Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
IMAGINE: You died and your brothers, Sam and Dean can't deal with it.
"I can't." Dean chokes out to his younger brother. "First mom, then dad, then Bobby, Charlie, even Cas and now Y/N? Why does god hate us so much?" He asks in grief. "I never even got to say good-bye." He falls to the ground completely sobbing. Sam crouches down hugging his older brother. "I just want it to stop." Dean cries out reaching into his jacket pocket pulling a knife out. "Dean, what are you doing?!" Sam yells out as Dean holds the knife up to his wrist. "I just can't do this anymore Sam, all the death. And it's never us Sammy, it's never us." He says dragging the knife along his wrist, not drawing any blood. "This isn't what she would want Dean." Moose says to Squirrel. "But it's what I want" He explains. Before Sam could stop him Dean stabs himself in the heart, one last tear running down his face. "NO!" Sam yells out catching him. "No." He cries. Sam picks the knife up himself, staring at it. He holds it in front of his neck, the blade touching it. He does it quick, his body falling limp beside his brothers. A smile sketched on both of their faces.
