journal-of-a-man-of-letters:

Sam Winchester’s Journal Entry #25

I let go and everything stops.

Just like that, just like Dean said it would.

The energy of the Trials seems to have left my body for good, and the only symptom that reminds me of its presence is a slight heat in my arms. The world has ceased to resonate, all the memories that have been haunting me for weeks are slowly disappearing, image after image, and this incredible wave I thought impossible to contain just a moment ago is now long gone.

God, it’s over, at last.

I take a deep breath, still resting against Dean’s shoulder, trying to calm down a bit but then…it’s back again, this pain in my chest, my arms, even stronger than before. I’m suffocating; I can’t see anymore, I have to…I…

Dean brings me outside in a hurry to breathe some fresh air, forgetting about Crowley still tied up to his chair in the middle the church, but this attempt is completely useless: my lungs are on fire and the ear-splitting noise outside makes me want to bang my head against the wall. I get the impression that war planes are bombing the forest while fireworks are being shot by the hundreds into the sky. It doesn’t make any sense, I don’t understand what’s happening. I’m almost blind and the only things I can decipher are white lights, falling, crashing and exploding everywhere around us.

Did Crowley finally manage to gather his troops? Are we under attack by an army of demons? I want to know what the hell is going on, even if this pain in my chest doesn’t leave me a second of relief to think straight. I’m grabbing my brother by the arm, begging him to answer, but the only words I can hear are but a whisper lost in the middle of the chaos:

“Angels, they are falling.”

*thud*….oh Sam…<weeping>….

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