Paring: Sam & Dean
Disclaimer: Don’t own nothing (wish I did)
Warning/Spoilers: HUGE spoiler for 2.21(do not read if you haven’t read the spoiler)
Summary: Uhh.. can't really say anything cause it would just spoil the episode its self k?
Dean held his brother's upper body, refusing to believe the undeniable fact that stared him straight in the face. This wasn't happening. It couldn't. Not Sam. He'd lost Mom...Dad...but not Sam. He couldn't lose Sam. He wasn't losing Sam. "Dean..." the voice cut through his tortured thoughts like a knife, calm and steady and not at all like it should've been. If he could've, Dean would have found that voice and punched it out, so the real voice Sammy should've had could come forth. "Dean, you've gotta-". "Shut up," his own voice broke through the fake-voice as soon as Dean realized that it wasn't fake. Sam's resolve was real.
"Just...Shut up. You aren't dying, Sam." His brother smiled fondly at Dean's denial. It broke his heart. Dean'd been hurt before...hurt bad...but never like this. It couldn't be like this. He refused to let it...Oh God. "You can let go, Dean," the whispery voice pleaded softly. "I'm sorry, but you have to-". "I'm not letting go of you, Sammy!" he felt the hot tears spill down his cheeks but he didn't care. Let them fall. For all the times that he'd pissed Sam off...called him names...been anything less that completely supportive of him...let those damn tears fall. Sam's eyes glistened as the reality of everything set in.
He gripped Dean's hand weakly, trying to hold his own head up despite the fatigue that was threatening to claim him. "You kept your promise, Dean," he said, voice hoarse. "Maybe it was supposed to be like this. It's alright. It's time, Dean.". "Sam, shut up!" he didn't want to shout, but the bubble inside him was going to burst any second and Dean wouldn't be able to hold on much longer. He hated that fucking promise. He hated Sam for making him make it. He hated Sam. He loved Sam. The sudden tranquility on his brother's face brought the crushing reality to him, and suddenly Dean felt cold. "Sammy..." he whispered, voice nearly lost as a sob escaped him. "No...you can't....Sam...".
"Dean, you're my brother...and I'd die for you..." the words echoed bitterly back to a time when neither could have foreseen this event. "let me do this Dean...for you. You saved me. You, Dean. You saved...everything...". Could you literally feel your heart break? Dean had never put much thought into it before, but now he knew the answer was yes. It was yes. Why the fuck was it yes?. "I'm not scared," Sam's steady tone wavered and for a split second he was that seven year old kid with a bad haircut Dad'd given him, assuring Dean that he wanted to give up the nite-light again. He was a Sam that, no matter what, Dean could protect. "I'm not, Dean. It's alright. It's...finally...alright."
"Sam..." it was more of a pleading response now than a name. "Don't...you can't leave me...I can't...". "I love you, Dean," the words came to him clearly now, and Sam made one last effort to grip Dean's hand. "You'll always be...my big...bro-". The hand dropped soundlessly to the side, just as Sam's head drooped. Dean stared silently at the now-peaceful face cradled against his arm, unable to make a sound as the tears flowed down his cheeks.
When he finally did regain control of his voice, it came out in a roar. Then a sob. Then a whimper. Finally, the only sound Dean could make was his brother's name. Over and over as the darkness fell around him and for the first time Dean Winchester knew that he was truly alone.