Dean still waits. He knows it's stupid, that it never will happen again, but some small shred of him hangs onto the hope.
It wasn't a year. It was three. Three years since Sam had gone into the cage. Three years since Sam had died.
A broken shell of a man showed up at Lisa's step. That man often awoke from nightmares. He was suspicious of everyone around him. He would vent in random bursts of rage. In short, he was not at all desirable to be around.
All that changed overnight about eight months into that visit.
Gone was the broken man. Gone were the nightmares. Overnight he became a better person.
Dean never will say what happened.
But he still waits and hopes for the whooshing of the TARDIS.