The Call

Short

A/N: If there are parts that seem OC, I apologize. Some times I can't get in character, or when I do, it's still not right.

- The Call -

My eyes stared at Dean's belongings that were lying on the empty bed. Some of them were put there by Dean the day before. I wanted to move them but I couldn't bring myself to do it, not yet. Sooner or later I knew I had to. I stood up from the seat and walked to the corner near the door, picking up the plastic bag and I went toward the bed.

"It's now or never," I said, now reaching down, I grabbed Dean's watch. I held on to it, still not ready to get rid of it. The face was scratched up from the hunts we've done over the years. The hands weren't moving, indicating it stopped. 12:00am the time Dean had died. Blinking, I tried to hold back the tears that threatened to fall. I didn't want to cry again. I knew I couldn't. It wouldn't bring him back. Nothing would bring him back.

I continued to stuff his belongings in the plastic bag, not stopping for anything until everything was in it. My head snapped up, startled by the sudden sound of music playing. "Wha'…" I looked around, trying to find out where the sound was coming from. I turned back around, facing the bed again, and for the first time I realized it was coming from Dean's cell phone. "Smoke on water…" I spoke, naming the song that was set as his ringtone.

The phone continued to ring, and I just stand there. Slowly, I reached down, grabbing the phone. I flipped it open, the main screen showed a name. Dean. My eyes widened. The music played until I finally answered the call…

"D-dean?"

"Sammy…"

"Is it really you?"

"No, it's the tooth fairy. Yeah, it's me," Dean replied sarcastically.

"H-how is this possible? You're in…"

"Hell. Yeah, I know. You don't need to remind me. I don't know how really, I just needed to talk to you… I thought about you and wanted to speak to you again, and then suddenly I thought about my cell phone, and I thought, if spirits can communicate through electronics, why can't I?"

"Are you ok?"

"Just peachy," he answered, knowing he couldn't tell him the truth.

I licked my lips, trying hard not to show how upset I was when I spoke. "I'm… sorry, Dean. I tried—"

"You knew I wouldn't let you try to save me. You knew what would've happened if I had let you. I wasn't goin' to let you save me."

"Dean… Bobby is still looking for a way to get you out. We both are."

"If you are, why're you packin' my things?"

"How did you know that?" I asked, stunned.

"Lucky guess, Sammy."

"I'm packing because I had to. Where ever I go, your stuff will go with me. When you come back, your stuff will still be here for you to use."

"Sammy, I'm not comin' back."

"Don't say that!"

"Face it, I'm gone."

"No you're not! You're not gone forever, Dean!"

"Are you takin' care of my car?"

"Damn it Dean, don't change the subject!" I snapped.

"I'll change the subject if I want to. Now answer the question."

I gritted my teeth. I hated it when Dean avoided things. "Yes," I finally said.

"You better be. I'll kick your ass if you don't."

"Right. How do you plan on doing that if you don't plan on coming back?"

"I'll come back to kick your ass for that, if I have to."

I rolled my eyes. "You would come back because of a car, but not for your own brother."

"Oh, come on, we both know I cared more about my car than you."

"I hate you," I said when I knew he was just playing with him.

"I know you do."

A few moments passed, both of them letting silence take over.

"Tell Bobby to stop trying to get me out…"

"What? Dean, I can't hear you. Dean?"

"Tell Bobby to stop trying to save me."

"Dean, I can barely hear you."

"I have to go. Sam, I miss you!"

"Dean? Are you there?" I asked, but I knew it was too late, the phone went dead. I hung up the phone and set it back down on the bed. "I miss you too…"