Woohoo! Two stories in one week. I'm good. Or maybe just obsessed *shrugs*. Well actually this one is more of a glimpse, something that popped into my mind when it suddenly started to snow. Season 6 is getting to me and I suffer along with the boys *sigh* Okay and now I stop rambling. Hope you enjoy! HS

Dear Sam,

You're sitting next to me and I pretend that everything's alright. That everything's just how it used to be. I'm taking the lead and you're following. I'm driving the Impala and you're riding shotgun. The music you hate fills the car and if I would feel like singing I would annoy you with my qualities. But the thing is – you wouldn't be annoyed. And nothing is like it used to be. Because you're not my brother.

At the moment you couldn't care less and that's why you're following my lead. My brother would fight me, would try to get his will with all his might, never caring if it actually made sense or not. My brother would ask me to get the keys of the Impala, would nag me over and over until I would finally give in. My brother would make some nasty comment on my music taste and he would beg me stop singing already. Because if you were my brother, I would want to sing.

You know, the thing is – it wasn't your confession that made me finally admit that to myself. Hell, of course I knew that something had been off with you. And after Cas found out that crap with your soul gone missing, I had a prove. But still I wanted to see you so desperately that I tried to close my eyes on the inevitable truth.

…Where was I? Ah, yes… your confession. I won't deny that it hurt like a bitch to hear those words from you. Not that I wasn't aware of it before …because just one look into your eyes and I knew you didn't care. Not for me, not for the world, not for anyone. But to just hear it spoken so bluntly really crushed me. But it didn't break me. Because somewhere deep down I couldn't believe that my little brother was still gone. Just after I thought I had him back.

You know what broke me? The damnedest thing, really. If you were actually my brother, you would probably laugh. But then again – maybe if you really were, you wouldn't.

"Sam! Hold on a minute, would ya? See? The first snow this year…it's snowing, Sammy…"

"…So?"

"…."

"Dean? You're alright?"

"…never mind…"

You used to love the snow, remember Sammy?

Right at that moment you were staring at me, a blank look in your once soulful eyes and the horrible truth hit me like I'd not known that the most important part of you was missing. My world came crashing down and I felt like you had died all over again. Just because of some fucking frozen water.

"Dean? What's wrong? You're….crying…"

"…fuck off Sam."

I simply turned around and walked away, knowing you would follow me anyway. Because that was what your brain was telling you to do. Rationally. Like you telling me that you want the old Sam back. The old Sam who loved the snow. The old Sam who let me lose my composure in front of his shell because contrary to you, my memories actually mean something to me. I'm sure you remember that little Sammy loved the first day of snow more than any other time of the year. He squealed like a little girl as soon as the first flakes had emerged from the sky and his eyes started to shine in ways yours forgot how to. I never stood a chance against him, as he pulled me out with him, every damn year, to witness, to feel the tiny frozen droplets of water gently sweeping towards us. And even if I hated the snow because that meant it would soon be too cold to be wearing that neat leather jacket I inherited from Dad, for Sammy's sake I just had to love it. Because there had only been so many things left that could make my little brother's eyes shine. And that meant everything to me.

Still does, actually. And for months now I've been waiting for your eyes to show me some emotion and subconsciously I've laid all my bets on the first snow. Silly me. You're not my brother. And even though you say you want to do everything to get him back, I'm scared you won't let him back in, once we found him. Or worse that there is nothing left to be found. Because I know a soul is a fragile thing, shattered so easily. Especially one as tender as yours – sorry – his. As fragile as the tiny flakes that used to melt on the smiling face of my little brother.

I want to see that smile so badly.

So please…don't destroy that last ray of hope as you have done with the gentle memory of the first snow.

Dean

So that's it. Short, but not too short I think. But more importantly...what do YOU think? Please leave feedback, I would really appretiate it:) - love HS