He's gone.
The words resonate through Dean's mind like the buzzing of a thousand bees, their sting just as powerful. Benny's body lay in front of him, a horrifying reminder of what he had just done. The initial reaction is shock; shock that Benny was willing to sacrifice himself, shock that he had given his life to save Sammy, shock that he was actually gone. Dean piles into the Impala without so much as a glance back; he knows it will hurt too much. He drives aimlessly for a while, passing street signs and stoplights, restaurant boards advertising glutinous amounts of fried food. But he just keeps driving.
Pulling the car up to the top of a hill outside of town, Dean gets out, his legs still shaking a bit, the normally burning light behind his emerald eyes gone. He takes keep under a large oak tree, kneeling by its roots. There's a knot in his chest the size of Texas, and a lump in his throat to match. In a sudden fit of pain, he pounds his fists on the ground, a guttural scream escaping him. Tears flooded his eyes, falling in rivers down his freckled cheeks. He bowed his head to the ground, his forehead dirtying in the dust and dirt. He stayed that way for what seemed like hours, sobbing with all his might.
Finally gaining his composure some time later, he sat up, his stomach churning and his nose dripping. Pulling himself together, he got back in the car, driving back to the place he was staying. But the whole way there, he could only dream of driving to Maine, of going into Benny's home and waiting for him there, even if he was there for the rest of his life.
