A/N: I really must admit I like writing these little ficlets for Supernatural. I'm in the midst of working on a multi-chapter fic but these are helping me get more of a hold on the characters and how they should be written. I'm trying to be at least moderately IC. : )
Tag to Season 5: Episode 22 'Swan Song'.

Insert witty disclaimer about not owning Supernatural or any of it's world's occupants, here.

Broken

It was over; the apocalypse was averted and Lucifer and Michael were in the cage, perhaps still tearing at each other's throats but no longer posing a threat to the Earth and all the people upon it. Castiel stood by Dean's side, his expression blank as per normal and his eyes fixed upon the point on the ground where the cage had opened and swallowed both of Dean's brothers whole. No sound echoed to them across the empty fields of the cemetery; no redemption in the form of Sam reappearing. Bobby shuffled over, almost scared to be making noise when Dean looked so ready to snap at any moment but the defeated and broken man on the ground didn't make a sound.

His mind couldn't wrap itself around what had just happened; couldn't erase the images of Sam and Adam falling into the pit. That last moment, when Dean and Sam's eyes had connected, Dean had known that was their goodbye. He wasn't ready for this; he wasn't prepared to live his life without his little brother! Why had this happened? Where the Hell was Sam, with his gigantor frame striding back into view and laughing that this was all some big elaborate prank? Someone should have been jumping out and saying 'Gotcha' right now in some cruel but ultimately relieving universal joke.

It was goddamn ironic and in no way humorous that Sam had died to stop something he didn't actually start but had always blamed himself for doing. Sure, the younger Winchester had taken the full blame for letting Lucifer out of the box but just who was it who had broken the first seal? Dean. For being too damn weak to hold out in Hell. That was how his mind saw it as well; the only real thing he had blamed Sam for was betraying him for Ruby. When Dean finally lifted his head and surveyed the area, he couldn't hold back the words that instantly spilled from his lips at the sight of pure emptiness before him.

"… Sammy, where are you…?" Castiel made to open his mouth and provide an answer to the question, but Bobby laid a hand on the Angel's bicep and shook his head imperceptibly, subduing the answer that would only promote anger from Dean. It was a fact that Sam was gone but right now, Dean didn't need to be crapped on even more with the blunt truth being shoved in his face. They stood there for a long while before finally Dean stumbled to his feet and shoved the rings into his pocket; he looked ill and his eyes were grey with misery.

"Let's go," he croaked as he moved towards the Impala and hunched his shoulders as if trying to hide from the world around him.

"Sam saved the world, Dean," Castiel spoke, his eyebrows furrowing in a human display of sympathy and pity. Bobby frowned at the Angel and was about to speak when Dean turned and stared down at the shorter man.

"Great. That's just great, Cass," he said but though the words were spat out in anger, there was no conviction behind them. "But how about you never again mention his name to me?" Castiel frowned and didn't back down from the intense glare he was receiving, instead he tilted his head and furrowed his brow as if trying to understand what Dean was getting at.

"Sam's name is… painful, I understand," Castiel said with a short nod. "I won't ever mention him again."

"That's good, Cass, because if your new and improved wing-set can't dive down and bring him back, then you have no right to ever say his name again," Dean snapped. Bobby knew what was coming now and though he dearly wished to stop the words coming from the younger man's mouth, he knew they had to be said or it was going to eat the last remaining Winchester alive.

"It's all you Angels' fault, y'know? It's God's freakin' fault, too, that my brother is gone! You hear me, Cass, he's gone! Why? Because none of you, not ONE has the ability to deal with your own family and problems! You all had to go with Daddy's plan and because of that, my brother had to DIE! Well thanks very much, Cass, 'Sam saved the world'… yippee freakin' do." With a sharp turn that signaled the end of the conversation, Dean snapped open the door of the Impala and jumped into the driver's seat before Cass could open his mouth again. The engine roared and Dean's eyes focused on the area ahead, their rims tingeing with red and his lips compressed into a line so thin it looked almost invisible.

"G'bye, Cass," Bobby nodded. "Thanks for… y'know, everythin'." The wizened hunter got into the passenger's seat but instantly felt so out of place that the ride back to the junk yard was the most uncomfortable he'd ever experienced. This was Sam's seat and the ice cold vibes radiating off Dean made it an even clearer point that no one ever again was going to be seated there in this car. Bobby didn't seek conversation with Dean; Dean didn't seek conversation with Bobby and at the very least, the silence wasn't awkward.

Once they got back to the old man's place, it was nearing on sunset and though he hadn't spoken the whole drive, Bobby had come up with an idea that he hoped would help Dean put his younger brother to rest. There was nothing in the world that could stop him from knowing that Sam was being tormented in the depths of Hell by the most evil thing out there but perhaps if they buried some of Sam's things then it would feel more 'finalized' as one might say.

"Dean," Bobby said as they shared a beer in his living room for what would more than likely be the last time for a long time.

"Hm," Dean grunted in return as he took another swig of his drink and stared morosely at the carpet.

"… I don't know much about how you're feelin' right now, but maybe, if you want to, we should bury some of Sam's things out back and put up a headstone or somethin' for him?" Dean took another swig of his beer and almost glared at the older man out of the corners of his red rimmed eyes.

"How come you always wanna bury the guy…? He's not gone, I'll find a way to bring him back, it's just gonna take some time." Bobby's lips compressed into a line but he heaved a sigh through his nose and calmed himself down.

"You promised him, Dean," he almost berated but kept his tone sympathetic. A shiver went through the broken man in front of him and Bobby knew he'd overstepped the line, however he really didn't care.

"I promised him a lot of things, Bobby, damn it! I promised him I'd take care of him, look after him, be there for him and I promised Dad, too," Dean snapped, his eyes filling with angry tears that were denied from falling. "I promised I'd get him a normal life, I promised I'd keep him safe and now he's dead, Bobby! I couldn't protect him, I couldn't save him, so the last thing I can do is get him back and save him from being kicked all over that cage like a freakin' rag doll!"

"He asked you to live a normal life, Dean, he did this for you! Don't make his sacrifice in vain, you miserable idiot! And another thing, stop actin' like you're the only damn person who lost someone today? I loved Sam like a son, just like you, and it's killin' me to see him gone and you almost trippin' over yerself to die with him!" Dean stared at the carpet, his shoulders shaking and his eyes wide; scared. Scared of being alone.

"How can…," he choked, pausing to catch himself before continuing. "Aww Bobby, how can I keep goin' without Sammy…? How can I… go back to Lisa and Ben and be happy knowing my brother is down there…?" The tension faded back into mutual understanding and Bobby sighed heavily as he pulled his cap from his head and downed almost half of the remainder of his beer in one hit.

"You just… cram it all into that box like we always do… and go on," he said finally after a long period of silence. Dean shivered again but still didn't shed tears, instead continuing to stare at the carpet in front of him.

"We… we'll bury him," he conceded after almost an hour of silence between the two. The effort it took for Dean to speak those words wrenched at Bobby's heart so powerfully that he couldn't speak. He wasn't one for chick flick moments but the sheer misery emanating from his boy right now was almost overwhelming. Last time, the wheels had been turning in Dean's head already when Sam had been lying on that mattress; Bobby had seen it and then when the proof had walked in the door the next day, his shock had been less than his anger; his anger had been less than his relief. Now, there were no wheels turning, Dean was out of answers and questions and the promise he had made Sam was reverberating around in his head at an intense rate.

Together, they went through the back of the Impala and pulled out Sam's backpack and the pearl handled pistol he'd placed there right before he'd gone to say yes to Lucifer. The pistol was placed in a box along with Sam's laptop, his journal, his phone and his knife; Dean pulled out a hooded jacket and stared at it for a long while before Bobby placed that in the box too. The scent of the damn guy was everywhere and though Dean would hardly consider himself one for remembering how his brother smelled, it reminded him so strongly of Sam that he almost curled into a ball and wept then and there.

Finally, once the bag was empty, they placed one of Sam's shirts, a picture of Dean, Sam and Bobby at Christmas one year and a shotgun that no longer had a use, into the backpack and zipped it up. It didn't feel right to Dean; didn't feel complete at all, but then again, would it really considering Sam was where he was? The box with the remainder of Sam's belongings were put in Bobby's basement and in storage; Dean didn't want them to be buried nor destroyed and he couldn't stomach keeping them himself. They found a clear area out the back of the wrecking yard and together worked to dig a reasonable size hole, placed the bag inside and covered it up again.

By the time they'd finished everything, it was well and truly dark and Bobby's floodlights had come on somewhere behind them. A large cross was placed at the 'head' of the covered hole and Dean sat for a while carving 'Sam Winchester' into the wood; underneath it he carved a light but visible 'Bitch'. Bobby couldn't help but smile at that but didn't pull any attention to it, instead fidgeting nervously before silently asking Castiel if he wanted to come down and watch as well. The invitation must have either been ignored or the angel didn't respond to anyone but Dean; it was obvious the remaining Winchester was in no mood to pray for Cass right now. No words were spoken, no ceremony was given, just the burial of a hunter, friend, son and brother.

"Well, goodbye, kid," Bobby finally said to the grave after quite some time and with a clap of Dean's shoulder, the older man turned and headed back for his home. Dean stood at the edge of the grave for a long time, his eyes watering but his emotional barrier keeping them from falling. Sammy was truly gone now and despite his promise, Dean was going to his best to bring his brother back from the grave; if not from there then at least get him out of Lucifer's cage and into Heaven where the kid belonged. He crouched beside the grave and ran his fingers over the turned earth, tracing a pattern into the dirt that had little meaning before swiping his hand back over it and erasing it again.

"… See you 'round, bro," Dean said, patting the earth affectionately for a moment before standing and heading back towards the Impala. Burying 'Sam' had proved a little therapeutic and for a moment, Dean's mind had been taken off the whole 'tortured in Hell' aspect of his brother's death, but ultimately it didn't give him any peace whatsoever. Bobby met him there with a grim smile and a nod; the two embraced for a moment and a silent apology for the previous fight passed between them.

As the Impala's glaring red rear lights disappeared out the gate of his yard, Bobby shook his head minutely and rubbed his forehead. No, he wouldn't be seeing Dean again for a very, very long time… of that much he was sure. Both of his surrogate sons, gone in one hit and though the older hunter's heart was breaking at the thought… the idea that Dean was going to have a family waiting for him and a life to live and cherish, was enough.

The drive to Lisa's place took him both longer and shorter than he expected and the surprise visit from Cass was welcomed but un-needed; he'd apologized to the angel in his head not long before he'd left Bobby's. The conversation with Castiel was brief, as it usually was and then the angel took off for the last time with a flutter. That moment, when everything was silent in his car and the thought that he would never see Sam nor Castiel again sunk in, Dean felt truly and honestly alone.

Lisa's place loomed in front of him not long after that and Dean felt a flash of joy but a stone of dread dropping into his stomach simultaneously; what the Hell was he going to tell her about all this? He was a broken man, not a boyfriend. Before he even realized what was happening, he was pushing the doorbell and standing outside of her doorway, staring at her kind face and asking if he could take her up on that beer.

What a line to start off with.

As Lisa's arms wrapped around him and he felt his emotions crushing him down, Dean clung to the last thing that would save him from insanity and shuddered under the impact of his lost brother. Her soft voice hushed him but he couldn't stem the flow of pain that was tumbling from him like an almost literal waterfall.

"… He's gone, Lis," Dean sobbed, burying his face in her shoulder and desperately trying to hush himself so he wouldn't wake Ben. "Sam's gone."

End

A/N: Ehh, I think I've written better but I'm glad I got this down. : ) All mistakes are claimed as my own, I proof read it a few times so hopefully I caught everything, but if not, c'est la vie.