Lost without you
It really hadn't occurred to Sam that his brother would be pissed off about him retiring from hunting. Sam felt like he had no choice - he thought Dean was dead again for fuck's sake, so why would he keep doing something that only served as a reminder of what he'd lost? He'd already been through that twice and he knew without a doubt that he wouldn't survive a third time. After Jake had taken Sam away from his brother, Dean was reckless and desperate – he couldn't live without Sam, by his own admission. This was no different – the simple fact was that Sam couldn't live that life without Dean in it.
Not a day went by that it didn't hurt to think about his brother, to wonder exactly what had happened to him and what he was going through now. Eventually, Sam decided he'd rather not know – given what both of them had been through in their trips to Hell, it was the safest way to keep what sanity he had left.
Amelia was unexpected, and a distraction from his grief – a right time, right place kinda thing. He'd tell Dean that, he'd make him understand that there was only so much that one man could stand, but Sam knew his brother needed time to get his head around things. Dean would stay pissed at him until he'd adjusted to being back, and in a way he guessed that was justified. Sam would explain things when his brother was more rational. That'd also give him time to work out exactly how to get Dean to understand... it wasn't a simple thing, but then whoever said the life of a Winchester was simple?
After Dean died in his arms on the Wednesday that followed so many months worth of Tuesdays courtesy of the Trickster, Sam slept, ate and hunted on auto-pilot. The familiarity of things he'd spent most of his life doing filled the days, and gave him no pleasure, but he did them because he had nothing else. Dean was gone and Sam was lost without him. There was no telling how long it would've been before he snapped out of his daze and thought about what he would do in the future. Looking back, he supposed that it would've been much like when Dean did actually die and go to Hell, and he would not let himself go back down that route.
Having Dean die in his arms again after the Hell hounds came for him was like having a piece of himself torn out. Whilst Dean's chest was ripped wide open, blood ran from the wounds. Sam's chest had no visible wounds, but they were there. Deep, aching and burning. Dean's final year seemed like a distant memory over the days and weeks that followed. Sam's grief had been so crippling that every day hurt more. He tried to block it out with booze and pills, and offering himself up at any available crossroads, but of course nothing worked. There was Ruby, but everyone knew what a fuck up that was.
Shortly after Dean disappeared this time, vanishing into thin air after they were rid of the Leviathans and leaving Sam all alone yet again, he knew he wouldn't - couldn't - carry on living that life. Hunting without Dean just wasn't an option this time. When Sam went to the cage, Dean went to Lisa and had a slice of a normal life... that's all Sam could do when he lost his brother. So yeah, he gave up hunting. He did exactly what Dean had done, a new life with a woman who loved him. Maybe Sam's life with Amelia would've been enough, or maybe after a while he'd realise that he could never move on from the loss of his brother no matter what he did. Maybe he'd become the mess he was after Dean went to Hell, maybe he'd find out if it really was possible to die from a broken heart.
Stood at that cabin door looking at his brother, the man he loved and thought he'd never see again, Sam's future was set. Dean could be angry at his brother's decision to give up hunting all he liked, it wouldn't change the fact that Sam had to do it. Now though Dean was back, they were back. The Winchester brothers side by side...saving people, hunting things together... exactly where they belong.
~ FIN ~