Sam jumps in the hole and goes to hell. Castiel sees the light and goes to heaven. And as for Dean, Dean has to stay on earth and try to live.
The first year is rough to say the least. Nightmares, panic attacks, paranoia, and simple plain grief make him almost unbearable to live with. Lisa tries to be patient, tries to understand what he's been through, tries to listen when he needs it and stay away when he doesn't. But she's a mother first and she promises herself that the first time Dean's self-destruction starts to affect Ben, Dean has got to go.
Time goes by and Dean never falters in his warm treatment of her son, and Lisa stops holding that breath she's held since he turned up a wreck on her doorstep. And honestly, after the first year, Dean gets better. He's a father to Ben, he's a lover to her, he gets up every morning and goes to work, and that's impressive. She knows that's more than most people could take.
Dean works hard, he's fairly smart when he cares to be, he's good with his hands, and he earns his inevitable promotions. Two sources of income give Ben more opportunities, and Lisa more time to relax. They prosper.
And the darkness creeps away for a while. Sam never comes back. Dean never hunts again. A strange person who looks like a man, but feels like something Lisa cannot even fathom shows up in their yard to tell Dean a story she cannot understand about a war in heaven and a heroic sacrifice that saves the world. Dean doesn't shed a tear, but he shakes like a leaf when the creature hands him a bloodstained trench coat.
Before Lisa knows it she wakes up and she's pulling grey hairs from her temples. Ben is bringing home girlfriends and Dean's teaching him to drive. It seems unbelievable that they've managed to just live for so long. Lisa panics every month or so that it's not real, that they should be doing something more, that they should be in therapy or something. But Dean is getting by. He quits drinking. He makes friends. He still kisses her like there's a fire inside of him.
Soon, the doctor is telling him to watch his cholesterol and cut out fats. Lisa expects an argument, a protest, an outright defiance. But Dean eats whatever is on his plate with a smile. He says it tastes fine. She wonders if he's tasted anything in years.
Ben goes to college and then Dean really starts fading. Without his fatherly duties, Dean's smiles become hollow. He takes long solitary walks at night. When they go out for drinks with friends his laugh is strange and his eyes are cold.
One night he takes off with barely a word to her, driving his old car, and he doesn't return for a week. She feels him get up in the night and he doesn't come back to bed for hours. On his birthday he tells her that he never would have believed he could live this long.
And somehow, Lisa cannot do anything. She's a passive spectator, caught up the trappings of life. Her concerns, her creeping sense of dread, stay unvoiced.
It's Ben's senior year at college and he's obviously in love when he comes home for winter break. Lisa isn't sure Ben's elation is responsible, but something changes that Christmas. From the moment Ben walks in the door, Dean is animated. He jokes, he roars with laughter, he sneaks candy and teases Lisa. When Dean is happy, it's infectious. Every moment spent in his company is a pleasure, he sparkles with good cheer.
On Christmas morning, he wakes up early like a child and prepares steaming mugs of hot chocolate for when Lisa and Ben trail downstairs at a decent hour. Every gift he receives makes him whoop with delight. His exuberance spreads and soon they're all in hysterics.
The last present they dig out from under the tree is for Ben. He tears off the wrapping and rips open the box. However, when he sees what's inside, he stops laughing. A look of curiosity passes over his face when he holds up a little golden amulet with an old leather cord. The amulet is cool and weathered, but still shows the faint carvings of a little idol. Dean holds Ben's hand and tells him that Sam gave him the amulet when they were young as a Christmas gift and now he's passing it along. He explains that he'd lost it for a long time, but now it's found.
Ben's eyes get a little misty and he hugs Dean tightly. Lisa is suddenly overwhelmed with such a strong feeling of love that she tears up as well. She kisses Dean slowly, his mouth familiar, but still passionate. She runs a hand through his hair and thinks that maybe he's finally been found as well.
That night they make love and he buries his face in her hair and whispers thank you for so many good years that he'd never dreamed were possible.
When Ben finally has to pack up and leave, she starts to notice it again. The smile never reaches Dean's eyes, he's quiet for hours, he stares into space and forgets the world around him. Lisa lets her son go back and watches Dean go back to the dark place he so frequently returns to now.
It's about a month after Christmas. A light rain has been falling all day, but by nightfall it's turned into a real storm. Lisa goes to bed early, Dean stays up reading. She's almost asleep when she senses vaguely that he's come into the room. She feels his weight on the bed as he sits down. He's not dressed for bed, wearing an ancient leather jacket and jeans. He bends down and Lisa lies silently, feigning sleep. His lips brush her cheek and his hand strokes her hair. Then he's gone.
Lisa sits up and listens for a moment. She hears a motor start out in the garage, the impala, and in a moment she catches a glimpse of headlights out on the road. She sighs and sinks back into the warmth of her bed.
The knock wakes her up. She walks to the door, confused, tired. Her feet are cold. She opens the door. She knows the cop standing there, hands folded in front of him. He came to their cookout last Fourth of July. She knows him, but she can't understand what he's saying. Words about car accidents and wet roads and running right off of a bridge. She doesn't understand.
Ben is devastated when he comes home for the funeral. To him it is a senseless tragedy, but Lisa knows better. She knows that the local cops knew Dean, liked Dean, and purposefully ignored certain evidence in ruling the death accidental. No road is slick enough to warrant a perfect ninety-degree turn off of a bridge.
She wants to be angry with Dean for leaving her when she misses him so much. She wants to be furious, but she can't be upset over a crash that she's been watching in slow motion for so many years. How can she reconcile this? Would he have been better off without them, back on the road hunting? Was it even worth the effort?
Eventually, as Lisa grows old alone, she decides that it doesn't matter. They'd lived a life and that was the best they could do. Left behind on earth, Lisa prays for a sign. She doesn't care that he died; she just cares where he is now. She's heard enough mumbled nightmares about hell to know that it's real. She'd followed his instructions about cremation closely enough to know about other alternatives. The unknowable is all that is left to torment her. She understands at last the agony of being abandoned by the dead.
It's a Friday the day the doctor calls her with the biopsy results. She doesn't have the heart just then to call Ben or her sister or anyone. She sits for a moment and breathes. Lisa goes to bed early.
And that night she has the most amazing, wonderful dream about fireworks.