Past 8
It wasn't long before Dean started to be gone more than he was actually there. When Sam woke up most mornings, he was alone in the bunker and the long halls that never bothered him before suddenly seemed to echo with emptiness. This place was built to house dozens of people and somehow the two of them had filled it, but with just Sam by himself, the blank spaces seemed to be eating him alive.
When Dean finally did show up again, Sam wasn't even really surprised that it was only to say goodbye.
"I can't do it Sam" his brother explained apologetically. "I wish I could stay here with you, but I can't just pretend that things are the same now, that I haven't changed. I have responsibilities now."
What about me? Sam wanted to ask but didn't. Didn't you always insist that I was your responsibility?
"I'm sorry Sam, but I know you'll have a good life. Heck, you can have as many lives as you want. I just won't be around for them."
After Dean disappeared for the last time Sam cried himself to sleep and spent the next week angrily pacing around the bunker yelling at the sky, hoping that his brother could hear him. This wasn't like all of the other times he's lost Dean. Then, it had always been something beyond their control, but this time, Dean chose to leave him, which meant that this time, there really was no getting him back. After months spent cycling through all five stages of grief, Sam picked himself up and moved on.
