He would have wanted me to keep going, keep hunting.
Sam looked back at the junkyard one last time. After his big brother died, Sam knew he couldnt use his car. The Impala was meant to be driven by Dean, and only Dean. Sam would fight for his brother, never stop doing the very thing that he did with Dean for so many years. He heard a honk in the distance, and then a screech. Sam Winchester looked up to find headlights shining in his eyes, and a car just a few feet away from him.
"Hey buddy, watch where youre walkin', i almost turned you into a pancake!" a man said sticking his head out the window.
"S..Sorry, I guess I was a little distracted." Sam studdered. He was too busy in his own thoughts to notice the car.
I cant die, if I do, Dean would have died for nothing.
"Just try to be more careful next time." and with that, the man drove away.
"Sam."
Who was that?
"Dean?"
Sam saw a figure in the distance, leaning on the post of a speed limit sign. It was Dean, it had to be.
"Sammy, come here."
The youngest Winchester ran, ran faster then he had ever run. He was at the sign within seconds.
But there was nothing there.
"D...Dean?"
Nothing.
"Dean? Please, Dean!"
Sam dropped to his hands and knees. Below him, he saw his own tears fall onto the pavement. The older brother's sibling slid to the ground. He yelled for his brother, but no one was there. No one but himself, and the sign, where Sam had seen his brother. He started to bawl like a child. if Sam was a child, his brother would have told him it was alright, that he was there for Sam. That everything was okay.
But everything wasn't okay.
He had no brother to comfort him.
Sam had lost everything.
Dad.
Mom.
Jess.
Madison.
Dean.
He had no one to comfort him. No more strength left to pray. Nothing to pray for, but the miracle that his brother was still alive.
God hates me. He hates me because I couldn't save them.
Sam continued to cry. He couldn't breathe. His jacket sleeve was wet with tears. More cars whizzed by, but Sam didn't notice them.
How can you live when the best part of you dies? Sam would never be the same. His cries for Dean were silent. Unheard. Unheeded. He had been struck with the anger that came without love.
He had been struck with the unbid feeling, that he could have done a little more to help his big brother.
The anguish he felt tore at his soul. There was hatred everywhere. Cruel lives attacked those who lived for the joy of simply living. Days would become darker, nights would become longer, more oppressive. Heavy on the mind weighing down on hope. Suppressing it, Crushing it. Until it died.
And when that happened, Sam would die too.
But Sam could feel a strong hand on his shoulder. Dean's hand, or Dean's spirit's hand.
"Sammy, stop crying, get up, and go fight those bastards."
Thank you, Dean.
---------------------------------------
Nature's first green is gold,
Her hardest hue to hold.
Her early leaf's a flower;
But only so an hour.
Then leaf subsides to leaf.
So Eden sank to grief,
So dawn goes down to day.
Nothing gold can stay.
-Robert Frost