Please, please, please don't think of committing suicide. It's not worth it. Life may get worse, but it could get better. You just have to give it time and search for that reason to keep join. I will be here if you need someone to talk to, about anything at all. 

Now... for the story. I'll do as many characters in this as possible, but I'm only on the 8th season. The video above is the My R Supernatural animatic that inspired me. I recommend watching it! 

Please guys, take care of yourself... Here we go~

Dean hated it. He despised it beyond words.

Dean Winchester was alone. Completely and utterly alone. Cas couldn't save him anymore. Sam could no longer have his back. They were gone. Tortured, left bleeding out until the point of no return. Still, Dean was left with the worst torture; being left alive, the visions of everyone he's ever carried about being killed, the images being burned into his brain.

Once left to his own mind, the lone hunter didn't know if things could become any worse. Practically no time passed as he sound himself with the barrel of a gun aimed at his skull, his own clammy hand prepared to pull the trigger.Dean hated it. He despised it beyond words.

Dean Winchester was alone. Completely and utterly alone. Cas couldn't save him anymore. Sam could no longer have his back. They were gone. Tortured, left bleeding out until the point of no return. Still, Dean was left with the worst torture; being left alive, the visions of everyone he's ever carried about being killed, the images being burned into his brain.

Once left to his own mind, the lone hunter didn't know if things could become any worse. Practically no time passed as he sound himself with the barrel of a gun aimed at his skull, his own clammy hand prepared to pull the trigger.

Sight went dark as Dean's eyes were shut tight. A single shaky finger added pressure to the cold metal of the trigger. 

No sound was heard as the hunter opened his eyes in a new place. 

Stairs. That's what he saw. They ascended, leading to a closed door. As confused as he was, Dean was far too aware that it wouldn't be anything like Heaven. 

Steps echoed as Dean moved up and up, a hand hesitantly reaching to the door knob. It was cold, which surprised the now-ex hunter. He was expecting everything to be burning up. It was more surprising how easily the hinges moved, swinging the door open. 

His green orbs squinted to adjust to the sudden light... the sun? Sunlight? Where am I? Dean asked himself, before noticing the figure in front of him. They stood with their back to Dean, though it wouldn't take much difficulty to recognize who it was.

The figure, which was soon recognized to be crying, was the vessel of Lucifer himself. The way he kept himself up was still enough proof that Satan was still there, present in the being.

Something inside of Dean switched as he noticed just how close the broken angel was to the edge, his gaze baring down on the roads below. It was like a scene from Sherlock. A scream ripped through his throat before he knew what he was doing. 

"Don't!"