“No, no, no, don’t die on me!”
But those words were too late ;; Dean was slipping. He could feel his eyelids getting heavy, the weight of his shoulders lessening as life slipped from his body.
❝ You look after my car, or I’m gonna haunt your ass… ❞
It was a feeble attempt at a joke, his hand clasped to the back of his brothers neck, fingers digging into his skin. No chick flick moment, Sammy. The words were on his tongue, but he couldn’t say them. Because in that moment, he didn’t care that his little brother was crying, he didn’t care that he could feel tears streaking down his own cheeks. There were just three words that he wanted to say to him, wanted Sam to always remember. Three words he managed to whisper before slipping away.
❝ I love you… ❞
