Title: Silent Requiem
Author: *bright
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: All Hell Breaks Loose. Part 1
Character: Sam
Category: H/C – kind of....
Warning: Death fic
Summary: Not what Sam expected.
Author's note: Just something I needed to get out of my system.
Words: 649
Disclaimer: Me own zip and nada, ‘cept an over-active imagination. Everything belongs to Kripke & Co.

***

What amazes me is that there is no real pain. I feel the knife slitting into me, a swift and precise move, but the pain is oddly dull. It's not even like it happened to me, more like watching it happen to someone else and and only imagining the pain. If you're dying, really dying, there should be something grand? Right? There is nothing but a sense of free falling and I find myself on my knees, I don't even understand why my legs give in under me, they just do. I hear Dean cry out my name in despair and only then do I understand what is happening. The world seems to get more dim and bleak; colors bleeding out, morphing into a gray mist, taking the sounds and sensations with them into this odd silent requiem I've been made part of.

I feel his arms around me, trying to hold me up and I want to help him. I want to help my brother but I have no strength left. I want to ask him what happened, why I am here on my knees. I want to ask him why he is clutching me like if I were dying? Because I am not dying, am I? I want him to chew me out for being a fuckin' pathetic wuzz. If I really were dying there should be something bigger than this mist trickling into my field of vision, this coldness spreading through my limbs and paralyzing me, right? Shouldn't there be angels promising me that they will take care of Dean? Jessica, reaching for my hand? My father waiting for me, guiding me over the last frontier? Or Mom smiling her sad smile at his side? Shit, I'm leaving Dean all alone here, that's so fucked up! I should really get my act together and get up from here, get up and fight. I've learned how to fight, not anywhere near as good as Dean, but I've learned. So why can't I get the fuck out of this fading? Damned, is this really it? No grand fanfare? No big and fancy goodbye to the old and welcome to the new?

Instead there's Dean that's clutching me close, I feel his heat warming me when I start to feel myself disappear. I feel his fear and I can't tell him it's going to be all right. I can't tell him anything and I know I've failed him. I should have a witty dying word at least, something to have him remember me with a smile. Something perky to tell him that it's all right really, that it doesn't even hurt that much.

Because the pain is not from the stab, it's from the despair I hear in Dean's voice when he cusses me out. It's from the shiver in his body as he fights to hold me up. It feels like he's the one broken, not me, but Dean. My indestructible brother. And I can't reach out to him, I can't even move and my eyes are sliding shut as darkness invades me. He holds me tight and I feel his heart beating frantically against my ribs, pounding wildly with life in contrast to my own dwindling rhythm. My brother is hurting and I can't do a thing. His voice is fading too, the words becoming distant whispers that finally die out in an all-consuming silence. Just like the colors and the beats of his heart; they're just no longer there. It feels like everything is ceasing, when in fact, it's only me that's falling into absolute nothingness. And I can't do anything about it, this is bigger than any demon, than any earlier fight. Yet it seems so insignificant.

And all I can think when the last color and sound fade to nothing is a stupid and clichéd;

I love you and I'm sorry.