Supernatural preferences and imagines

The End (Destiel)

Yeah, so don't ever trust me if I say I'm gonna update regularly. Anyway, here's some Destiel angst. Enjoy.

I see it.

I do.

I'm sorry I couldn't help you, sometimes I think it's my biggest regret, that I didn't tell you.

It isn't real.

The way the world is heavy and your heart heavier. The weight of the world isn't on your shoulders, you once told me it is on your heart, I see it in your smile. You somehow manage to do that: smile,even when the world around you is breaking and everything you hold dear is turning against you. You once told me that family doesn't end with blood, but I think it's all it could end with. I tried to stick by you, be your rock, be who you needed, be by your side.

I never made it there.

I tried.

I'm sorry.

I'll stop.

Castiel

I crumpled the paper in my hand, and rubbed my hand over my face, not understanding what he was telling me. He'll stop? Stop what? Honestly, it's seemed like he doesn't do much of anything anymore. I sighed and put the paper back on the table where I had found it. Forcing myself out of the chair I had sunk into after reading the first couple lines, I walked to the fridge, pulled out a beer, and almost mechanically opened it. The brown liquid went easily down my throat, my taste buds enjoying the all too familiar taste.

I picked the paper up again.

I think this is the last straw. I'd sensed something about to happen for a while now. That cold feeling of dread that something was about to go horribly wrong, that I was about to lose a battle I didn't even know I was fighting. I've gotten tired of the feeling, ready to yell at the world to bring it, to just end my misery and inflict whatever pain it wants.

Who even cares at this point.

Cas is gone and Sam left a couple weeks ago. Most of our other friends are dead. Apparently, I've gotten too moody and violent, a "danger to myself and the world" in the words of dear old Sammy. If only he knew. The nights haven't been good, nightmares are a regular and it's rare to have a night where I'm not drunk out of my mind, or whatever mind I have left. The days have been worse. Hours on end of torture, just thinking about what I lost, who I lost. I can't take Cas leaving me. I just can't. I tried coping by hunting, but after a vampire bit into my shoulder and ripped it to shreds, Sam has kept me in the bunker. I guess when he left I could've gone back out, but some part of him is still with me, making me eat food or collapse into bed.

Screw it.

I don't care what he thinks. It's not like he'll know, or care. I picked up my gun and check that it still had bullets. It does. The pain in my shoulder is roaring back with all this motion, but I ignore it. I don't have time to feel pain. I don't know why but I feel called to this, my mission, my quest, my final stand. I take a look back at the crumpled piece of paper and can see Castiel's name at the end, scrawled in his handwriting.

"It's been quite the ride, buddy."

I clear my throat, it's scratchy. I haven't spoken since Sam left. I continue my pathetic attempt at a goodbye.

"Hell broke loose, didn't it? I don't think we could've done anything better. The world just doesn't want to be saved. I've never wanted to be saved either. Thanks for trying. Thanks," I pause and swallow hard, "thanks for everything. You did everything you could. If you can hear me, take care of Sammy. He didn't deserve this life. He didn't deserve me as his family. You didn't either. You really where though. My family. My everything. I'm sorry."

I clear my throat again and look away quickly. It's time to go. I head back out to the vamps nest I had found earlier. Some old Metallica song plays in the background, I barely hear it. And suddenly I'm here, then I'm inside the warehouse, then I'm surrounded. Dad would be disappointed, I didn't have a good plan and now I'm going to die. I shoot again and again, missing most of the time. The tell tale empty click seems to echo around me and I know this is it. I'm going down, but I'm going down swinging. I punch at one blonde vamp and he catches my arm easily. I look into his eyes and see the recognition.

"Dean Winchester? Is this what you've come to?"

I spit in his face and he digs his teeth into my neck. My vision is blurring, red is all I can see, and the pain is too much. The world is too much.

Then I hear it.

The voice of an angel.

"Dean?"