Completely Empty

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This is pretty sad...

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You at least thought that your life would have been longer, maybe another ten years at least -counting what most hunters usually lived to, but there was no chance of that now. Now, reality was playing its cards, now you were really dying, your life draining away. You knew it was over as soon as the knife was plunged into you, when it pierced your skin, your flesh, you knew you wouldn't survive. Perhaps it truly was your time.

You let out a shaky breath as the knife enters you, no sound of pain but the small gasp that falls lightly from your mouth. Your eyes widen fully at the new pain, your hands rushing in an attempt to prevent the blood from pouring out of your large wound, but you can't stop it. You fall to your knees, your knees clattering against the floor.

All you hear as you fall to the ground is an intense buzzing and the thump as your knees hit the ground, with lastly the cry of "no!" echoing in the distance. Your vision goes blurry, tears rimming your eyes, ready to drop, fall down your cheeks. You see two knees slide in front of you, you see Dean, your older brother, slide to help, to save you. He pulls your body into his, your hand landing on his chest. Your eyes felt weak, you wanted to close them, let into the darkness, but deep down you were screaming to fight, not give up. Dean pulls you back, placing you on his lap, his hands on your wound.

"No, no, no, no. Hey, hey! Keep your eyes open, (Y/n)! It's not your time, it's not time. L-look at me!" He keeps his eyes on yours, tears running down his cheeks in endless streams. "Please." He pleas over and over, having hope that you might just survive this. You knew better though. Your body feels useless, your throat sore. You would have said that you were okay, to reasure him, but you couldn't form words.

You took control of your weak hand and lifted it to Dean's cheek, not caring about the blood that would most likely exchange onto his skin. You smiled to your brother, wanting him to see that you knew what was coming, that you were ready. His tear filled eyes focused on you, watching your breaths space out -each one with a longer gap between. Dean kept saying that it wasn't happening, that he wasn't losing you. You felt the life in you diminishing with every breath, you felt your life dissapearing, you knew it was coming to the end. Your last words to Dean were three simple words, three words Dean would remember forever.

"Tell Sammy... goodbye." His sobs worsened as he watched your hand slip from his cheek, your head fall back against his leg. You felt your self go numb; your legs, your hands and then your face. You felt everything leave you, every worry, every thought. You fell away from life, to descend downwards, not up, down, your previous actions -deals- to fault. With your last small breath you pass away, your eyes falling shut, your body completely empty.

You now felt nothing.

Dean held you close, he wouldn't let go. When Sam had arrived a little after, he froze, then collapsed in tears, hearing Dean tell him your last words broke him to pieces. He too denied that you were gone, that it was some sick twisted trick or a nightmare. He never woke up, though.

They both mourned, Sam and Dean. Not long later, they had spread the news; Bobby first, then your close friends. They tried every way possible to get you back, but nothing would work, eventually they stopped, they accepted it, but they always hoped and agreed that if there was a solid lead, they would have to take it, they would find you.

But all in all, they will never forget you.

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