Be You Afraid, For We Fear Not.


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As he felt the last remnants of consciousness slipping away, his thoughts were for the pain and loss that his death would cause to his brother; not just the normal distress and grief that all humans felt at the loss of a loved one, but a searing agony as if a part of one's soul had been ripped away, a sensation which both he and Dean had experienced on more than one occasion.

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He didn't know where he his soul would find itself a few short seconds hence, be it the angels' realm or the diabolic one, nor did he care.

He had experienced both, Heaven winning out over Hell mostly because of the lack of torture; at least physical kind, but from his and Dean's short visit to Heaven, he was ready to bet that it had its snake in the grass too.

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But even in Hell where torture, torture and more torture was the strict timetable that that was kept up each and every day, he wouldn't be going in as the naïve soul that he had once been.

No, no! He was a veteran of Hell now, and this time he was fully aware of what he could expect for a hundred and eighty years in the company of the big Kahuna Lucifer himself gave one a little bit of experience.

He found it a little ironic to think that from normal Hell he would be able to see into the Cage. Perhaps he could pay Lucifer a little visit from outside the bars; now wouldn't that be one for the books!

This time the after-life wouldn't find itself with a scared and terrorised Sam Winchester. This time they would rue the day that they had meddled with him and Dean, especially Dean.

The love for his brother filled his last seconds until there was no more oxygen available to irrigate his brain, and darkness overcame him.

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He was no longer conscious when the claws that had been squeezing the last scraps of life from him relaxed their grip on his throat, nor was he

witness to the furious descent of his denim-clad brother, wielding a blood-tipped spear like some avenging angel, skewering the creature unerringly

through the heart with the venom of a savage predator, watching unflinchingly as it fell to the ground and released its hold on his younger brother's neck.

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Dean kicked the beast to the side with his booted feet and threw himself down next Sam, who had slid to the barren ground in an ungainly heap.

His fingers scrabbled to feel the for the hopeful beat of life in his brother's neck and he sighed in relief as it pulsed weakly below his fingers. He had gotten here in time once again. His brother wouldn't be taken from him today.

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Dean settled his own body behind Sam's pulling him up to a sitting position and taking his weight on his own chest, his brother's shaggy head propped up against his left shoulder. He would hang on tight to him until he recovered; better to be cushioned by his body than stretched out on the cold stony earth.

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He reflected on just how many times the one had thought the other dead. He should have kept a tally just for curiosity, but really in the end it didn't matter.

They had accepted their fate now, no longer pining for what they could never have, but thankful for each other, having understood it was all they really needed or wanted.

The one gave the other the strength to go on; and go on they would until one stopped, then the other would stop too. It had been tacitly agreed .

They wouldn't go down easily but by God, whoever got to count the Winchesters amongst their residents had better take care!

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If Hell had the dominion over their souls and evolved them into demons with its continual torture, then two demonic Winchester brothers would wreck

havoc on those who had hurt them, and if they happened to get the cushier lodgings in Heaven then the place might be all the better for a little

cleaning out and re-furbishing.

The dick-angels who populated it were petty and stupid and maybe he and Sam could start a little Civil war of their own.

In either case somebody was going to rue the day they had tampered with them. They feared no demons or angels now. The fates had made a big mistake trifling with the Winchesters.

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"Dean," a weak voice whispered, his brother's head moving feebly against his shoulder. " Am I dead?"

"No way, Doofus," Dean replied softly, rubbing his brother's arms and repeating the words from the show they had been watching last night on the TV. "Today is not a good day to die!" he proclaimed in his best glowering warrior's voice.

"Dude, From Batman to Klingon," Sam baited, his voice croaking, relieved to find himself in the reassuring grip of Dean's arms..

"Hey, you know me, Sammy. Always up for new experiences!"

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XXX The enD XXX