the gates of hell have closed
dean’s lying there, breathing. he’s breathing. alive. he doesn’t want to open his eyes. but he does.
he sees kevin. he’s clutching mama tran. alive. he can’t see sam. he can’t see cas.
he gets to his feet slowly. he walks. walks for what could have been hours but is only minutes. because there’s two bodies on the floor. sam and cas
they’re laying. not breathing. sam’s right arm stretched out toward cas and cas’s left stretched out towards sam. their index fingers are hooked round each other. their eyes are shut. peaceful
dean’s throat closes up. he stops breathing. he can’t
he falls to his knees, hands shaking, hovering in the air, cheeks damp, lips quivering.
he punches the ground. punches it until his fist starts bleeding
he leans forwards, takes sam’s gun - it’s still warm from the palm of his hand - presses it to his temple and pulls the trigger
when his lifeless body hits the floor, cas’s eyes open