tigriswolf | another 5.22 ficlet

If he’d been in any better condition, he knows, curled up with Lisa, head on her breast, listening to her heartbeat, he would have jumped into that pit after his brother. Brothers. Mostly Sam, but Adam, too. That smartass kid he never really got to know.

If he’d been in any better condition. But he wasn’t. He was just as dead in Stull Cemetery as he’d been in that hospital, Tessa telling him to let go.   Helpless, and useless, and needing to be saved. And he keeps getting saved.

He focuses on Lisa’s heartbeat. He didn’t actually promise Sam that he’d live, that he wouldn’t look for some way to get Sam out. He didn’t say the words, and he was so sure he’d die with Sam—

But he’s not dead, and Lisa’s breathing close enough to feel her chest rise and fall.   He’s not dead, and their whole family is all about doing stupid shit to save each other when someone’s practically in the ground.

Sam saved him this time. Sam defeated the baddest badass in the history of ever.   And Sam asked him to let it rest. To let their story end like this. Sam in Hell with Lucifer, and Dean here, with Lisa and Ben and apple fucking pie.

Lisa’s hair smells like roses. Her pulse is strong, her heart thumping beneath his ear. He’s so tired. He should be in the pit with Sam, but he’s not.

He won’t die for his brother. This time, he’ll live.