Fic: Permanent Goodbye

Author : Thunderbirdie
Rating: T
Genre: Angst/tragedy
Words: 2,152
Disclaimer: Those boys are the gorgeous creation of Eric Kripke. WB owns the show. Me? I wish I could deal with crossroad demon asking for Dean.
Summary: There's only one Winchester left...

**********

A pair of brown eyes watched the scene around them wildly. Darkness and destruction melted into one, hell on earth. Yet, it was really quiet. Too quiet for Sam Winchester’s liking. A quietness that indicated something ugly was there. He knew it. There’s an uneasiness at the bottom of his stomach, accompanied by his strong sense, that helped to clarify that.

Twenty feet to his left, he saw Castiel rose with difficulty from the ground, looking like a walking wounded. Uriel was beside him, assisting him to get on his feet.

So many questions whirling inside of his brain.

First thing first, he told himself, what the hell happened?

Sam dug deeper into his clouded memory and gasped when one name made its presence known, Alistair.

The name brought back another conscience.

He’s hurt. His right shoulder hurt. Not to mention he had a whopper of a headache.

Then one more thought intruded his mind. Sam’s heart leapt to his throat when he realized what that was.

Dean.

Sam looked around nervously, trying to find his brother on among the pile of burnt rubbles.

The youngest Winchester let out a heartbreaking cry when his gaze fell upon a figure lying on the far side of the collapsed church.

“Dean!”, he yelled as he rushed to his only family left.

Castiel, startled by the young hunter’s scream, instinctively looked to where Sam’s heading. “No,” he whispered, upon seeing the heart wrenching scene taking place in front of him.

Sam dropped to his knees beside Dean’s inert body. Even with the mist from the threat of tears, he could see Dean’s battered body bleeding profusely from various wounds. It reminded him of the terror he had felt when he came upon the figure of his brother after the hellhound ripped him.

It’s not happening, Sam insisted. It’s not happening again.

With a shaky hand, he reached for Dean’s neck and felt for a pulse. He almost cried in relief when he’s welcomed by a weak, slow beat.

Sam shifted his brother’s upper body into his arm and shook him lightly, “Dean, c’mon, man. Wake up!”

**********

For Dean, everything was dark. Yet he felt white, hot, searing pain everywhere.

I’m dead, he thought. But even dead shouldn’t be this painful.

Then, a voice penetrated his fuzzy brain. So close, yet so far that he couldn’t grab it.

“Dea… an… Wake up!”

That’s Sammy. He’d always recognize it. The shake’s definitely his. That boy never lets me sleep in peace.

Whoa… But Sammy shouldn’t be here if I were dead. I’m not dead, he told himself, because there’s no way I let Sammy die.

Slowly, he took the rough journey to consciousness. It was brutal since with every consciousness he regained, he earned an excruciating pain in return. He struggled to open his heavy eyelids. A simple movement shouldn’t feel like I was about to move Mount Everest, he thought. When his eyes were finally opened a slit, he let out a painful groan.

Talking about road kill…

“Dean…”

Ouch, not so loud, Sammy.

“Dean!”

Annoying little brat.

“Hey, S’mmy…” Dean whispered as his brother’s worry face came into view.

Sam wore an ear-to-ear grin and enveloped the older Winchester in a tight hug, “Oh, God. Dean…”

Dean gasped when the pain exploded behind his eyes and traveled to rest of his body, “Not so tight…”

“Sorry,” Sam said as he loosened the hug.

Settled in his brother’s arm, Dean suddenly realized the heaviness in his chest, and the black spots dancing on the corner of his eyes.

Moment of truth.

“Hurt all ‘ver, Sam,” he murmured, his eyes started to feel heavy.

Sam patted Dean’s cheek gently to get him awake, “I know, Dean. I know. Hang a second, okay? We’ll get you to the hospital where you can be mother-henned by hot nurses. What do you think?” In his head, Sam’s running every possible scenario on how to get Dean a medical treatment from this middle-of-nowhere.

Dean weakly shook his head. No, you don’t understand.

“Sam, I hurt all over… S’bad… Can’t hold…”

“I know. How about a full pump of morphine? Sounds good…,” Sam’s voice trailed off when he realized the consequence of his brother’s words, “No, Dean. Oh, God. Please… No…”

No matter how much he wanted to deny it, he couldn’t. Not with Dean’s ragged form right in front his very own eyes. Sam knew with the blood lost, it’s a miracle Dean’s still alive, let alone talking. He had heard Dean’s shallow breathing. He had seen Dean’s half-crushed lower body. He didn’t have to look under Dean’s ripped shirt to see the torn flesh.

He studied Dean’s ashen face carefully.

Blood trailing down the older hunter’s bruised face. But it’s the eyes that frightened Sam most. The usually bright green eyes were dimmed, as if reflecting the life force that was slowly drained from the now fragile (Sam didn’t remembered if Dean had ever been fragile) form.
Dean’s body was an evidence of massive assault.

Sam Winchester didn’t need any more evidence that Dean Winchester, his brother, his only family left, his protector, his idol, and his reason to live, was dying.

Damn Alistair, Sam gritted his teeth. Damn him. Isn’t it enough the torture he inflicted upon Dean in hell? Now he takes Dean away from me again…

What am I thinking? Sam scolded himself. I’m not losing Dean. I’m not…

His silent plea was answered with disappointment as Dean’s body sagged against his. Eyes closed. Head dropping to his chest.

**********

Are you there, God? It’s me, Dean Winchester.

Oh, no. Don’t even think about it, Old Man! Wipe that proud grin from your face. I still don’t trust in you. I just need someone to talk to. Better talking to you than to myself.

It’s really quiet here. Where is it again? Oh, right. My, emm, conscience?

So, it means I’m not dead, right? Well, yet.

Hey, God. It hurts so bad. I can’t explain it. It’s almost like my stay in that crappy motel of yours. If you’re God, why do you have to create a place that nasty, huh? Guess it just emphasized the fact that you don’t actually exist. Then why am I talking to you? Never mind… No one can understand the twisted mind of Dean Winchester.

Can you take the pain away? I don’t wanna feel it anymore. It’s too much to bear. I mean, I don’t want to be so pussy but it does hurt like son of a b*tch. Whoops… Did you hear that? Sorry…

Why haven’t I seen the bright tunnel, huh? Please don’t tell me I have to stay in this merciless pain for any longer. I can’t. I don’t want to. It sucks.

Why?

…

Oh, yeah. Sammy.

Shit.

**********

“C’mon, Dean. You can’t die. Not now. Not like this. Not after all you’ve been through.”

“…”

“Dean! Wake up, you, jerk!”

“…”

“If you don’t open your eyes, I’ll tell everyone about how drunk you were when you mistakenly went to a gay bar and came out dressed like Dolly Parton!”

“If you dare to tell that to a single soul, you’re so dead, b*tch.”

“Oh, God. Thanks, heaven. Now stay awake, Dean. Stay with me.”

Dean coughed weakly and cringed when coppery taste liquid left his throat and leaking outside from the corner of his mouth.

Sam must be freaking out, he thought.

“Dean, you’re staying here, you hear me!” Sam told him firmly as Castiel, still leaning heavily on Uriel, knelt on the other side of Dean’s body. “Why do you have to make everything so difficult, huh?”

Dean laughed hoarsely, “’Cos I’m awesome…”

Sam noticed Dean’s breathing got more and more labored. It also seemed harder for him to maintain consciousness. “Dean, you’re staying, right?”

Dean’s eyelids drooped, before snapping opened again. He smiled sadly at his younger brother, “Guess this time’s permanent, little brother…”

Sam shook his head in denial, “Don’t, Dean. Please. What I’d do without you?”

“You’d survive. Just like what you’ve done b’fore…”

“No, it’s hard enough the first time. I’m not sure I can do it again, Dean. I need you.”

Dean was more than ready to be freed from the harsh suffering. But each time he closed his eyes, something’s always dragging him back.

“Please, Sam. For me…”

Sam closed his eyes, avoiding Dean’s pained expression. As long as he could remember, he was the selfish one. It’s always “Dean, drive me to the library”, “Dean, I want a new book”, “Dean, I don’t want to train today”. And Dean never said no.

Now he wanted his last wish.

Please, God. If you make this come true, I’ll never ask for anything else for the rest of my life. “Dean, I want you to live.”

The tears that had pooled on the corner of the older hunter’s eyes finally found their way trailing down his cheeks. It stung when they touched his cuts.

Don’t you think I want that to happen, Sammy? As much as I know you can take care of yourself, I NEED to make sure you’re okay.

Dean shook his head, unable to find his voice in his weakened condition.

“Sam,” Castiel called softly, as if talking to a little boy, “You’re hurting him?”

Sam looked up to meet Castiel’s compassionate eyes. And was that sympathy in Uriel’s?

“You have to save him,” Sam said firmly to the angel. “Tell God to save him!”

Sadly, Castiel sent him a negative gesture. “It’s out of my hand, Sam.”

Rage suddenly built inside of the young hunter. “You saved him from hell! Then why can’t you save him from death?!”

Putting one hand on Sam’s shoulder, Castiel told him, “I only act when my Father order me to.”

Sam swatted the angel’s hand away, “Screw you! I don’t need your help. Dean’s a fighter. He can pull through on his own.”

They don’t know his brother. They don’t know how pig-headed he is. How dare they give up on Dean after everything he’s done to save those innocent people.

The youngest Winchester’s resilience sparked admiration and exasperation from both angels.

Doesn’t this kid know what he’s doing right now?

They knew for sure that Dean would be taken care of well. Michael would be there for him, one of the greatest warrior life had to offer.

“Sam,” for the first time Uriel spoke. There’s a trace of gentleness accompanied by persistence that even Castiel didn’t know Uriel held. “We know Dean’s a fighter. That’s why we chose him in the first place. But there’s a limitation to human endurance. And now, he’s pushing himself to more than he can bear. He’s hurting, Sam. Real bad. And the reason he’s hanging on is you.”

Sam stared at Uriel with tears unashamedly running down, while his hands unconsciously tightened their grip on Dean.

Uriel sighed before continuing, “You are his lifeline, Sam. He can’t let go because you don’t let go. He won’t let go until you do.”
Castiel gently pried Sam’s hand from around Dean. “It’s not fair for him, Sam. Think of every sacrifices he had made in his life for you. For this once, you’re the one who need to make that sacrifice for him.

“Sam…” Dean croaked, his voice barely a whisper.

“Oh, God. Dean…” Sam buried his face in Dean’s hair and choked from cry of a beast, filled with anger, sadness, and desperation. He hated being in this position. He didn’t want to let Dean go. But he couldn’t live with the fact that he’s causing his brother so much pain while in his entire life Dean had been the one who took that pain away from him.

“S-sam, please…”

“I don’t know what to do.”

“Of course you do, smart-ass. You always do.”

Has Dean even sounded that fragile?

Sam looked at Dean’s pleading eyes. He gulped heavily before telling his brother, “I love you, big brother. I can’t say enough thank you for what you’ve done for me.” He struggled to put affection in every word.

Dean’s blue-tinged lips twitched upward, as if he wanted to smile but simply couldn’t find the energy to do so. He knew he was past speaking, but he had – no, needed – to tell Sam. “I love you, too, Sammy.”

Sam looked at the two angels who both nodded their heads.

There’s no use to avoid the unavoidable.

He locked eyes with Dean and placed his right palm on Dean’s cheek. Then, he started to speak ever so gently, “It’s okay, Dean. You can let go.”

He burst into new tears for he knew what’s going to happen next.

Dean closed his eyes, but opened them again in a split second. He had one more unfinished business. He looked at Sam.

Does he know what I want?

Sam smiled fondly, “I’ll survive, Dean”

He knew.

**********


A/N: Nggak akan, deh, saya nulis yang begini lagi. Nggak tahan...