You walk into the Bunker still covered in blood from your last hunt, you shove the demon killing knife into your bag and walk down the hallway to your room when Sam stops you.
“Hey (Y/N), how was your hunt?” Sam asked eyeing the blood on your face.
“I’ll talk to you in a minute Sam, I want to go take a shower.” You said brushing past him.
You blocks your path and looks down at you with a sorrowful look on his face.
“Sam? Is something wrong? You look a bit upset.” You studied his face.
“I need your help with something.” He said, his voice was barely audible.
“What did you do?” You said, smirking.
“What?! Why whenever I ask for help you assume I did something?” He asked.
“Because you two boys always seem to get yourselves into trouble.” You told him, crossing your arms.
“Well that’s right, actually.” He said quietly.
“Oh god, what the hell did you do?” You said glaring at him.
He bit his lip and suddenly embraced you. You can hear him quietly crying into your shoulder, he pat his back at try to suppress the look of surprise on your face.
“Uh, Sam….’” You said uncertainly.
“I’m sorry (Y/N)” He pulled away from you and you could see tear tracks on his face. “I have to tell you what happened… well Charlie left and went to a motel and the uh… the Steins found her.” Sam said, he wasn’t holding back his tears anymore.
“T-they what!? Is she okay?! Where is she?!” You asked frantically.
“Sh-she died.” He said it slowly.
You felt as if as someone had shot you, and you suddenly remembered all the times you spent with Charlie. All the times you’ve joked around with her and hunted various monster with her. You felt tears falling down you your face and Sam staring at your blank face, but your mind was elsewhere. You felt Sam hug you again as you recalled all the times you argued with her. How pointless those arguments seemed now, you regretted anything rude you ever called her, and every time you were mad at her for no reason.
You pulled away from Sam and wiped the tears off your face.
“Did… Did you burn her?” Your voice cracked as you asked him.
“No not yet, we wanted to wait for you.” He said
You nodded your head towards Sam and buried you’re head in your hands trying to hide your crying face from Sam.
“C’mon (Y/N), She deserves a proper burial.” Sam stuck his hand out for you to grab. You obliged, and walked down the hallway in silence. You missed everything about Charlie, from the color of her hair, to the sound of her laugh. You longed for something to remember by, something to remind you of why you keep fighting. You shoved your free hand into your bag searching for something of hers. Your fingers rested on a necklace she gave you a long time ago. This would be how you remembered her by.
“I cannot find her anywhere. I’ve been searching.”
“Then search farther.”
“Dean, I do not think that I will be able to. Even if I do, I am not sure it would amount to anything.”
Dean flung his hand out. The wall shook with the hit. “Find her anyway, damn it.”
“Dean.” Sam stepped forward.
Dean shook his head. “If you two won’t find her, I will.” He grabbed the keys from the desk and strode out the door.
“Dean. Dean!” Sam followed him out the door. He grabbed Dean’s shoulders and spun him. “Where the hell are you going? You can’t fly up to heaven.”
Dean yanked his shoulder free of Sam’s grasp. “I’ll find a way.”
Sam’s eyes softened. “You’re going to miss the funeral.”
“That won’t matter once I find her.”
“Dean.”
“I’ll call you later, Sammy.” He turned to walk to the car. Halfway to it, he hesitated. Dean spoke to Sam without turning around. “Be careful, Sam.”
“You don’t have to leave. We’ll- we’ll find her. Just stay here with us.”
A tear wet the dust in front Dean’s feet. “I have to do this.”
The Impala bounced up and down over the hot asphalt. Rock blared through the speakers, cutting through the closed windows and out into the countryside. Dean sped forward. A den of vampires was nestled into a nice little abandoned warehouse in Illinois.
A buzzing came from the passenger seat. Dean turned the music off. Without taking his eyes off the road, he reached over and flipped the phone open. “It’s Dean.”
“Dean, where the hell are you?” Sam’s voice crackled from the distance.
“County Road 17.”
“In?”
“Illinois.”
“Illinois? You’re hunting those vampires alone?”
“Yep.”
“What the hell are you thinking? That’s the biggest nest we have ever found. You’re going to be killed.”
“I’ll be fine, Sammy.”
“Getting yourself killed isn’t going to solve anything. She’s-“
Dean snapped the phone shut. It bounced over to the passenger seat where it remained unanswered. The nest was miles away. He could return Sam’s calls later.
Sixteen steps. That’s how long it took Dean to walk from the Impala to the door of the store. Five steps and he was inside. It took him one step to throw the knife into the demon’s back once a burst of noise echoed around the store. Ten more and he was at your side, holding your crumpled body in his arms, choking back tears, telling you it would be alright. You knew the second the gun went off. You knew your next visitor would be Death’s reaper.
Still, being wrapped up in Dean’s arms for your final moments filled you with some comfort. He cried. He pressed the heel of his hand against the bleeding wound. He screamed curses at the demons and prayers to the Lord. Stuttered words choked out of your mouth. Words of attempted comfort. Words meant to tell Dean that he would be fine, but your voice drained with the blood.
He cradled your face with his hand when he realized there was no way to save you. You told him he was right. He was right. He was always right. It was your fault. You didn’t listen. If you had you wouldn’t be bleeding out.
He shook his head with every sentence of blame. He cried. It wasn’t your fault. He should have done more. He should have driven faster. He should have should have should have. But didn’t. He didn’t do a damn thing other than say it would be stupid. Risky. A bad idea. Nothing any hunter would ever listen to. And now he held you as you died.
Dean was still crying for you when you took your last breath. He was still gripping your hand when you stood up again, a ghost. He was still screaming your name when you took the reaper’s hand and walked away.
Gravel spit out in all directions from under the Impala’s tires. The car pulled to a stop next to a graffiti-covered brick wall. Dean looked at the passenger’s seat. It was time to call Sam.
He answered on the first ring, relief rushing into his voice. “Dean, where are you? I’m on my way.”
“Don’t come, Sammy.”
“What the hell were you thinking?”
“I can kill them. I will.”
“Stop and think this over for a minute. There are over twenty-five vampires in that nest. We could barely fight that many when we had backup.”
“Yeah, well, that’s when I was younger.”
“What difference does it make?”
“Some of us get better with time.”
Sam ignored the joking tone of Dean’s voice. “I’m worried about you. You’ve gotten reckless since…” He trailed off.
“I fight the same as I always have. I give those bastards the hell they deserve.”
“And you let them give it back in return. I mean look at all the close encounters you’ve had in the past few years alone. There was the djinn incident. The time when a werewolf almost ripped your guts out. A witch nearly used you as a blood offering once. When are you going to stop flirting with death, Dean?”
Dean was silent for a moment before returning the comment with a weak laugh in his voice. “I would hardly call my relationship with Death flirtatious. It’s more of a business relationship, although he did buy me pizza once.”
“Damn it, Dean, stop joking! This isn’t funny. I’m worried about you. You’re going to die if you keep fighting like this. I know you miss her.” Sam’s voice softened. “I miss Jess every day. But we have to move on. We have to keep fighting for them. Do you think she would have wanted you to lie down and let some beast tear you apart? Dean, please, try to survive, for her if not for me.”
Dean stiffened. “I have to go, Sammy.”
“What? Dean?”
“The sun’s going down. They’ll be out soon. I need the advantage if I’m going to kill them. Bye, Sammy.” He paused. “Take care of yourself.”
Dean had begged, pleaded, even stole from you to keep you from the hunt. He told you it wouldn’t end well. The demon was more powerful than you would expect. If you waited, then you and him and Sam would all go with a plan. He begged.
Then he woke up. You were gone. A slip of paper was on your pillow telling him you’d be back in hours with the demon’s death on your soul. He cussed and ran outside, still shirtless.
Somewhere between the store a few states over and his motel, he found a shirt. It smelled like you. He pressed the gas pedal down harder.
He sped through tiny towns. A car was never in front of him for more than five seconds before he changed into another lane and flew past it. Somehow, no police chased him.
Save her. Save her. Save her. It became his mantra. If he lost you, he didn’t know what would happen. All he knew was that he had to save you.
Dean pulled the machete from its case. Then he burst into the room. Vampires snapped their gazes to him, their teeth flashing out. Dean cracked his neck.
“Come on, who’s making the first move?” Twenty-five vampires stared back at him.
One lunged. Dean swung the blade toward it, slicing through the beast’s neck. Its head rolled toward the rest of the nest. They watched it roll to their feet. A high-pitched scream came from a female vampire near the front. She leapt. The rest followed
Dean slashed, smacked, and struck. Bodies collapsed left and right. Teeth gnashed near his ear.
Fifteen bodies lay dead at his feet by the times his arms first began to tire. He heaved in breaths, using his elbows now to slam into faces that were getting too close. He knew the way you had. This was not a fight to get out of. It was a fight to take as many with him as he could. Dean continued to slice through the creatures until they began pulling out their own weapons.
He danced between knife blades. Each step was slower than the last. It wouldn’t be much longer. But only four more remained. He could fight them. He could take down four.
One lunge. One slash. One down.
Two snuck up from behind him. He ducked, spun on the ball of his foot. The machete cut through the air and into the vampires. Two more dead.
He jabbed the last one when it tried to run. There, over its headless body, he stood for minutes, chest heaving. They were all dead. It was time to go back to Sam. Keep him safe again.
Dean collapsed a few feet from the door. The knife slid across the side of his throat in a second. A miscount of the dead bodies. One survived.
He knew. Even when Sam rushed through the door he knew. This was the end. No more miracles or angels. This was it.
Sam pulled his own machete out. Chased the vampire. Dean didn’t see the result. Didn’t care to see another beheading. Sammy could win this fight.
Sammy returned; fell to his knees in front of his gasping brother. Dean focused his glazed vision on Sam. The word no formed on his lips when Sam’s trembling fingers tried to piece together the large vein.
“Dean.” Sam’s bottom lip trembled.
“Don’t worry, Sammy, it’ll be alright.” Dean’s pale face contorted into a grimace. Shallow breaths in and out, in and out, echoed through the room.
“No, Dean, we’ll fix this. We’ll fix it. I swear. I’ll do something.” His gaze shifted around the room frantically, searching for some solution.
“It’s too late. Sammy,” Amongst the pain in his expression, a full smile emerged, “I can finally tell her I’m sorry. I can finally- finally apologize.”
“Dean, no. Please don’t leave me.” But Dean wasn’t listening to Sam. His eyes focused on a point far past Sam and any wall.
“She needed me. I failed her. I failed her. She’ll hear it. She’ll understand…” His gaze focused again on Sam’s red face. “Sammy.” He understood what he was leaving behind on Earth. “Take care of yourself. You know how to fight. Don’t let them do this. I don’t want to see you up there for years. Understand?”
Sam nodded, fighting tears.
“Sammy, I’ll find Jess. I’ll find her. We’ll wait for you, okay? We’ll wait for you up there together. Me and her and Jess. We’ll be your welcoming party.” He coughed up a laugh. “Sammy, I promise.” With a final shudder, Dean’s limp head gently fell back into Sam’s shaking hands.
