"Samuel."

Sam stopped short of the throne room's exit, turning back on his heel to face Rowena as Dean and Castiel moved past him. He gestured for them to go on ahead when they paused to wait for him, and neither protested his request. She stood in front of him with arms outstretched, and he timidly reached for her, unsure if she even had any corporeal form to grab onto. She didn't, but the moment his hands hovered over hers, he swore he could almost feel the warmth of her touch anyway.

"I meant what I said," she continued, her expression much softer now than the one she carried while sitting on her throne in front of her subjects, "It's time to move on."

His eyebrows knitted together in confusion. There were a number of ways he could've taken that, a number of things she could've meant. If he were honest with himself, it didn't matter. He wouldn't agree in any sense of the word. "I don't—"

"I'm Queen, dearie. You don't think I wouldn't watch over my boy?"

"But you didn't know about Chuck," said Sam, his confusion now only growing. He hadn't expected her to be spying on him, though it was hard to expect much of anything these days. Like her being the new Queen of Hell, for starters. At least the demons had listened to his warning last year though. There was no new King of Hell, just like he told them. He could only imagine how Crowley would react if he were still around. Given how much he hated the job in the end, he'd likely be proud of his mother.

"Oh, I've just got eyes on you to make sure you're alive and well," Rowena explained, her red-stained lips curling into a wry smile, "Besides that, I can feel you. We're connected, you and I."

Sam knew that. He'd felt it too, but he originally dismissed it as some sort of trauma response to help him through his grief. At first, it had the opposite effect because it hurt that much harder knowing she wasn't really there. It became more of a comfort in recent weeks when the pain of his loss started to lessen. Though it never really did; he'd only just buried it underneath the weight of everything else going on in their lives. He couldn't help but wonder why they shared such a connection though, and tears started to brim the corners of his eyes as he feared the worst.

"Because I killed you?"

"Oh, Samuel," she breathed, regretfully only able to hover a soothing hand over his cheek, "No. Because of my magic—our magic."

Sam blinked the tears away, a bittersweet smile forming on his own lips now. "The stuff you left me... I've been practicing."

"I know. I'm so proud of you."

"That flesh to spirit spell you created for mom, I was able to use it for a—" He looked away for a moment. "—friend of mine. She escaped with the other spirits before we closed the rupture."

Rowena smiled, trying to curb his awkwardness around the subject of this 'friend'. "I'm glad to hear it. If anyone were capable of such powerful spellwork, it's you. In my stead, of course."

"Would it have worked on you?"

She gave him a stern look, not wanting him to add to his already heavy guilt of what transpired between the two of them. Carrying around the fact that he had to kill her was one thing, but also torturing himself over the idea that he could've brought her back and didn't? She knew it would break him apart. And she simply couldn't allow him to put himself through that.

"I've long made peace with my fate," she reminded him, "And now you must do the same."

"No..." He shook his head, lips pursed as he tried to hold back his anger. "I could have saved you."

"How?"

"There's always another way."

"We didn't have time to find another way. The world was doomed otherwise."

"It still is," Sam said with a bitterness she'd only ever heard from the older Winchester.

"If you really thought that, you wouldn't have come."

He sighed, head hanging as he couldn't bare to look her in the eyes anymore. Those dazzling hazel eyes that stared back up at him with such trust and tenderness moments before he plunged a knife into her gut. Those same eyes that could always see straight through him. He never understood how or why, if it was some magical intuition or something more, but Rowena just got Sam—on a level no one ever had. They only needed to share a simple look, and it would say so much more than words ever could.

"This world needs you, Sam Winchester. It always has. It doesn't need me."

"Maybe not," said Sam, lifting his head back up to look at her, more tears streaking his cheeks. "But I do."

In all the moments since taking that swan dive into Hell, this had to be the one Rowena wished to be flesh the hardest. Roaming Hell as a damned spirit was nothing more than an inconvenience most of the time. But this was unbearable. She wished so desperately to be able to hold him in her arms, feel the warmth of his giant shoulders around her, to wipe away those silly tears shed for a miscreant such as herself. She never felt she deserved the amount of compassion she received from him, and yet he continued to give it. If only she could admit she needed him too.

"Keep practicing magic, and I'll never be far," was the only response she could offer him, leaning forward to place a ghostly kiss on his cheek.

He threw a look over his shoulder, knowing their time was running out. They were all due back soon, and Dean and Castiel couldn't wait outside forever. Still, at the very least he had to say one thing. Despite how much she insisted otherwise, this was his fault. She died by his hand, no matter the reasons why it was deemed necessary. And there wasn't a day gone by where he didn't regret it.

"I'm so sorry."

Holding her head high, she smiled brightly at him. "I forgive you, Samuel. Please forgive yourself."

Sam closed his eyes as his brother called for him. There was still so much left unsaid between the two of them, and yet here they were, being rushed apart again before either of them could hope to try. He promised himself after that horrible day if he ever got to see her again, he would say everything he never had the chance to. An apology was only the beginning. But now the words wouldn't come, and a part of him knew it was also because she couldn't bare to hear them. In the end, nothing would change the simple fact that he couldn't stay and she couldn't go.

"Goodbye, Rowena."

They shared one last look before he turned to leave, and once again it said more than either of them dared to out loud.

Clasping her hands over her heart as he walked away from her, she made little effort in stopping the tears spilling down her own face. "Goodbye, my darling boy."