Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters in Supernatural and if I did I would probably die.

JARED AND JENSEN ARE JUST TO FREAKING AWESOME TO ACTUALLY HANDLE!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ENJOY!~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I place the ouija board on the wooden floor of dad's safe house. Once I get everything set up, knowing who I will cone into contact with; I slowly place my hands on the ouija and take a deep breath.

"Dean, are you there?" I ask tentatively. I feel the other side of the ouija and let out a held-in breath. But, my chest does not loosen. The ouija slowly goes over the word YES.

We go through the routine of what I've just done and how his baby is.

"I ganged a demon last week. Nasty son of a bitch. She had been around since the plague." I let out a scoff. "Once I got her in the devil's trap, she began to rattle off her smart mouth. I could hear your voice in the back of my head Dean, a response to each and every sentence that came out her damn mouth. I guess I am more like you than I thought." I shake my head feeling disbelief in my own words. "I felt bad for the human she possessed. So many deaths upon that girl's head when the demon killed so many more upon other's body's. She is probably going to end up in a crazy bin like the rest of 'em. Anyway, I begin the exorcism spell when she cuts me off by making a book fly and hit my head. Man, it hurt. It took me 45 minutes to send her ass back to hell but it was worth it. She had eyes like the crossroads demon; red." I turn my head back and forth, where the book hit me still hurts. "She went back to hell in Nebraska and damn it was cold. I was not expecting it to be below -10 degrees. I was in for a surprise. That sums up what I did last week."

We usually try to keep off the topic of Hell, so I move on to the next subject; his baby.

"The impala is the usual. No new douchiness like you ordered, I listen to your cassettes and not my IPod. I got her more gas and oil. Not the cheap oil like you taught me." Just the thought at Dean at my finger-tips. At the other end of the board. So close but so far. Talking about his car, sends a tear streaming down from my eye.

"It's almost Christmas. Remember how when we were little you always tried to cover for dad and Santa saying that Santa always comes and Dad will be home for Christmas, he wouldn't miss it for the world. But you knew he wasn't going to be here so you would snag some gifts from people down the street. The ones that are actually wrapped. Not just our cheap duct tape and newspaper wrapping?" To my surprise, Dean responds YES. "Man, you got me good one year, you took some girl gifts on 'accident'. So while you got GI Joe, I got Barbie and Pretty Pink Sparkles." I continue. "Man, I wish I could have one more crappy Christmas with you Dean." My voice begins to shake as more tears stream down my face. "I just want don't want to spend the holidays alone, without my brother. When we didn't have Dad, you were here for me. Now both of you are gone. I just want one more where you can give me skin mags and beer while I give you too-much-rum eggnog and something random while we watch Rudolf on the terrible motel television in the motel." I blink away more tears as my hands are glided through the ouija board. Dean spells out I-T-S SPACE O-K SPACE S-A-M-MY.

I can't stop the tears now. They just stream down my face.

"Dean, I don't know what to do. It's just me and Bobby. I have nothing to do all day besides hunting. It's not like I can pick up a girl like you can." I let out a scoff and a smile that does not last long. "I want to quit hunting Dean. It was me and you. Not just me or you. You were my motivation. Hell, I'd be a big-shot lawyer if you didn't pick me up. You were what kept me going and hunting was the one thing we had in common. Now without you, I'm lost. I always wanted to be like you Dean. I always looked up to you. Who doesn't worship their big brother right? There is no you to look up to. I want to settle down and have a family. Maybe if I get lucky, I will meet a hunter and fall in love. But that is not very likely so I think I want to go back to Kansas and settle down. I'll become a mechanic. I am sick of riding the impala alone. I'm sick of carrying enough for two when there is only one of me. Everything reminds me of you, hunting, the impala, pie, burgers, Bobby, everything. I just want it all to stop." I want to take my hands off the ouija board and just wipe my eyes, run my hands through my hair, and go back to Bobby's.

Whenever I talk to Dean on the ouija board, the conversation is very one-sided. It's always me doing all of the talking. It's not like Dean has the patience to spell out each and every snarky comment. It just seems like me talking to myself most of the time. But to me it is much more. It is the closest I can get to Dean without actually dying. It is a way for me and Dean to stay brothers. It is a way to drag Dean away for five minutes from Hell and come talk with me; his little brother. Dean once told me, "We are brother's Sammy and nothing is going to ever change that."

With a quick motion, the ouija drags my hand over GOODBYE and I can no longer feel his hands over the other side. I take my hands off the board knowing that he won't come back until next week. Sometimes the demons rake Dean away to go back to torturing him or whatever those son of a god damn bitches do with him.

I stand up and wipe the tears on my shoulders. I take the ouija board back over to the mantel and head to the impala.

As I ease into the driver's side of the sleek black car, I turn it on and flick to Dean's favorite station. Just my luck, the song is, "Carry on Way Word Son". I cry some more. I bash my head against the wheel, but none of this is bringing Dean back. The next song comes on, "Eye of the Tiger." I can just see Dean doing air drums to this. I go to the back trunk and get some beers and a blanket. I'm sleeping in the car tonight