
And he has a vision, sparkling like the liquor in the bottle, shot through with light and promise, with never an even surface. It is Eternity, Dean here in front of him, covered in red, his teeth white as he laughs with Sam, his eyes so damn green in that clear unspeakable shade, and Sam will always have Dean next to him, under him, with him, inside him, forever and a day, that edge of time that is never reached because Sam doesn’t fucking care anymore and Sam will always have Dean, his tongue dotted with Dean’s blood and his soul stitched into Dean’s bones, missing nothing except the thrill of the perfect shot, the sound of an explosion, the way people think they can take them in a fight and end up broken and crying since Dean is his other half, his other hand who holds a gun and holds his heart. Fuck, he loves it all, loves his brother so very much. It’s never going to change.
(x)