Dean Winchester x reader

part 37

Loving and losing someone you used to care about hurts. But you just have to move on, eventually.
But what if you can't move on? What will you do then?
Your last smile brought me so much pain, because it was a broken, defeated smile.
How I wish I could see you again even just for a few seconds. I never even got to say goodbye, not even 'I love you'. But whenever you are, I know you're finally at peace. The sad thing is that I know I will never be at peace until I meet you again.
Wherever and whenever that might be.
As the saying goes: "survivors have scars, victims have graves". Sometimes I have been thinking if it should've been me instead of you. The world needs Dean Winchester, more than they need me. I need you more than I need myself. Deep down I know that Sam needs you more than he needs me.
Which is why I have to do this. Come hell or high water, I will have to do this.
I have been trying to find a way to bring you back, Dean, and I think this is it, this is the way to bring you back.
You plunge the blade into your body, your gasp reverberating in the empty warehouse. You fall down on the hard, cold floor, your life starting to ebb away.
As your last breath leaves your lungs, you see sun flickering across the warehouse.
The sun hits you, shining onto your face as if it's saying goodbye on behalf of everyone you've ever known.
You faintly hear him yelling your name, feeling him kneel in front of you, grabbing your face with his calloused hands. You smile faintly, even though tears are falling down from your eyes.
You lift your hand up, skimming your fingers across his cheek, whispering out with your last strength:
"I love you... please understand... my reason... why did I do this..."
He grabs your hand, kissing it gently.
His eyes are glistening with unshed tears, as he whispers to you:
"It's okay, you can go now"
You look into his eyes one last time before your eyes slide shut, as you drift away into darkness.
He looks at you, tears falling down his cheeks.
He kisses your forehead one last time, before standing up, taking your body into his arms, carrying you out. He puts you into the backseat of Impala.
He gave you a hunter's funeral, scattering your ashes into the wind from the edge of a cliff. The wind blows, and the sun shines as your earthly remains go with the wind, free like a bird.
In the beginning there was a woman who was hellbent on bringing her beloved back, but in the end there was a man who had to let her go.