"Heya, Sammy.

I know, I know: this isn't my style. No chick flicks and no letters and no feelings - but I'm feeling sappy enough today. And slightly drunk on that fruity shit Mrs Butters got us tonight, so this is what you get.

The fact alone that you're finding this, tells me that something probably went wrong; or, you know, right: it'all a matter of perspective.

If you're going through my stuff, you either gained a lot of stealth I didn't know you had - or I'm not there to stop you. And if that's the case, I guess you have my permission to snoop around as much as you want.

Just not the box under the bed. I mean it, Sammy. And you probably don't wanna know anyway.

But back to the point: letter.

I don't know, I guess I'm feeling nostalgic. We just celebrated a year worth of holidays in like a month, and miraculously managed to actually celebrate your birthday on the right day.

Call me sappy, but that's gotta be worth something.

We should have done this more. Just lay back, blow out the candles, and remind ourselves we're people, too.

Don't get me wrong, things are far from perfect; hell, things are far from even just okay , but you were happy tonight. I could see it.

37 years old looked damn good on you, little brother. I hope it's not the last one. I hope it's not the last one I get to see.

I know we're in over our heads with all this God stuff. And I know neither one of us really has a clue how in the world this is going to end.

What I do know is that chances are, one of us isn't going to make it. And I hope it's me.

I know, I know: so do you, we go together. I don't wanna leave you on your own Sammy. For a really long time I thought this was a one way thing: that no matter how much I needed you by my side, you were going to be okay without me. I get that's not how it works now.

But you have so much to offer to this world, Sammy. So damn much. You're the smartest man I ever met; how you manage to still wear your heart on your sleeve after all the shit we've been through, I'll never know - but you still do. God help me Sam, you still believe.

In something; someone. In what you can do. In Jack, in Cas. In us. In me.

It's wonderful and it's scary and man, I hope you're not reading this because I really don't wanna miss whatever you do next, once all this is over and we get a chance to be normal. Or whatever normal looks like for too tall sasquatches with enough trauma to send their therapist to a therapist.

You deserve so much more than you got. 37 is more than either of us ever expected to get, but it's not enough. Not even close.

I want you old, little brother. I want you so fucking old you don't even remember your name half the time. I want you fat and gray and bored out of your mind.

I want you to have kids. I want you and Eileen - and god, Sammy, you better not screw that up because that girl is a saint - to get a life and have kids.

I want you to be a father, little brother. Better than dad ever was, better than I could ever be for you.

I want a mini Winchester with your eyes in the world, calling me Uncle Dean. I want you to see your life go right and I can only hope to be a part of that.

I never dared to make plans, you know? I never actually let myself believe my life would be anymore than pain and fighting. Butch and Sundance, blaze of glory: that was my light at the end of the tunnel, and I can still be okay with that; if that's what it takes, if that's the only way to take out Chuck, then so be it.

But if it isn't, if we do somehow get to spend another year on this shithole of a planet, then Sammy - I'm gonna make sure we're living.

I'm talking vacation, I'm talking actual beach and sand. Hell, I'll even get you a dog for your birthday next year if you want.

We earned this, little brother. This is a really long time coming.

If we make it out, we're done. I don't know what that means or what it looks like, but we are.

I don't wanna spend the rest of my life bloody, and I sure as hell don't wanna see you live the rest of yours that way, either. Once Chuck's gone, we pass the torch to someone else, let the new kids have a go at this whole hero thing and finally allow ourselves the rest we earned. We've given enough - hell, we've given everything a hundred times over for this shitty little planet that keeps trying to die on us and I would go through it all again if it means you come out the other side and finally get some of that peace I've been promising you for fifteen years.

I can't wait to see the rest of your life, little brother. I know it's gonna be great.

But just in case I don't get to, just in case you find this letter for all the wrong reasons - if there is one thing I need you to remember is that I am proud of you. I did a lot of things in my life, and despite everything I have a lot to be glad for - but my greatest accomplishment always was and always will be being your big brother. You're stronger than me, stronger than dad, stronger than any of us - and I hope to God (huh, or maybe not) I am there to annoy you into remembering it every day, but just in case I don't get that chance, I am telling you right now: you can do this, you can go on without me and make a life for yourself; live a little for the both of us.

Don't forget about me but don't live in my shadow. The only legacy I ever gave a rat's ass about were you and my wheels. And remember that there is nothing you could ever do to let me down.

I'm probably just being dramatic; we'll come up with something, we always do, and I am going to fight like hell to not go anywhere. I want those umbrella drinks and that sand in my toes. Maybe I'll open my own bar, teach Cas how to make drinks and have him stare at all the creepy drunks until they leave; or I'll send my application to the fire academy and find a slightly less dangerous way to help people… doesn't matter, I'll hash out the details some other time.

That being said - good luck to us. Or whatever. I am now gonna stop with the emotional honesty (shit's more exhausting than it has any right to be) and go see if there's any turkey left.

But remember what I said, Sammy. Always.

Love you,

Dean."