound of the second gunshot sent a note of finality out into the night.