Sam was more then an alcoholic while Dean was in Hell, drugs made the time pass a little easier as well.
Dean was smiling, the bright sunlight shining on his bright green eyes as he laughed. Sam heard his laughter, it seemed to echo in his mind, never fading away back into the memories. For now Dean was real, for now Dean was alive.
Sam took another hit from the bowl, holding the thick smoke in his lungs and allowing the drug to kill a few more of his brain cells. He grabbed the container of cough syrup next to him, three empty bottles lying beside it. He finished to last swig, his face scrunching in disgust at the gritty taste. He chased it with a shot of 151, the burn an ease to his pain.
The dark and disgusting motel room, the reek of mold, alcohol and smoke faded away as he found himself in the room with Dean. The hallucination was a good one this time, strong and real.
The room changed and shifted before Sam. They were just sitting on the couch, nothing special really. The room was small and simple, a TV another chair, a door and four white walls. One picture was hung, it was a painting of violets and roses, one lay dying while the others were in full beautiful bloom. Everything was normal, except Sam felt as if they were floating. Actually, he felt like the whole damn galaxy lay outside the small room they were in, and just this room was floating around in space. He let his eyes sweep the room, which in itself seemed to take hours, each thing dragging slowly by.
The nice thing about being here was Sam didn't feel anything. He had not one emotion, it was just an escape from the pain. And Dean was here, which was nice. Sam looked at him, Deans face blurring in and out.
"Hey Sammy." He said simply, his voice as clear as ever, the sound almost accented, a pleasant thing to Sam's ear.
"Hey Dean." Sam responded, softly, almost afraid if he spoke it would break this plane of existence.
"Ya know Sammy, I would never want you to do this to yourself." Dean said simply, turning on the TV as he did so, the old Wolfman movie came on.
Sam was silent. He didn't know how long he was silent for, because time didn't exist here. His face was scrunched in concentration, yet he was thinking about absolutely nothing, his mind was still and silent, and he loved it, but he had to think of something to respond to Dean with.
"I know. But I like it here." The words seeming to echo in a large space that didn't exist, Sam sweeping the room once again, the violets and roses seeming to grow larger before him.
"But they need you… out there." Dean said simply.
Sam met his brothers eyes, they seemed to be the only thing he could see now, crystal clear and so full of desperation. Each flick of color around the pure black pupil sparked and shimmered, the soft lashes blinking occasionally as the two just stared at one another.
Sam heard the door open, loud and creaky, almost over bearing, it made him cringe.
"I'll be seeing ya around… Sammy."
Dean was by the door now. How he had gotten there, Sam could not recall, but it was open, and outside of it, lay the galaxy.
Stars shined brightly, swirls of debris floated in a lax matter, planets spun in orbit, and Dean stood before all of it, that sad smile looking back at Sam before a bright light shined in, so bright Sam had to cover his eyes, and when he looked back, Dean was gone.
Sam sat there for a long while. He should be sad Dean was gone, but he didn't really feel anymore. And he couldn't really think, he could only sit there, numb and unfeeling. And he was okay with that, because as long as he didn't feel, he didn't have to deal with the loss of his brother.
Only when the drugs were gone, did he feel like dying.