Supernatural Short Stories

Frozen in Time

Nobody noticed it at first. Not even Dean. They went through the same motions each and every day. Wake up, find a new hunt, kill whatever monster awaited them, do it all over the next day. Sure, maybe there was a bigger bad thrown in every now and then. Or there were those days or weeks when the monsters were quiet.

It wasn't until Sam walked into the bunker's kitchen one morning, holding his lower back that Dean finally realized that things were no longer the same. His younger brother had gray-streaked through his hair, fine wrinkles around his eyes and lips. He was stooped over slightly, mumbling under his breath as struggled to sit down on the barstool. Dean stared at himself in the kitchen's mirror, noticing how his face remained the same. No more wrinkles than the laugh ones he had since he could remember. His hair was still the same dark sandy color. His bones and body were still strong, no matter how many times he was thrown about like a puppet. Sam looked like an old man, while Dean seemed much more like a thirty-year-old than the 60 he was.

"Sam?" He called out, turning his brother's attention to him. "What the hell is happening?"

Sam took a good long look at his brother, finally recognizing the difference between the two men. "Dean, why the hell haven't you aged? Here I am, feeling as if my body is betraying me, and you look the same."

Years passed, and neither Dean nor Sam figured out why Dean had stopped aging. Cas had searched through his extensive knowledge but had come up short as well. Dean could only stand there, watching as his younger brother continued to age right in front of his eyes, while he continued to look like a younger version of himself.

Sam had stopped hunting years ago, preferring to stay behind at the bunker doing research, or spending most of his days napping in the library. Dean had quietly set up a special spot for his brother, with the comfiest armchairs, a portable fireplace, and a couple of blankets. A perfect place for Sam to rest his breaking down body. It was so hard for Dean to see his brother like this and not the tall, square shouldered man who hunted beside him.

Now Sam's shoulders stooped when he stood up, weary from carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders more than once. His lean body was to the point of being too skinny, a fact Dean hated to see. His hair was more grey than brown now, much coarser than before. It was still long, a fact that Dean was secretly grateful for.

Sam's face was etched with wrinkles, lines that showed how long and hard of a life that Sam had fought every minute for. He moved slow now, sitting longer than Dean had ever seen him sit before. It was so hard, seeing Sam as an old man, while Dean still had the strength and look of a young man.

Tears slipped down Dean's cheek as he watched the flames slowly flicker up the harshly chopped wood. The funeral pyre had taken quite some time without anyone to help, but Dean wouldn't have had it any other way. This is the funeral Sam deserved. Not some fancy church, and being buried in a cemetery to be trampled over. Sam was and always would be a hunter.

"Dean," Cas spoke gruffly, his hand landing on Dean's shoulder, squeezing the muscles tightly. "I'm sorry I wasn't here earlier."

It was the first time Dean had seen Cas in years. He had taken over the running of Heaven, and Dean...well Dean hadn't stopped hunting. Most of the time it was by himself, especially now that....

"I can't believe he's gone," Dean muttered, watching as the flames flickered over the white sheet, taken his brother away from him. "Why the hell is he gone first? I'm the older one, and yet here I am, looking as young as a spring chicken. I should be the one up there, not him."

"Dean, I don't know how this has happened to you. But hopefully, this comes as some comfort. Sam is up there, in Heaven. He's with your Mom and Dad. And even Jess. He's happy Dean."

Dean hastily brushed the tears away, turning his face to the sky. It was stormy and dark, much like his emotions.

"Am I ever going to get to join them?" He whispered, wondering what would ever happen to him. "Cas, can you take me away from this world? I don't want to be here anymore. Not without Sammy by my side."

"I wish I could Dean. But whatever did this, made it where I can't touch you."

Years passed, and Cas slipped away as well, sent to the empty to sleep in eternity. Dean stayed at the bunker, continuing to hunt, but his heart wasn't in it anymore. The bunker seemed too quiet, too empty without Sam there. Dean kept his room the same, refusing to toss out any of Sam's possessions. Often times he would find himself sitting there, a glass of whiskey in his hand, as tears slipped down his cheek.

Sam had been gone for twenty years now, and the pain still made Dean's chest hurt. Dean had stopped keeping track of his age years ago but had to think he was over a hundred by now. Yet no gray covered his hair, no more wrinkles covered his face. He was stuck in a timeless loop, forever frozen in this strong but haunted body.

Even the Impala had shut down. The engine had frozen, and Dean had given up on her, letting her rest in peace in the Bunker. She had a coat of dust on her now, still full of weapons as if she was going on the next hunt.

Dean was alone, completely and utterly. No annoying brother to hunt beside him. No awkward Angel friend to argue with. No beautiful sleek black car to race down the road. Just Dean, and the bunker, and all of the memories that haunted him there. For eternity.