Work Text:
Fade in:
INT-SAM’S HOUSE-DAY
SAM WINCHESTER stands before the array of framed photographs, holding a toddler, DEAN WINCHESTER II, in one arm, adjusting one of himself and Dean from decades ago. Pleased with his handiwork and deeply fond of the subjects in the pictures— but the aching sense of loss remains.
SAM (V.O.)
We named you after your uncle. You know that. Dean Winchester the First—he’d like that. He’d love that, actually. You know, I almost didn’t want to because it felt too much like guilt. I know a thing or two about guilt. I’ve been guilty for what feels like most of my life.
But when you showed up, I felt for the first time in a long time like I could maybe forgive myself. For all of it, for your sake. All the mistakes, the wrongdoings, all the blood and death and tears. And of course: for letting him go. For surviving. I almost couldn’t. I almost wanted to keep doing what we did until it got me too—and, you know, I’m not fully there. But I’ll get there, hopefully. Because I made a promise.
INTERCUT WITH: Snapshots of DEAN WINCHESTER driving in HEAVEN.
INTERCUT WITH: Snapshots of Sam’s life—
Back at the MEN OF LETTERS BUNKER, packing up the library—
Stepping into SAM’S HOUSE, empty, blanket-swaddled infant (Dean Jr.) in his arms. Looking lost, but determined—
OUTSIDE, an older Sam playing catch with Dean Jr., now around twelve—
Back in SAM’S HOUSE, in his home library, on the phone with someone, reading out of a lore book—
SAM
Yeah, they’re called Vetalas. Vetalas. (beat) No. No, you know I don’t do that anymore. But if you want info, according to the lore...
In SAM’S HOUSE, Sam in his late forties, helping Dean Jr. with his homework—
In SAM’S GARAGE, a still older Sam sits in the Impala, heavy with grief for his brother, awash in the memories that they made in that car.
SAM (V.O.) (CONT’D)
And more than that, I know what it’s like to live under the shadow of grief and fear and anger and pain. There’s some satisfaction in never letting something go, believe me when I say I know that firsthand, but that’s what killed my father. That’s how my brother and I got caught in that same endless loop that was the reason he never got to grow old.
So for Dean, and then for you, I chose to continue. And I chose peace. Because letting go isn’t forgetting. He’ll always be a part of me. Of us. Losing him won’t ever stop hurting. I just decided to try carrying forward only the good from all of it, finally try to leave the bad buried where it belongs. Things don’t always stay buried, I definitely know that too, but I guess we can deal with those things as they come. Thanks to my brother and everything he was and everything he taught me, I knew how to do all that. So long, long story short, I guess, we chose family. After all... wasn’t that kind of the whole point?
BACK TO: The first scene with Sam, Dean Jr. and the wall of photographs. We close in on Sam, who smiles.