Never The End

By: Karen B.

Summary: Warning. Season 9. Spoilers for 9X23 Season Finale…a short recap and missing scenes.

Disclaimer: Not the owner! (Some dialogue taken from the actual show)

AN: Rock on Supernatural! Phenomenal!


"Nooooo!" Sam shrieked paralyzed with fear, eyes locked on Dean's.

No! No! God! No!

His heart was pounding, blasting in his ears. He'd heard the knife plunge into his brother – a wet ripping, slurping sound. Saw the sickly spray of blood.

Dean was calling to him with his eyes, that and the monstrous power of grief eating its way down to his feet, both served to surge Sam forward. He leapt up and over some sort of cement riser, his arms flailing outward as he tried to keep balance on the slick, yellow surface, his breath catching in his throat.

It felt like forever by the time he landed with force next to Dean. Sam was fully aware of Metatron's presences, but he didn't give a damn. "Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey," he murmured, and with badly shaking hands pulled Dean up off the floor and leaned him against the wall.

Sam drew back, those same shaking hands hovering, unsure of what to do.

This was bad. Massively bad. Where to touch…where to touch?

Blood dribbled from Dean's lips as he looked right at Sam with unblinking eyes, normal green already hazing over.

He's dying. Already gone.

His big brother just didn't know it yet. Dean's lion-sized heart was forever fighting, fighting for every single beat.

Sam jolted at the sound of thunder crashing as it zapped him out of the living nightmare, kick starting his own lion-sized heart into fighting action.

Metatron! Protect Dean. Anyway he had to.

Sam was on his feet like lightning, his own angel blade in hand. It wouldn't kill Metatron or bring revenge, but maybe he could stave him off temporarily. Get Dean to safety. Sam lashed out with all he had.

There came another clap of thunder and Sam stumbled forward, slicing threw nothing but air.

Metatron was gone.

A cry of pain burst from Dean, and Sam stowed the blade, dropping right back to his brother's side.

"Sammy, you got to get out of here," Dean rasped hoarsely.

"Shh. Shh. Shh." Sam hushed, frantically fumbling through his pockets, trembling fingers barely responding.

"Before he comes back," Dean added weakly.

"Shut up, shut up," Sam stuttered, finally finding what he was looking for. He swiftly folded the bandana into a square. "Just save your energy, alright?" he breathed trying to quill his panic at the amount of blood pouring out the single hole in Dean's chest as he positioned the makeshift bandage over the wound.

"Oh, man," a desolate moan left Dean's lips, rocking his head back and forth in pain.

Sam carefully lifted Dean's wrist trying to ignore the way his pulse fluttered as he placed his brother's hand over the material.

"We'll stop the bleeding," Sam assured swallowing down the rush of bile in his throat. "We'll –We'll get you to a doctor or— or I'll find a spell," his panic was rising higher and higher. He pressed his hand over Dean's hand for added pressure and watched in horror as his brother's blood squished up between his fingers. "You're gonna be okay," he soothed, stifling his own cry of self-pain.

"Listen to me," Dean's voice turned calm and reassuring. "It's better this way." Wetness gurgled at the back of his throat.

"What?" Shock-stricken, Sam shook his head at Dean.

"The mark," Dean struggled for air. "It's making me into something I don't want to be. Ahhh," he whimpered and his body shuddered.

Unshed tears burned in Sam's eyes. He knew what Dean was asking. He was asking Sam to go on without him. To live his life…to let him go. The way Sam said he would.

Sam's whole body went cold at the thought. How the hell did he ever think he could pull that one off?

"Don't worry about the mark," Sam breathed through his terror. "We'll figure out the mark later." No way was he losing his brother…the only thing that mattered to him in this fucked up world. "Just hold on, okay?" Sam wrapped an arm around Dean and maneuvered him up to his feet. "Get you some help," he said, moving them along.

Goosebumps rose up on Sam's skin as they staggered to and fro. Not from cold, but from fear.

Dean was barely able to shuffle his feet, coughing up blood and about to keel over. Sam fought to keep his brother going, supporting him as much as he could. They didn't have much time.

With each step Sam ended up taking on more and more of Dean's weight.

"Sammy," Dean gagged.

"Don't," Sam panted from the exertion. "Just breathe, breathe. You're doing good, really great, Dean." Sam grimaced, continuing to keep his hand pressed hard over Dean's. It was awkward to move like that, but imperative. Dean was too weak to keep up the pressure alone. Even with Sam's extra-strong hold blood continued to pulse out of the blade's hole, spilling hot and sticky over Sam's hand.

They tripped over a board and Dean let out a loud cry as his legs went out from under him. "D-don't. Don't you do that to me, Dean." Sam urgently tugged Dean back up. "Don't you dare th-think about it, man," Sam growled, biting into his lower lip in fear.

Dean could only nod, his heart barely sustaining him, the air thin, blood rattling in his chest, filling up his lungs and drowning him. Sam's hand bore down harder still, his veins popping and turning blue.

"Ah-ha-ha," Dean quaked from the pain.

"Easy now, easy. Little more…just a little more, big brother," Sam begged, heading them around a stacked pile of sheet metal.

Dean's head lolled and he pitched to the left, nearly losing both their balance.

"No, no," Sam practically screamed, swiftly compensating and tugging the mortally injured man closer. "Dean. Don't be a jerk. No sleeping yet." he commanded in as strong a voice as he could muster.

"C-can't haa..have that –" Dean picked his head up, smiling weakly at Sam. "Bitch."

Sam couldn't help but notice the way Dean's eyes floated to the back of his head then down again, the rhythm of his breathing sporadic and soggy sounding. "Just help me out," Sam pleaded, foot kicking a large bucket out of their way, the clatter doing nothing to mask the banging of his heart slamming against his ribs.

Sam's legs felt like rubber from the extra weight of trying to hold Dean up. They weren't moving fast enough. Dean was losing ground. Too much time had gone by. Too much blood lost. Too far away from help. Dean wasn't going to make it. The dreaded words were pure horror that hacked like barbed wire at Sam's gut. Still, he kept them moving.

They trudged along a few more minutes until Dean balked at another stab of pain. "What happened to you being okay with this?" Dean baited, obviously trying to distract them both from the tension and horror.

"I lied," Sam knowingly took the bait – hook, line, and sinker.

"Ain't that a bitch," Dean joked sarcastically.

They staggered three more paces, when Dean stopped unable to go another step – drained – literally.

"Sam," Dean grunted. "Hold up. Hold up," he muttered, breathing shakily.

"Damn it," Sam whispered under his breath, still struggling to move Dean along.

Don't stop. Don't stop. Please don't stop. But he couldn't keep his deteriorating brother up any longer. Sam would have given anything to keep them moving, but Dean had become increasingly heavy. He listed sideways thumping against a stack of crates with an anguished grunt.

Sam hissed in response to his brother's pain, lowering Dean to sit and crouching down before him, regrettably allowing them the timeout.

Dean kept a hand on Sam's shoulder, taking in a few shallow gasps and swallowing down bloody saliva as he gazed off briefly, seemingly in deep thought. He managed a crinkle of a smile, and then turned to look at Sam.

"I gotta say something to you." He raised his fisted hand and thumped it back down onto Sam's shoulder– a show of seriousness. Sammy! Pay attention.

"What?" Sam whispered, staring vigilantly up into his brother's glazed eyes.

Dean leaned forward just a little bit closer to Sam. "I'm proud of us." He wasted no time in saying, tiny puffs of air escaping him as he reached up and palm- slapped the side of Sam's face. I friggin' mean it, dude! I love you, man.

They exchanged a significant look, words between them not necessary to say all that they needed to say. Soul mates didn't have to be husbands and wives or children. Soul mates could be anyone. Soul mates could be brothers.

Blood dripped into Dean's eyes and they fluttered, his hand slipping away from Sam as he fell forward.

Sam quickly rose up from his hunched position to catch his brother against his shoulder. "No-no- hey- hey- hey." He gently eased Dean upward. "Hey, hey, hey, wake up, buddy." Sam gasped when he saw his brother's lax face. "Dean?"

Dean's eyes were closed, mouth partially open, blood coating his lip.

"Dean," Sam called again, giving a slight jostle.

Dean's head wobbled on his neck, and Sam could no longer hear the rattling gasps for breath.

Sam's panic rose. "Dean!" he cried out through gritted teeth, his voice echoing in the silence.

He stared a half-second longer, knowing, but not wanting to accept.

And then it all hit him like a Mack truck. Sam began to shake wildly, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down in his throat, cutting like a razor, his vision blurring with tears. No! He tugged Dean to him roughly, his brother flopping lifeless and weighty against him. Even so, Sam kept his hand over the chest wound, still trying to stop the flow of blood – a flow that had already stopped – tapped out.

Sam squeezed his eyes shut, crying whole bodily –wrecked.

He pressed Dean flat to him, burying his face in his brother's blood splattered hair. His heart began to beat faster, like a wild rabbit caught in a steel trap, his breath puffing in and out like a friggin' hurricane. Little by-little his soul leaked out his body as images of their lives together… as brothers – not partners – steamrolled over him.

Times of love and drunkenness, laugher and anger, sacrifice and loss, pranks and tender care. Sam's heart felt as though someone were squeezing the life out of it, the walls around him huffing in and out with each intake of air.

"No, no, no. Dean! I can't. No. Please, no. D-e-e-e—a-a-a-n," Sam stammered, shoulders hitching on each letter. His heart rang in his ears like a giant gong – clear and crushing.

Everything started to turn black. He was hyperventilating and couldn't breathe. He shut his eyes tighter still, his face turning red, abnormally huge, hot tears scorching down his cheeks.

He didn't know how long he'd stayed that way. But Dean was getting cold, so it had to have been a while. Yet, he still couldn't budge. But then he heard his brother's dying words suddenly whisper their way in through the darkness.

'I'm proud of us.'

The words played over and over in Sam's head, quieting his heart and helping him to catch his breath.

Finally snapping his eyes open, Sam shifted Dean, awkwardly gathering him in and bringing his brother's body up with him as he got to his feet.

Sam cradled Dean carefully, shaking under the full weight, wobbling off his feet, and feeling as though he might faint from the lack of oxygen and the smell of Dean's blood. He felt so weak. And his chest burned. As if he was the one run through with a blade. But none of that mattered. He had to carry his brother's body back to the Impala, so she could carry them home.

He took one step forward, swayed, and then took another, and another. 'Baby steps' as Dean always liked to call them.

Dean's head and limbs dangled freely toward the floor, swinging about aimlessly as they went – bloody and boneless.

Still sobbing like a small, lost boy, Sam forced his legs to keep moving, forced himself to keep his red-rimmed, blurry eyes open. He wanted to die right there too, but he kept moving. Dean wouldn't be proud of that.

He'd fix this. Sam would fix this.



This wasn't supposed to happen.

This wasn't happening.

Their bond was a connection greater than either of them ever could understand. For all their fights and lies and mistrust and bullshit that creation brought upon them, it could and never would break the solemn, unspoken oath of two brothers. An oath to stand rock solid beside each other and face a realm that was stronger than them. It was always them against the world…hell... them against the universe.

No matter how many times he tried to lie to Dean and himself, it never was true. He would do everything and anything in his power and beyond to save Dean. To keep them together…the way his big brother had done for him.

No matter.

Always and without end!

Never the end!