Title: What's Dead
Disclaimer: not my characters; just for fun.
Warnings: assuming Dean doesn't get out of the deal, in the future.
Point of view: first
You did your best, Dean… and that's all anyone can ask.
No, son, don't be like that—I'm your friend, the only one you got down here. Lots of folks hate you, you know. Want your blood, your tears… want to break you into thousands of pretty, shiny pieces. I'm the only thing holdin' you together, m'boy.
Think about that, Dean. Your whole life, you've wanted me dead. You've hunted me and mine, killed my children. Well, you finally got it—I'm dead, Dean. And now, here you are. With me.
Irony's a bitch, huh?
Dean, you did everything you could. Doesn't knowing that make you feel better? But, Sammy, well… he's always been mine. Ever since sweet little Mary conceived him, Dean. So, you never had a chance. Not a one.
Don't use that language on me, son. I'm not a liar. Ask anyone.
You sold your soul to save your brother, but he was in Heaven, Dean. He hadn't killed a human, yet. Or rather, one he felt no guilt for. That's the determining factor, m'boy. Whether you kill someone or not, it doesn't matter. You have to regret it—that lets you through them nice, pearly gates.
Madison got him in the gates. Sweet girl.
Jake, though… he's the one that damned your baby brother's soul. Sammy killed him, and Sammy feels no guilt. At all.
You should have let him stay dead. But, then, you've always put family before anyone.
I'll let you out, after. That'll make you feel better, right? I'll give you back to Sammy. Let you be his toy in the new world. And a world it'll be… nice and toasty. Pretty flames, billowing up to the sky, smoke blocking out the sun… paradise.
He was in Heaven, Dean. Ah… what's dead, son.