5 stages of grief
Supernatural fanfiction
Title: 5 stages of grief
Characters: Sam, Dean, Cas
Word count: 875
Summary: Sometimes when you hit a stone you don't end up with a little scratch.
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Warnings:
[Spoiler (click to open)]
characters death, suicide
Author's note: I just discovered that Livejounal don't delete unused accounts even if you've not logged in for almost 6 years! Well that's a good news since i didn't want to create a new one.
All my old post are friends only and they are not fanfictions anyway and most of them are written in french!
This is my first spn fanfiction. It's really short and I didn't know where to find a beta so, all mistakes are mine and since i'm not a native speaker there might be a lot...
It was supposed to be easy.
It should have been easy.
A simple salt and burn. They had already reached the coffin, Dean was opening the bag of salt when the angry spirit appeared behind him. They didn't have time to reach for the shotgun before Sam was thrown against a stone, five yards behind them. Dean covered the body with salt in the meantime and shoot the spirit before pouring the gasoline and throwing his lighter in the grave. The spirit reappeared and Dean shot him for good measure before he disappeared in a scream.
And Dean turned around, facing his brother. And his heart stopped.
There was blood on the stone.
Sam's blood.
Behind his head.
And there was denial first.
"No, no, no" Dean couldn't stop his litany.
"SAM!"
He knelt in front of his brother.
"SAM!"
His baby brother.
"Sam! Don't do this to me!"
But Sam didn't react. Didn't hear him. Didn't move. Didn't breathe.
And no, Dean didn't reached for his neck. Didn't look for a pulse.
Didn't wanna know.
"SAM!"
But he did. He knew. He saw the weird way Sam's head was hanging on his side. Lifeless.
Lifeless. Sam. His brother. His kid.
He reached for his baby brother's face, holding his cheeks between his shaky hands.
~~~~~~
Dean would never be able to say how long he stayed there. Tears rolling down his cheeks. Holding his brother against his chest.
Until the anger came
And he couldn't explain why he suddenly got up, picked up his shovel and started to hit stones with it. The spirit's first. And when it was destroyed to the ground he started smashing the one next to it. Then another one, and another one until he was covered in sweat, panting.
Then he picked up the gasoline and poured it on the graves, drawing a line between Sam and the rest of the world before setting it on fire and collapsing in front of his brother, his back to the growing flames.
"SAM!" he cried, face in his hands.
And an idea came. So simple, so easy. So Winchester. Bargaining.
And yeah he thought about going to a crossroad demon again. Sue him!
But he didn't. He knew no demon would take his soul now.
So, he screamed. And he screamed for Cas to "bring his winged ass right here and right the fuck now before he burnt this fucking world to the ground!"
And when the angel appeared next to Sam, looking contrite, Dean raised his shovel.
"Don't you fucking dare look sorry! Bring him back!"
"I can't Dean..."
"You can't?! You fucking can't?!"
Dean threw his shovel away to grab the angel's collar and raise his fist.
"I don't give a damn what it takes. You bring my fucking brother back!"
"I'm sorry Dean. There is no way...", and if Dean had been open to anything than his brother right then he might have seen the single tear forming in the angel's eyes.
He didn't. He punched the angel's right temple. "There is always a way!" He punched him again, "you're fucking useless Cas!" and again "Fucking Angel of the Fucking Lord!"
And when he realised the angel hadn't moved an inch, had probably not even felt anything he snapped.
He fell on the ground, sobbing, Depressed.
"What am I supposed to do Cas?!", he asked. Not really waiting for an answer from the angel.
What would he know after all. How could he even begin to understand the feeling?
The lack of feeling even.
The emptiness.
How could he realise what it was.
To be a brother. A big brother. A protector. A caretaker.
To be someone's world.
He couldn't.
He wasn't even made to understand.
But Dean was.
Dean remembered everything.
From running down the stairs, his baby brother in his arms to going to hell for him, knowing he was worth it.
He remembered Sam's tears. Sam's smile. He remembered his long speechs, his puppy eyes. He remembered singing him to sleep, calming his fears, protecting him.
He remembered failing him. Twice.
And then he knew. He knew what to do.
And since he was a Winchester, Acceptance was gonna go his way.
"Cas", he said, emerging from his daze. "I need you to do something for me."
The angel turned to face him.
"There is salt in my bag. You know how hunters' funerals go, don't you?"
The angel nodded, confused.
"I need you to do it Cas."
He didn't wait for the angel's answer before kneeling in front of his brother.
"I need you to make sure we don't stay here. We don't become angry."
There were tears again on Dean's cheeks when he raised his brother's body against his chest.
"Dean, I don't...", the angel fought to find his words and Dean didn't let him finish. He raised his glock to his mouth and turned back to face Cas.
"I need you to be our friend Cas. One last time.", he said before kissing his brother's forehead. "Don't let hell or heaven disturb our peace."
The loud bang echoed in the cemetary before the angel realised what was happening.
And it was done.
They were together. Forever.
Cas would make sure of that.