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Sammy catches Dean in the hallway kissing a girl.
'I don't even know her name,' his frown tells Sam. ‘She’s not you.’
She’ll never be Sam. He can’t say that out loud. Never.
He doesn’t know that Sam wonders if he’s finally been replaced.
Sammy says he’s gonna go to Stanford. Gonna make something of his life.
”Please,’ the word sits on the tip of his tongue. ‘Don’t go.’
He doesn’t tell Sam not to, though. He doesn’t want to hold him back. Not anymore.
He’ll never know that all he needed to keep from leaving was “stay,” and Sam would have.
Late-night phone calls and neither of them know what to say.
'I miss you', the phrase burns at the back of his throat. ‘Come home.’
He doesn’t say it out loud. The silence over the phone line buzzes in his ear.
He can’t see Sam’s white-knuckled grip on the telephone, the tears in his eyes.
Dad’s missing. It gives Dean a reason to go see Sam.
'Come be a family again,' the thought makes him shiver. ‘For God’s sakes, stay.’
While he doesn’t voice the words, he hopes Sam does anyway.
He’s not aware of the violent chills that run through Sam when they lock eyes.
Sammy tells him he can’t stick around. Got some hot-shot interview in the morning.
‘What’s more important than this?’ the question makes his stomach burn. ‘You need to be here.’
He won’t ask it, though. He smiles and nods. Drives away even though it don’t feel right.
He doesn’t see Sam’s eyes blink back tears. Doesn’t understand that it’s different now.
Sam’s having nightmares about his dead girlfriend. Dean knows he can’t help.
'I'm glad you're home', he refuses to say. ‘It hasn’t been the same without you.’
The guilty words stay behind closed lips. The words are lost in guitar solos from old speakers.
He doesn’t see that Jess isn’t only unattainable person that haunts Sam’s dreams.
Sammy’s dying on his knees under a full moon. This wasn’t supposed to happen.
'I just got you back,' the words strangle in his throat. ‘You can’t leave me now.’
He chokes on the first word. It’s all his fault and now his brother’s dead.
He doesn’t understand that Sam would do it all over again for him.
It’s been a few days. No amount of mojo will bring Sammy back.
‘I need you,’ the silent words hang in the corner of his mouth like day-old blood. ‘Wish it was me.’
He wants to scream them at the walls. He’s collapsing in on himself. Why, why, why?
He can’t know that Sam’s heaven is of Dean and starry nights. That still, nothing beats the real thing.
He makes a deal with one of Hell’s bitches. Sammy’s worth it.
‘It’s okay,’ he wants to tell Sam. ‘It’s all for you.’
After all, it’s always been. If Sam’s the reason for livin’, then he sure as hell’s a good reason for dyin’.
He doesn’t see that, after opening his eyes for the first time in days, the first thing Sam looks for is Dean.
The clock is ticking, but it doesn’t matter. Sammy’s okay and in his arms.
‘I love you,’ the unsaid words hang off his parted lips. ‘Don’t let go.’
Though he doesn’t say the words out loud, the message is loud and clear.
"Me, too, Dean," Sam exhales.
He’ll never know that Sam’s always been his.