Chapter 10

Sam sat at the desk in his bedroom looking out the window, lost in thought. He held a piece of paper in his hands, a note he had read so many times the page was worn and stained with more than one fallen tear drop. It had arrived in the mail two weeks after the last time he had seen him.

Dear Sam,

My dad died this morning. I can't wrap my head around it. I keep going over everything in my mind, everything that went wrong. I wish I could go back and change it. I wish I could go back and kill those guys again. I wish I could see your face one more time. I wish my Dad was alive.

I'm at my Uncle Bobby's now. He won't let me leave, says I need to grieve. He doesn't understand.

I'm not coming back to Boston, Sam.

I want to write, 'let's stay in touch' or 'I'll see you soon' because I want that to be true. But it's not. Staying in touch with you would hurt too much, just make me wish for something that a hunter like me can't have.

Don't laugh or think this is stupid, but I think I love you. I wish I could have stayed and been the right guy for you. Sometimes life doesn't work out the way you wish it would.

I hope when you think about me, you won't hate me. And just know that somewhere out there, someone is missing you. Because I will Sam. I will miss you forever.

Love Dean.

Sam felt tears forming in his eyes and just let them flow, thinking about that last, horrible night.

Soon after John had lost consciousness, two other men had arrived, pushing him out of the way as they performed first aid. Lifting together they carried him to a waiting truck.

Dean had tried to climb in after him but the bearded one, Bobby, had stopped him saying, "Dean, you have to take the car. Go back to that apartment and make sure there is nothing left there. Meet us at Pastor Jim's. That's where we're headed."

Dean had argued that John needed a hospital and Bobby had said, "Boy, don't tell me what he needs. I know your Dad and his wishes. Get the car, take your boy home, clear out that apartment and get to Jim's. That's an order."

Mechanically Dean had nodded, turning away from the truck and returning to Sam. They picked up the scattered weapons and got into the car. Sam looked down at his blood covered hands, the shock and adrenaline wearing off, leaving him scared and exhausted.

Dean pulled up in front of his house and turned the car off, not looking at Sam. Sam spoke in a shaky voice. "Dean, I'm,-"

He never got to finish his sentence because Dean was suddenly upon him, yanking him close and crashing his lips to Sam's. Sam opened his mouth immediately, feeling Dean's tongue tangle with his and he groaned softly.

The kiss lasted an endless minute before Dean pulled away, tears shimmering in his eyes.

"I gotta go, Sam. My Dad-"

"No, of course. Go. I hope he's all right." Sam tried to smile but he felt tears in his own eyes. "Let me know how it goes, OK?"

Dean nodded before pulling Sam close once again. His lips touched Sam's once more, tenderly, achingly soft.

It tasted like good bye.

He had waited for Dean to call him for a few days, but his phone never rang. He texted and called Dean repeatedly for two weeks until the letter arrived.

He had cried for hours, holding his phone in his hand and writing text after text to Dean, begging him to come back, to stay in touch, to not leave him. He erased each one before it was sent.

In the end he only sent one.

Sorry to hear about your Dad, he was a good man. I think I love you too. Bye Dean.

With a press of the send button his innocence and childhood were gone. Sam Morgan was a man. A broken one.

A/N Sorry this is short but it was needed to transition them into the second part of the story. Hope you are all still enjoying it! Please review if you get a second, any criticisms are welcome! Or just kind words! Or just "hey I am reading this story still" LOL J