6 Months Later
"Hey Sam, just checking in. Leaving my weekly update. Not that you ever answer. But, uh, take all the time you need. I get it. Losing…him…was rough. But we're here for you. Whenever you're ready. All right, uh, yeah. Hope to hear from you soon." You weren't expecting any response. Sam bolted the first chance he got, and honestly, you didn't even try to find him. You understood all too well the need to escape when life dealt you a crappy hand. Your daily phone calls turned into weekly check ins, just letting him know you were always there should he need you.
Truth be told, no one was handling it well. Bobby shut it out and you essentially shut it off. The first few months you didn't even hunt. Bobby tried to sit you down to convince you to "turn it on", and when that didn't work, he dispatched you on a routine case. It was only a weeklong werewolf hunt, but you weren't ready. Autopilot was running your life at the moment and you were comfortably numb. As long as no one mentioned the situation or that name, you were in a foggy bliss. At least Bobby seemed to drop it when you came back.
Nights were the worst. The silence of the darkness couldn't drown out the invasive thoughts and you couldn't hold your feelings of guilt at bay in your dreams. Dean was counting on you. Practically his dying wish, and you don't even know what state Sam's in. You didn't even try. Tonight was no different. You hung up the phone after your message to Sam and prepared yourself for the inevitable. Overwhelming silence until you fell asleep…