How It Could Have Been
It seemed as though the sky itself was crying the day that Sam Winchester was laid to rest. On a cold and rainy October morning the churchyard was filled with people who knew and loved the kind-hearted twenty four year old. People, who Sam had saved, people who were his friend. Every generation from baby to grandparents all wanted to say their final words to Sammy.
Among the many mourners was Dean Winchester, the elder brother and best friend of Sam. They had sacrificed their childhood for others as Sam had his life. Sam hadn't wanted the life he'd lived, but his need to stay with Dean and honour their parents name had spurred him on. They would never see eachother again, not until it was Dean's turn to leave, leave the planet that Sam had helped protect for so long. He was not going to rid himself of life like he felt he needed to but he was going to do what his brother would have wanted. He was going to make him proud of him, no matter where he was, heaven or earth, he would make him proud.
Dean stared intently at the lowering coffin, through teary eyes. For it was his life that was descending into the cold ground that day, his last family member, his closest companion.
Everyone was mourning in their own way, some cried, others didn't but it didn't mean that they thought less of Sam, they just grieved differently.
The remaining Winchester looked over to his left side. Standing there with his own tears in his eyes was Bobby Singer, a man who was practically a father to the boys, especially when their actual Dad had died. He'd known the truth about what they did since he was brought into it a few years before Sam was born. Dean then looked over to his right, Ellen Harvelle, the owner of the Roadhouse and the nearest thing to a mother that Sam had known, she too knew the truth, her deceased husband had been a close friend of John Winchester's. Now things were different, now Dean was alone, not knowing if he should continue with his hunting life or just turn his back on it like he and Sam had recently planned, the Demon was dead, their job was done, Dean only wished they'd started weeks ago, or even not gone on that last hunt. Could he really give up though, when it had been his life, minus four years?
Everyone from Sam's old college friends to familiar hunters were surrounding the grave, some hadn't seen Sam for years, others just days.
Dean continued to watch the coffin. It had all happened so suddenly. One minute he was ruffling Sam's hair and teasing him, the way only big brothers could get away with, the next he was encouraging his little brother to keep on breathing for just a few more minutes.
But Sam had been too injured, the blood had started to trickle from Sam's mouth and down his chin. It had been steadily oozing from the lacerations across his stomach and chest for the past few minutes and was pooling around the embracing brothers. His breathing was slowing but Dean rocked him as he spoke unwavering words of encouragement.
But they weren't enough, it was too much strain on Sammy's weary body and Bobby found them, minutes later, Dean crying and rocking his lifeless younger brother, for it was not the first time he had held his brother as the life left him, but it was the last. He had no soul to trade this time.
Dean looked down at the dark leather band on his wrist, Sam's band which he had never taken off. He twisted it from side to side, thinking about the times it had caught his eye on Sam's slender wrist. Dean felt an arm wrap around his shoulders, he looked up to see Ellen pulling him into a hug. He accepted it, uncharacteristically and fell into her arms sobbing, "I miss him Ellen, I miss him so much, I need him."
"I know, sweetie, I know, but it's okay, we're here for you" she soothed, rubbing his back.
Dean pulled away slightly, no words coming to his lips.
"Honey, you don't have to worry about anything except yourself, it would be what Sam would have wanted."
Dean nodded, though he couldn't think about himself right then.
"He was so excited about setting up a new life, away from hunting" Dean sniffed, his lip quivering.
"I know he was" she took Dean's hand and placed it over his heart, "but he's still here."
Dean nodded and watched as the casket finally reached the ground and people started placing flowers around it. He saw a little girl with her arm in plaster place a bunch of white gerberas with a tag saying 'thank you Sam.' She got up, her long, dark hair soaked, her big hazel eyes teary and trudged back to her mum. Dean noticed her as the little girl that Sammy had carried, last May, from a burning building.
The crowd started to break up and there was only a few people left, Dean walked over to the grave and knelt down placing a single red rose next to the gerberas.
"I hope you can hear me. I think you can, you did always listen so intently to me, even when you couldn't talk. I miss you Sammy, I miss you more than you could ever imagine. I miss hearing your voice, and seeing your smile and puppy-dog eyes, god, I'd do anything to see them again. I need you right now" he took a shaky breath "I never thought the day would come that I had to say goodbye, but then again I don't see this as a goodbye because I know you are still in my heart and will stay engraved there forever. I will come here, every day, honest, you're my little brother, but also my best friend and the only constant in my life since Mom died. If I don't come here one day, don't worry about me, I'm probably up to my eyes in something, but if I don't turn up for days then I might be able to see you again, I might be with you wherever you are right now. I'm sorry I didn't save you, I'm sorry I failed when I promised I'd look out for you forever. I wish it was me down there, not you. Say hi to Mom and Dad for me, I'll be back tomorrow, I love you little brother, I just wish I'd said it more often."
Dean stood up and started to walk back to Bobby and Ellen, looking back once at the coffin and wondering how it could have been.