Leaf on the Wind
He thinks of all the things he would have said, jokes he might have made if they had come here together. He imagines his brother silhouetted in kindly golden tones thrown from the rocks in the afternoon sun. He wonders if they will meet at a place like this, when they meet again.
He wonders if either of them will know. He hopes not.
Two days ago Sam Winchester walked into the panic room. When the door opened, the Morning Star walked out.
Dean’s face tilts toward the canyon one last time as Michael stirs inside. His heart beats a maddeningly steady rhythm and his stomach is eerily settled, his body refusing to give an outlet to the panic in his soul.
It’s time, Dean.
Michael steps to the edge, unfurling his wings slowly, and Dean feels himself slipping down into the void, sobbingly grateful that at least he won’t be able to see. The Western light catches the blood red waters of the Colorado River, and then everything goes black.
He wonders if either of them will know. He hopes not.
Two days ago Sam Winchester walked into the panic room. When the door opened, the Morning Star walked out.
Dean’s face tilts toward the canyon one last time as Michael stirs inside. His heart beats a maddeningly steady rhythm and his stomach is eerily settled, his body refusing to give an outlet to the panic in his soul.
It’s time, Dean.
Michael steps to the edge, unfurling his wings slowly, and Dean feels himself slipping down into the void, sobbingly grateful that at least he won’t be able to see. The Western light catches the blood red waters of the Colorado River, and then everything goes black.