DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN SUPERNATURAL OR ANY OF ITS CHARACTERS! I DO NOT OWN ANY OF ROBERT FROST'S POEMS!
This is a bit longer than my usual one shots. I like to keep them short and sweet. Hopefully I did this scene some justice. Enjoy, Follow, Review!
I Smell Graves and Saline
Cass was gone, but that hardly mattered at this point. Lucifer had killed him; Sam had killed him, for buying Dean some time to try to get through to Sam. His Sammy. With Michael out of the way and Bobby the next to go all Dean could think about was saving his brother, his life. So when Lucifer started to kick his ass Dean had never been in more pain. It wasn't physical but emotional. Seeing Sam's face as he beat the life out of Dean tore at his heart and left gashes deep enough to make him wilt from lack of blood. Dean knew that it wasn't Sam, not really. He was now Lucifer's meat bag and that fact still shocked Dean down to his core, and it hurt. It hurt like nothing ever had before, that was until Dean saw the look on Sam/Lucifer's face. It was as if he were nothing more to Sam than a nuisance, a bug that he planned to squash but wasn't worthy of dirtying his shoes over. Gazing up at Sam's annoyed face showing the hate that he harbored for Dean made him cry. And suddenly, all he could do was remember. Remember all the love they had shared, all the kisses, all the fights, and all the close calls that always led them back to the other. It was all gone from Sam's eyes, this Sam that was not Sam. At least not his Sammy, he was gone now. And Dean had never felt as desperate to see his brother's bitch face as he was at that moment. He was pushed violently against the Impala and spit out blood after taking another serious beating to the face.
"It's okay Sammy." Dean spoke to his brother, past just Sam's face and into his eyes, his soul. Because what else could he do? He had tried everything to get Sam to gain control through his love, even just through their brotherly memories. Lucifer reared his fist back behind him and aimed to end Dean's life, just as he wanted. All the while Dean searched his brother's gaze, not looking for any recognition, but wanting the last thing he saw on earth to be his lover's eyes. Sam's pure green eyes that mirrored his own, and their mother's, and their grandfather's and all their ancestors before, that was all Dean ever needed. He traced his lineage that connected with the only other person he truly loved in this world back to Adam and Eve, to Cain and Abel through his one and only's eyes. Those deep greens that spoke so clearly to him he knew what Sam was thinking before Sam himself did. His loves eyes that always reminded Dean of a line from a Robert Frost poem that Sam used to recite after learning of poetry for the first time in the sixth grade.
Nature's first green is gold.
Dean finally understood what Frost had meant by that. But now it was all over, Dean could live with that if only Sam didn't have to be alone. Dean would stay in Hell with him for an eternity if it meant that they could be together. But just as Dean closed his eyes, readying himself for the end, Sam let go of his shirt. Dean's eyes snapped open in shock. He was staring at his Sammy. He could tell it was real, the green of Sam's eyes flared with passion and love and regret. Dean could read his mind, Sam wanted to say something, but there was no time. They both knew they wouldn't be alone for long; Michael would have to come back at some point. The Holy Fire bomb Cass threw at him would only keep the Archangel at bay for a couple minutes at best. So Sam went to work opening the cage. Tossing the combined Horsemen's rings on the ground Dean watched as the dirt gave way to a gaping hole in the earth, wind whirling and reaching and sucking. Waiting to have its eternal meal of the famous angel Lucifer back into its stomach, in the very pit of Hell. When the cage was open wide, its teeth the crooked branches of the earth searching hungrily for Lucifer's vessel, Sam turned to Dean.
With tears gathering in both of their eyes at the thought that Sam would leave this world, and Dean, forever Sam quickly gathered him in his arms. Not caring that Michael would be there any moment, wings a blazing, Sam held Dean's face in his monstrous hands. Sam could only get out a swift, "I love you Dean," and a passionate, and desperate, kiss before he gave Dean one more lingering look. It was his last look of Dean, his last time to try and imprint his love's face into his mind. Michael was back by then, trying to convince Sam that this apocalypse had to happen. Dean couldn't keep his eyes off of Sam, his last look at his Sammy. Dean could see the resolve in his eyes, this was it. Sam leaned back and dropped into the pit, taking Lucifer, Michael, and Adam down with him. Dean watched the mouth of Hell close and couldn't help but feel that his heart and soul was being dragged into the cage too, plunging down toward the pit, toward Sam. From his place in the dirt Dean crawled his way toward the horsemen's rings, but he could care less about them at this point. His mind was reeling, too busy trying to work through the shock to comprehend anything else than getting to where Sam had fallen through. Dean plunged his hands into the damp earth, not caring that he could feel his nails tearing and ripping from the surrounding skin. Dean continued his pointless mission, too blinded by grief to see that hoping if he dug deep enough he could pull Sam out or maybe even jump in after him was never going to be a possibility.
Dean felt Cass's presence and then Bobby's. Dean couldn't be bothered to be happy that they were alive again, too ashamed that he couldn't save Sam and too shocked that he was really gone. After Cass healed his face and he saw Bobby pocket the rings Dean felt him lay a hand on his shoulder. It all became too real then, Bobby's comforting hand showed him what he refused to believe was real. Sam was really gone, he wasn't coming back, and Dean would just have to learn to live without his Sammy. But how and when had that ever made sense? Because who had heard of Dean Winchester without his little brother Sam? Suddenly, Dean wished that Cass wouldn't have healed his face. It was the last thing that Sam had touched and as awful as it was Dean wished he could hold onto Sammy as long as possible. Dean couldn't handle the pain anymore; of losing a brother, a lover, and a fellow warrior. Dean screamed, he yelled and shouted and cursed until he tasted blood in the back of his throat and his eyes were so swollen from his panicked tears that he leaned forward and pressed his forehead to the ground, the closest he could get to his brother. Dean continued to do the only thing that he could do; he spilled hurt tears for his lost love on the fresh upturned dirt. That was how Dean stayed, he didn't know for how long, hours maybe but he didn't keep track of time anymore. Dean couldn't bear the thought that it would be morning soon and he would have to move from his post, no matter how much his muscles ached. There Dean would stay for as long as he could, his nostrils filled ominously with the scent of a fresh grave. Sammy's grave.