So this is where it ends then?
It must be nearly midnight now, pitch black outside save for one miserable streetlight putting us on display for the entire neighborhood's enjoyment. I don't care though – not about the old lady watching from behind the blinds, not about your friend who'll be laughing about your crazy brother later, or the rain, or the cold – I run out into the street and grab your arm, and I beg you. Sam, please don't go. Please, Sammy.
But you pull away, eyes harder than I've ever seen them, and for a second, I could almost swear they're black. I've already lost you, been losing you all along, and you're not even gone yet! Where did I mess up? I ask you that, because I really want to know. What did I do wrong? What did I do to make you leave? Because I'll change Sammy. I swear. I'll do anything to keep you with me, to protect you and keep you safe.
Remember that night – nothing special about it – just the two of us passing the time waiting for dad to get back from a hunt? Yeah, that night. The night I told you I loved you. You probably don't remember, and I don't think I've said it in so many words since. Forgive me for that please Sam; I'm saying it now and I'm trying not to embarrass you, I really am, but I have to say it. "I love you," So please, please don't leave me. I have no idea what I would do if you left.
I never thought you were serious about leaving. I deluded myself into thinking that the college applications were just to fit in, or some passing fancy, maybe even just a frivolous indulgence just to see if you could. I didn't think you were serious! If I'd known Sam… if only I'd known. But why? Was hunting – was dad – really that bad?
You two always fought, never knowing or caring how that left me caught in the middle. All I wanted was for you to stop fighting, and I guess I got my wish, huh? Better be careful for what you wish for Dean, right? But why? Why does it have to include me? I know you don't get along with dad, but leaving him, you're leaving me too. Why can't I be enough to make you stay Sammy? I'd do anything to be enough for you – don't you know that? Just say the word. Please.
But you walk away. You head for the car, puddles soaking the bottom of your jeans before you climb in, ducking because you're so tall. The door shuts angrily behind you, a disproportionate bang that can't possibly be how you feel. You can't possibly hate us that much. Please Sammy, tell me you don't. But you stare straight ahead through the foggy windshield, head held steady and shoulders set. No regrets. Not now.
The boy you're with starts the car again, and I really hope the engine doesn't just roll over and die on you, because it sounds terrible. It's running now though, and he grins at you as he puts it in drive. I don't think you replied to him, but you don't look back either. And then the car is headed down the street, out of sight, out of our lives – and it's taking you with it.
I like to pretend that I saw you turn, that you looked back at me standing there in the rain, thankful for the camouflage. You didn't though, Sammy. You never looked back.