The Records of Dean Winchester and Elena Gilbert

Denouement

               

Denouement |ˌdāno͞oˈmäN|

noun

The resolution of a narrative.

            [Editor's Note]: This is the final section of this file. It will briefly summarize what life was like for Dean after the loss of Elena Gilbert. I have poured my heart and soul—though this is merely an expression, as I am an angel—into this record of their relationship. And though at times it was incredibly difficult, I am pleased with the results. I believe I have accomplished what I set out to do: prove that Elena Gilbert and Dean Winchester were truly soulmates. This is further reinforced by what I have unearthed about that mysterious file I was talking about, but let us not discuss that now. For now I wish to focus on Dean and the heartache he went through, and I will address the mysterious file in the Epilogue.

May 9th, 2021

Nothing.

Dean felt absolutely nothing.

Elena's eyes stare blankly at his feet, glossy and unseeing. She'd fallen sideways when the bullet entered her skull, her arms bent awkwardly underneath her body. The blood had pooled underneath and behind her, saving Dean from the horror of having her on the soles of his shoes.

Dean had been around enough dead bodies to know what was happening to Elena. By now the blood left in her body has begun to pool and settle. Rigor mortis has set in, freezing her facial expression and stiffening her limbs. Her body temperature has significantly dropped due to algor mortis, and is most likely almost at room temperature. And her soul, the thing that made her Elena, is long gone.

But Dean felt nothing. No, it was less than nothing. He felt empty, as if someone had carved out his insides like the guts of a pumpkin. His chest felt so hollow Dean was sure he would ring like a bell if someone hit him. It had never occurred to him he could feel this way before, and nothing—none of the guilt, horrors, or grief of his past—had prepared him.

            We never even had a chance.

It was an eternity before the back door slammed open, Sam's voice booming from behind him.

"Dean? Dean!"

Sam's heavy footsteps rush towards him. Dean doesn't turn to see his brother approach him. He can only stare, as he has been, at Elena's lifeless body.

"Dean! Are you all right? Are you—"

Sam comes to a screeching halt on Dean's right, a mixture of a gasp and a groan expelling from his gaping mouth. Though he doesn't turn to watch, Dean can feel the sag of Sam's shoulders, the compression of his chest, the sorrow closing his throat. Eventually Sam's hand finds purchase on Dean's shoulder, gripping his big brother for both support and comfort.

Sam doesn't say a word when he moves forward to block Elena from Dean's view. He squats down, his hands moving mechanically as they untie Dean. When Sam is done he lifts a hand to Dean's face, hoping Dean's eyes will focus on him. They do for a moment, his eyelids slightly widening, before they return to Elena.

Dean falls forward out of the chair and Sam moves aside. The distance Dean has to travel is small, only a couple shuffles of his hands and knees before he's on top of her.

            I'm right here, Dean. I'm alive. I'm safe.

He wished she looked peaceful, asleep and dreaming. She doesn't. Elena looks frightening, eyes bloodshot and bulging, and now the fatal wound is no longer hidden by convenient head placement.