Imagine #98: COMWS

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Imagine: I ain't giving shit away 😘.

Age: 16

This ones super short but I'm just trying to get to the hundredth chapter cause I'm hella excited. I've already chosen the winner. So I apologize for this one being short.

Btw N/N means nickname.

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     "Sam! Dean!" She screamed as she sent her angel blade flying into Lucifer's gut, watching him die almost in slow motion. She had finally done the thing she'd spent the last two years of her life trying to accomplish, but she couldn't even celebrate it. Not when her brothers were dying right next to her.

     She skidded to her knees beside them, her angel blade falling from her grasp as she pressed a hand to Sam's stomach and a hand to Dean's, trying to stop the fatal flows of their blood as it fled their bodies. "No! We did it! He's dead, you can't do this!"

     "(N/N), it's no use," Dean panted, struggling to lift his head enough to look at her before allowing it to drop to the concrete once more. He looked to his little brother and instinctively both their hands came up to grip the other's sleeve, and for a brief moment they shared their grief while their sister wept above them.

     "No, please, shut up. You can't give up, we don't give up," She said desperately, tears causing her vision to blur as her head pounded and the lump in her throat threatened to choke her, "we're Winchesters. Winchesters don't give up for anything."

     "Y/n--" Sam breathed painfully.

     "Please," She interrupted, her voice cracking in such a way that it broke both brother's heart like they were nothing more than sheets of thin ice, "please. There has to be something I can do. I'll take you to Bobby, I'll pray for Cas, just stay with me."

     "We won't last," Dean murmured, tears rolling down his cheeks freely, "I'm so sorry."

     "No," She whispered, "you promised you'd watch me grow up. You promised to share my first drink. You promised you'd lead me all the way to my grave. Please. You promised."

     Sam and Dean had to look away then, sobs racking their bodies weakly as they shared one last look at each other. One last look at their tear-stained, flushed faces.

     "Y/n, will you sing for us?" Sam asked suddenly, his voice hitched and breathy as he looked back at his sister. She smiled then, giving a tearful chuckle as she cupped both their cheeks in her hands and nodded.

     There was a moment of silence as she gave a hard swallow followed by a large sniff before she began in a shaky, wavering voice, and suddenly it became the most beautiful thing either brother had ever heard.

     "Carry on my wayward son," She sang, her voice high-pitched and soft, cracking and breaking desperately.

     She didn't even realize she'd changed the lyrics until after she'd sung them, a smile crossing her features. "There is peace, cause now you're done."

     She ran her fingers through Dean's hair and stroked Sam's stubble with her thumb. "Lay your weary heads to rest."

     Sam and Dean's eyes felt shut and suddenly her face contorted into a sob and she broke off, lowering her head to press her forehead to Dean's chest. It didn't matter that they couldn't hear her anymore. It didn't matter that they were already growing cold beneath her touch. It mattered that she finished her song. It mattered that she finished her goodbye.

     She sucked in a deep, wildly shaky breath and raised her head. "Don't you cry-- no more."

    

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