THIS IS HOW THE SPN FINALE SHALL HAPPEN, FOR SRS:
The world is ending. Not with a bang, not with a whimper. There is screaming and screeching and the sound of everything good being sucked into Hell. Black-eyed soldiers rummaged through the wreckage of the city, some downtown area of Detroit where cars had long ago been abandoned along with any hope their owners may have possessed.
There was no one else. A couple hunters, an rapidly falling angel, and an entire army circling around them. It had the air of a final showdown, the distant rumble of thunder and the occasional gunshot that seemed miles off.
It was the end of the world as they knew.
None of them were feeling very fine.
The slice down Castiel's back had stained his trenchcoat red, a slow blossom of red that seemed too human to be his. But the angel had had worse in the last few weeks, and the pain meds in his system were no doubt keeping him numb to the worst of it.
Sam's nose was bleeding, a gash across his forehead and a leg that didn't seem to work properly anymore.
Dean had lost count of his own wounds, but Sam was counting them for him. His little brother had caught him when his knees finally gave out, keeping a hold of them as they both dropped to the cold black ground. The tally so far: broken bones and five deep stabs to the side that one lucky son of a bitch had managed to get it. Demon claws were sharp.
At least Lucifer was looking a bit worn around the edges too. Because Sammy hadn't given in and at this stage of the game, Dean didn't think he would. They'd go down fighting together.
If that were the case...Dean only had one more thing he wanted to say. Looking up at his brother, who looked down with this sad brown eyes, Dean smiled.
"Sam....I can see the Shire."
Sam looked down at him, incredulous, and promptly dropped Dean to the ground. "Dean. Not now. This is not an appropriate time."
Dean offered a sincere look.
"....I'm glad to be with you, Samwise Winchester....here at the end of all things."
Sam threw his hands up in the universal gesture for 'I give up' and stood. He shook his head. Topped it off with a 'I can't believe this shit' face and stomped off. "You know what? Fine."
"Dude, c'mon! It's funny!" Dean called after him. "Remember Bobby Singer dancing? He had ribbons in his hair!"
Sam flipped him off without even looking as he made a beeline for Lucifer.
"...wait...Sam? SAM?! Don't...oh, son of a bitch."
Later, holed up in a warehouse, a glassy-eyed and very wobbly Castiel patted Dean on the arm and said, "Well, I thought it was amusing."
There was no one else. A couple hunters, an rapidly falling angel, and an entire army circling around them. It had the air of a final showdown, the distant rumble of thunder and the occasional gunshot that seemed miles off.
It was the end of the world as they knew.
None of them were feeling very fine.
The slice down Castiel's back had stained his trenchcoat red, a slow blossom of red that seemed too human to be his. But the angel had had worse in the last few weeks, and the pain meds in his system were no doubt keeping him numb to the worst of it.
Sam's nose was bleeding, a gash across his forehead and a leg that didn't seem to work properly anymore.
Dean had lost count of his own wounds, but Sam was counting them for him. His little brother had caught him when his knees finally gave out, keeping a hold of them as they both dropped to the cold black ground. The tally so far: broken bones and five deep stabs to the side that one lucky son of a bitch had managed to get it. Demon claws were sharp.
At least Lucifer was looking a bit worn around the edges too. Because Sammy hadn't given in and at this stage of the game, Dean didn't think he would. They'd go down fighting together.
If that were the case...Dean only had one more thing he wanted to say. Looking up at his brother, who looked down with this sad brown eyes, Dean smiled.
"Sam....I can see the Shire."
Sam looked down at him, incredulous, and promptly dropped Dean to the ground. "Dean. Not now. This is not an appropriate time."
Dean offered a sincere look.
"....I'm glad to be with you, Samwise Winchester....here at the end of all things."
Sam threw his hands up in the universal gesture for 'I give up' and stood. He shook his head. Topped it off with a 'I can't believe this shit' face and stomped off. "You know what? Fine."
"Dude, c'mon! It's funny!" Dean called after him. "Remember Bobby Singer dancing? He had ribbons in his hair!"
Sam flipped him off without even looking as he made a beeline for Lucifer.
"...wait...Sam? SAM?! Don't...oh, son of a bitch."
Later, holed up in a warehouse, a glassy-eyed and very wobbly Castiel patted Dean on the arm and said, "Well, I thought it was amusing."