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SAM!
The voice sounded far away, muffled and lost among the sirens in his head. He couldn’t place it, as if it was from a distant dream or a memory from a happier time. He couldn’t get distracted by ghostly voices though. Not now, not when his life and the fate of the world were in his hands. He had to concentrate. He turned another corner, holding his breath and hoping his footsteps wouldn’t echo through the dark halls ahead.
Another voice cut through the thick silence of the bunker. This one loud and close, familiar in a way that pierced Sam’s heart after all these years.
“Oh Sammy. You really thought you could sneak up on me?” Dean’s sinister chuckle sent terror through Sam’s veins. He froze as the monster he once called his brother stepped into the corridor in front of him. Green eyes turned black as Dean looked him up and down. Assessing his state, and Sam felt naked under that cold demonic gaze. Sam was aged, greying at the temples, bearded and thinner now. He knew his face was gaunt from stress and his eyes carried dark heavy bags from lack of sleep. Dean however, looked exactly the same as he had the last time he had seen him 5 years ago.
“You look like crap brother.”
Dean smirked and took another step forward. Sam gripped the blade he was holding tighter, raising it in preparation. Dean just raised an eyebrow.
“All these years… you spent all that time travelling the world, searching for a way to stop me, and this is all you have to show for it?” He chuckled pitifully. “Unless you somehow got a mark on your arm to go with it, you know that thing can’t hurt me. But I’m grateful you’ve returned it. Been wondering about that ever since Cas took it from me back in ’22.”
Sam felt the sting of grief at the mention of Cas’s name from Dean’s lips. At Dean’s evil grin Sam realised his face must have shown the pain and mentally chastised himself from letting any emotion get through. The demon in front of him would only use it against him, as he had done plenty of times before.
“Aww. You still hung up on that huh? Poor Castiel. So desperate to save me… to bring back the pathetic excuse for a human I used to be… You know he had to die Sammy. He wouldn’t let me go.”
Sam kept his face blank, holding the First Blade in front of him. If the magic he had sought out over 5 long and lonely years was as solid as he believed it was, he could end this right here. He just had to make sure that Dean didn’t pick up on it. Sam realised that distracting Dean with the pains of the past might just work.
“Cas believed in you. He believed you still had good in you.”
“Cas was a goddamn fool.” Dean snapped back.
Sam shook his head and took another step forward.
“No. You don’t get to talk about him like that. He was more of a brother to me in those years than you ever were. You killed him because he shone a mirror to what you had become. Because you couldn’t stand to see the disappointment in his eyes.”
Dean held a hand to his heart in mock shock.
“Ouch. Sammy you’re breaking my heart here.” He replied sarcastically.
“You don’t have a heart left to break.” Sam spat at him.
“True.” Dean agreed. “Perhaps if Castiel had figured that out sooner he wouldn’t have got caught on the wrong end of his own angel blade.”
SAM PLEASE!
In amongst the anger and grief he felt in that moment there was that voice again. It sounded louder, closer, but still so far away…
The memory of Castiel’s death still stung… or did it? He suddenly found he couldn’t remember it, only the fact that it had happened. The moment confused him and unfortunately he paused for too long. Before Sam could react, Dean’s fist hit his face. The white hot sting across his cheekbone left him stunned but he pulled himself back into the moment with enough time to block Dean’s second hit. Dean didn’t carry a weapon, but his demonic strength and blackened soul were weapon enough to be deadly – that Sam knew all too well. He managed to block another hit and swung the first blade out in time to catch Dean’s arm. The demon jumped back, eyes turned black again, and raised his arm to inspect the wound. It oozed red blood and Dean watched in mild confusion at how it didn’t heal straight away. He blinked and green eyes almost looked impressed.
“Clever brother. Always knew you go full witch one day. Enchanted the blade somehow? That’s pretty dark. That kind of magic always has a price though Sammy…”
Sam gulped in a deep breath and held the blade aloft, letting the magic surrounding hit shimmer in the dull bunker lights.
“It was worth the price. It means I can end this once and for all.”
He raised his other arm and revealed a deep red gash, exactly the same as the one he had just given to his brother. Dean eyed the wound curiously then widened his eyes in realisation.
“Soul magic.” Dean correctly guessed. Sam nodded.
“Eye for an eye. Tooth for a tooth. Death for Death. I’m ending this NOW. For both of us.”
Sam please! It’s not REAL!
That voice again, pleading this time? What was happening? He shook it off again and stared down his brother. For the first time Dean actually looked scared. Sam took his chance. Again they fought, and there was no holding back. Dean got in a few more punches but Sam’s determination gave him the upper hand. Dean had lost his arrogance once he realised he could be harmed, and it would be his downfall. The demon took an attempt at a swing but Sam acted too quickly, he pushed forward with all his force and felt the blade sink into his brother’s chest. Immediately the searing pain of his own chest being ripped into by the magic flooded him and he gritted his teeth to keep holding himself upright. Dean coughed, and spat out blood. He raised a hand and patted Sam’s cheek.
“Well there you go Sammy… Always knew it would be you…” He coughed. “It had to be you.” Dean huffed a small laugh and dropped his head forward, going still. He was dead.
Sam blinked back tears and used the last of his strength to withdraw the blade, watching Dean’s body drop to the ground in a heap. It was done.
Sam fell to his knees and tasted the metallic tang of blood. He gasped for breath and smiled. He could finally get some peace. It was always meant to end like this.
No! Stop it! You’re hurting him! Please SAM! COME BACK!
As his vision blurred around the edges and he lie down next to the body of his brother he heard that voice again. He liked that voice, it felt like coming home… perhaps it was heaven? Why was it so distressed? This was good wasn’t it? This was how the story was always meant to go?
This is how the story is always meant to go.
Yes, Sam thought. That was right. But that was a different voice. He recognised that voice too, but felt suddenly angry. He didn’t like that voice. He had fallen on his back now, and turned his head to look at Dean’s lifeless form. Soon, he thought. Soon they could meet again perhaps? Find each other in heaven. He reached out to touch…
He reaches out to touch Dean’s face, it’s so tragic, but Sam feels peace. Don’t you see? Can’t you understand why this is the ONLY ending that matters?
Sam blinked and his surroundings shimmered and changed. He couldn’t feel the chest wound anymore, in fact, he wasn’t even lying down, but sitting upright in a wooden chair. Everything was hazy. He blinked again and saw Dean’s empty bloody face staring back at him…
Just STOP! Why are you doing this? Just let us go!
Sam knew that voice. He cared about that voice. If only he could place…
EILEEN!
Sam gasped and sat up straight as he was violently forced back into the present. Into reality. Sitting opposite him was Eileen, his beautiful, wonderful Eileen! She was tied to a chair but otherwise seemed unharmed. Dean wasn’t dead, he wasn’t a demon! Cas was alive! It had all been another vision. The rush of relief filled him, and for a moment he thought he might weep for joy. But this was quickly followed by a sinking feeling in his stomach as he took in his present situation.
Standing in front of Eileen, glaring at Sam with a displeased look on his face, was Chuck.
END