Letting Go

CHAPTER 1

WARNING! CONTAINS MAJOR SPOILERS!
This story begins at the end of the final season of Supernatural. So if you haven't watch the entire series yet, you may not want to read this.

I DO NOT own any characters from the Supernatural Series and I am not profiting from this work.

Sam trudged down the stairs of the bunker followed closely by Miracle. The shaggy dog seemed to be in the same sullen and somber mood that Sam was in. She didn't jump up and down, barking or try to play like usual. And even if she had, it was doubtful that Sam would have noticed. His mind was still in the clearing where he had held the hunter's funeral for his older brother, Dean. And where Sam had laid him to his final rest.

It had taken him the better part of a day, cutting the wood and building the pyre. He seemed to run on autopilot, almost unaware of what he was doing until it was done. By the time he was finished, the sun was close to setting and the sky itself seemed to be a blaze in anticipation of the fallen hunter's final journey. Miracle whined when Sam stepped back and flicked open Dean's Zippo before he threw it onto the the pyre.

"Yeah girl, I know", Sam whispered. "I'm gonna miss him too." Miracle looked up at Sam with her big dark eyes and barked. It was almost as if she knew what he was saying. Sam sighed, staring deeply into the fire. The fire that made this all so final. So permanent. His eyes drifted up with the dark smoke and watched it climb higher until it disappeared, hopefully taking Dean's soul with it. The emotion welled up in his throat, pushing hot tears from his eyes and down his cheeks. "Goodbye Dean", he breathed as a sob was forcefully pushed up his throat and out of his mouth. He covered it quickly with his hand, staring down at his feet. Miracle sidled up close to Sam's leg, whining. He sat down on the grass and pulled the dog into his lap. Sam hugged her tight, burying his face in her soft fur as he let his grief overtake him.

Back in the bunker he sat alone in the dim library staring down at the three initials and two names carved in the wooden table. D.W., S.W., M.W., Castiel, and Jack. Sam ran a shaking finger over the D.W., thinking back to the day they had carved their initials there. They had been sitting there wondering what their legacy would be. Wondering if in 100 years if they would be remembered. Sam had said that he thought that all the people they had saved over the years was their legacy. That they left the world better than they had found it. Dean wondered if other hunters would move into this place after they were gone. He could see Dean pulling out his pocket knife and carving his initials into the table top and then handing the knife to his brother with a smile. Sam couldn't help but smile at the memory.

"What do I do know, Dean?", Sam croaked, his voice thick with emotion. "I can't do this without you!" He buried his face in his hands as tears weld up in his eyes again.

"Yes you can, Sammy", that all to familiar voice growled from across the table. Sam knew the voice was only in his head, but when he looked up, Dean was there, leaning far back in the chair with his arms folded across his chest. He had his feet propped up on the table with his ankles crossed and he was looking at Sam with a disappointed look on his face.

"But, I don't want to!", Sam sobbed. Dean sighed, dragging his feet off the table and dropping them loudly onto the floor. He stared at Sam, looking more than a little pissed off.

"SAM! LOOK AT ME!" Sam raised his head slowly, dreading what the Dean in his head was going to say. "You are a hunter, Sammy. You know how to do the job!" Sam looked away pitifully. He didn't want to do the job. He wanted to sit here and feel sorry for himself.

"TOUGH FUCKIN' SHIT!", Dean snarled. Sam looked up at Dean in surprise. Had Dean heard his thoughts? "Yes, Sammy! I hear everything!" Since this Dean was only a figment of his imagination, it only made sense. "Dad didn't raise us to feel sorry for ourselves, Sam! He raised us to get the job done!"

"I CAN'T!", Sam screamed, slamming his fists down hard on the table. When Sam looked up, the chair across from him was empty. Dean was gone. Sam squeezed his eyes shut and rubbed his temples hard with the heals of his hands. This was insane! Now he was talking to people that weren't there. Maybe a beer would help settle his nerves. Sam stood up and walked toward the kitchen with his head down and his hands in his pockets. He stood in the doorway of the pitch black kitchen remembering the time Dean had gotten him to eat regular bacon after convincing him it was veggie bacon. Sam laughed out loud when he remembered the ridiculous name Dean had called himself. 'The Meat Man'. Sam flipped on the light and there sat Dean at the kitchen table, a plate of bacon in front of him and taking a slug of his beer.

"It's not a ridiculous name, Sam! I AM The Meat Man!" Dean stuffed a whole piece of greasy bacon into his mouth and crunched it loudly. Sam snorted and walked toward the fridge.

"That doesn't mean what you think it does, Dean", Sam groaned, twisting the top off the bottle and taking a swig.

"Yeah, whatever, Mr. know-it-all.", Dean grumbled. Sam sat down at the table across from the imaginary Dean and took another long swallow of his beer. Dean held the plate of bacon up under Sam's nose and Sam could actually smell the charred strips of pork flesh.

"You wanna piece?", Dean asked around a half chewed piece of meat. Sam made a disgusted face and Dean shrugged, setting the plate back down in front of himself. "Your loss! This is kick ass bacon, right here!" Sam stared at Dean while his brother munched on the strips of meat and Dean stopped chewing and stared back.

"What?, Dean barked with his mouth crammed full. His cheeks were puffed out like a squirrel with a mouth full of nuts and that reminded him of the pet names that Crowley had given them years ago. Moose & Squirrel. But he was getting off track here.

"Why are you here, Dean?", Sam whispered. Dean's eyes scrunched together in confusion. He began to chew again and swallowed everything in his mouth at once, making him wince.

"Um... because I'm hungry?" The way he stated it as a question told Sam that Dean had no idea what he was talking about.

"No, I mean, why are you here? You're in my head! You're not real!" Dean looked back at Sam and smirked.

"I'm here because you want me to be, Sammy", Dean said. "Somewhere, deep down, you need me to be here." Dean popped the last piece of bacon into his mouth and groaned in delight of the delicious taste. He swallowed loudly then looked back up at Sam.

"Why is a question only you can answer, Brother."