And I Hope That You'll Remember Me (SPN Fanfic)

Dear Agony

It was a few days later before Alex was over her heat. However, since it was Friday, Dean let her stay home. Besides, Alex was slightly worried about him. He had been acting strange the past couple days.

She rolled out of bed, looking at the clock. It was almost 8am. She sighed, walking down the hall, feet silent on the wooden floor. Downstairs, Dean was sitting in the kitchen, cleaning his Colt. Alex narrowed her eyes. "What are you doing?"

Dean jumped, looking up, and Alex was shocked by his tear-stained face. She sat down next to him, wings pinned tightly against her back in worry. "Dean," she said slowly. "What's going on?"

"Nothing, nothing." Dean shook her off. "I'm just cleaning my gun, okay? Can't I do that?"

"Where are Ben and Lisa?" Alex was slightly taken aback by his coldness.

"At school. At work," he grumbled, returning his gaze to his work.

"What's wrong?"

Dean glanced up at the sudden softness in her voice, but quickly lowered his eyes. "Nothing."

"That's a lie." When Dean didn't respond, Alex sighed. "Is it Sam?"

Dean said nothing, and Alex just shook her head. "It's going to be okay." She reached out with her wing, gently brushing his shoulder before remembering the gesture was unnoticed by the human.

"It's not going to be okay!" Dean snapped. He snapped the magazine into his gun before stomping out of the room. Alex hesitated, but then hurriedly followed. Dean was in the living room, sitting on the couch, staring at the gun. He cocked it, studying it carefully.

"Dean." Alex walked over to him, reaching for the gun. He pulled it away. "Dean," Alex repeated, sharper this time. "Give me the gun."

"Why?" Dean looked up, eyes watering. "Why should I?"

"Dean, give me the gun before you do something stupid. Please." Panic tugged at Alex's chest.

"Sam's gone, Alex."

"Killing yourself isn't going to bring him back."

Dean just shook his head. "I-I can't do this." He looked up at Alex, eyes desperate and wide. "I can't keep living like everything's okay. Because it's not. I'm not strong enough, Pip." He turned the gun, studying it from all angles. "Please. Just leave."

"No." Alex was beginning to get desperate. "Dean. Stop. Please. Don't do this. I won't let you. Just give me the gun. We can work this out, okay?" Dean didn't respond. "Dean, think about this. What--what is Sam comes back, hmm? What if, by some strange miracle, Sam comes back, and he finds you here dead?"

"He won't come back." Dean fiddled with the safety, eyes distant and unfocused.

Alex knelt down beside him. "You don't know that. Dean, please. If not about Sam, what about me? Me, Bobby, Castiel? We're your family, and we've already lost you once. I don't want to lose you again."

"You don't understand, Alex." Dean finally looked up, eyes locking with hers. "I can't live without Sammy. I mean, I could keep going without you, or Bobby, or even Cas, but not Sam."

"I know how you're feeling, Dean. Sam was my family too. You're not the only one hurt by his death," Alex snapped. "Dean, right now you're the only person I have left. Cas is far off in heaven, I haven't talked to Bobby in months. What the hell am I suppose to do if I lose you too?"

"You'll be fine."

Filled with another wave of panic, Alex suddenly reached up, placing two fingers on his forehead. She focused on her grace. Sleep, she willed him. Dean collapsed, and Alex hurriedly checked his pulse. Still there. She let out a sigh of relief before clearing the gun, hiding it deep under the couch. She shoved the magazine into her pocket and stood up, only to find her legs were shaking. She grabbed her cellphone from out of her pocket, dialing a number. "Bobby?"