Brothers Keep Her

In the Night

It's quiet when you wake up, and your heart is heavy. Sam breathes steadily beside you in the dark, and you realize you've fallen asleep in his room. The TV screen is black with a pop-up window asking whether you're still watching.

You sit up and run your fingers through your hair. You're not as sad for Jonah, knowing what you know now. You know where he's going, once the Reapers collect him. You know where they all go, each individual soul, or where they should go, anyway. You gaze at Sam; he looks so peaceful. There is no torment on his face, no race against the clock to find answers to whatever problem faces him today. He's been through more than anyone could ever imagine, yet he keeps going. And he'd do it all over again. When will you rest, Sam? you wonder. Even as Death, you don't know when the Winchesters' time will come. They've both died so many times before, but they have business here. And they're not done. So you let his tormented soul sleep. You let him sleep because these precious moments of peace are so few and far between for Sam and Dean.

You slip out of bed, careful not to disturb him. You switch off the TV and turn to look at him one last time. You remember the way you felt when he walked into your coffee shop that afternoon, and how your heart skipped a few beats when you realized he was in the library at the same time you were. A tear brims your eye when you think about the way he leapt to your rescue when your clumsiness nearly sent you face-first down the library stairs. You wipe the tear away. You'll never forget the way you felt waking up beside him, or the way he made sure you felt safe in the middle of all the chaos.

You find your shoes under his bed. Your steps are quiet, padded by your socks as you move down the hall to your room. You stop briefly by Dean's door and place your hand against the wood, debating whether you should see him one last time. Part of you is drawn to him, even though you heard him tell Sam it was only the alcohol. The kiss wasn't real to him, no matter how real it may have been to you. No, don't open the door. Don't go in.

You pack everything you brought with you in your denim duffle bag. You don't even know if you'll need it. For all you know, you'll never have to brush your teeth again. A tear escapes, because you don't want to leave. You want to stay with Sam and Dean. But how? How could anyone love Death? 

They have work to do, and you'd only be in their way. This is what you must do.

Tiptoeing through the dark, tranquil bunker one last time, you scratch a note on a piece of paper. Thank you, you think, though they won't hear it.

You step into the night air and close the door gently behind you. You don't want a single sound to stir the boys from their sleep. You don't need their protection anymore. You're not afraid. The demon who killed the professor is gone, and the others... they were only trying to reach you in the only ways they knew how. It wasn't their fault you didn't understand.