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"this is it. this is how i go out."
Dean Winchester remembers thinking, only minutes prior and yet, he still desperately searches the darkened barn frantically, finding it reminds him of a similar one from twelve years prior. It reminds Dean of Him. Cas. Castiel. An angel of the Lord, ordered to fly down to Hell, to retrieve his soul, and resurrect him. Of course, he'd later find out that was only to have him literally go face to face, piloted by the Archangel Michael, against Lucifer who'd be wearing his baby brother to the prom. He stifled a chuckle, still somehow able to take joy in how chaotic his life had been.
In his final moments, Dean thinks about Cas and Sam and Jack and all of the insanity they'd been through over the years and he finds peace in them, before moving his hand over his body and feeling the sharp rebar poking through his flannel shirt, and is instantly pulled back into this moment. He watches Sam wander around the barn, thinking and agonising over what he can do to save his baby brother the pain of losing him, as tears threaten to spill from his eyes, but before he can stop himself, Dean feels his mouth drop open and Sam moves closer to where his brother is standing. Dean struggles to take in a breath.
"I did not think this would be the day, but it is. It is, and that's okay."
The words echo in the youngest Winchester's mind. Sam watches his brother trying to fight, trying to do the one thing he has always been able to do, but he's failing. Dean's failing, and Sam wants nothing more than to scream into the sky, to demand help from SOMEONE! ANYONE! BECAUSE THIS ISN'T FAIR!. None of this... is fair. In a move that shocks both of the brothers, Sam drops to his knees, clasps his hands together, and prays.
"Sammy? Sam, what are you doing?"
Sam ignores him, and stares into Dean's eyes with urgency, seeing the pool of blood widen on his shirt, and the colour quickly draining from his skin. He refuses to lose anyone else and if his brother can't fight, he is sure as hell gonna do it for him.
"PLEASE! CAN ANYONE HEAR ME?! MY BROTHER DEAN WINCHESTER IS DYING AND I CAN'T LOSE HIM AGAIN! PLEASE!... JACK! JACK, IF YOU CAN HEAR ME PLEASE SAVE HIM!"
Sam pleads with the empty air surrounding him and his brother, who struggled to stay standing, becoming weaker and weaker with each passing second. He lets out a small sigh.
"It's over, Sam."
"please..."
Dean watches his baby brother, lay his head against the cold muddy floor of the barn. He wants nothing more in this moment than to wrap him tightly in a bear hug and to see that stupidly huge grin appear on his face again and to hear that ridiculous laugh of his, which hurts him more than any crappy old piece of rebar, or monster ever could. Dean wheezes, struggling to breathe.
"No one is coming."
The barn doors suddenly fly open, startling both of the brothers as they are blinded by bright lights. Two figures walk forward slowly but with purpose. They mirror each other's movements almost perfectly and to a normal observer, they'd seem as if they were one and the same but as they get closer to the Winchesters, they can clearly see that the second figure was slightly smaller, younger and more spry than the other.
Sam's mouth hangs open in disbelief. Dean, no longer strong enough to fight off a smile, is smiling brightly while still visibly in pain... and they both watch with tearful eyes as the light vanishes leaving the two figures fully viewable in the dusk of the night. There was no mistaking who they were now, no doubt that they were stood directly in front of the brothers, in a moment so completely devoid of hope which in turn had transformed into an answered prayer.
Dean's weak lips trembled as words tumbled almost silently from his mouth. A name. A name he'd memorised, and taken joy in being able to say once more.
"Cas..."
A smile on his lips but sadness in his eyes. His heart beat frantically in his chest as the figure spoke back to him.
"Hello, Dean."