The Last Time

She saw a fork of lightning behind his shoulder, no more than a few miles off. It would be a good idea to move out soon. Standing on a hill under a tree in a storm wasn’t the dumbest thing they had done, but it wasn’t the wisest at this point. Dean followed her gaze, then looked back at her. He opened his mouth to say something, but she gently touched his cheek to silence him. He put his hand over hers, holding it to his face. He blinked away his own tears welling, taking in a shaky breath. She smiled at him, and pulled away. She went around the front of the Impala, meaning to get in.

“Wait,” Dean said finally. She turned back, quickly wiping away a traitorous tear that had slipped down her cheek. He stumbled, searching for the right thing to say.

“We don’t have time to wait anymore, Dean,” she said softly as thunder rumbled closer.

“Just-can we-” he stammered. “Let’s just stay here a few more minutes.”

She turned her face up to the sun once more, a smiling curling the corners of her mouth. “If I could freeze this moment and live here forever I would.” She looked at him with her smoky eyes, tugging at his heart strings. “But I can’t. We have to go meet Sam. It’s now or never, Dean.”

He chewed his lip, and took another sip from the bottle of whiskey before putting it in the back seat. “It doesn’t have to be like this, though. There is another way-”

“And that way is sure to get us all killed. I can’t let that happened, not to you two.”

“Don’t be so noble!” He said more forcefully than he meant.

She shook her head. “You and I both know this is the way it has to be. I’m barely human now as it is-”

“Bullshit!” He spat, approaching her. “We know how to cure you; we can stop Crowley, and save you if you just let us!”

“Why are you so hell-bent on saving me? Even if you tried, there’s a good chance I’ll die anyway.”

“It’s better than doing nothing.”

“I’d rather die than end the world. I’d rather die than hurt you.”

“And I’d rather die than lose you!”

Marceline looked at him, her eyes a mix of confusion and pain. “Why would you say that?”

Dean bit his lip again, shuffling on the spot. His chest ached with every breath. He took her hand, twining his fingers in hers as he pulled her to his chest. “Because I love you,” he breathed, shaking with frustration. “And I’m sick to death of losing the ones I love.”

                Before Marceline could reply, he crushed his mouth to hers, pulling her hips to his. She tried to pull away, but her breaking heart fought her. She melted in his arms, kissing him back fiercely. She felt like crying like a baby, curling into his arms and weeping but choked back the tears.