Dean, watch out! 

                                                 I won’t let him hurt you.

     A sharp pain jolted up his side as he sprang up in his bed drenched in a cold sweat. What a strange and authentic nightmare he had experienced; it was almost like it was real, like it had actually happened. Yet as his fingers traced up the side of his midsection, there were no lacerations. No blood seeped from his innate wounds although the pain felt as real as anything he’d experienced before.

               [ Could it have been more than just a dream? Perhaps another vision? ]

     As he had once promised, his older brother would be the first to know. Footsteps trailed lightly against the massed nadir of Bobby’s home before stepping into the kitchen unscathed. The two hunters sat in unnatural silence, with the exception of the occasional lament evading the older Winchester’s lips. Sam walked before them with a concerned expression touching at his features; what happened? 

     Howbeit they still did not acknowledge his presence in the expanse. “Uh, guys? What’s going on?” Not a single look. Must’ve been really bad, the burly hunter began thinking to himself as he arched a brow at the others. Regardless of what it was, he deserved to know. He was just as much a part of the team as they were, and withholding whatever upsetting details was not part of the agreement.

                    “Just tell me, I can handle it." 

                                          Nothing but dead   s
                                                                                  i
                                                                                      l
                                                                                         e
                                                                                             n
                                                                                                c
                                                                                                   e.

     Frustrated, Sam finally reached out and embraced his brother’s shoulder before drawing his hand back up. No. It couldn’t be. The way his hand fell through Dean’s body so effortlessly and apparitional finally explained what the two men were on about. 

     "I…..I’m dead.” The words in itself were not enough to dig him out of the hole that was his denial, but facing the reality of his situation was a start. Sam watched as the older hunter rose from his seat with anguish lingering behind his eyes and hurt evident on his pout. Without a word, he stepped outside not to return. “Goodbye, Uncle Bobby,” he whispered softly as his father figure disappeared into the backwoods.

                    Little did he know that it was the last time Sam would see him.

     Lowering himself onto the couch next to Dean, the younger Winchester found himself watching his brother’s every movement and every grimace. Sam noticed things he hadn’t before, like the way flecks of golden rings finessed his alluring emerald eyes, and the way the dimples in his cheeks flexed when he took a heavy breath. He noticed the apparent lines that were expanding on his temple as he aged and how the freckles only bolstered in exclusive patterns across his skin since their childhood together. 

     He reminisced on the good times they shared together; the laughs, the pranks, the drunk nights they sporadically indulged in, taking shot after shot and tempting one another into doing things they’d never undertake in their sober minds. Faint memories of his lips trailing against Dean’s chiseled jaw stood out, his fingers tracing every outline, every muscle lining the hunter’s body. Neither would speak of the occurrences the following morning, but the thought of his mouth exploring Dean’s body was enough to keep him hooked and wanting more.

     Yet he was unable to focus on the steady beating of his older brother’s heart or the rhythm of his jagged breaths. Instead, what caught his attention was the soft whimpers that evaded him and the strength he endured to hold back the dam of tears built up in his sage orbs. Wrapping an arm around his shoulder, Sam rested his head against the older Winchester’s chest before he was jolted up in a sudden spring.

     "Sam? Is that you?“ Dean’s voice was a mere whisper as he spoke, rubbing his eyes to rid them of pure wetness. "I know it’s you, Sammy. Just listen to me for a sec. You’re fine, you’re gonna be fine. Everything’s alright. You’re gonna be fine.”

     Don’t lie to me, Dean. It’s too late. Cas can’t save me, you can’t save me. It’s my time. As if reiterating his point, a figure appeared before him as he slowly raised his hazel orbs. A small tinge of him was hoping he’d see Tessa before him for familiarity, but he realized there was nothing familiar about what he was experiencing. He was dead, and this time he was never coming back. 

                [ Maybe I could stay.

                                  Maybe I could be by his side for the rest of his life. ]

     As he looked over at Dean, something changed about the way his lips pursed together, and the way his eyes gleamed against the hint of light in the room. Could it be — acceptance? Sam knew better than to expect his brother to give up on bringing him back, but perhaps he would set him free for the moment. Perhaps he was letting go because his need for Sam’s happiness exceeded his own.

     And he was right. As the man in the black stared him down with a clock ticking deafeningly in the background, he knew he couldn’t stay. He refused to become an angry spirit who held on too tight to the past. He refused to become the very thing that him and his brother dedicated their lives to hunting. 

                             тιcĸ тocĸ. тιcĸ тocĸ.

     Seconds felt like hours as Sam took one last look at his brother. Choking back a sob, he propped himself down on a knee before the seated hunter and rested a hand on his leg. A couple of free fingers reached up to brush away Dean’s tears before he planted a tender kiss on his lips. 

                                                         "I love you, Dean. I love you so much.

                                                                                                                  I’ll see ya’ later.“

     His head dropped a bit as he began sauntering towards the reaper, following the dark figure out of this life and into another. Before making the final leap, he turned back to his brother one last time, a sad smile sitting at his lips. "I’ll make sure they have some pie for you when your time comes." 

                                                  —————————–

     A humble abode with a white picket fence erected before him, the front doors propping open as if marking his arrival into his new home. The Impala sat parked in his garage alongside a garden of fresh fruits and vegetables, bringing a simper to his mouth. 

     One day, he knew he’d have Dean to share in this new life with. He knew he’d be able to see those eyes again, and that smile. God, how he already missed that smile. He missed the jokes, the cases, the bonding. However, it brought great happiness to him knowing that his brother was finally at peace with his abrupt demise. He’d always be watching out for his big brother up until his last breath on earth.

     But Sam wasn’t the only one who was attaining his fresh start; it was time for the pie-loving, porn-watching Winchester to live a life free of worry and distress. Everybody always said it — Sam was his weak spot. Now with him starting a new life above, maybe his brother would finally be able to do the same. 

A new beginning. Now it was finally his turn to play protector of his older brother.