Chapter 17

"To imagine oneself playing a role in an epic story is exhilarating, but to actually step into an epic story is terrifying. And the problem is that imagination might be safe, but being safe doesn't write any stories worth reading."
― Craig D. Lounsbrough

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January 24th, 2023

Dear Dean:

Today you would have turned forty-four years old. I have been talking about you to so many people, that sometimes I feel like you are going to yell from above for me to stop sharing embarrassing stories of you and me being kids.

We are in Kansas with Gen and little DJ to celebrate your life on this earth. He is going to be two months old soon, and he's got this cute chunky belly I will adore for the rest of his baby days. Gen calls him "Chunky Monkey" most of the time. I dig the nickname, but I still call him Dean, or DJ.

Saying your name brings me peace.

I believe I mentioned this to you, but Mom told me things I didn't know about you while you were possessed by Michael, many nightmares ago. When I didn't sleep for days, trying to find you, she'd sit by my side and we would talk about the family we were before the yellow eyed demon destroyed everything.

She told me about your newborn baby days, and how calm you were compared to me. Turns out, I was the wild one, then. Can you imagine me being the social one, and you being the one spending your days at home, reading books and doing homework? I think I would have still looked up to you somehow.

I guess I am practically quoting mom when I say that little Dean is a new earthly version of you. DJ is very calm, loves the kisses Gen gives him every night before we go to bed, and the classic Rock songs I hum to him when he is upset. "Highway to Hell" is his favorite one so far.

Being held in our arms is something he demands all the time these days. Since the first time I met him, I started to think about my new role in this life, and the legacy I want to leave behind before I go. Nobody knows when that time actually comes around. Even you and I didn't expect it to happen. Not even if we died a thousand times before. Death is supposed to be the forever goodbye; however, I am sure we beat the odds for a while. Now it is a scary thought for me. I don't want to die yet, but a part of my soul aches to join you in the forever road trip I owe you. Just you and me, and a thousand stories to be told one more time, just for the sake of laughing of each other. I will even tell you about the time when I awkwardly proposed to Gen. She still laughs about it.

When I mentioned leaving a legacy, I didn't mean the "Men of Letters" Legacy. That is something I do not want to think about until we have to get there.

You know I was a weird kid since day one, and I still tend to overthink things all the time. I have walked through the muddy path most of my life, thinking I was making the right choices. You don't need to read these letters to know I felt like crap over that for many years.

I don't know if it was therapy, becoming a husband, a father or what, but I don't see all of them as flaws anymore. It was the role I thought I had to take in order to protect you. Lying to you about feeling things I did not even considered valid when I was soulless; or not telling you about how I killed Alastair when it left you bloody and broken on the floor.

I also stepped in when you felt guilty for letting Michael escape after hitting your head, or when we lost mom and then dad again. I was a little wiser those days.

You were clearly tired of fighting, so I stepped in, doing it in the only way I could. Being who you needed me to be.

I was Sam, mom, and even a late best friend of yours.

Your first big role was revealed when I was born, at least the obvious one.

Being a big brother, making sure I didn't get hurt. When everything went down, you had to fill the roles mom and dad did not cover anymore.

You didn't have time to think about life while you were living down here.

My heart aches when I think about you being so busy trying to save the world, and my sanity in the process, to think about what you actually wanted if you had a moment of freedom.

My therapist suggested doing something different to celebrate your life every January 24.

Celebrate every heartbeat, instead of crying myself to sleep. I said I would think about that, and after talking with Gen, she came up with a plan.

Since DJ was born, we needed a family size car, so I kept Baby in the garage, safe from time and dust underneath an old blanket I found in the house.

We got in the new car and I drove to Lebanon, Kansas. There are places we have never been to, but they are great public spaces to see nature and clear skies above our heads. We are currently camping at Fort Kearny State Recreation Area. Seeing the sunrise together near by the lake, while it was reflecting itself on the waving water helped me disconnect from the things I have been carrying within me. As for today, I am celebrating you.

I told Gen about the times you and I travelled through the country, stuck in the car most of the day, not caring about it because we were happy being around each other's company. We drove more than a thousand miles together, and we enjoyed every second of it. That is when I knew my main role was to be by your side. A part of me wanted to keep studying, but later in life, I knew I did not want anything if you were not going to be a part of it. My role was to make sure you knew you would never be left behind.

You had me, Bobby, Jody, Donna, Charlie, Ellen, Jo, Cass and Jack too.

You had us. We got your back, because that is what family does. Gen bought flowers, each one representing one of us. The ones who love you and are still down here. We threw them to the lake at the end of the day. In between those two events, we walked around with little Dean in my arms.

We will come back when he is older, and he will throw his flower by himself. We will even go boating. I know you would have loved it here.

Happy birthday, Dean.

Love you, Sammy and Dean Jr.

Author's Note: Hey guys! Here is another chapter. Hope you enjoy it! I love your awesome reviews!