Dean Winchester deserved to live. He deserved to walk out of that dusty old barn with Sam and those kids and get them somewhere safe, just like they always do. He deserved to fall in love for the first time - the real deal, with the heart palpitating and stomach full of fluttering butterflies he’d never, ever cop to having in a million years (but Sam would still tease him about it, anyway). Dean deserved to have a dog of his very own, that he’d painstakingly train to retrieve beers from the fridge and smother with affection and pets and the occasional nibble of jerky. He deserved to have the time to learn all about himself - what he genuinely likes, what he hates, everything he truly loves, for serious, important, meaningful reasons or for just no damn reason at all - and spend the rest of his life enjoying all of those things. He deserved to be able to lay back with Cas and make love for the first time - not just some hasty lay in the backseat of the Impala or some by-the-hour notel - but in his cozy bed, with the angel he loves, where they spend hours, days even, learning each other’s bodies and appreciating every inch of who they are, inside and out. He deserved to have a regular-joe job, one where nothing was life-or-death anymore, where he’d only get dirt under his fingernails instead of vampire blood, one where he could put in a solid day’s work and go home to Cas feeling the deep satisfaction it brings. He deserved to stop running. He deserved to be treasured for the beautiful, tender-hearted person he is. He deserved to have the opportunity to finally set things right between himself and his son. He deserved to have the chance to get help for all of the trauma he’d lived through, starting from the time that he was just 4 years old. He deserved to learn how to come to terms with his abusive relationship with his father. He deserved to get to the point of finally embracing himself for who he is as a person, even if that person isn’t entirely straight or entirely super-butch manly 24/7. He deserved to be a proud and doting uncle to Sam’s son and blush bashfully when Sam told him the kid’s name for the first time. Dean deserved to drive Baby until he couldn’t find a single replacement part more for her to keep her running, and then he’d lovingly shelter her in the covered garage where he’d wash and wax her every couple of weeks just because he loves her so much. Dean deserved to finally, finally retire - a proper retirement from his civilian work, with a gold watch and a bottle of fine, aged whisky to take home and share with Cas. Dean deserved to go on a long, long vacation with his husband - somewhere warm and sunny, with big, beautiful oceans the same color as Cas’s eyes, and lots and lots of rum drinks served in pineapples with colored paper umbrellas sticking out all over and their toes curling in the sugar-fine white sands. He deserved the gift of getting to grow old, the way no hunter had ever truly done before, but he’d tear you a new one if he heard you say such things around him. He deserved to slow dance with Cas in their living room while Zeppelin played far too loud on the stereo. Dean deserved to die surrounded by his large and loving found family, with God himself coming back to pay his respects and escort his dad home to Heaven, where Cas would join him again in no time at all. Dean deserved to have true peace, true happiness. Dean deserved to finally internalize and accept that he was a good man who was worthy of being loved, being appreciated, being respected for who he is. Dean Winchester deserved to live.
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