Highway to Hell: Episode Four: Series Finale: "Fallen Angel"
Episode 4 : Fallen Angel
Chapter 9: Whispered Goodbyes
Chapter Wordcount: 1681
Monte knocked hesitantly on the oversized door and leaned in to see John.
He actually looked somewhat strong, if it wasn’t for the dozen machines that were running around him.
“Hey,” he growled.
Monte smiled and made her way over to his bed, sitting on the edge.
“Hey John.”
“Guess they told you, huh?”
Her smiled faded and her gaze dropped.
She gently took his large hand in hers, being careful not to jar the large IV that was sticking out of the back.
“Hey,” he whispered. “None of that now.”
“John…”
What do you say in a moment like this? What in the world could she possibly say?
“Hey…don’t. Don’t beat yourself up. I always knew it would happen someday,” he paused. “But I did what I set out to do. It’s dead, it’s over. It’ll never hurt anyone ever again. And…I got to see my boys happy,” he smiled, squeezing Monte’s hand.
“You can’t…not now.”
He smiled.
“Honey…you and I both know we can’t stop it.”
Monte didn’t even try stopping the tears anymore.
They sat in silence for a moment.
“I wish I could have known you better,” he whispered.
She smiled through her tears and nodded, “Me too Dad.”
He smiled and nodded through his own tears.
Monte inhaled shakily, “Oh god, I should call…Missouri…”
“She’s already been here…said goodbye.”
Monte stared.
“Psychic remember?”
The comment wasn’t even funny, but just the way John said it made her laugh.
He sighed heavily. “Take care of my boys for me,” he finally whispered.
Dean blinked his eyes blearily and noticed Monte wasn’t beside him. He glanced quickly around the room and spotted her sitting in the small chair against the wall.
“Hey,” he growled.
She looked up at him and smiled, hastily wiping some tears away from her cheeks.
“Hey…what?” he asked, sitting up in bed.
She stood up before he could and walked over to him.
“The nurse came,” she said, her throat raw from crying.
“Monte…”
“He’s out of surgery...and he’s awake. I just went and saw him. I was about to wake you guys up…”
“Well where is he, let’s go see him.”
“Dean,” she whispered.
God, how was she going to tell him?
“He’s stable…for now. But the doctors…they,” she paused, tilting her head down so she didn’t have to stare into his soul-stealing hazel eyes.
“They don’t think he’ll make it to the morning.”
Dean’s whole body went numb. He stared into space, not seeing anything around him before he stood up and barely made it to the bathroom to dry heave into the toilet.
Sam sat on the edge of the bed, blinking his eyes against sleep, the sound of Dean’s retching bringing him back to consciousness.
Monte looked over at him sadly with tears streaming down her face and Sam just knew.
Dean came back in, wiping his mouth on his sleeve and sat down next to Monte, eyes never leaving the tiled floor.
Monte watched him warily from the corner of her eye and reached over silently, lacing her fingers within his. She looked up to see Sam crying without a sound and reached across and took his hand as well.
She sniffled, unable to draw air through her stuffy nose and sighed heavily. “I know you boys have had your…issues, with him in the past. I know he’s not always been there, and that when he was is wasn’t the greatest relationship…but guys,” she inhaled shakily, her voice dropping impossibly quiet, “This isn’t the time for that…he loves you,” she choked. “Now is the time to say goodbye,” she whispered, breaking into sobs.
Dean sniffed past his own tears and looked up meeting Sam’s eyes before sighing.
Dean watched Sam’s retreating back, and clenched his jaw when he saw the terror in his brother’s eyes when he turned to look back before going into their father’s room.
John looked up and smiled at Sam.
“Hey Sammy.”
Sam forced a smile, “Hey Dad,” he whispered, sitting down at the bedside chair.
“How you feeling?” It probably wasn’t the best question to ask a dying man, but Sam wasn’t exactly thinking straight either.
John smiled sadly. “There’s no pain if that’s what you’re worried about Sam,” he whispered.
Sam dropped his head, his shaggy hair hiding his watery eyes.
John reached out tentatively and lifted his chin. “You were always my baby boy Sam,” he rumbled.
Sam broke down, tears streaming down his face.
“I never meant to hurt you Sammy.”
Sam reached up and took his father’s hand, “I know, me either,” he sniffled.
John smiled. “I’m sorry.”
Sam smiled, although it never reached his eyes. “Me too.”
“Sam…promise me something.”
“Anything,” Sam said, sitting up a little straighter, willing to do anything his father asked.
“Move on. I never did…and it killed me. You deserve so much Sammy,” he whispered, his voice breaking.
Sam clenched his jaw, willing away his tears, knowing it was a loosing battle.
“I promise Dad,” he whispered.
John smiled sadly and nodded, squeezing his son’s hand.
They sat in silence a moment and Sam watched terrified as John closed his eyes for a second.
“You need to send Dean in now Sammy,” he whispered.
Sam sniffed, the deluge of tears assaulting him again, nodding his head.
His throat constricted and his breathing became short and frantic until John squeezed his hand.
“I love you Sammy.”
Sam outright sobbed, “I love you too Dad,” he whispered, leaning forward and hugging him carefully. He stood straight and smiled once more, nodding and walking quickly out the door.
Monte shot up from the chair by the wall when Sam came out wiping furiously at his face with his jacket sleeve.
Dean instantly stopped his pacing and all but jogged over to Sam.
Monte wrapped him in her arms before he pulled back to look at Dean hesitantly.
Dean just sighed, shot a look at Monte and headed down the hall.
Dean tried to will his Winchester stone cold face into place but just couldn’t do it.
John could tell the second he walked in the door.
Dean’s eyes shot around the room, for some reason afraid that if he looked at John it would be over.
If he didn’t say goodbye then he couldn’t die.
He knew he was lying to himself.
“Hey Dean.”
He swallowed against the bile in his throat and nodded, sitting down quietly next to his dad.
John sat silent, watching the war of wills that was raging across Dean’s face.
“You don’t always have to be strong you know. I know I drilled that into you when you were little but…”
Dean looked up, tears marking a path down his cheeks, just to see John himself crying.
That did it.
“Dean…” he inhaled, wincing slightly and making Dean even more concerned. “I’m sorry. For everything.”
“Don’t Dad. You know I don’t blame you for anything.”
John nodded and smiled forcefully, looking away.
“She loves you.”
Dean smirked and dropped his head. “Yea, I uh, heh, I don’t know why really,” he smiled.
John smiled too. “I coulda said the same thing about your mother.”
Dean ginned and reached up hesitantly. John smiled and took his son’s hand.
“Dean…”
“Dad…”
John smiled at his eldest and Dean sniffed, suddenly finding it hard to breathe.
“Don’t let this consume your life. Let her take care of you, let you guys become a family…don’t let it eat you alive like it did me.”
Dean looked away, his jaw clenching and heart thundering in his chest.
“Promise me,” John whispered, closing his eyes and leaning his head back.
Dean looked up frightened before John pinned him with a stare.
“I promise,” he whispered.
John smiled and looked away.
They sat in silence for a minute. Finally John closed his eyes, his wet eyelashes sticking together before looking back at Dean.
“Time for you to go son.”
Dean looked up wide-eyed. “No…Dad…”
“Dean,” he whispered, “please…I don’t want you here when…” he inhaled.
Dean looked away, giving up on trying not to cry.
“Dean, I love you son.”
He looked up at his father through his blurry vision and shook his head, refusing to submit to reality. “No…”
“Dean.”
Dean’s nostrils flared and his chest constricted painfully. “I love you too Dad,” he whispered.
John smiled, a tear streaking down his cheek before squeezing Dean’s hand and letting go. His signal for Dean to leave.
“Dad, no…not now…”
John just looked at him sadly.
Dean leaned in and hugged his father as best as he could.
“I love you Daddy,” he whispered in his ear, reverting back to the four-year old with a serious case of hero worship.
John smiled and whispered back, “I love you too kiddo.”
Dean pulled back, tears streaming down his face and John nodded once at him before he turned and stalked out into the hallway.
Sam sat in the chair, his face buried in Monte’s stomach, her arms wrapped around him.
They both looked up when Dean came storming out of the room, a hand scrubbing across his face.
*The Steve Carlson Band’s “Fade Away” playing in the background*
None of them could say anything before the squeal of the heart monitor blared from John’s room and nurse’s all went rushing into his room, the alert being announced over the loudspeaker.
Dean never even looked back, just kept up his steady march, breaking down further with every step he took.
He knew, they all did, that that flat line wasn’t going to resume its blipping pace.
Halfway to Monte and Sam he collapsed, sobbing uncontrollably and hit his knees.
Monte dropped to her own knees sliding to a stop just in time to catch his crumpling form. She held him as tight as she could, his whole body trembling in her arms as his fingers sought purchase in her shirt.
Sam sat down quietly behind them and Monte reached behind her, wrapping her arm around the back of his shaggy head, bringing it to rest on her shoulder, and they cried.
Previous: Chapter Eight | Next: Epilogue
Highway to Hell Master Post
Chapter 9: Whispered Goodbyes
Chapter Wordcount: 1681
Monte knocked hesitantly on the oversized door and leaned in to see John.
He actually looked somewhat strong, if it wasn’t for the dozen machines that were running around him.
“Hey,” he growled.
Monte smiled and made her way over to his bed, sitting on the edge.
“Hey John.”
“Guess they told you, huh?”
Her smiled faded and her gaze dropped.
She gently took his large hand in hers, being careful not to jar the large IV that was sticking out of the back.
“Hey,” he whispered. “None of that now.”
“John…”
What do you say in a moment like this? What in the world could she possibly say?
“Hey…don’t. Don’t beat yourself up. I always knew it would happen someday,” he paused. “But I did what I set out to do. It’s dead, it’s over. It’ll never hurt anyone ever again. And…I got to see my boys happy,” he smiled, squeezing Monte’s hand.
“You can’t…not now.”
He smiled.
“Honey…you and I both know we can’t stop it.”
Monte didn’t even try stopping the tears anymore.
They sat in silence for a moment.
“I wish I could have known you better,” he whispered.
She smiled through her tears and nodded, “Me too Dad.”
He smiled and nodded through his own tears.
Monte inhaled shakily, “Oh god, I should call…Missouri…”
“She’s already been here…said goodbye.”
Monte stared.
“Psychic remember?”
The comment wasn’t even funny, but just the way John said it made her laugh.
He sighed heavily. “Take care of my boys for me,” he finally whispered.
Dean blinked his eyes blearily and noticed Monte wasn’t beside him. He glanced quickly around the room and spotted her sitting in the small chair against the wall.
“Hey,” he growled.
She looked up at him and smiled, hastily wiping some tears away from her cheeks.
“Hey…what?” he asked, sitting up in bed.
She stood up before he could and walked over to him.
“The nurse came,” she said, her throat raw from crying.
“Monte…”
“He’s out of surgery...and he’s awake. I just went and saw him. I was about to wake you guys up…”
“Well where is he, let’s go see him.”
“Dean,” she whispered.
God, how was she going to tell him?
“He’s stable…for now. But the doctors…they,” she paused, tilting her head down so she didn’t have to stare into his soul-stealing hazel eyes.
“They don’t think he’ll make it to the morning.”
Dean’s whole body went numb. He stared into space, not seeing anything around him before he stood up and barely made it to the bathroom to dry heave into the toilet.
Sam sat on the edge of the bed, blinking his eyes against sleep, the sound of Dean’s retching bringing him back to consciousness.
Monte looked over at him sadly with tears streaming down her face and Sam just knew.
Dean came back in, wiping his mouth on his sleeve and sat down next to Monte, eyes never leaving the tiled floor.
Monte watched him warily from the corner of her eye and reached over silently, lacing her fingers within his. She looked up to see Sam crying without a sound and reached across and took his hand as well.
She sniffled, unable to draw air through her stuffy nose and sighed heavily. “I know you boys have had your…issues, with him in the past. I know he’s not always been there, and that when he was is wasn’t the greatest relationship…but guys,” she inhaled shakily, her voice dropping impossibly quiet, “This isn’t the time for that…he loves you,” she choked. “Now is the time to say goodbye,” she whispered, breaking into sobs.
Dean sniffed past his own tears and looked up meeting Sam’s eyes before sighing.
Dean watched Sam’s retreating back, and clenched his jaw when he saw the terror in his brother’s eyes when he turned to look back before going into their father’s room.
John looked up and smiled at Sam.
“Hey Sammy.”
Sam forced a smile, “Hey Dad,” he whispered, sitting down at the bedside chair.
“How you feeling?” It probably wasn’t the best question to ask a dying man, but Sam wasn’t exactly thinking straight either.
John smiled sadly. “There’s no pain if that’s what you’re worried about Sam,” he whispered.
Sam dropped his head, his shaggy hair hiding his watery eyes.
John reached out tentatively and lifted his chin. “You were always my baby boy Sam,” he rumbled.
Sam broke down, tears streaming down his face.
“I never meant to hurt you Sammy.”
Sam reached up and took his father’s hand, “I know, me either,” he sniffled.
John smiled. “I’m sorry.”
Sam smiled, although it never reached his eyes. “Me too.”
“Sam…promise me something.”
“Anything,” Sam said, sitting up a little straighter, willing to do anything his father asked.
“Move on. I never did…and it killed me. You deserve so much Sammy,” he whispered, his voice breaking.
Sam clenched his jaw, willing away his tears, knowing it was a loosing battle.
“I promise Dad,” he whispered.
John smiled sadly and nodded, squeezing his son’s hand.
They sat in silence a moment and Sam watched terrified as John closed his eyes for a second.
“You need to send Dean in now Sammy,” he whispered.
Sam sniffed, the deluge of tears assaulting him again, nodding his head.
His throat constricted and his breathing became short and frantic until John squeezed his hand.
“I love you Sammy.”
Sam outright sobbed, “I love you too Dad,” he whispered, leaning forward and hugging him carefully. He stood straight and smiled once more, nodding and walking quickly out the door.
Monte shot up from the chair by the wall when Sam came out wiping furiously at his face with his jacket sleeve.
Dean instantly stopped his pacing and all but jogged over to Sam.
Monte wrapped him in her arms before he pulled back to look at Dean hesitantly.
Dean just sighed, shot a look at Monte and headed down the hall.
Dean tried to will his Winchester stone cold face into place but just couldn’t do it.
John could tell the second he walked in the door.
Dean’s eyes shot around the room, for some reason afraid that if he looked at John it would be over.
If he didn’t say goodbye then he couldn’t die.
He knew he was lying to himself.
“Hey Dean.”
He swallowed against the bile in his throat and nodded, sitting down quietly next to his dad.
John sat silent, watching the war of wills that was raging across Dean’s face.
“You don’t always have to be strong you know. I know I drilled that into you when you were little but…”
Dean looked up, tears marking a path down his cheeks, just to see John himself crying.
That did it.
“Dean…” he inhaled, wincing slightly and making Dean even more concerned. “I’m sorry. For everything.”
“Don’t Dad. You know I don’t blame you for anything.”
John nodded and smiled forcefully, looking away.
“She loves you.”
Dean smirked and dropped his head. “Yea, I uh, heh, I don’t know why really,” he smiled.
John smiled too. “I coulda said the same thing about your mother.”
Dean ginned and reached up hesitantly. John smiled and took his son’s hand.
“Dean…”
“Dad…”
John smiled at his eldest and Dean sniffed, suddenly finding it hard to breathe.
“Don’t let this consume your life. Let her take care of you, let you guys become a family…don’t let it eat you alive like it did me.”
Dean looked away, his jaw clenching and heart thundering in his chest.
“Promise me,” John whispered, closing his eyes and leaning his head back.
Dean looked up frightened before John pinned him with a stare.
“I promise,” he whispered.
John smiled and looked away.
They sat in silence for a minute. Finally John closed his eyes, his wet eyelashes sticking together before looking back at Dean.
“Time for you to go son.”
Dean looked up wide-eyed. “No…Dad…”
“Dean,” he whispered, “please…I don’t want you here when…” he inhaled.
Dean looked away, giving up on trying not to cry.
“Dean, I love you son.”
He looked up at his father through his blurry vision and shook his head, refusing to submit to reality. “No…”
“Dean.”
Dean’s nostrils flared and his chest constricted painfully. “I love you too Dad,” he whispered.
John smiled, a tear streaking down his cheek before squeezing Dean’s hand and letting go. His signal for Dean to leave.
“Dad, no…not now…”
John just looked at him sadly.
Dean leaned in and hugged his father as best as he could.
“I love you Daddy,” he whispered in his ear, reverting back to the four-year old with a serious case of hero worship.
John smiled and whispered back, “I love you too kiddo.”
Dean pulled back, tears streaming down his face and John nodded once at him before he turned and stalked out into the hallway.
Sam sat in the chair, his face buried in Monte’s stomach, her arms wrapped around him.
They both looked up when Dean came storming out of the room, a hand scrubbing across his face.
*The Steve Carlson Band’s “Fade Away” playing in the background*
None of them could say anything before the squeal of the heart monitor blared from John’s room and nurse’s all went rushing into his room, the alert being announced over the loudspeaker.
Dean never even looked back, just kept up his steady march, breaking down further with every step he took.
He knew, they all did, that that flat line wasn’t going to resume its blipping pace.
Halfway to Monte and Sam he collapsed, sobbing uncontrollably and hit his knees.
Monte dropped to her own knees sliding to a stop just in time to catch his crumpling form. She held him as tight as she could, his whole body trembling in her arms as his fingers sought purchase in her shirt.
Sam sat down quietly behind them and Monte reached behind her, wrapping her arm around the back of his shaggy head, bringing it to rest on her shoulder, and they cried.
Previous: Chapter Eight | Next: Epilogue
Highway to Hell Master Post