Work Text:
~She lives in a fairytale to far for us to find~
Tears streaked down my face as the songs lyrics washed over my broken mind. The silver knife in my hand shined brightly in the dim light of the motel bathtoom. I couldn't anymore. An entire life of hunting and my broken and battered soul couldn't hang on anymore. I took the knife and poised it over my stomach, wanting to end it quickly. No superficial cuts. One straight stab. My salty tears fell from my eyes, beading on the knife the Winchesters had given me when I was 6. My father and John had been hunting buddies and I had grown up with the brothers. My dad was not the sutble type and dropped me into the world of hunting when I was 6.
My hand shook as my emotions rampaged through my mind, finaly released from the tight bottle they lived in. 20 years of hunting and a healthy dose of depression and anxiety waging a war in my soul. I allways hid my feelings. Allways. I never talked about them. I just used humor and sarcasam to fob off any offending emotions and pretended I was fine. I sucked in a shakey breath, steeling my hand. It was time. Just let go. I hummed sadly along to the song that explained everything for me. The boys where on a hunt and had left me to do some resesearch. I needed to hurry as I knew they would be home soon. I closed my eyes and as the song grew to its chorus I slid the knife into my gut. A cold pain enveloped my abdomen that sent more tears spilling out if my eyes. I coiled myself up on up on the floor watching absently as a puddle of blood formed under me. For some reason all I felt was numb. No pain.
Just as I closed my eyes the door to the bathroom opened. "Holy shit! Sam!" Dean cried as he fell to his knees next to me. "You're going to be ok Brooke. You're going to be ok just stay with me" he choked and I was shocked to see tears in his deep green eyes. Sam ran into the bathroom and he froze, his eyes the size of saucers. "Oh no..." he whispered solemly. Dean noticed the bloody knife wrapped firmly in my grasp and he paled. "You...did this... why" he asked in shock. I coughed, blood filling my mouth and staining my lips. "I...couldn't hang...hang on" I coughed my eyes fluttering closed. I could feel my life force draining quickly. "Sam start the car!" Dean growled. The youngest brother stayed still a sad look on his face. "Dean you and I both know she is past saving" he murrmered causing Dean to yell inchoerently. "NO! She hasn't given up on us and I won't give up on her!" He cracked, a tear slipping down his cheek. I weakly lifted my hand to his cheek causing him to look down at me with a watery smile. "Hang in there" he demanded softly and I shook my head. "Let me go Dean. Its over" I huffed, my breathing slowing down. As my eyes slid shut and darkness encompassed me I felt him squeeze my body. "No, no, no, no open your eyes! Brooke please no" he begged as tears streamed down his face. I let out a final gust of breath before falling still.
Freedom. A painless afterlife. Dean screamed her name, shaking her lifeless body whislt Sam watched on, slient tears streaking down his face. Both of the brothers loved her. She was the sister they never had. To see her cold and pale corpse broke something in him he knew would never truley be fixed. A part of his heart died with her. Watching her body burn on a woodstack made him wish it was him up there, not her. She didn't deserve this. She deserved to be happy. For her humor and exitability to florish, not be crushed by a life of hunting. The say the best die young. They couldn't be more right...