"DAD!" Through a hazy mist, Dean saw Sam collapse beside a motionless figure. Sam began yelling urgently. The yells became strangled as tears began streaming down his face, choking his throat. Dean could no longer hear Sam's cries. Only the rapid thump of his heart pounded through his skull. Sobs racked Sam's shoulders, and his mouth opened in an angry yell. He turned, tears pouring down his face, and suddenly, Dean recognized the pale body, lying stiff, motionless on the ground. John Winchester. The world began moving in slow motion. The last thing Dean saw was Sam's head drop down between his shaking shoulders. Then everything went black.
Dean's head jerked up. His breaths came in short, heavy gasps. Frantically he looked around. The hum of an engine. Slow, rhythm rocking. Near complete darkness. Then he remembered. He glanced to his left and saw Sam, illuminated by the head lights, driving the Impala. Dean must have fallen asleep. "You okay?" Sam threw him a quick glance. Dean saw the concern and felt embarrassment stiffen him. He took a breath and casually leaned back in his seat.
"Yeah, man." He tried to sound normal. He did not need Sam to know how comforted he felt to by his brother's presence. Dean rubbed his eyes, trying to remove the image of the dream still vivid in his mind. He felt tears on his eyelashes and turned away hastily to hide them from Sam. Again Sam sent a worried look at Dean. "What?" Dean tried to look confused and Sam just shook his head and continued driving. "Look. I gotta take a leak so stop a the nearest gas station," Dean commanded gruffly.
After using the restroom and splashing water on his face, Dean swaggered out the gas stations small store, but not before throwing the brunette chick at the counter a flirty grin and a "Hey there." Sam had just finished pumping the gas and was opening the driver's door. "My turn to drive. Get out." Sam left the door open for Dean, crossed over to the passenger's side, and hopped in, narrowly missing scraping his head on the Impala's ceiling. The crunch of gravel turned into smooth road as the car's wheels met the open highway. Dean turned on the music and settled down comfortably in the driver's seat, his dream nearly forgotten.
"Dean, I'm trying to sleep." Dean almost argued with Sam but saw the dark lines under his brother's eyes. Already pink was creeping up on the horizon, beginning to introduce a new day. Sam need his sleep. With an exaggerated sigh, Dean turned down the music. "Thanks." Sam closed his eyes and his breathes began to slow. Only a minute later, his head tipped slightly to the right and his mouth slightly open, soft snores reached Dean's ears. Dean looked over at Sam and sad smile played on his lips. Dean's dream wasn't a dream. It had happened. And Sam had been there. Leaning over their father's dead body.
Their dad had been dead for two weeks now. Since then, Sam never looked completely rested, his shoulders always slumped. Dean noticed Sam's grief and he noticed the bit of lost willpower that used to always shine in Sam's green eyes. Before, Sam had often brought up the subject of the death but Dean pushed away the conversation - and his brother - by pretending his was fine. Dean's heart ached as he realized that he probably had contributed to Sam's depression. Sam had given up and never brought up the death again. What Sam didn't know was the Dean couldn't talk of the death. I'm not strong enough to face it. Dean clenched his jaw, staring straight ahead, willing the tears to disappear. Soon Sam would wake up. Dean would once again wear the mask of tough older brother, always right, never fazed. I need to be strong. For Sammy. But for now, while Sam slept, he let go. As he sped along the endless stretch of road, he let the tears silently fall, their only witness - the rising sun.