Thanks for the great responses to Chapter 1. I hope the rest works as well!

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One Way He Didn't

II.

Dean tried to make something work with Lisa, he really did. He liked her. She liked him. Ben was a riot, exactly like Dean had been at that age. There was a roof over his head. They lived in a quaint, peaceful suburb. Given some time, Dean knew he could settle in, find a job, and with a lot of work, build a new family for himself and Lisa.

None of it was enough, though. Lisa was wonderful. Ben was everything Dean could have wanted in a son.

But, they couldn't fill that empty passenger seat in the Impala.

Everything reminded him of Sam, of what he'd lost. The hole in his life matched the hole in his soul, in his car, in his mind. Sam couldn't be replaced. He couldn't be forgotten. Sam was part of him, and Dean just couldn't let that part go.

That's one deep, dark NOTHING you got there, Dean. Can't fill it, can you? Not with food...or drink…not even with sex.

Famine had been right. There had been a hole inside him. One that couldn't be filled. But, it had nothing to do with his time in Hell. The hole had been his damaged, flagging relationship with Sam, left in tatters after Ruby and the ill-fated trip to Heaven.

But he and Sam had begun rebuilding that relationship. It wasn't the same; it never could be. They weren't the men they'd once been, before the demons and angels drove a wedge between them. It wasn't the same…it was better. He didn't have an annoying baby brother to protect, or a junior partner in the Winchester hunting team. He'd lost those to Ruby and Hell.

Instead, Dean had found that when he—in his mind—allowed Sam to grow up, he had so much more. An equal. A true partner. A best friend. Sometimes, Dean allowed for the possibility that he'd had that all along and just never realized it. The new Sam and Dean had a shot at surviving the Apocalypse…maybe even winning.

The battle in Stull Cemetery had destroyed all of that. Sam had sacrificed himself to save Dean—hell, save the world—and ended up trapped in Hell for his trouble. Sam was gone and Dean was left behind. Alone.

Dean had watched both of his brothers tumble into the abyss. He hadn't known Adam Milligan, not really. If the angels hadn't intervened and dragged Adam into the fight, Dean would never have met him, just the bloodthirsty ghoul that had assumed his identity a year earlier. Now there was no chance of knowing him at all. Michael and Lucifer had destroyed his brothers, the last remnants of his family.

What did a big brother do when his younger brothers were gone? What was his purpose then?

Lisa tried to understand. He'd told her most of the story. She accepted it, mostly because her own supernatural experience from years past helped her believe the fantastic tale. But she couldn't truly comprehend the depths of Dean's loss. No one could.

What was worse, he saw Sam everywhere. Staring at him from reflections in car windows. Out of the corner of his eye when he dropped Ben off at school. In the windows at night when he ate dinner. It was fleeting. The images never lasted more than on split second, but it was driving Dean crazy. How was he supposed to move on? How could he keep the promise he never wanted to make?

He lasted three months. One evening, he put a cooler of beer in the back of the Impala and went driving. The first time he'd been in his baby in four weeks.

"I just need some air. I'll be back."

Lisa nodded, smiled, but she had an odd look on her face.

He ended up in the middle of nowhere, near White River. There wasn't a streetlight for miles, and the sky was so bright with stars—it was dazzling. Dean stretched out on the hood of the Impala and started counting. He was up to three hundred when he glanced to his left. At the cool, empty, black hood.

At first, he didn't know why he couldn't move. Didn't understand why the world seemed to blur together until he couldn't see it. It was only when the first sob escaped his lips that he realized he was crying.

He couldn't do this. He couldn't keep his promise. And that hurt worse than the emptiness.

Once he could control himself, Dean dropped into the driver's seat and started driving. He followed the roads, but wasn't paying any attention to them. He saw the first sign for Indianapolis, and realized that he'd passed Cicero completely.

And he didn't care.

The look on Lisa's face as he had driven off finally made sense to him. She had known he wasn't coming back. On one level, Dean knew that it was a pretty shitty thing to do, leaving her and Ben like this after they'd taken him in, accepted him. He hadn't even said goodbye.

But, then, he'd already failed everyone else in his life. What were two more?

He drove for three hours, before stopping, for some reason, at a church in Bradford. Dean huffed a laugh at the name on the sign. St. Michael's. Naturally.

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A lot of churches still left their doors open 24/7, even when it probably wasn't safe anymore. Thieves, vandals and psychos didn't consider churches off limits these days, and many parishes dutifully locked up at night. Dean was glad St. Michael's was one of the holdouts that kept up the old tradition.

He sat on a pew near the back, staring at his surroundings. St. Michael's wasn't the most ornate church he'd ever been in, but it was nice enough. Beautiful even, in its simplicity.

Dean lowered the kneeler and knelt, bowing his head. He didn't know what he wanted to pray for, or who he'd even pray to. God didn't seem to care about him, or anything else. Joshua had all but spelled that out for them that day in the Garden.

"Cas…I don't know if you can hear me, but…I can't do this. I— I just want this to be over."

He dropped his head onto the wooden pew between his arms. Maybe Castiel would hear him. Maybe Cas would be willing to end it all for him. Take him to Heaven. Dean was done. He had no options left.

He realized then, far too late, that he'd played the game all wrong. He should have forced himself up on his wobbly legs at Stull and tackled Sam, gone with him into the cage. At least they would have been together.

The scuff of shoes on the tile behind the pew alerted him that someone else had entered. Dean closed his eyes. It was probably a priest, or another late-night traveler. It didn't really matter.

He sensed the other person get close, then felt the wooden pew creak as the newcomer knelt beside him.

Great. He finally wanted to be alone, and he couldn't be. He just hoped whoever it was didn't want to talk.

"Heavenly Father, hear my prayer…."

Dean's eyes snapped open.

"For Dean…may he find what he's looking for."

Dean raised his head and stared at the man who'd knelt next to him. Listened to the familiar voice. His eyes had to be playing tricks on him.

"Sammy?"

Sam raised his bowed head, and turned it slowly to look at Dean. "Sorry. Sammy doesn't live here anymore."

A flick of Sam's head, and Dean went flying, catapulted out of the pew. He landed in a heap ten feet away, flat on his face in the center aisle between the rows of seats. He groaned, pushing himself over. Sam rose from the pew and moved toward him.

Dean noticed the eyes this time. Cold. Spiteful. Inhuman. He'd never forget the eyes. "Lucifer…h-how?"

The Fallen angel advanced on him, a lion on the prowl. "Silly rabbit. Some boxes can't be closed. Well, not as well as the first time, anyway."

A twitch of a finger, and Dean went sliding backwards the length of the church, careening into the steps leading up to the altar. He stared in horror as Lucifer sauntered up the aisle, calmly, carefree. "Where's Sam?"

Lucifer paused, stopping a dozen steps away from where Dean lay, and glanced up as if in thought. "Sam…." He dragged out the name as if he hadn't heard it in a while. "Ah, yeah. Sam's still in the cage, along with that little blond bastard child. They might have had a chance at climbing out with me, but…I wasn't about to leave the door open that long. They still ask for you, you know? Sometimes. When they can speak."

Dean's eyes blurred again, hearing the unspoken words. His brothers were trapped in Hell, suffering, being tortured. Lucifer resumed his slow trek up the aisle, continuing. "I yanked Michael out. Couldn't stand the thought of my big brother being sullied with a substandard vessel. Didn't really expect the kid to explode like that. After we scraped him off the walls, though, there was still enough left to hang on the rack, right next to Sam. They've really gotten to know each other these last few decades. Inside and out."

Dean held out a hand as the Devil got close. "Lucifer…please. Let them go. You can take me, instead. Please!"

"Don't worry, Dean," Lucifer cooed, a shark's grin playing across Sam's face. "You're going to see your brothers very shortly."

Lucifer raised his hand, and Dean was flying through the air again. He landed hard on top of the altar, the air being forced out of his lungs. As he gasped, Lucifer spread his arms wide.

"May dear old Dad accept the sacrifice at my hands…" Lucifer climbed up on the altar, kneeling over Dean, and sighed, throwing him a pitying look. "I told you before, Dean. I win."

Lucifer raised his fist, obviously planning on driving it through Dean's skull.

"Dean?"

Dean gasped, throwing himself back. He lost his balance on the kneeler and ended up sprawled against the pew in a totally undignified manner. His eyes darted up, expecting to see Sam's possessed face sneering down at him, but instead found Castiel's stern gaze.

"I didn't want to wake you, but you were having a nightmare."

Glancing around the church, Dean tried to get his bearings. Nightmare?

Cas looked around the church as well, before favoring Dean with a small smile. "You don't pray very often. It…certainly got my attention."

Dean accepted Castiel's outstretched hand, righting himself on the kneeler as he tried to control his ragged breathing. The nightmare had been incredibly real.

"How have you been, Dean?" Cas asked, with that familiar manner that told Dean he already knew.

"Peachy," Dean sneered. "Just living the life, you know? Better than some people we know."

Castiel didn't seem phased by his attitude. "It occurred to me, Dean, that I never told you how sorry I am for your loss. I…wish things were different."

Dean nodded, somewhat mockingly. "Yeah…me too. I wish my little brother wasn't burning in Hell for no reason."

That made the angel frown. "Don't say that, Dean. Sam died trapping Lucifer in his cage. He made his choice and saved the world. He died a hero, Dean…don't take that from him."

His vision was blurring again. Dean closed his eyes and dropped his head back onto the pew. "He brought you back, Cas. Twice. He let me come back after I spent ten years down there proving how much I didn't deserve it. Why not Sam?"

There was a pause, so long Dean thought the angel might have left. "I don't know. I wish I had some answers for you. Would it help if I said that everything happens for a reason?"

Dean sighed wearily. "Not really, no."

"Then, I don't know what to say."

"Don't say anything, then," Dean muttered. "I…I'm just gonna sit here for a while."

Castiel dropped to his knees on the kneeler, beside Dean. "I will as well. I will pray for Sam. I…owe him that much, at least."

TBC