Sorry I didn't post yesterday it's been a crazy week!

This is the final installment of this particular fic.

Please enjoy.

~TH~

"I'm not hungry Bobby."

"It's Thanksgiving Sam. At least try to eat something." Bobby answered Sam's whisper from where the boy was sitting, staring at the food. Bobby sat across from him, taking small bites off the store bought turkey. Bobby had considered going out or inviting people over. But Sam wouldn't have it. He didn't want a party or a celebration.

"What's there to be Thankful for? I'm not seeing anything." There was disgust and a tinge of self directed anger in his voice.

Bobby could see where he was coming from. They were all dealing with a heap ton of guilt. They didn't really see anything to be thankful for.

Bobby had thought about trying to make the food instead of getting store bought stuff for their small Thanksgiving meal. But Dean had always been the one to take care of it. Dean had always been the one to take care of a lot of things.

Sam had been quiet since his return from D.C. Bobby almost felt bad for him. His pity and anger constantly warred when he saw the young man. Benny didn't have the problem, flat our refusing to be anywhere near the youngest Winchester. Bobby couldn't blame him. It was probably for the best anyway. The guilt was eating away at Sam. For the first few days it had been constant denial. Reassurances that Dean would show up, alive. But when no new word came, the hope seemed to drain away. Sam finally rested at the conclusion everyone else had come to. Dean was dead. It was intentional. And it was their fault.

The phone began to ring. Sam looked up at it before glancing away and hunching over the table. Every ring of the phone seemed to remind them that the person they wanted it to be calling would never call them again.

"I need some air." Sam mumbled, forcefully pushing away from the table and hurrying outside.

Bobby sighed, looking at the now empty seat. The phone continued to ring much to his annoyance."Don't the idjits know it's a holiday?" Bobby grumbled under his breath, going to pick up the phone.

"Hello?" he answered, his voice gruff and about as unpleasant as he felt.

"Bobby?" A quiet voice answered.

Bobby nearly dropped the phone. He glanced outside seeing him standing on the porch.

"Dean?" He breathed.

"Uh, yeah, yeah. It's me."

"You-you're alive?" He couldn't get over the shock. If this was some sort of trick he'd kill the person on the other line. Without remorse.

"Yeah, yeah I-I'm sorry. I know I should have called I just-"

Bobby could hear the distress on the other end and could imagine the young man running a hand through his hair. "Are you okay? Are you hurt?

"No, I-I'm good. Honest. I just… I just needed to get away."

"The police found your car-"

"I'm sorry." He whispered, "I just… I-I wanted a clear break. I didn't even think- I wasn't sure- Sorry."

Bobby refused to let the tears fall. He wasn't a girl. "So… how've you been?

"Good I've been… really good actually. I've got a job down here and my own apartment." There was a small laugh. "I thought getting my own room was nice. But I've got my own kitchen, Bobby! I've never had so much space! And it's so… quiet." Bobby could hear the excitement in the boy's voice and it made his heart ache. Dean had never really had anything of his own. And he'd never had much privacy. Even when he'd finally been given John's room there seemed to always be people banging on his door at all hours needing help with some thing or another.

"Where's here?" Bobby couldn't help but ask.

"How's everything in Sioux Falls?"

He wasn't even trying to hide the deflection. Bobby received the message loud and clear. Dean called the landline to ensure they wouldn't get his number. And he wouldn't be telling them where he was. This was a complimentary call. Dean had no plans of coming back.

"Good. Everything's… good." Besides the fact that they'd spent nearly a week thinking Dean was dead. And the weeks before that looking and wondering.

"He should be back from his trip, right?" Bobby had wondered if and when Sam would come up. Bobby noticed but didn't comment on the lack of saying his name.

"Yup. Been home a couple of days now." He looked out the window to where Sam had taken up residence on the front steps and was sitting oblivious to the conversation. "Do you want to talk to him?"

"No! No. I-I don't- it's fine. He's okay though, right?"

"He's really sorry, Dean. He knows he screwed up."

"Uh, yeah. Are you guys out of the money I left? I can send some more if you are. I've got a pretty good gig down here."

"We're doin' fine up here. You just- just take care of yourself."

"Yeah," It was said almost wistfully, "You too, Bobby."

Bobby cleared his throat. "Maybe- maybe you could think about coming up for Christmas?"

"Maybe… Bobby I'm not so sure-"

"Just for a couple of days. I'm not- I'm not going to ask you to come back Dean." Heaven knew he wanted to, but he respected Dean too much to do that. The fact that Dean was even giving him a phone call was a show of good graces he wasn't so sure he even deserved.

"I'll- we'll see. It was good to talk to you Bobby. Happy Thanksgiving. Take care of him." The line dropped before Bobby was given a chance to respond.

Slowly, feeling the whirlwind of emotions, he opened the door to outside.

"Sam?"

The boy looked up.

"Don't. You can't make this better so don't even try,"

"Dean's alive."

Sam jerked to his feet, eyes wide. "How?"

"That was him on the phone. He called to say that he was alive and doing good."

"Can I talk to him? Did he say when he was coming back?"

Bobby sighed, "I don't think he's going to be coming back."

That seemed to take Sam a moment to process. "What? Why wouldn't he come back? This is his home!"

"Sam, what…" He stopped himself from saying, what you did, "Happened," he decided instead, "really hurt him. I think he's afraid of getting hurt again."

"But I'm sorry, Bobby! I just- I just need to tell him that! I won't do it again. I won't even look at alcohol, I swear. Just… just tell him to come back. Please."

"I told him you were sorry, but I'm not going to tell him to come back. He's an adult. He should be working to finish his last year of college, not working two jobs and sleeping on his few hours off. If he wants to get away from here and from the memories… well I can't exactly say that I blame him."

Sam didn't say anything, looking guilty. "But you told him I was sorry?"

"I did." Bobby wouldn't mention the fact that Dean couldn't even say his name. Or that Dean had flat out refused to talk to Sam. The kid felt bad enough as it was.

"And he's alive?"

"Alive and doing well."

"I guess that's something at least."

"Something to be thankful for."

"Yeah. It's something."

~SPN~

He was driving faster and faster and faster. A sign for the Kansas River caught his eye. He took the turn too hard and he felt his Baby rock at the mistreatment. He didn't care. He sped up until the impala was truly at her limit. He knew he should slow down but didn't care.

Dean couldn't think. He wasn't sure how long he had been driving. But he had been exhausted before he started. He was in Kansas so four hours? Five? He didn't know and he wasn't sure that he cared. It was like his brain had stopped functioning. He just kept going and going and going and going and he needed to go away faster and faster. He didn't want to stop. Didn't know he could. The road turned off and he knew he should but he didn't. He Baby go faster and faster away, away, away. He was nearing the edge of the overlook leading to the river. From the looks of it it went straight down. He should stop. He should. But he couldn't.

How appropriate. Fire had ruined his life, might as well have water end it.

He let the car run until he could almost see over the edge. Then his foot came down so hard on the break so hard that he hit head off of the steering wheel. The Impala screeched to a halt.

Dean sat there, panting, leaning his throbbing head on the steering wheel. He was at the very edge before the river. If he stopped even a moment later he'd be dead. "Sorry, Baby." He whispered to the car.

Now what was he supposed to do? He could always drive off. Who would stop him? Who would care?

But no. He couldn't. And something else he knew is he couldn't drive anymore in this car. In Dad's car. Too many memories. The good had always overwritten the bad. But now… every good memory seemed to be overshadowed with a stab of pain. Of Sam. Of Sam hating him enough to… to…

He couldn't stay with the car.

He ruffled through the glove department finding a semi-clean sheet of paper and grabbed a pen that was sitting in one of the cup holders. Biting the lid off of the pen, he pressed the paper against the steering wheel.

Bobby,

Take care of her.

He hesitated a moment. Before adding.

And take care of Sammy.

-Dean

As an afterthought he added Bobby's phone number before laying the note on the dash.

He didn't even bother removing the keys before getting out of the car and slamming the door shut. He patted the top of Baby in a final goodbye and took off towards the nearest town. It was time to start over.

~TH~

And that's that!

Thank you so much for your kind reviews!

You guys are the best!

I have plans for a third fic but it might be a bit. Maybe over Thanksgiving break I can start working on it. But it depends on if you guys want Dean to come back or stay gone lol. If you want him to stay away I can end it here but if you want him to at least return I may be able to work something out. I have ideas. Like I said it would just take a bit.

Anyway, thank you so much! Please let me know what you think!

God bless,

Jamie