The Final Fall

Banner By: Stacey
Title: The Final Fall
Rating: PG-13
Author: Sxymami0909
Fandom: Supernatural
Pairing: Dean
Word Count: 570
Prompt: “champion” (Fandon_Fridays)



It felt as if everything around him was moving in slow motion. A gnawing pain tore through his chest, bright light spearing forth from it. Head thrown back, screams ripped from his dry throat echoing through the expansive valley. Body taunt with pain, as power clawed its way out of him.

And then, it was over. His body hit the ground with a heavy thud, a wave of dust blowing up from beneath his worn shell, settling around him. He blinked his eyes, once, twice and as he lay on his back glancing into the sky the clouds parting.

Luminous streams of sun emerged causing him to squint as he sucked in the stale air around him. His ragged breathing was loud as he tried to catch his breath. Bracing his hands on the crisp grass he slowly pushed his aching body up.

Clenched fists curled into sharp blades as he digested the desolate scene around him. The stench of death was in the air, dozens of bodies littering the ground around him. He tried to stand, but his body was still too damaged. Stumbling he landed hard on his hands and knees.

Water pooled in his eyes, his chest tightened and bile rose in his throat, choking him. Lifting his head he gazed down at the barren fields below him, at the carnage that lay there. He did that. Those people, hunters, demons they were dead because of him.

He turned away from it, squeezing his eyes shut, wishing…hoping…praying for it to all be a nightmare, but he knew it was impossible. This was his reality. Emptiness was all he felt. As if the very being of who he was had been sliced out of him.

When God is gone and the Devil takes holds, who will have mercy on your soul? No one…at least not his. He heard the fluttering of wings and swallowed hard. The grass crunched under the weight of boots as the Archangel walked over and stood beside him.

“It’s over. You can get up.”

He shook his head, voice hoarse as if he hadn’t used it in weeks.

“No.”

“Dean, you are a champion to this world, a hero. Humanity will prevail because of your selflessness.”

He turned his head slowly to face Michael as he stood on shaky legs. One arm clutching his stomach, the other at his side. The sympathy covering the Archangel’s face only served to strengthen the disgust filling Dean’s gut.

“Don’t you dare. I’m no champion and I’m certainly no hero. Have you looked around? This blood is on my hands.”

“Sacrifices needed to be made for the survival of humanity. You’ve completed your mission Dean…what can we do to thank you?”

There was nothing left. His world and his heart were void of everything, but anguish and hate. His eyes caught sight of his brother’s mangled body and in the moment there was only one thing he wanted. When his eyes met Michael’s, the Archangel knew without a doubt what Dean had decided.

In one last act of mercy, Michael reached out, ice cold hands taking hold of him. Eyes closed, with a touch of hand against forehead, warmth filled Dean as Michael released him once and for all from the pain of his earthly existence.

Dean Winchester fell for the last time and Michael bowed his head in prayer. His name was death…and the end was here.