Author's Note: I came up with this idea from a picture I saw. Went different from what I originally wanted to write. Anyway, I like who it turned out. I might add another chapter. Should I? Tell me if you think I should after you read :]

XxXxXx

Dean sat there with his head in his hands. He didn't move. He didn't blink. He didn't twitch. He only breathed. Even then, you really couldn't see him moving. There was no one to see him fall apart. No one at all. Sam was gone. Gone for good. He wasn't coming back. No, Dean was alone. Alone forever.

Dean felt the tears fall down his cheeks. He didn't move to whip them away. He just let them fall. He let the bottled out emotions come out. He let then anger, the angst, the sadness, the depression, the hurt wash over him. Dean cried out as each emotion rolled over him.

Dean couldn't take in anymore. He couldn't take being still. He stood up and looked around like a wild animal. He saw closed his eyes and let out a piercing cry. Luckily, he was in the middle of nowhere. Where no one would hear him. Panting, Dean walked over to a tree. He started to punch the tree. He punched and punched and punched and punched the crap out of the tree. Dean knelt to the ground and rested his head again in his bloody hands.

Dean wasn't there. Well, physically he was. Mentally, he went to a happier time. A time when everything was simpler.

XxXxXx

Sam looked through Dean's cassette tapes. He shook his head. "I swear man, you've got to update your cassette tape collection."

Dean looked over at Sam. "Why?"

Sam picked up one and threw it back in the box. "Well for one: there cassette tapes. And two: Black Sabbath? Motorhead? Metallica? It's the greatest hits of mullet rock."

"House rules Sammy, drive picks the music." Dean took the cassette tape out of Sam's hand. "Driver picks the music, shotgun shuts his cake whole."

Sam sighed. "You know, Sammy is a chubby twelve year olds name. It's Sam, okay?"

Dean smiled putting the cassette tape in. He turned the volume up. "Sorry, I can't hear you. Music's too loud." Dean smiled driving away.

XxXxXx

Dean almost smiled. Almost. He remembered that day. It was the first time he and Sam had driven together in over two years. The first time the two brothers could be themselves. They didn't have their dad telling them what to do. Dean didn't have Sam and his dad butting heads. He had none of the arguing. They had changed since the last time they had seen each other. Sam hadn't been the same. Dean hadn't been the same. It was obvious. Especially the way the two brothers worked. However, once they started to work, they got back into the swing of things.

Dean felt the blood on his face. He didn't care. It reminded him of Sam.

XxXxXx

Dean looked over and saw that Sam was asleep. An evil thought crossed through Dean's mind. Dean rummaged around for a spoon and found one. He placed it on Sam's half open mouth and took out his phone. He took a picture and saved it. Dean then cranked the music up and began to sing.

Sam jerked awake and pulled the spoon out of his mouth. "Man, we're not kids anymore, Dean. We're not gonna start that crap up again."

Dean turned and make an innocent look. "Start what up?

Sam gave him a cut-that-act look. "That prank stuff—it's stupid and it always esculates."

Dean chuckled. "Oh, what's the matter, Sammy, you afraid that you'll get a little Nair in your shampoo again, huh?"

Sam glared at Dean. "Alright, just remember you started it."

XxXx

Sam looked back to Dean as Ed and Harry rove away. "I have a confession to make."

Dean looked up at Sam as he opened the door to the driver's side. "What's that?"

Sam smiled. "I was the one who called them and told them I was a producer."

Dean laughed. "I was the one who put a dead fish in their backseat."

Sam laughed too. "Truce?"

Dean nodded getting into the car. "Yeah, truce. At least for the next one-hundred miles."

XxXxXx

Dean actually let out a small chuckle. Just a small one. A little one. Nothing more than a slight chuckle. Dean immediately stopped when he remembered where he was and what was going. He wished that Sam was here. He wished he could prank him once last time. Had kept to the truce. He hadn't pulled a prank on him since the truce they shared.

Dean looked up to the stars. Sam wasn't there. Sam was down below. In the Pit. He wasn't Upstairs like he should be. He wasn't where all the good people went. Sure Sam had his up and downs but he was over all a good person. Always ask questions first then shoot. Never shoot then ask questions. He wanted to make sure whatever they were doing was the right thing. Unlike Dean who always wanted to shoot first no matter what was going on. Now unless it involved a girl, Dean would ask questions first. There was still some chivalry left in the boys.

Dean looked back down at the earth. He tried to find Sam in the dirt and grass. Dean wanted to find his baby brother. He began to dig. He was going to try and reach Hell. He was going to try and rescue his baby brother. Dean dug the hole with his bare hands. He didn't care. He just wanted to get Sam out.

Hours went by. Dean didn't stop. He continued to dig. He continued to make the hole deeper and wider. He didn't know what he was doing. He was just acting on his natural instincts. His natural instincts told him to dig a hole to try and find Sam. So, that's what he was doing.

The clearing Dean was in had meaning to him. It wasn't some random clearing that he had randomly driven to. It wasn't that at all. It was a clearing that Sam and Dean had stopped at a thousand times and just relaxed. It was a clearing where they forgot all their problems. A clearing where they drank, where they talked, where they slept, where they forgot everything.

Digging the hole had been Dean's natural instincts. Coming to the clearing had also been his natural instincts.

Dean was still digging when he felt a hand on his shoulder. Dean hadn't been listening to anything going around on around him. Just the pull of the dirt on his fingers. Dean swung around pulling back to punch the person who had touched him. Dean felt a hand grab his fist and hold it there. "Dean, what are you doing boy? Come on out of that hole."

Dean felt the person help him out of the hole. Dean let him. There wasn't much he had left in this world. Dean didn't care if the person hurt or killed him. "Boy, what were you doing digging this hole?"

Dean didn't answer. He didn't know who the person was in front of him. It was obviously someone he knew. Someone he had to know very well. Dean looked up at the person. His vision was blurry but he made the person out. "B'bby?"

"I'm right here Dean. What were you doing diggin' a damn hole." Bobby picked up Dean's hands. "With your bloody hands. What were you thinking?"

Dean looked from the hole to Bobby. "Finding Sammy. Sammy is in Hell."

Bobby nodded. It pained him to see the state Dean was in. "Yes he is Dean but diggin' a hole isn't going to do anything."

"Sammy is in Hell. Which is underneath all the earth. If I dig deep enough, I'll find him." Dean said. To him, it sounded logical.

"Dean, let's get you out of here. You need to get somewhere warm." Bobby said standing up. He offered Dean a hand but he refused.

"No. I'm not leaving here." Dean said crossing his arms over his chest.

"Dean, it's cold. It's raining. You're bleeding and you're not in the right mind. Let me take you back to my place." Bobby said.

Dean thought for a moment. "Fine."

Bobby smiled. "C'mon, Dean, Sam's alright. He knew what he did."

Dean pulled away. "No. He's not alright. I've been there before Bobby. I know what Hell is like. He's not alright."

Bobby didn't say anything. He was right. He did know what it was like. He did know what Sam was going to go through. Bobby put all that aside. "Dean let's get back to my place and have a couple of beers."

Dean nodded walking away from the hole he had dug. He walked away from his brother. He walked away knowing that he would never see him again.