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Can't believe that you got me in a suit and tie
I had to take a pull so I wouldn't cry
You got a line out the church door sayin' goodbye
Sam was never the type of guy to get drunk.
Yes, sure, when he was in college before he’d left, he’d been to parties and gotten sufficiently buzzed at the direction of friends as well as previous girl and boyfriends, but the feeling is different today as he pulls the rest down of a long neck and throws it away, adjusting his well worn FBI tie and suit jacket just as the priest who kindly accepted his money in his grief and gave his time he usually wouldn’t have had normally, emerges from his church to beckon Sam in, knees wobbly as he stumbles in under his arm.
Yeah, I believe 'em when they say you're in a better place
You had a wild side but you had amazing grace
It’s only a small place, in the context of what small towns like Canton mean to the state of Ohio at large, but it’s good enough for them right now, as the coffin in front of him covered by cloth really has no opinion or choice on the matter for the moment considering the person within its grasp died yesterday unfairly and unexpectedly.
I know you're way off up in them clouds
But if you can still hear me right now
Sitting in the pews with his throat still raw, he doesn’t feel comfortable hunched over like this and he almost wants to get up and storm out, start screaming at the sky like a raving lunatic, but he refrains as the priest starts to speak, dropping his head almost as if he were in prayer.
I hope you hit those gold streets on two wheels
I hope your mansion in the sky's got a ten-acre field
He can almost see Dean, still alive, still breathing and still everything that mattered to them, as well as everything they had lost and fought for. He could see him in the future, a future he’d painted only days ago, with a wife and kids and farmland, the Impala tucked away in some tin garage ready and waiting for the next trip. It was almost tangible.
With some mud and some hubs you can lock in
Make some thunder, make 'em wonder how you got in
Dean would have been a great dad, a good husband, more than. Those kids would have grown up knowing how to fix cars, ride motorbikes, ride horses and that girl, whatever girl that he decided to settle down with, would have been treated like a queen. He hopes that up wherever he is, he’s giving everyone they knew and know a killing for this.
Hide your beer, hide your clear from the man upstairs
Crank it loud, hold it down till I get there
Knowing Dean, however, the anger would wear off soon enough and he’s just be laughing - his laugh was always the loudest out of the two of them. Sam mostly remembers it from when they acquired that rainbow slinky that still sat in the back of the car which sits outside now, watching almost like himself with a trailer on the back ready for the job of a makeshift herse, the sound trickling out of the picture his mind makes of Dean’s face.
And when I do I hope you got some new stories to tell
Till then, give heaven some hell
He wonders if Cas, the feathery fucking asshole that left Dean behind after breaking his heart and then stomping on it to add to the pain, is with him as well. He really wants to strangle that guy, but at the same time, hopes that he’s taken Dean away and not left him alone.
Dean being alone in death as he was in life once is his worst fucking nightmare.
I bet you're lookin' for a crew like we had
Buncha noise-makin' boys that like to live fast
He hopes that he can find some of the people they’d loved so he’d never be alone again actually till he could follow him. Bobby, Jack, their Dad, their mother, Charlie, Kevin, Adam, Jo, Ellen, hell - he might even have the chance to reunite with Emma, no longer tied to her people and the only child, his own daughter that almost killed him if it weren’t for Sam doing so before him, gotten and lost in days long gone now. Maybe Miracle was even there.
Burnin' rubber in a parkin' lot
Man, I don't know if the other side's ready or not, but
He can almost smell rain outside, even though there’s barely a cloud in the sky, as well as rubber burning the tar, the sound of screeching making him look out the window a few times to make sure the Impala was still there. It wasn’t the first time he did that - Dean used to steal cars in his teen years to sell off and make money while they were with their father going from one end of the US to the other. Somehow, even with Sam as his spotter for most of the carjackings or break-ins using coathangers and magnets and stuff, he was never caught.
I hope you hit those gold streets on two wheels
I hope your mansion in the sky's got a ten-acre field
They’d had some wild adventures together, a lot of them out of hunting circles surprisingly. Of course, most of their lives and resources had been put towards the hunting community at large, but there were those few times where there was no hunting and all the world to see.
With some mud and some hubs you can lock in
Make some thunder, make 'em wonder how you got in
Playing with illegal fireworks, most Christmases on the road when they were growing up being catered for despite their chaotic lives, showing him how to fix that damned car so it would still stay alive, still feel like Dean was around him.
Hide your beer, hide your clear from the man upstairs
Crank it loud, hold it down till I get there
The memories were overwhelming, each one bleeding and segmenting into others to make a tidal wave of nostalgia and hurt that washed over Sam and almost drowned him whole.
And when I do I hope you got some new stories to tell
Till then, give heaven some hell
It got so bad that eventually, he was making new futures out of the bits and pieces he could remember or find in his subconscious. As he thought before, Dean’s kids would have been perfect. He could see a boy with Dean’s features running up to him, his dark blonde and brown hair tickling his chin as he held him- “Don’t be a baby hog bitch, geez.”
I was there when you raised your hands
Heads bowed, singing "Just As I Am"
He can also see Dean’s wedding. It’s a simple affair. It would have been in a barn in some far off place, Sam by his side given Bobby and John couldn't be there, holding his shoulder and laughing quietly behind him as the usually stoic man cried seeing whatever or really whoever tied him down come in white - “Shut up Sammy, you big girl, it’s just pollen. We’re near a field for Christ sake, my eyes just aren’t working, stop laughing.”
Walkin' that aisle, prayin' that prayer
Man, it ain't right but if you gotta be there
He can also ironically see Dean now. He’s sure if he opened his eyes and turned to his right, Dean will be there, somewhere in the reality of almost real to most likely not, hands clasped together against the rough grain of the wooden pew in front of him, praying without a care in the world before getting up and gesturing for Sam to follow - “Up and at'em' Sam.”
I hope you hit those gold streets on two wheels
Hope your mansion in the sky's got a ten-acre field
By the time the service is over, Sam’s on the verge of another emotional breakdown, but attempts to look as sane as he needs to as the priest embraces him, before they both take Dean’s body in its final resting place outside, tyres spinning in the gravel slightly as Sam drives off with it behind him and not in the passenger seat or really, driving, as it should be.
With some mud and some hubs you can lock in
Make some thunder, make 'em wonder how you got in
It takes a long time and a long drive before Sam find the appropriate spot to do what Dean asked of him, stopping at the edge of some field or beach (he wishes he’d taken the time to remember) and getting out just as the sun goes down.
Hide your beer, hide your clear from the man upstairs
Crank it loud, hold it down till I get there
It’s a nice site up this high, but he came to do a job and keep a promise, not look at another sunset and feel more alone than he ever had in his whole life up till now.
And when I do I hope you got some new stories to tell
Till then, give heaven some hell
Carefully, he drags Dean’s coffin to lay unmoving on the grass before he starts to build, dragging branches and logs and anything he can find till Dean is raised and ready to go.
I was there when you raised your hands
Heads bowed, singing "Just As I Am"
With tears running down his face and others floating off into the wind, Sam takes the torch and sets the whole damn thing alight after dousing it, watching with glazed over eyes as his older brother, his best friend, his partner, goes up in flames that aren’t related to Hell for once.
Man, it ain't right, man, it ain't fair
I'll see you again
It’s not too long before he just falls to his knees and starts sobbing while the flames just burn solemnly, not caring if anyone, divine, hellish or human, came across his broken self. No crossroad demon, no deal with any being, could bring dean back and that made the pain that was tearing him open now so much worse.
But till then, give heaven some hell
Eventually, the sobs die down and the fire does as well, till all that’s left is a mound of ash that Sam blows most of into the sky as part of cleaning up so he doesn’t get arrested, hoping that Dean’s soul went up instead of down with its help, before his hands are in his pocket and he slowly turns his back and walks away as stars emerge in the night sky.
For a moment, just one moment, Sam can hear someone walking beside him and turns, only to find nothing by himself, alone and for some reason, it makes him break out in a watery smile the likes of which he hasn’t seen or used in several years.
Sure, Dean is gone and he’s now alone, but he’s never truly alone. Dean’s in his heart and that is all that matters to him. So, several years later when he’s cradling his newborn son to his chest and sees his little eyes looking up at him, he knows exactly who sent him to Earth and lets the quite familiar looking little hand curl around his thumb proudly.
“Hey there Dean. It’s so nice to finally meet you.”