Too many times he's been here, in that uncomfortable space between Life and Death. Only this time feels different than all the others. Usually, he's not sure which way he will go. Right now, though, he knows. Deep in his core, he knows.
As tired as he is, as worn and hurt and exhausted as he is, it is not his time. He's not sure how he feels about this. It couldn't be so bad to be dead. In fact, it sounds quite…relaxing actually. He imagines letting go, letting go of his pains and his sorrows and his burdens. It's not his time, but maybe he should try anyway…
Letting go is easy enough. In a moment he is weightless, floating…
And then a shock jolts through him. He furrows his brow. There are bright lights and he thinks he hears voices and beeping and-
Another shock. And he's Alive. He can feel and hear and if he could just open his eyes he knows he would be able to see. But he can't and doesn't really want to. He wants to hold onto that blissful feeling of nothingness for just awhile longer.
"Dean, don't you ever do that to me again," he hears Sam say, his voice choked by emotion.
He's flooded with sudden guilt. How could he be so selfish? He could never leave his Sammy behind. The pain, the burden, all of it is worth it. For him. It's all for him.
It's for him that Dean opens his eyes. His younger brother's face swims into his vision.
"Dean," Sam says, putting his hand on Dean's. "Hey. How do you feel?"
"Like hell. What're you crying for?"
"You tried to die on me! I'm crying cause you didn't," Sam retorts, wiping at his eyes.
"Bitch."
"Jerk."