Dean had fallen asleep in the early morning. When he woke up he saw Sam laying in bed. He was about to wake him up when he remembered he wasn't sleeping. Then he also remembered he had whiskey in his bag. He saw the bag in the corner of the room. Bobby must have brought it in for him before he left. He took out the bottle and took a few swigs. He had practically drank the whole bottle by the time Bobby got back.

"Dean, I brought you back some food," Bobby yelled as he walked into the falling down house.

"No, thanks. I'm fine," Dean said standing at the doorway of Sam's room, looking down on him.

"Dean, you need to eat," Bobby urged.

"I said I'm fine," Dean growled and walked out and took the last swig from the whiskey bottle. Bobby wondered where that had come from, and how full it had been to start with.

"Look, Dean, I really hate to bring this up, but don't you think it's time we cremated Sam?"

"He's afraid of fire, Bobby," Dean said, irrationally.

"Dean, it can't hurt him now. Nothing can. But we can do this for him to make sure nothing evil uses his body. You know that's what he would want, right?" Bobby tried to reason with Dean but he was breaking his heart. He looked like the 7 year old that he was when he had first met him.

"OK," Dean said, finally. "Can you go build the pyre, though. I want to stay with Sam until it's time." He knew how crazy it was, but he still felt like he had to protect Sam. Bobby understood though, and went out to build the pyre by himself.

An hour later he came back in. "Ready?"

"As I'll ever be," Dean said. They carried Sam out to the pyre and doused him with gas. Bobby handed Dean a match. Dean just stood there looking. "I can't do it, Bobby."

"I'll do it for you if you want me to," Bobby said. Whatever little thing he could do to make this even the slightest bit easier for Dean.

Dean remembered being four years old and carrying Sam out of their burning house. He remembered pulling Sam out of his burning apartment as Jessica burned on the ceiling. It didn't seem right to now set him on fire. "Can you just do it for me, Bobby? I can't even watch." He had watched his father burn, but only because he had to be strong for Sammy. There was nobody to be strong for anymore. His mother had died when he was four. His father had sold his soul for him last year. And now, Sam. It was too much for him to take.

"Yeah, Dean. You go inside. We'll leave when I'm done, OK?"

Dean nodded mutely and trudged back to the house. He felt like he was abandoning Sam. He was being selfish not being there to comfort him as he burned.

SSSSSSSSSSSSS

1 month later Hell Time

Sam had been here burning for a month. He had always hated fire. But he felt he deserved it. Jess had burned alive because of him. It was only right that he burn for eternity. He has strapped to a rack, but he hadn't seen anybody. No demons, no other souls, not the devil himself. He wasn't sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing.

SSSSSSSSSSSSSS

Bobby was driving the Impala and Dean was riding shotgun. It seemed so wrong to Dean. This was Sammy's seat. But, Bobby was right. He was in no shape to drive. He was going to go to sleep now, though, because they were headed to the burned down Roadhouse where they had left Bobby's car.

"Wake up, Dean. We're here," Bobby said, gently shaking Dean.

Dean shook himself awake. "Sam?" he asked.

"No, son, it's me," Bobby said quietly.

That's right. Sam was dead. How many times was he going to forget and have to remember all over again?

When they got out of the car they saw a figure emerging from the ashes.

"Ellen?" Bobby asked.

"Bobby, Dean," Ellen cried.

"We thought you were dead," Dean said.

"I wasn't here when the fire happened. I came back to get this out of the safe," she said waving a map. "I saw Bobby's car and figured he'd be back, so I waited. I was just about to give up and hunt you down."

"What is that?" Bobby asked.

"It's a map that the demons wanted. It's Southeast Wyoming. It's the map of a graveyard surrounded by train tracks laid out in the shape of a devil's trap. I think there's a devil's gate in there, and someone is going to try to open it."

"You knew all that and you were just hanging on to the map? What for?" Bobby asked, gruffly.

"I just figured all this out. I've been poring over the map for the last five hours waiting for you to show up," Ellen said.

"If it's surrounded by a devil's trap, how are the demons going to get in to open it up?" Dean asked.

"No idea," Ellen said. "Where's Sam? With Ash dead, Sam's now officially the smart one."

Bobby shook his head.

"Sam's dead?" Ellen asked. "Dean, I'm so sorry."

"I'm fine," Dean said flatly.

Ellen didn't believe that for a minute but now was not the time to allow Dean to wallow in his grief. There would be plenty of time for that after they stopped the demons.

"We should go," Ellen said.

"Ellen, you ride with Dean and follow me," Bobby said. He wanted them to have both vehicles so he didn't have to come back here again, but he didn't want Dean alone.

"OK."

SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS

1 month later Hell Time

Alistair came in to start John's daily process. It was really getting quite tedious. Who would chose torture over torturing at all, much less for close to a century. Maybe he wasn't as good as he thought he was? Nah. Maybe John was a masochist?

"Would you like to get off the rack today?" Alistair said, expecting the same answer.

"Yes," John whispered.

"What was that?" Alistair asked in shock. Had he actually finally broken the great John Winchester?

"Yes," John whispered again.

"You'll start the torturing?" Alistair asked.

"Yes," John said.

"Say it," Alistair demanded.

"I'll start the torturing," John said.

"Excellent. I have the perfect candidate for you to start with. I'll be back shortly," and with that he left.

"What have I done?" John whispered and cried.