This has been a long time coming, ever since I saw the finale. My reaction to watching said finale for the 4th time :)
5x21 - Bobby Singer


"What exactly are you afraid of? Losing or losing your brother?"

The amber liquid swirled around the glass as he moved it around at eye level. He had refused several women tonight even though he was looking for one to fuck and then move on; the first had the exact same shade of hair, the second had that scent of coffee and the third, well the third, had the piercing eyes he had. Sammy.

He swallowed the drink whole, no longer feeling the typical burn as it tumbled down his throat. He waved two fingers and the bartender was smart enough just to place his fifth drink in front of him instead of protesting.

Bobby's words echoed through his brain. When it came down to it he knew what the right answer was - the one his father would follow blindly, no matter how much it hurt - and he knew the answer that he would give. Sam. He would always come first.

And then, the two had combined. Lucifer took over Sam and he had already lost and was facing losing Sam forever.

He took the first sip of the new drink and relished the slight buzz it gave him for a few seconds. Anything to distract himself from the hole in his gut.

For fucks sake, it hurt to walk, it hurt to talk, it hurt to breathe. It just hurt.

It's okay Dean. It's going to be okay.

He felt the burn of tears and pushed them back with another gulp of whiskey.

In the end it wasn't Dean who saved the world. Who stopped the apocalypse. It was Sam. The demon child, the half blood, the abomination. He scoffed. Whoever believed that Sam couldn't stop the devil was an idiot; and he readily shoved himself into that category. He thought Sam would fail, I mean it was Lucifer! But Sam proved every single person - angel and demon alike - that he was the earth's saviour.

Dean took the final gulp of his drink then choked. He spluttered as his throat closed from the burn. The dirty alcohol splattered mirror which hung behind the alcohol in the bar held a reflection he hadn't seen in a long time. He turned sharply around and glanced out of the window, Sam was still leaning against the Impala, hands shoved into pockets self consciously just like he had when Dean had picked him up from Stanford all those years ago. He threw what was more than enough to cover his drink down on the counter and pushed past anyone and anything on his way to the car park.

The cold air hit him bitterly as soon as he stepped outside but the bitter disappointment hit him harder. He faltered when he saw no tall lanky figure and berated himself for tricking himself into believing Sam was still here and hadn't died two weeks previously.

He was about to slink back into the bar when something caught his eye. A large paper rested on the Impala's hood. He frowned and walked over to it. He tossed the rock that was weighing it down with disdain; how dare someone damage the last thing that held value in his life? He turned the paper over and discovered that it was a map. He squinted in the dim light as the edges blurred. He cursed drinking now before his eyes found the circle. It was small but highlighted a road. Lisa's road. Next to it, in Sam's chicken scratch was two words, 'you promised'.

With that, everything hit him. He had kept every single promise - whether it was an ice cream or to hide the Stanford letters - to Sam since he was young and he refused to let the last be the one he broke. His jaw tightened and he sobered quickly. He threw himself into the car and drove.

He would keep his promise to Sam no matter how much it hurt.