Dean sat in silence. He didn't speak. He didn't move. He barely breathed.
The thing he loved most in the world was dead. Gone. Torn from his life. Taken from him. Sam was gone and Dean knew he wasn't coming back this time.
He had tried everything. Deals, rituals, sacrifices, the whole of it, but nothing was going to bring Sam back. Dean knew this, but refused to give up on his brother. His best friend. His soulmate. He was supposed to take care of Sammy. It was his job and he fucked it up. There was nothing more to do but to blame himself. The weight of Sam's absence was bearing down on him. He couldn't take it any longer.
Dean slipped the gun into his hands. The cool metal had a comforting feel to it.
Without a second thought Dean placed the gun to his temple and whispered "I'm coming Sammy" before pulling the trigger.
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Sorry for the terrible grammar and punctuation errors and paragraph issues:)
Hope you liked it!
Sorry for the really short story too:)))
