The sun was shining brightly in the sky and the sky was a pale blue, but it was as if it was taunting the young blonde girl who was knelt in front of a marble stone, tear stains down her tanned face. She brushed the leaves off the grave and wiped the headstone, he deserved better.

Dean Winchester
January 24th 1979 - May 1st 2009
Aged 30
Beloved brother and friend to all.

She stroked the name of her big brother and sniffed as she tried not to cry, he'd always been there to give her strength, now without him she was hurting and she cried freely.

"It's been a year without you and I miss you D. I survived losing my parents because I had you there to help pick up the pieces, I survived being hurt because you were there, but I don't know if I can survive this." She cried as she remembered everything he'd done for her.

She was 6 years old and laid in bed cuddling her big brother.

"Sammy, you need to go to sleep kid." Dean chuckled as he ruffled her soft blonde hair and she'd giggled in her cute little way. His throat constricted slightly as he saw her smile and wished that he could give her back her parents, so she would always know happiness.

"Story D!" Sammy giggled clapping her hands. She may have been only 6 years old, but she seemed younger when she was with Dean. He'd laughed and told her about their parents, how Mary had looked after them, how John had always tucked her in at night and read her a story to get her to go to sleep. He knew it was a bunch of crap, but it had always made the little girl happy and that mattered to him. She'd watched him turn the light out as he'd left closing the door and she'd smiled as she fell asleep.

"You used to tuck me in and tell me a story and turn out my light. I used to feel safe growing up. You know Dean; I depended on things like that. I remember the stories you told me about Mom and Dad, it was bullshit, and I mean Mom probably did do those things but dad? Dean the guy was a fricken marine; you and I both know he was barely home. You were right about one thing though, Dad was a hero." Sammy smiled as she sniffed fighting her tears as the memories hit her thick and fast. She missed her big brother and it was killing her to try and live without him. She was 19 and self destructing, coming apart at the seams as she tried to stand on her own two feet. For years she'd relied on the support of a brother who had given up everything for her. While all his friends were at parties or at basketball practice, he was either at work or helping her with her homework.

"Remember when I was 9 and I had that nightmare about the clown in the closet? You sang to me that night and I fell asleep in your arms? You would have made a good dad D. It's a shame you'd never have that chance." She felt both foolish and like she was letting go, by sitting at the grave and talking to him. She'd made a decision the night before and this was really the last time she'd be able to see the grave for a while.

Sammy sat in the back of the car Dean had been given by their dad before he died. It was a 1967 Chevrolet impala, it's was sleek and black and beautiful, but if you looked deep into the car you'd see the wooden panel where their names were scratched into the wood, the ashtray on the left back door still had a tiny doll stuck in there. There were the Lego pieces that Dean had pushed into the heater when he was 6; it was these things that made the car beautiful to the Winchesters. The car was truly theirs.

Sammy was 14 years old now and just starting the first day of freshman year at high school. Everywhere she went that year, cheer practice, school, home, her friends, even her boyfriend's or on dates, Dean drove her. The car was a symbol of home for her; it was all she'd ever known, the car, Dean, Uncle Bobby and the salvage yard. She barely remembered the homes they'd had, since when she was 8 years old they moved in with Bobby. Bobby was a friend of John's from the marines, he was the kids godfather and he was also Dean's boss. That car had instantly made her popular with the boys who were just dying to get a look under the hood.

She closed her eyes as she remembered all the times as a child where she had her big brother there. She remembered him threatening to rip the lungs out of some jerk she'd been dating who had cheated on her. There are times she wishes she was back there, times she misses being that strong teenager who could handle anything. She'd only visited the grave twice, once on his birthday and today. She remembered for weeks after he died expecting him to walk into the house and asking her if she fancied helping him to fix up the car. She loved that car just as much as Dean did, she knew everything about the engine and in fact she was as much of a gear head as her big brother had been. She knew what she wanted to do with her life now, but before she went and did it, she had loose ends to tie up, loose ends that she may never get the chance to tie up before she leaves.

"If you were here right now you'd probably kill me when I tell you I'm leaving in two days for training. I did it D, I joined the marine corps just like Dad and Uncle Bobby. I know I'm going to die one day, but remember what you said when you found out you were dying? You said 'Die young and leave a pretty looking corpse' I always thought you were crazy, but I get it now." She sniffed and she felt the familiar blush up the back of her neck she used to get whenever he yelled at her for doing something wrong. She found herself laughing.

"I knew you'd be pissed." She chuckled as she put the flowers on his grave and kissed the headstone as she got up to leave.

"I'll see you soon big bro. Love you jerk." She smiled. She always felt happier after talking to him, or even just sitting quietly with him. It had always been that way with them; he'd been her mother, her father and her brother all in one. He'd done it all alone, made himself a living as a mechanic, made them a home with Bobby after a few years of struggling alone. They'd got through it together and today she felt stronger, it was as if all the strength that had been her brother's was now hers and she was going to use it save lives. She wanted to be a hero to people, like all the men she knew.

It had been a Saturday when he died, there had been a crash involving the Impala and a semi-truck, it seemed that the truck driver had fallen asleep at the wheel, losing control and plowing straight in the side of the car. Dean was unlucky, he only had three months left before he was due to die and then he gets hit by the truck. Sammy had been in the car with him and luckily she'd survived with a few scrapes.

"Fix the baby up, she's yours now." Dean had croaked just before he lost consciousness, little did Sammy know that it would be the last time she would ever hear his voice. He had pancreatic cancer and he'd been told he had 3 months to live, that day he found out had tested everything he had. His little sister was 18 and about to graduate, he was going to see that day; it was what kept him going until the accident.

Cause Of death: Acute Subdural Hematoma.

A year later, no-one visited the grave, but there was a new one erected next to Dean Winchester's.

Samantha Winchester
May 2nd 1991 – November 2nd 2010
Aged 19
Sister, Daughter, Friend, Hero