Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural.

Author's Note: I had this idea as I was getting out of the shower and had to write it immediately.

Warnings: Spoilers for season 7.

When all was said and done, the end of Dean Winchester was not a pretty sight.

Sometime after salting, burning, and burying his father figure, Dean had been forced to commit his little brother to a mental institution. It wasn't so much that Sam had devolved to the point where he was openly having audible conversations with an invisible Lucifer so much as it was the fact that Dean couldn't handle it when his brother started full on pantomiming being Lucifer's bitch boy. There was just something about watching his brother hump the air while begging Lucifer to be gentle that Dean couldn't deal with anymore.

Alone on the road again, Dean had fallen into heavy drinking while going out and hunting down the strongest evil sons of bitches he could find. He lived in denial, lies, and booze for months before he could no longer hide the signs of jaundice with makeup. But it was not alcohol that brought about Dean's end.

Having lost track of the days, the months, it had been since his life had started going to hell, Dean decided it was time to go visit his baby. Abandoning the junker he had picked up several towns before, Dean walked the rest of the way to the storage where the impala was located. It didn't take him long to gain access to the vehicle and soon he was driving down the highway. He hadn't gone more than ten miles before his phone rang.

"Yeah?"

"Dean!" The voice on the other end was achingly familiar, and painfully loud.

"Sammy? What… How'd you get a pho-"

"Dean! I want you to know I've got this!"

"Got what, Sam?" He could hear orderlies from the mental institution in the background. From what he could hear, Sam was somewhere he shouldn't be.

"I've got him, Dean! Lucifer! Don't worry; I'm keeping him distracted… He won't get out of the pit…" Sam's voice suddenly faded as apparently the orderlies made it to where he was. He could still hear Sam's voice as it faded. "I stopped it Dean! We'll be safe now! Go see Lisa…"

"I'm so sorry, Mr. Smith. He's been having a bit of trouble this week… I need to see to your brother now, but I'll contact you once he's settled for an update."

"Yeah…" Dean just barely choked the words out. "Later…"

And then the line was dead.

Dean's eyes were flooded as the phone fell limply from his grasp. It was as he was reaching to wipe the tears away that it happened. A normal enough accident in a moment of inattention as the impala suddenly slammed into a deer.

The wheel jerked out of Dean's grasp as hooves were suddenly in his face, pushing him back into his seat as he hit the brakes. The impala ran into a ditch, the front end wrapping around an old power pole on impact. Dean lost consciousness.

He wasn't sure how long he was out. All Dean knew was that his phone was ringing somewhere and he couldn't feel anything except a wet sensation. He tried to reach for his phone to turn it off, but couldn't with the way he was pinned in place. It took a while, but he managed to open his eyes and see the destruction of the impala's hood, partially blocked with a mess of fur and blood.

Dean fumbled for the handle on the door, but once his fingers were on it, he didn't even have the energy to open it. His eyes drifted closed again and he knew, even as his fingers fell off the door to land with a wet splat in what he just knew was blood that it was over. He was finally going to be out of this life. It was going to be over. Finally.

And that's when he heard it.

A faint rustling sound that he hadn't heard in ages reached Dean's ears. The sound of footsteps approached the mangled impala and his fingers itched to reach for his gun. Instead, he struggled to open his eyes again. When he did, he saw blue.

"Oh no, Dean…" The voice was gruff, deep and familiar. It was also amused. "I'm not quite done destroying you, yet."

He felt a brush against his forehead. His body slowly repaired itself to a level that did not threaten his life. He heard the footsteps retreat. The sound of wings as the presence left. And he knew he would survive this crash. His time was not over yet.

Dean wept.