A/N: I'll probably post a chapter about the finale, once I can bear it lol. Until then...

Spoilers: Season 5

Lawrence, Kansas

October, 2010

"Sam's… Sam is… S-Sam's dead."

The letters 'John Winchester' flutter in his blurred vision. He blinks hard, feels a tear skirt down his face. It's hot against the brisk autumn chill. The low-dangling sun burns into the back of his head, warming just one more spot on his entire body. There are leaves carpeting the grass, creating a crisp, multicolored barrier between him and the earth his father is buried beneath. The air is fresh, not laden with the stench of decomposing bodies, as it should be.

Dean places a hand on the tombstone to steady himself, and instantly regrets it. It makes the whole thing seem more real, more concrete. It's cold, hard, and unyielding, and would hurt him if he punched it. Much like the man it's dedicated to, come to think of it.

"Adam too," he adds, nodding. Adam, the afterthought. Adam, the child John tried so hard to protect from them – to hide from them. Adam was just as much John's son as he was, as Sam was. But only half his brother. Sam was his brother. Sam was everything.

"I… I let them down, Dad. I-I let you down. I'm… I'm so sorry." He cracks, then, an errant sob clawing up his throat. It feels like someone is holding a match to his esophagus, and the cold air isn't alleviating anything. He breathes for a second, studies the leaves. The sunlight catches the red, the gold, the auburn. He lists all the ways he's failed his father – failed everyone – and he composes himself. He won't let them down on this account, too. Not after everything.

"Sam's dead," he repeats. This time it comes out clear; it's a fact. It's nothing more than information. "He's just… gone. I couldn't stop it. I couldn't stop any of it. I-I let it happen again."

Dean feels a sudden need to get off his knees, so he stands. The leaves crackle below his boots as he shifts his feet back and forth, a little manically. "Maybe you're together down there, maybe-" He stops and looks down the road, choking up again. An eighteen-wheeler rumbles by. Things could have been different.

Head hung low, he goes on. "Maybe I'll be with you soon," he murmurs melancholically.

All the Winchesters reunited in Hell, all except…

His mother's grave catches his gaze, a dark, shiny flicker in the corner of his eye. It's right there, but he can't, he can't…

He looks away once more and scratches the back of his neck, suddenly feeling incredibly stupid. Why did he come here? What did this accomplish? Who is he talking to? He feels a tidal wave of embarrassment sweep over him. Why did he come here?

"Well. That's that," he mutters, swiping at his face with the back of his hand.

Dean walks back to someone's (his) pickup truck, back to a life where this conversation never happened and all his dead relatives are just vague, unspoken concepts. Not flesh rotting in the ground.

This isn't his life, not anymore. He was just pretending it was, just for a little while – it was nothing more than a brief interlude. Now it's time to return to show. And maybe, someday, if he works hard enough, the show will become reality and reality will become the show.

Ben has a Little League game tomorrow. If he leaves now, he can still make it.

A/N: I really wish I could write more than angst, I do. I just can't haha. The eighteen-wheeler is a reference to the car wreck Sam, Dean, and John were in at the end of Season 1, in case it was too vague.