The End: Chapter Two
It was dark and cold. As the sheet of rain beat down harder on the roof of the Impala Dean begged for sleep to take him. He had been driving for too long, desperate to put as many miles between him and the scene that had caused him to lose the only person left worth living for. He'd raced down highway after highway, no longer restricted by a speed limit. Town after town sped by, just a blur in the rear view mirror. He didn't know where he was going and he didn't care. Time had no meaning: life had no meaning. Now he closed his tired eyes hoping the darkness would bring him some peace, even if only for a short while.
As Dean downed the last drop from the bottle, he prayed for that comfort now. He'd forgotten what it was like to sleep; to drift away to somewhere else, to be some one else. And he'd fogotten what it was like to close his eyes and not see his brothers broken corpse. How he prayed for that to go away. But praying was no use, there was no one to answer him. He tossed the empty bottle at the opposite wall, it smashed to pieces shattering the silence.
He laughed, he didn't know why, but he laughed. Dark and raw, his voice barely remembering how to work. It sounded strange to his ears. He'd been alone for so long, with no one to talk to, only silence. Since continuing the journey by himself Dean had only found one other person: Kellie? Carly? No, Kayla. That was it: Kayla. He didn't know how she had survived, but she had. She could have been his salvation and for a while she was.
They travelled the ruined world together, they found hope in each others eyes. Loneliness faded away and comfort was found in the arms of the other. Though Dean never forgot what had happened; he couldn't, he would forever be scarred by the loss of everything he held dear, he found a growing faith in the life he now lived.
He never told Kayla of how the end had begun. And he knew, from the look in her eyes, that she knew he was holding out on her. But she never said a damn thing. She was everything he needed her to be. She fought by his side when the demons tracked them down, she drank away his pain with him and she reminded him of his more human instincts.
As the hysterical laughter died away, Dean's weary eyes searched in the almost darkness of the room. Thinking about her made everything seem that much worse. She had filled some of the gap Sam had left in his world. Without her now made that emptiness even bigger. The wounds she healed reopened, the scars she helped to fade appeared brighter. As if losing his brother hadn't been punishment enough, he had to live through losing her too.
Dean pushed his head back against the wooden wood, eye lids closing on blood shot eyes. He remembered it, all of it, in perfect detail. She had fallen to sleep in his arms, just like she did everytime they made love. He would follow her into the realm of hopes and dreams, mesmerised by the sound of her gentle breathing, and the rise and fall of her chest so close to his. It was just like many other nights they had spent together, except that this would be their last.
He woke to find her like that. He hadn't heard a thing, he wasn't meant to. Lucifer walked the Earth, claiming it as his own now. He was capable of anything, anything at all. As each day pasted he felt a flicker of hope that they would now be left alone, but deep down Dean knew he would get to them eventually. And now that day had come.