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I plunged the silver blade into the younger Winchester's chest plate, the scarlet liquid flowing from the wound, similar to the way the tears cascaded down my face.
I regretted the need to complete this task, but I felt as though my options were finite in unimaginable ways. This was the only way.
"I am sorry, Sam," I managed to choke out. "But I like Dean better."
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Destiel One Shots
FanfictionBe warned, there are many stories here that you may question. A lot. Don't judge me too harshly, I'm always cringing as it is. For the most part it's cute, but....
