Gone

A/N: set just after the 3rd season where Dean was sent to hell.

Gone:

Despite the sweltering hot temperatures outside, Sam felt incredibly cold. He could hear his phone ringing from the other side of the room as he buried himself into the motel bed sheets, the stiff mattress making his entire body ache. He groaned as he rolled over and lay flat on his stomach, pushing his head into lumpy pillow as hard as he could, trying to block out the noise from the room and the world around him.

He curled his body into the fetal position, finding it seemingly impossible to be able to get himself comfortable on the motel bed. He groaned again as he heard his phone going off. He knew exactly who it would be on the other end; it was either going to be Bobby or Ellen. And he knew that they’d only ask him if he was okay and beg him to talk about it. He’d stopped answering his phone after the first couple of weeks of every five minute phone calls. He’d even had to change the hotel he was staying at a few times because they’d always managed to track him down. But the ache in his chest from the moment he slid into the driver’s seat of his brother’s much loved Impala was beginning to get too much.

It didn’t matter how much he tried not to think about it, the harsh reality always seemed to hit him like a tonne of bricks being dropped on his head: Dean was dead and he was never coming back.

Thinking about Dean’s death brought back other painful memories. He was much too young to remember his mother’s death but had been shown it by the yellow-eyed demon, almost as a way of torture. It made him angry to see it but he felt nothing else. After all, there was nothing he could do, this was only a memory.

His father’s death had stung him, much like he had been shot through the heart. His father and he had never been all that close, but to lose his father was hard to come to terms with. His biggest regret was that he’d been arrogant enough to pick a fight with him not even five minutes before he died. The regret filtered through his mind and made him want to hunt more and more, almost as if he was trying to make up for the feeling of himself being what he always deemed a ‘lousy son’. But he’d always thought he was worthless compared to his brother.

His girlfriend Jessica’s death had been much worse, it had felt like someone had reached into his chest and pulled his heart out and thrown it away, the sight of her pinned to the wall, her abdomen bleeding before he witnessed her burst into flames above him was almost too much for him to handle. It was lucky that his brother had stayed around just a little while longer to pull him out of his dorm and to safety before his entire apartment was engulfed with flames. He owed so much to Dean for saving him. Not only his life, but pulling him out of the depression, the slump that he’d fallen into after Jessica’s death, the pain and fear of revisiting the frightening death scene every night when he fell asleep would have been hell if he was on his own, but he had his brother to help him try and get that heart back from the fiend that tore it out in the first place. Even though he knew that heart was never going to be replaced properly, he could try and move on with his life, never forgetting Jessica, but trying to push away from the past, the darkness and into the bright and welcoming future.

But Dean’s death was the worst pain he could have ever imagined in his life.

He was there when the hell hounds ripped apart his brother while Lilith had him pinned against the wall. He watched his brother writhing in agony as the invisible dogs ripped his only remaining family member apart, heard his pained screams, wished there was something he could do to stop it but failed as he watched the light leave Dean’s eyes, his mangled and broken corpse lying flat on the ground in the suburban town house where they’d located Lilith in the first place. It didn’t help his conscience that Dean had given up everything he had by making a deal with the crossroads demon and sacrificing himself to bring his own sorry ass back from the dead. It just wasn’t fair the way some things worked out. It’s not like he asked to be brought back, its not like he asked to be the reason for his brother’s death, it’s not like he wanted to be alone. His biggest regret so far was being born. If he hadn’t been born then none of this would have happened. Just to imagine his mother and father stopping at having one child, not two sons that would ruin their lives, tarnish the name of Winchester.

It just didn’t feel right to him. Dean had done absolutely everything under the sun to make sure he’d stay alive, to save his brother, but when it was time for him to go, Dean didn’t even want him to try and save him. It was like fighting a losing battle. He’d lost the last remaining member of his family. He was the last Winchester that was still alive on this earth and he knew damn well that his days were getting more and more numbered as the weeks wore on.

He grumbled as finally rolled himself out of bed, out of the clean, white bed sheets and he finally felt the hotness that surrounded the room. He wiped his forehead with the back of his head, still ignoring the obnoxious noise of his phone ringing from deep within his bag, the irritating ring tone, being drowned out as he buried himself further into his head. He walked over to his bag, digging though it until he found what he was looking for – his father’s journal – and he pulled it out, letting it rest on his lap for a few moments.

He’d made a promise not to himself, but to Dean to find a way to help him, to bring him back. He buried Dean a few towns back in an unmarked grave where only he would know where it was. He flipped through his father’s journal, looking for something that would help him, something that would bring Dean back but found nothing. Nothing but some scribbled notes about a Crossroads Demon, which would do nothing but end up with him in his death bed, considering he shot the last one in the face with the colt.

He fingers curled around the page and accidentally pulled out some photos that were being held in by a paperclip. He looked over the first one, staring intently at the way he, his brother and his father seemed so happy sitting on the bonnet of what used to be their dad’s car, cuddled in close to each other, smiling in their flannelette attire. He ran the tip of one of his fingers over the outline of his father and his brother’s heads, feeling the slight indentation from the old photograph. He had to hold back the tears as he moved it away, out of the sight.

It was the next photo that brought out the first tear, the first of the salty tears dripping right onto Dean’s head. It was a picture of the two of them, taken not too long ago in Bobby’s house, arms wrapped around each other’s shoulders, both holding onto a bottle of beer while pulling goofy smiles and Dean giving the ‘rock on’ gesture to the camera. They looked so happy the pair of them, they were more then brothers when this was taken. And boy did he know it. Dean was his best friend and he knew Dean felt the same way about him.

“You’re gone.” He said softly, running his finger over his brother, the tears leaking out from his eyes and onto the photo, leaving large marks on the photo. He cursed himself inwardly. He’d ruined another photo.

He put the photos back into the journal and closed it before tossing the journal absentmindedly onto the floor. He collapsed back onto the bed, curling into the fetal position, and burying his face against the white pillow, letting his emotions go, the tears flowing from his eyes and staining the pillow beneath him. He was hiding from the world, but more from the spirit of Dean he could feel following him around, not wanting his brother to see him like this, a wreck, a broken fucking wreck.

Dean was gone but that didn’t mean he wasn’t going to stop searching for a way to help him. But Today wasn’t the day he was going to start searching.

END.

A/N: thank you for reading. i dont normally write supernatural stuff but this came to me one day and i just wrote it all out. thank you for reading again. much appreciated :)
xx.