Dean sat down, pondering stupid questions. It was better than having to face the shitty set of cards he held. But as always, he was betrayed by his wandering thoughts. His own brother was lost to a world that would never include him, and who was he to intrude on such happiness? He had no right, so he kept on thinking, trying desperately to distract himself. He always ended up on square one.

What if his brother loved him back? What if he was everything that Sam wanted? What if he had just learned to love properly? What if he just loved his brother, like a brother and nothing more?

Perhaps he could beg and pretend, and live in Sammy's shadow. Would that be better than living without him? Dean imagined, waking up every morning, next to a body that wasn't Sam's, making love to this person, caring for them, fighting with them, fighting for them. But really, could it be done? He knew the answer before he even finished proposing the question.

Sam was going to have to live in his past. There was no way Dean was getting anything he wanted now. He halfheartedly wished that he had held on tighter, but he knew that would not have done a thing.