Are You Ready? (Supernatural)

                                    

                                          
Sam knew this day was coming, soon enough. He just didn’t think it would happen now. He didn’t think it would come so soon. He stared at the dirty ceiling above him, breathing heavily, his lungs struggling. He choked, blood spilling from his mouth, skin itching. He closed his eyes, trying to block out the pain in his stomach, his hand reaching out for his brother’s.
                          
“You ready to cross, Sammy?” Dean smiled, taking his baby brother’s hand. The road was clear, so it was safe, and Sam wriggled his little fingers in Dean’s hand. They were perched on the edge of the curb, hand in hand, the sun slowly setting into the afternoon. 
“I’m ready, Dean,” he replied, laughing, and they stepped onto the road, hurried steps echoing into the air.
                          
“Are you ready, Sammy?” Dean called out into their temporary house. He hates using the word ‘hotel’. Sam rushed out of his room, backpack on, hair messed. 
“Yeah, I’m ready,” he bit his lip nervously, “Is Dad up?”
“He’s out the front waiting,” Dean assured, and Sam sighed in relief. First day of school and he was starting a year late.
                          
“Are you sure you’re ready for this, Sam?” Dean asked, concerned. He held the gun in his hand, offering it to his brother. 
“Yes, Dean! You promised you’d teach me how to shoot,” he reassured, for the hundredth time, taking the weapon. 
“You’re a little young,” he bit his lip, worried, breath fogging in the night sky.
“Dad says I need to learn to protect myself, right?” Sam reminded him, pouting in the way that always makes him cave in. 
“Right,” he gave up, and took the safety off for him.
                          
"You ready to ice this son of a bitch?" Dean deadpanned, cocking his gun, glaring at the creature. 
                          
"As ready as I'll ever be, Dean," Sam smirked, watching his brother. Dean smiled at him, and turned back to glare at the creature. 
                          
“You ready, Sam?” Dean asked, putting the palm of his hand on Sam’s shoulder.
“Yeah, get it over with,” Sam winced and his brother nodded. 
“Okay… on three, ready? One… Two,” he counted, and snapped the bone back into place, making Sam cry out in pain. “Three,” he finished. 
“Thanks,” he said tightly, and Dean handed him a bottle of beer, taking the cap off his own and dropping it to the floor.
                          
“Ready?” Dean looked up at his brother, eyes filled with pain. 
“We going in there?”
“Guns blazing,” he confirmed, heart heavy, “We’re going to fight those sons of a bitches, okay? Till our last breath. You with me?”
“Till the very end,” Sam nodded, and pumped his shotgun.
                          
Sam opened his eyes again, when he felt his brother’s hand in his own, blood still pooling from both of their bodies. They lay sprawled out on the concrete, hearts slowing, body heat cooling. Cas’ empty and burned out vessel lay not too far away. Scorched wing marks spread from his mangled and bloody corpse. He took another shaky breath, barely keeping it enough to look over at his brother’s pale face. 
                          
“Sam,” he rasped, “Sammy, you gotta hold it together, please. Stay with me,” he begged.
                          
“You ready to cross, Dean?” Sam asked, squeezing his hand, looking for comfort. Dean smiled at him. 
                          
“I’m ready”
                          
A/N: Guys idk okay I was bored