#mcd?

Ao3

Beautiful art by the amazing @asta-blackwart

He’s hurt and mad.

omg Rose

They get a call about a suspicious amount of demons gathering in one place so they decide to check it out. They’re not in a hurry. These days, a group of demons is nothing to get excited about. They even have a fun drive, it’s sort of like the old times. Dean’s singing too loud to AC/DC and Sam is pretending he’s grumpy, like he doesn’t love seeing Dean back in his element. When they get there it’s almost too easy. A dozen demons or so, enough to get them breathing hard, to make them wonder if they’re just a little bit out of shape. Dean has no inkling something is wrong. He never even thinks about the fact that they’re in Detroit until a hand wraps around his throat and Lucifer purrs, “Don’t you ever listen? I told you you’d always end up here.”

Dean wakes up one morning in a white room, strapped to a spotless hospital bed. He tries to remember their last hunt but it all comes in bits and pieces. There had been a coven hadn’t it? He’d always hated witches. No matter how hard he tries to remember, he doesn’t know what happened with Sam. His head hurts and everything looks a little too bright, like a sum of bad hangovers combined with crawling out of hell. He struggles against restrains until a doctor walks in. The doctor explains that they’d restrained him because he’s tried to hurt the nurses and himself. That Dean’s been in a coma for two weeks. That Dean is lucky to be alive after getting  hit by an eighteen wheel truck. And that he’s sorry to say, but that Dean’s brother and dad didn’t survive the accident.

With the darkness comes the cold. It’s ok for a while. The Impala is stocked with emergency provisions and there are blankets in the back. They huddle together and ration their food and water figuring eventually, the darkness would clear. Two days pass, then two more. The cold is constant, seeping into their bones. They’re starting to run out of water. Two weeks pass and they can’t tell day from night. Dean cracks jokes and Sam pretends they’re funny, pretends he’s not afraid. He sleeps a lot and Dean can’t make himself close his eyes. They make love twice, under pretense that they’re trying to keep warm. But there’s desperation in it because each time feels like it could be their last. Dean goes first, his head on Sam’s shoulder, and it feels like falling asleep. Sam is two minutes behind him. The next day the darkness clears and sun finds them entwined together in the back seat of the Impala.

When Dean turns sixty, Sam puts his foot down. That life is done. Dean’s got a bad knee, a torn rotator cuff in his shoulder, and has gone completely deaf in his left ear. Sam’s no spring chicken either for being four years younger. He’s had to buy a special mattress or he can’t get out of bed in the morning. His glasses are now so thick that without them, he’s basically blind. They turn the bunker over to some new kid Garth recruited, and never look back. They buy a farmhouse. Dean spends a lot of time rocking on the front porch with his shotgun and drinking beer, keeping an eye out for anything suspicious. Sam becomes well known at the local library, finally getting a chance to read for pleasure instead of research. They eat breakfast at a small local diner every morning and the waitresses whisper how adorable they are, two old guys, married by the looks of their rings, growing old together. When Sam is diagnosed with congestive heart failure, they take one last road trip together. Sam wants to see the Grand Canyon and Dean is more than happy to hit the road again. He falls asleep behind the wheel two miles out of Albuquerque. When they fly off the road, it’s so fast, just a blink of an eye. The medics find them draped across each other and it looks like they’re smiling.

It’s just a regular hunt gone wrong. Bound to happen eventually, even their luck doesn’t last forever. Sam is just a hair slower than he should be, he twists just a millimeter in the wrong direction, and instead of avoiding the knife, he finds it buried deep in his gut. And maybe Dean goes a little reckless, a little crazy. But he’s not long behind Sam in death, the same way they’d always been in life. They find themselves on the hood of the Impala again, looking at the stars. The cooler at their feet is full of beer, and no matter how many they drink, there is always plenty more. The sky is always clear and gorgeous, and the thruway behind them is always empty. They could get in the car and drive away, and they both know the road will never end, that each time they stop, there will be the same sky full of stars, the same cooler at their feet, and that they will always be together.