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My first attempt at fic in the Supernatural fandom.


It wasn't a monster that got to them first. No, that’d be too climatic, too their-version-of-normal. Instead, he was attacked inside an open-all-night gas station by an robber who was a bit too twitchy with his gun and didn’t take too kindly to him moving (or the cashier pressing the panic button). It was fucking joke; a well-trained hunter dying by the hands of a mere person who needed the money to fund his meth habit, but instead there was no punch line. The other hunter rushed to his side (after shooting the son of a bitch) babbling about it’s not that bad, it’ll patch up fine, they’ll be on the road soon. “No,no,no! Don’t you die on me,” he screamed, pleading. The other looked up, smiled, and stated “I think it’s a bit too late for me, Dean.” Horror, is what Dean felt, when checking for a pulse and finding none. Too far from a crossroads, the police sirens too close, he grabbed the robber’s gun and…

It was July 4, 1996, hot and dark, but instead of awaking to a thirteen year old, Dean awoke to Sam that just died in his arms.

“This is heaven”
“Yes, Dean, it is.”

The paramedics called Sam Winchester’s death at 2:44 am and his brother Dean Winchester’s death at 2:45 am. One by murder, the other by a self-inflicted gunshot wound.


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November 2012

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