𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐢 | 𝐬𝐩𝐧

𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐍

"WE'RE gonna save you, Dean. I don't care if I have to die to drag your ass back here myself. I'm gonna go talk to your dad." Carter said. She got up and walked out. Sam looked at the board. "You still here?" He asked. The pointer moved to YES. "Good. I'm worried about Carter, man." He said.

M-E 2.

"We need you here. She's right. We'll save you. Just---Protect your body." Sam sighed. Dean moved the pointer to GOODBYE and Carter walked back in. "Hey. So your Dad wasn't in his room. But I got his journal, so who knows? Maybe there's something here." Carter shrugged. She handed the leather-covered book to Sam and pulled up the chairs.

After about thirty minutes, he closed it. "I couldn't find anything in the book. I don't know how to help you. But I'll keep trying, all right? As long as you keep fighting. I mean, come on you can't, you can't leave me here alone with Dad. We'll kill each other, you know that. Dean, you gotta hold on. You can't go, man, not now. We were just starting to be brothers again. Can you hear me?" He asked.

There was no response. Sam and Carter sat by his bed, praying Dean was fine. He had to be. He was breathing, right?

Carter was woken up by someone gasping for air. She saw Dean sitting up, choking on the tube in his throat. "We need help!" Sam yelled to the nurses in the hall.
-

"I can't explain it. The edema's vanished. The internal contusions are healed. Your vitals are good. You have some kind of angel watching over you. " The doctor told Dean. "Thanks, doc." He replied. The man left and Dean followed up with questions about the Reaper. They had no idea how he ditched it. All the group knew was that something was wrong.

John knocked on the door, making their heads spin. "How you feeling, dude?" He asked. "Fine, I guess. I'm alive." Dean replied. "Where were you last night?" Sam shouted. "I had some things to take care of," John muttered. "Did you go after the demon?" He accused. John shook his head. "Can we not fight? You know, half the time we're fighting, I don't know what we're fighting about. We're just butting heads. Sammy, I, I've made some mistakes. But I've always done the best I could. I just don't want to fight anymore, okay?" John pleaded.

Sam stopped. "Dad, are you all right?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm just a little tired. Hey, son, would you, uh, would you mind getting me a cup of caffeine?" His dad requested. "You aren't too bad, Carter. Thanks for helping my boys." He said to the girl. "Thanks, Mr. Winchester. I'm gonna go grab a coffee." She responded. He patted her shoulder as she walked by.

When Sam and Carter walked into the hall once again with two full cups of coffee, the last thing they expected to see was John's body lying on the floor. "Dad! Dad?!" Sam shouted, dropping the coffee. "We need nurses!" Carter screamed.

The doctors began resuscitation. Sam and Dean pushed through the nurses. "Okay, stop compressions." The doctor told them. "Still no pulse." A nurse reported. "Okay, that's it, everybody. I'll call it. Time of death: 10:41 am."

Sam and Dean couldn't be pulled from their father's side. They held his hands until his body turned as cold as ice. Even then, Dean tried to hold out hope. "Dad, you gotta---Damn it." He mumbled.

Carter walked up beside him and wrapped her arms around his temples, kissing the top of his head gently. Dean broke down into sobs. He hid his face in Carter's chest and she rubbed his head.

Sam stared out of the hospital window, thinking about how his final moments with dad involved him trying to begin an argument and a coffee run. He bit his bottom lip so he could hold back tears and looked at his Dad.