The End: Chapter 3
He knew she was dead the moment he saw her. He had seen enough dead bodies to know. He pulled her close to him, she was still warm. He treaded his fingers through hers, closing his eyes, willing the tears to come. But they never did, maybe he had no more to give. Craddling her head, he bent to kiss her lips one more away he wiped the metallic taste from his own lips. Gathering the little strength he had left he pulled her up into his arms and carried her lifeless body outside.
The red sun was just about to break over the horizon as he finished digging. He couldn't give Sam the final resting place he deserved, because his only thought at the time was to run, but he was going to put her to rest the right way. He probably should have burnt her corpse, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. He couldn't watch anything else that pretty burn to ash.
As the sun rose higher, pink and red painted the sky a firey shade. The near by trees were stripped of their leaves, burnt-out skeletons of cars in the was nothing living in their poximity, only more death.
Dean laid her delicate body down in the shallow grave, wishing he didn't have to leave her, praying for one last miracle. The miracle he knew he would never recieve. As her fingers slipped from his own, he knew this was goodbye. Again.
"I'm sorry Kayla." How many times had he said that in his life? Too many. "I really am. You could have been everything to me, I truly believe that. You could have been the one. In a different time, a different place, a different life. You could have been the one I could have loved til my dying days."
Before his heart could break anymore,there really wasn't enough left to lose, he covered her body with dirt. As the last of the dirt blotted out her image, he knew he would never forget that face, just like he would never forget his brothers.
Dean clutched at his chest, he needed more to drink. The memories were too painful, he could feel his heart literally breaking apart beneath his ribs. Pulling in a ragged breath he knew that his time was almost here.
He didn't want to continue on in a world without his brother, without Kayla. He didn't want to fight anymore. What was left worth fighting for? He knew Lucifer was out there waiting for him, waiting to finish him completely. He had dreamed about it, just like he had with Sam. He could picture that beautiful face, those glistening eyes entirely focused on him. Dean could feel the power, the control he had. He almost understood why he had done this: destroyed the world. Almost.
He dreamt of him standing over him, watching him. Wondering. It's like he couldn't quite understand something. Like maybe, just maybe, he was hesitant. Maybe he didn't want to do this. But then in the next instant, he places his hand on his head and for a second everything is glowing and white. Then there is nothing but blackness.
Dean smiles as he thinks of the nightmare, he had seen it four times now. It must be close. But he would never let Lucifer take him, never let him win completely. He had his own ending. Dean reached down to pick something up from the floor. He had been preparing for this for a while, working up the courage. He knew there was nothing left for him in this damanged world, nothing for him but more pain and loneliness. And he had had enough of that, he'd had more than his share.
He tied the dirty rag around his arm, pulling the ends tight. The adrenaline pumping through his veins should have been enough, but he wanted to do this right. He was only going to do it once. The alcohol should numb any pain, if he felt anything at all. Picking up the syringe, he held it up to the little light there was. There was just enough to do the job, he hoped.
Lucifer would not take him tonight or ever. He was going to end this himself. He was going to find the peace he was so desperate to find at last.
He wandered in darkness from that day on. He knew he couldn't stay here for much longer. This world only brought him pain and suffering. He wanted it to all go away, he wanted to feel nothing. He just wanted to be left, left forever in the darkness that followed him, surrounded him. From that day, he no longer saw the sun rise, no longer saw it fall behind the horizon. Forever the scars will remain, imprints of a life he once lived. He could barely remember what it had been like: living on the road with his brother, fighting evil, saving people. It was just a distant remnant of what once was. It barely felt real to him.
He leveled the needle up with his vein. It was now or never. Dean took a deep breath and smiled as he thought of Sammy, Kayla, both of them waiting for him. He never believed that there could be something more, but after everything that he had seen he had to hope. Just once more. Slowly the liquid entered his blood stream. Blood, alcohol and heroin pumping through his worn out body.
He could feel the end. He could see it. There was no going back now, no one was going to save him this time. He forced the last drops of the liquid into his arm. Dropping the syringe it clattered onto the floor boards. The noise echoed around him. Warmth spread through him. His heart pounded harder that it had in a very long time. Then it stopped, the beating ceased.
He had his ending. There was no happily ever after. Dean Winchester's body lay abandoned and forgotten in a run down shack in the middle of no where. No one would find him, but even if they did, he was gone. As the sun sets, bringing the cold: this is the end of days.