Finale

My Sammy

A/N: This story is quite darker than my others and it has themes that people may find distressing so be warned. Originally Starlynn (My American friend) wrote a small paragraph that had the same theme as this and I was like "You made me have feels, REVENGE!" And then this spawned.

Remember, reader digression, dark and sensitive theme.

Dean kept driving, he didn't know where he was going, he didn't care where he was going, he just had to go.
"Almost there, right, Sammy?" Dean said.
No answer.
Dean pressed his foot on the pedal and sped up, the alcohol in his system impairing his judgement, but nothing would happen to Baby, not whilst Sammy was in her.

Dean pulled up in a small clearing, he had left the road about a mile back and now the Impalas hood was covered in old leaves and mud from the morning rain.
At least, Dean was sure it had been morning, nights and days had melded into one... Dean hadn't slept in days.
He sighed and rested his head back onto the leather seat, his eyes growing heavy.
He smiled for a second before it melted into sadness.

Dean was sat in the Impala.
Where music used to blare an uncomfortable silence had long since settled. Dean looked over into the shotgun seat beside him, no one sat there. It had been days since he'd lost Sam, long long days. Dean cracked open a bottle of whiskey before draining half of it, he was already drunk but the numbness hadn't spread far enough.
"Dammit, Sammy." He whispered hoping someone would finally answer, though for the past few times he'd tried, no one ever did. Dean waited for a couple minutes before getting out, leaning against Baby and cocking his gun. What was there to live for? His future was a future watching Sam grow up, and that was gone...
Click.
Bang.
Thump.
He always wanted to die with a gun in his hand.

A/N: Opinions? Too dark? Constructive criticism? Please comment below!
I will be updating one of my other stories tonight, so keep an eye out, dont know which one yet...

Keep a look out!
Stay safe and happy readers!

Cas,