This was what he wanted. He wanted Dean to be happy, to have the family he always wanted, he'd said as much to Bobby and Dean barely an hour ago. Had been saying it to himself for a year, every time he wanted to go back (on his promise to Dean, to himself, both, either).
There was a part of him that said he hadn't come back not for that reason, that it had nothing to do with selflessness and a desire to let his older brother go. He'd been scared, he was still scared, because even if his numb (almost inhuman) state made him nervous sometimes, at least it kept him alive, and sane, and moving. But Dean would ask and Dean would press and not understand why he couldn't be the bleeding-heart little brother that Dean would recognize, and for a year Sam had been scared to face that.
And now he'd faced it, and remembered just a little what it felt like to have something exist outside yourself, and it was good.
And then it was gone.
So would you, Dean said, and Sam tried to make him understand the way it didn't, couldn't matter, and the Campbells weren't going to teach him to remember that, but Dean would, Dean did. No, I wouldn't, he said, but he could see in Dean's face that he didn't hear or didn't understand.
And just like he had before, after Lucifer first waltzed into the world, Sam walked away again. It felt the same, even if he technically had somewhere to go and the devil wasn't chasing him. But again, there wasn't anything left to say.
Keep in touch, Dean said, and of course, Sam managed, because of course that would have been the thing to do, but what would he say if he did?
Dean moved on. Dean had Lisa and Ben to think about.
Maybe a year ago, Sam could have said more. Maybe a year ago, it would have mattered. But that's a year gone, lost, and Dean doesn't know him anymore (and that's all right, Sam doesn't know himself anymore either) and you can't go back on this sort of thing. Can't ever go back to the way you were.
It would just be nice if.
(And how many sentences has he started like that, in these past years, how many times has he said just that and stopped because if wishes were fishes.)
Please, he could say. Remind me how to be myself. There's no one else who can.
But Dean hates chick flick moments, and this is what he wants. Sam couldn't possibly say no to that. All he has to do is remind himself.
This is what he wanted.
He gets in the car. It's just like after every job Before, leaving the living behind after they've been saved, and that's right, isn't it? Dean, the living; Sam, the dead.
Just has to remember. This is what he wanted.
(Just not what he wants.)