Set Post Mannequin so spoilers for season 6 – extremely vague though.
Cracks in the Concrete
"Hey Dean?"
The voice is quiet in the darkness of another non-descript motel room.
They were both supposed to be asleep.
"Yeah?"
The answer is hesitant and hedged with wariness.
"This time, when I die-"
There is something preying on Sam's mind, weighing heavily upon him.
"You are not going to die."
But Dean doesn't want to know.
He doesn't want to think past this moment, because Sam's death is too much a certainty.
As is his own.
"Dean."
Sam is beseeching.
He needs to ask, and hurts for how much he knows his brother doesn't want him too.
Even if Dean doesn't know his question yet.
"Shut up, Sam, and go to sleep."
Dean is tired.
Can't Sam just let something go?
For once?
Tears sting his eyes because before his brother even continues, Dean knows Sam is going to go on.
"-Do you think I have to go back down…there?"
Sam marshals the tremor in his voice; he corrals the fear to make himself audible.
He is terrified but he needs to know what his brother thinks.
Dean is more often right than wrong… and this is important.
Dean doesn't answer, but the silence is telling.
"-Do you think that if I'm good enough, this time, maybe…?"
His voice trails off and Sam shifts onto his side, his back to his brother.
He really wants to see Dean, but his vulnerability forces him into the self-exile.
Sam is afraid of the answer.
"Never mind."
He closes his eyes.
"You are a good man."
Dean's words perish the darkness and Sam tenses, half turning back over to hear.
"Don't ever forget that, okay?"
Now it is Sam's eyes that burn.
"So are you."
Sam feels the need to remind his brother of this.
He hears an unhappy little chuckle and knows that Dean has turned that very question on himself.
Where will Dean go when Dean dies?
"You are."
Sam pressed.
"Sammy."
There is too much in that one word.
"Dean."
And equally as much in its response
"Go to sleep…"
Dean pauses.
Then –
"Bitch."
Sam shifts so he is facing his brother again.
He grins in the darkness knowing his brother will see the flash of his teeth.
"Jerk."
And in that moment, in their little non-descript motel room, at 2 in the morning, cement seeps through their cracks. Carried with the weight of words, it seals the fissures in the concrete, forging a stronger bond between the brothers than ever before.
Neither knows what the future will bring.
Or what will happen in the end –
but they do know one thing.
They will not be alone.
The End