Fic: In the End, Dean-Centric Gen, R
Title: In the End
Author: wornoutbirks
Rating: R
Fandom: Supernatural.
Pairing: Gen, Dean-Centric
Warnings: Character Death, Suicide. AU from the end of Season 5.
Disclaimer: These are the characters of Supernatural and they are the property of their creator, who is not me. I'm not making money from this and intend no harm.
Summary: In the end, when you've got nothing left, what can you do?
Word Count: ~420
Author's Note: I'm not in a good place mentally. This is what happens when I sink into depressive states.
Sometimes he just sits and stares at nothing. Usually it's on some back road at night that reminds him of more innocent times. He wonders what life would be like if everything had gone differently. If Mom hadn't woken up that night, if he hadn't made that deal to save Sam, if Cas had never pulled him from Hell. He thinks about how it might have turned out if Cas had never lost his faith, if they'd killed Ruby the first time they met her, if Gabriel hadn't died in that motel, if Sammy wasn't locked up in the Pit.
He never does go to Lisa's. He drives by once or twice, just to check on them. He hasn't heard from Cas in months, hasn't answered Bobby's calls in three weeks. He's been driving, hunting, trying to forget.
Five months in, Bobby stops calling. Two weeks after that, Dean pulls up in front of a church; a church for huntsmen somewhere in East Bumfuck, Maine. He gets down on his knees and prays with everything he's got. That tentative connection to Cas is all that's keeping him going.
There's no answer. He stays there on his knees as long as he can bear the pain and then for two more hours just for good measure. He gives up around four in the afternoon; the sun is just disappearing below the horizon when he walks back outside.
“See ya 'round, Cas.” He whispers to the fading light.
He books a room at the only motel in town for the night and packs everything up in a box like he's done on more than one occasion before.
He writes a quick letter explaining where he wants everything to go. It's all going to Bobby, even his body; Bobby will know what to do with it. He writes a couple sentences about how this isn't, in a million years, Bobby's fault and if he feels so much as a smidgen of guilt, Dean promises to haunt his ass until he dies and then some.
He signs it and puts it on top of the box. He lets his hand linger for a moment.
Then he picks up the gun.
He's always known where to shoot himself; John taught them early, just in case they got into a situation they couldn't get out of. He'd said he didn't want his boys to suffer.
He presses the metal to his skin, closes his eyes, takes a deep breath, and tightens his finger.
Then nothing.
Author: wornoutbirks
Rating: R
Fandom: Supernatural.
Pairing: Gen, Dean-Centric
Warnings: Character Death, Suicide. AU from the end of Season 5.
Disclaimer: These are the characters of Supernatural and they are the property of their creator, who is not me. I'm not making money from this and intend no harm.
Summary: In the end, when you've got nothing left, what can you do?
Word Count: ~420
Author's Note: I'm not in a good place mentally. This is what happens when I sink into depressive states.
Sometimes he just sits and stares at nothing. Usually it's on some back road at night that reminds him of more innocent times. He wonders what life would be like if everything had gone differently. If Mom hadn't woken up that night, if he hadn't made that deal to save Sam, if Cas had never pulled him from Hell. He thinks about how it might have turned out if Cas had never lost his faith, if they'd killed Ruby the first time they met her, if Gabriel hadn't died in that motel, if Sammy wasn't locked up in the Pit.
He never does go to Lisa's. He drives by once or twice, just to check on them. He hasn't heard from Cas in months, hasn't answered Bobby's calls in three weeks. He's been driving, hunting, trying to forget.
Five months in, Bobby stops calling. Two weeks after that, Dean pulls up in front of a church; a church for huntsmen somewhere in East Bumfuck, Maine. He gets down on his knees and prays with everything he's got. That tentative connection to Cas is all that's keeping him going.
There's no answer. He stays there on his knees as long as he can bear the pain and then for two more hours just for good measure. He gives up around four in the afternoon; the sun is just disappearing below the horizon when he walks back outside.
“See ya 'round, Cas.” He whispers to the fading light.
He books a room at the only motel in town for the night and packs everything up in a box like he's done on more than one occasion before.
He writes a quick letter explaining where he wants everything to go. It's all going to Bobby, even his body; Bobby will know what to do with it. He writes a couple sentences about how this isn't, in a million years, Bobby's fault and if he feels so much as a smidgen of guilt, Dean promises to haunt his ass until he dies and then some.
He signs it and puts it on top of the box. He lets his hand linger for a moment.
Then he picks up the gun.
He's always known where to shoot himself; John taught them early, just in case they got into a situation they couldn't get out of. He'd said he didn't want his boys to suffer.
He presses the metal to his skin, closes his eyes, takes a deep breath, and tightens his finger.
Then nothing.