Dedicated to blink 182's song "Down."
I have to apologize for the format on this one. It's meant to be in bullet point numbers and arranged into smaller and smaller categories, but doesn't support that formatting. I did my best to make it readable without losing it's "essay" quality. I'm sorry if it gets confusing.
WARNING: This chapter includes canon character death.
Surviving the end is simple.
1. You learn quickly how to run.
a. It's probably the first thing you do, you run as hard and as fast as your new human body allows. You taste the copper of blood if you bite your lip, you feel your lungs freeze over if the wind dares to blow. The muscles in your calves ache and burn but you keep running. Running is the only way to live. Running is the only way to breathe. Running is the only way you don't have to look over your shoulder and see him not running after you.
b. It starts with a virus, a single germ that spreads through the population like hysteria. You think to yourself, it could have been anything. This certainly isn't the worst. It's only 2013, Dean has dealt with the virus before. Between the two of you, it'll certainly be an easy fix. But that's before you realize that this isn't one isolated incident. It's everywhere- in back alleys, rising up out of gutters, in pent house sweets, hacking its new wife to bits. It's in the middle of Manhattan, being gated off by police barricades. It's taking your order… or a bite out of your face in the front end of a burger joint off route 2.
2. You learn how to safeguard.
a. You find yourself trapped for the first time in Chuck's house around August, when the sun is at its worst. You use most of the furniture to barricade the windows and most of the salt to lock out anything else. The first night you don't sleep at all, not that you ever have before. No one sleeps. Not you, not Chuck, and certainly not Dean- who has positioned himself in one of the upstairs windows where he can watch for the next round of infected residents that will come running towards the porch. From there Dean can pick most of them off. In smaller numbers they're easier to take in hand to hand combat.
b. You try everything you can to drown out the groaning and the screaming. You try
i. ignoring it, but it's ceaseless.
ii. Pressing a pillow over your head, using the soft cushioning of the couch for your opposing ear. This solution is faulty for a variety of reasons, but the need to breathe is at the forefront.
iii. You give up using conversation with chuck as a distraction because honestly, there is only so much patience you have left and you really don't want to know just how downhill this is all going. You think a conversation with Dean would be much better, even if it was a silent one.
iv. Against your better judgement you ascend the stairs, taking your time to trace your fingers over the wood banister, trying to remember the texture of the grain. It's useless, but relieving.
v. Dean of course, is seated on the windowsill of the master bedroom.
3. You learn to watch your mouth.
a. There's a seemingly never-ending list of words you can say that will drive him from the room, sometimes by accident and sometimes on purpose. You avoid:
i. God- this one should be obvious by now because not only is this a touchy subject for everyone in general, but Dean has a sort of in-law syndrome that is both endearing and uncontrollably aggravating. He especially doesn't appreciate when you are feeling particularly aggressive and return his inquiries about the absent deity with "And where is your father now, Dean?"
ii. Father- you could say it's complicated.
iii. Fault- even using "it wasn't anyone's fault." Is a sure fire way to convince him that you're blaming him. And if he's not feeling guilty, then you must be, and you must be told it's not your fault either. Though indirect, this will hurt someone's feelings in the end and neither of you will be open enough to express it with anything other than a slammed door.
iv. Sam- you do not talk about Sam. No one talks about Sam. You don't remember the last time you talked about Sam because there is nothing to talk about in regards to Sam. And by extension, there is nothing to talk about in regards to-
v. Lucifer.
4. You learn not to sneak up on people when they've got a gun in their hands.
a. Dean is at the windowsill and you haven't really thought about what you're going to say (or not say and really you should have,) but you knock on the door frame anyway and he turns like a startled animal that had probably been half asleep. He definitely didn't hear your approach. He flexes his fingers around the rifle in his lap, easing the tension in his joints as recognition sets in. There's a question in his eyes that he won't ask, a stirring fleck of gold that seems only to exist when he's distancing himself from you- like a star floating high above in a sky you can no longer reach.
b. You don't know how to approach him anymore so you settle for the awkward drag of your feet on cheap carpet.
c. He doesn't turn his head when you sit just to his right, your back against a mattress full of rusting springs. It's fraying at the edge,
i. The mattress,
ii. Your mind,
iii. This relationship
1. It could unravel at any moment and that would be it. You'd reach an end. The end.
d. And you're stuck on the thought. The very idea that there is now an end in your life, no matter what kind. Things always seemed so limitless before and though you've mourned the loss of forever, you never really considered that a finite lifestyle applied to you. To you and him. You've both always come back. You both've been through life and death. You've wrapped your fingers around his soul and pulled it straight out of hell. He's pressed his words into your defenses and relieved you of heaven. You've been broken, you've been healed, you've been saved, you've been relieved, you've been reborn.
e. But you don't even know how open your mouth and say his name.
f. So you say "I love you." Instead.
i. This is definitely not the right moment.
1. In the middle of your unraveling life, with the shouts and moans of the infected melting out in the hot summer sun.
ii. It's not like you're just realizing it now.
1. It wasn't in the beginning. You kind of resented him then. But it was before this, you're sure it was- probably somewhere in a dream where you were his last defense and he was the revolution tearing through your veins even if you didn't want it.
5. You realize you never learned how to safeguard:
a. Your heart.
i. There was never a reason to. You once believed that if you could just keep going- just keep fighting for him and for his causes and for his benefit that somehow, in the end, things will all fall into place. Once you get through this, you'll be rewarded with the happily ever after that the doom and gloom of your story has promised.
1. This is a very very untrue assumption.
ii. He doesn't say "I love you" back. But you expected this. He says other things…
1. The first is "What's that supposed to mean?" which comes out with a breath of disbelief between the two of you in Chucks dilapidated master bedroom. He knows what it means. He knows that you know what it means. But he doesn't want to talk about himself. He wants to talk about you. He wants to dissuade you from this romantic crusade you've spontaneously dedicated yourself to on the way up the stairs. He wants you to think that he's strong enough to face his demons alone. He isn't. But you can't figure that all out just yet. You let it be. You let him yell his frustrations at you while you sit awkwardly on the floor. You let him give all his explanations for why you and him is just a terrible idea. You let him wear himself out huffing and puffing over weaknesses and insecurities and worries….
a. He lets you kiss him when he has nothing else to say. The fact that he sinks into the touch of your lips tells you all his words couldn't.
2. He says "What the hell were you thinking?!" When the doctor finally leaves the two of you alone in your cabin. You're all laid up with a broken foot. You're lucky that's all you're stuck with. This miscalculation could have cost you your life and Dean knows it. He's furious. But not at you. You know him too well to think that the anger is the only emotion raging under his scarred skin. You've been with him every step of the way- through each mission, through each sweat-soaked night. You've seen tears he can't swallow and the calm nothingness behind his eyes that is an expression of the void his brother left in him. You've felt his heart shudder under your palms, so you can see the fear now. It's there, swimming under the surface of his skin like a caged animal. He can't lose you too. He won't. He definitely won't say it. So you don't either. He'll stay by your beside for most of the night.
3. He says "I really need someone I can trust here. I'll be back soon." Which is his way of putting you on house arrest more often than not. You're a liability. You're something he can't worry about losing again. You have to be safe. So you bear it with only the aftertaste of resentment.
4. He says "Stop. Cas, seriously. I'm a little busy right now."
5. He says "When I have a mission for you, you can have a mission." And "I'm going to find the colt and I'm going to kill him."
6. He says, "No. You stay. I'll find somewhere else to sleep."
iii. The only thing that hurts more than the cold spot in your bed where he should be is seeing the girls flaunt all over him like a piece of perfectly prepared leader meat. And he smiles at them with a mask that you can recognize from a mile away. And he talks to Risa about plans. And he stops coming by the cabin. And you sidestep him around camp. The shared bathroom time was never a convenience anyway.
iv. You go on your own missions. You come back with anything in a bottle with a label that you can find. Booze or pills or both. A chemical life gives you the impression that "two can play this game." You feel mighty. You feel above it all again, like nothing he does or says means more than an ant crawling across the cabin floor. You brush your fingers over her arm in the middle of a meeting and his eyes snap to the motion instantly. Guilt floods you, anger fills him.
v. He comes back to the cabin and presses you into the wall. His fingers bruise possessive outlines onto your arms. His lips are hot and raw and trembling with a want that you forgot the both of you possess. His name surges up in your lungs, your name sits on the edge of his tongue. You hold and pull and dig your fingers into every corner of him you can get. He stays and your bed is no longer too big. There's the notion of home in the scent of leather and gun powder on his skin.
1. You say, "I love-"
2. He says "Don't."
vi. The bed is empty again before you wake up. You decide to forget that it ever happened.
vii. You wish you could forget.
viii. You induce forgetfulness.
ix. Then HE shows up.
b. The memories.
i. He's self righteous. He exudes dominance and skillfulness and a determination to fight. He stands with his chin up and his eyes bright with the will to live. There's a way in which he scans the room that is less resigned. The details are important to him. You are important to him. You can tell by the way he waits for your response. He wants you to acknowledge him. Though he's confused by his own conclusions, he trusts and respects you to the point of being docile. The notion of confidence he has in you is enough to make your heart stutter into a painful ache. Suddenly you want to do anything for him again. You want to abandon the drugs. You want to abandon heaven. You want to love him until the words "family" get doted onto your skin. He smells like leather, and fast food, and the gas of a car you haven't seen in years. His fingers tap against the sides of his thigh in a rhythm of a song that makes you think of cassette tapes and motels and Sam… Sam Winchester… who you haven't thought about missing in years.
ii. You decide in that moment that you're going with them. Your Dean isn't sentimental, but he is suspicious about your sudden interest in being involved again. Seeing the two of them together is a strange paradox. They're so different, but the foundation is the same. You can't help the smile that spreads across your face, blooming with laughter and a sudden odd notion that this… this means something big is about to happen. This strange gift is your last shout out to devotion. It's a shot of life that no drug could have ever given you. You praise the Dean from long ago and you catch a glimpse of fleeting sorrow in your own Dean before it retreats again. This is it. You're signed up. You're sold. You'd die for him. You practically already have.
6. Surviving the end is not so simple.
a. There's a reason they call it The End, after all. You reminisce about the fantasy you once had where all of this turned out well. Whatever made you think that there was a happily ever after in store must have been some sick story-telling ploy that was brainwashed into you next to your angelic programming. Well you're no longer an angel and you don't have the patience for hopefulness.
b. Everything hurts. What did you expect? Your muscles are screaming, your calves are burning, your lungs are freezing, and you taste copper of blood rolling down the back of your throat. You can't run, but you have to keep moving. The rubble makes things harder. So does the sharp sting spider-webbing up your leg. You're driving only with the intention to find him now. You have to find him. You'll figure something out if you can just-
c. You find him. Laid out on the grass surrounded by the rose gardens. He's at the foot of a white suit, his body a lifeless monument of hardships and cruel circumstances. You feel the resignation he's been feeling for months. You feel his love torn from you without even a goodbye. Shattered glass cuts into your veins and the cold surge of nauseous terror rises through the blood in your throat. You choke on it as your knees meet the ground beside him. You want to touch him, but you don't want to feel him chilled with death. Already the cool impression that Lucifer has left on his skin is eating away at your resolve. It doesn't belong there. It belongs there about as much as Sam Winchester's face belongs over the Archangel's expression of sympathy. A rhythm beats itself out of your fingers against your thighs and you swear you remember it from somewhere.
Did you think this could have ended any other way? Did you think that God had set aside a little corner of the Heaven you abandoned for the pair of you? Dean certainly didn't. Hot tears run streaks through the blood on your face so you press your nose into the stiff jacket at his shoulder. No pulse gives you comfort. No soft sighs halt the hiccupping grief setting in.
Lucifer stills beside you, watching how you unravel the years of your heart onto a corpse with the mask of a man you loved.
d. You learn how to Die.
i. It isn't quick. And it isn't easy. No one signed up for it, but here you all are. Sam Winchester paved the way and Dean died with him. You died with Dean. You've been dying for years. If you get up and run, he won't be following you. You've finally reached it, this is the end.
ii. The gardens turn to wood and you're walking up a staircase in Chuck's house. Your fingers try to memorize the grain along the railing. There's a room with a window that looks out over the front yard. The mattress there is fraying and the springs creak with age. You remember words traded here, but you can't remember the voices that spoke them. There's no one sitting on the sill. There's no one here to love. You think you ascended the stairs with purpose, but the doorway has erased it.
iii. "I love you." You say to the ghost of a dream. The walls are crumbling around you, leaving you alone again with your lips pressed against a frozen image of your home. He doesn't sink into you.
iv. He doesn't say "I love you" back.