Reckless [Dean Winchester]

Epilogue

Epilogue

The first thing I realize is that I'm not in any pain. I don't feel the sharp claws tearing into my body nor do I feel the awful breath suffocating me. It has to be over. I have to be dead.

I'm not sure what to expect. What does Heaven look like, anyway?

But I'm not going to Heaven; I'm going to Hell. Crowley is sending me down to Hell with him.

Maybe I don't want to open my eyes. Maybe when I open them, I'll be feet underground, with Hellfire and deathly hot temperatures. Maybe I'll be locked in a cage without food or water. I've glimpsed Hell before, so I kind of know what to expect.

I force my eyes open, and I'm met with a dark ceiling. Rain patters above my head. I slowly sit up, regulate my breathing. This can't be Hell, there's just no way. I'm lying in the middle of a hallway. Like I'm in some creepy mansion. Wait...

A bad feeling settles in the pit of my stomach. This might just be Hell. Crowley must want me to watch my death a thousand times over. Me dying in my...my old home. But he had to have been wrong about that. He had to have.

I get to my feet and see that I'm scratch-free. No blood, no guts hanging out from my stomach, no torn clothing. It's like I was never harmed to begin with. My hands begin to shake, and I tuck them under my arms. I'm not cold, just frightened. What's my next step?

"Max?"

I spin around and instead feel dread rather than joy. Flashlight and gun in hand, Dean is sauntering down the hall. But his eyes aren't focused on me. He's looking everywhere else but at me.

"Dean." His name barely gets out of my mouth. I'm waiting for the flashlight to don on me, for Dean to see me. Maybe he and Sam can see ghosts, if that's what I am. I know I'm not alive; nobody can survive Hellhounds.

I'm rattled when Dean passes right through me. I let out a sob. My hands fall to my sides, and I'm watching him disappear down the hall. This is real time, I realize. I'm not in Hell, or maybe I am. Maybe I am in Hell, I don't know. Nobody gave me directions.

I bring my legs to follow Dean down the hall. Where's Sam? Dean breaks open the doors, briefly disappearing into each until he comes back out, looking more desperate and upset with every empty room. I follow him until I spot the door that's wide open.

My heart sinks. I stop, and Dean stops not long after. He's seeing it. I see the gun and flashlight lower, and I see him change.

"Damn it," he hisses before barreling through the entranceway. I bring myself into the threshold and see the bloody aftermath from afar.

Dean slowly moves in on my mangled body. I want to vomit, I really do. Can ghosts vomit? I feel the tears down my cheeks as Dean drops to his knees beside me—my body, I mean. He doesn't say anything, his mouth is slightly agape and he just stares.

I don't want to watch, yet I do, for some sick reason.

"Are you happy, now?" I shout to no one. "You got me, Crowley! You won! Just get me to Hell already!"

"Oh, now you're eager to leave?" comes the English voice.

I sidestep, my eyes wide. He's right here. I should beat the shit out of him for keeping me here in real time. "W-why?" I sputter, feeling my chest tighten. "Why am I not in Hell?"