It was two weeks after Dean's confession to his brother that he got back on the road again. Alone. This was not the first time he had driven the car without its usual passenger, but that still didn't change the fact that Dean was uncomfortable with the idea. In fact, at times, he would catch himself turning his head and beginning to talk to his absent brother.
Since his recent departure he had entered a state of self-loathing. Albeit, one that he made a habit of slipping into. But there was one thing that always kept his mind busy, one thing that made him forget about everything else and focus on the goal in front of him. Hunting. This information was not a secret, at least, not to his brother.
Stepping harder on the gas pedal, Dean sped down the open road. Free to drive away at his heart's content with the lack of cars in front of him. That is, until a certain angel showed up.
"Dean," Cas said. Dean flinched. No way would he ever get used to that.
"How did you find me?" He asked, "I thought I was disguised or something."
Cas didn't answer.
Dean looked to his right and expected to see the angel absently staring off into the distance, as usual. Instead, his head was in his hands.
"Cas, what's wrong?"
He only shook his head as a reply, before finally looking up, seemingly exasperated.
"I don't know what happened, Dean. I thought I healed him, I thought he was okay. He wouldn't have done that if he were fine. Not after what I said to him, not after what he said to me. Did something go wrong? Did I fail? He was my friend, he wouldn't have done that if he were my friend. Maybe-"
It was at this point that Cas was rambling. He was shaking his head as he spoke, ranting incoherent sentences that Dean could hardly string together.
"Cas, what is going on?" Dean demanded, interrupting him. His stern tone brought Cas to attention.
Cas looked up, his face contorted with a certain pain and confusion that Dean had never seen before.
"I'm sorry, Dean."
"Cas, if you don't tell me what the hell is going on-"
"Sam's gone."
He kept his head down, not daring to elaborate. Dean sighed and laid back, keeping one arm on the steering wheel and the other spread across the seat.
"Alright, where'd he disappear off to this time?" Dean said, showing vexation. Despite being annoyed at his brother's apparent desertion, he was a little worried too.
"No, Dean," Cas said, still refusing to face him, "He's gone. He-he shot himself."
Dean saw Cas look up just then and face him, and it was then that Dean knew. Just by looking in his eyes. Sam was really, truly, dead. There was no bringing him back.
He pulled over to the side of the road.
"Take me to him," Dean said. Cas was confused.
"Dean, I said he was-"
"I know, just take me to him. Now."
Cas did as he was told, and placed a hand on his shoulder.