So this is my first attempt at a Supernatural story, hope it's alright. This is a death fic just so you know. Please send me your opinions! It is set any time after season one!
Until the End
They really should have known. The house was over a hundred years old, it was abandoned, its floors covered in a thick coat of dust. No one had been in the house for decades, because of the rumored homicidal spirit that was said to reside in it.
The rumor had been tossed around the small town, the town that the boys had just happened to be passing through.
They had gone to check it out even though there had been no reported deaths, because they were Winchesters, and as Winchesters they wanted to make sure that the spirit was just a rumor…wanted to make sure that no one was in danger.
There had been no angry spirit, no spirit at all.
But there was the creaky floorboards, the stained windowpanes, the thick dusty air…and with it came hidden danger.
The two were cracking jokes, laughing about something or other, ready to hit the road and put the grimy, isolated house behind them.
Fate had other plans.
It only took a split second; they were walking down the stairs and back to the busted front door when they suddenly became weightless. Their flashlights flew out of their hands, and both brothers felt as if they were floating right before they were sent plunging into the basement.
Darkness greeted them.
Dean awoke first, the pain in his body reaching its highest point as he came back to consciousness.
He tried to move, tried to figure out what had happened in his muddled brain. His body would not respond to his commands, and he realized that from the waist down he was pinned beneath debris.
The darkness was thick with dust, and he coughed violently, already able to taste copper at the back of his throat. Dean already had a good idea of what his injuries were, probable internal damage, concussion, crushed legs.
He was screwed, and he realized with a jolt that Sam had fallen too. He was lying down, but Dean pushed himself into a half seated position, crying out in horrible pain as he did so. His vision swam and he nearly puked, but he got himself under control and scanned through the darkness.
His eyes found the form of his brother immediately only a few feet away, and when he took in Sam's current state, he gave up on the fight to vomit.
Sam…Sammy…wake-up…c'mon buddy…
Sam heard the voice, which sounded vaguely familiar, but he could not do what it asked. He felt so comfortable in the haze that currently surrounded him, so warm…so safe.
The voice was insistent, and Sam couldn't completely ignore it this time.
Please…Sammy, please you have to wake up! Please little brother…I don't want to be alone…
Of course, it was his brother. It was always his brother, because Dean was always there.
Groaning, Sam pulled himself away from the comforting dream as he allowed Dean's voice to guide him back to consciousness. "Ddddeaaannnn…." He moaned, his eyes fluttering as agony seared through his body.
Dean allowed himself to lay back down, his neck craned as he watched his brother's dark form stir, "It's alright Sammy, I'm here." He swallowed the lump in his throat as he watched his sibling fight through the pain.
When Sam had fallen he had managed to impale his left side with a jagged piece of wood, and even though Dean could barely make out anything in the darkness, he knew that the wood was saturated in his brother's blood.
Sam breathed deeply through the biting pain; he could feel the wetness down his left side, a sticky substance on the nape of his neck suggested that he had hit his head and his right ankle was throbbing….probably broken.
"You alright?" Sam rasped, trying to get up and turn towards his brother. He screamed in agony as white hot pain lanced through his side, and he fell back down, panting.
"Don't move!" Dean cried sharply, "Sam, you have a piece of wood lodged into your side, whatever you do, stay still."
"Ughh…alright…you, okay though?" Sam questioned again through painful rasps, he could smell vomit in the musty air, and knew that it had to be his brothers.
There was a brief silence before Dean answered quietly, "My legs are pinned and I smacked my head pretty hard." There was no point telling his brother about the suspected internal bleeding, there was nothing either of them could do.
"I think my ankle is broken." Sam answered in return, looking upwards. There was nothing above him but rotting wood and debris from the upper floor. "Stairs gave way, right? I don't really remember much…"
"Uh, yeah we're somewhere in the basement I think…the hole must of closed in on itself with all the debris."
"You try your cell phone?" Sam asked hopefully.
"It was crushed in the fall; I can feel the pieces in my back pocket," Dean answered, "What about yours?"
Sam struggled to reach into his jacket, gasping raggedly as he pulled the phone out triumphantly. Hands shaking and slippery with blood, he waved his arm around in the air, trying futilely to get reception. "Its no use, there isn't any service down here." He finally croaked as he arm dropped back to the ground.
"It's alright, Sammy, we'll be okay…" Dean reassured him.
But both of them knew better. They weren't getting out of here without help, and help seemed very far away.
The minutes passed slowly, and Sam took turns from staring at his cell phone and craning his neck so that he could see his brother.
The pain was starting to get dull, and Sam wondered how much time they had left. "Dean…"
It took a little while for Dean to answer, and his voice was thick with both pain and exhaustion, "Yeah?"
"I'm tired…"
Dean swallowed the lump that had formed in his throat, "Me too, little bro, me too…" He attempted to shift slightly, his arm snaking forward, trying to reach Sam's hand.
Sam detected the movement, and tried to meet his brother's hand with his own. Ignoring the pain, he stretched his long arm and managed to clasp his brother's sweaty, dirty palm.
The touch reassured both Winchesters, more than words ever could. They were together, and that was all that mattered.
Half an hour passed, and the two continued to fall in and out of consciousness. When they were awake they would talk about the past, about hunts, their father, chicks Dean had fooled around with, about their childhood and Sam's years at Stanford.
Anything to keep their minds off of the pain.
Dean passed out an hour after the fall, and remained unconscious for his longest period yet. He was stirred back into consciousness by Sam, who called his name anxiously over and over again, gripping his hand as tightly as possible.
"Dean…you…w-with me? D-dean…c'mon…dude…" Sam stumbled clumsily over his words, talking was becoming harder.
"'m awake…" Dean whispered in response, blood dribbled out the side of his mouth slowly. It was becoming extremely hard to breathe; there time was running out rapidly.
Sam sighed in relief, slowly closing his eyes he said breathily, "I-I…don't think…we're g-getting…away…t-this…time…"
Dean agreed quietly. "Can't believe…o-of all things…a c-crappy house…t-though we'd g-get…a….heroes d-death…" He rasped, coughing wetly.
Sam smiled sadly, his hand tightening around his brothers, "N-nothing goes…the way…we…think…it w-will…"
"I'm so s-sorry…Sammy, I f-failed…I s-should have p-protected you b-better..." Dean whispered after a few minutes silence. I failed dad, oh God I failed…
"You've…done…a great…job…I m-mean that…Dean…" Sam answered stubbornly, "I couldn't have…a-asked for…a better b-brother than…y-you…" I'd rather die with you than live without you, brother.
Dean felt his eyes welling up with tears that he refused to let spill. Damn chick flick moments. "S-sam…thanks…"
Sam started to shiver a little while later, his massive blood loss becoming painfully real. His fingers curled between Deans as he tried to fight the cold that wracked his frame. "D-dean…I l-love you...d-dude…"
Dean felt no more pain, just dullness throughout his body, the only thing that he was acutely aware of was his brother. He heard Sammy and for once, he didn't hesitate before replying, didn't crack a joke, didn't make fun of his little brother for being sensitive, he simply whispered back, "I love you t-too…"
The two waited for the end, their hands attached together firmly as they lay in the darkness, both of them feeling oddly at peace.
The last few minutes stretched on forever.
"Dean…" Sam slurred suddenly, his shining eyes wide as he stared upwards.
Dean forced his numbing body to respond, managing a weak, "Yeah?"
"D-do…you s-see…them?" Sam choked out between rattling gasps.
"Who, Sammy?" Dean mumbled, lolling his head weakly to look at him.
"M-mom….and d-dad…" Sammy breathed, a smile dawning his pale face, "J-jess..." He turned his head to Dean and whispered, "They're h-here…all o-of them…"
Before Dean could reply, the light faded from Sam's eyes, and his hand went limp in Dean's grasp. The shivering ceased, as did the rattling breaths, but his peaceful smile remained in place.
Sam was gone.
…and Dean followed for the final time.
Finis