The Ghost of You

Their next case made the local news, that's where Sam found the article when he was scrolling away on his computer. He was able to figure out what it was without even cracking open a single lore book. A nest of vampires had been wreaking havoc in some small town one state line over. It was a textbook case -- a milk run, to quote Dean.

It was something easy, something they could have sliced and diced together in true Winchester fashion with their eyes blindfolded and hands tied behind their backs. Yet Dean was the one who said, "Don't worry, Sammy, I can take care of it. It's practically a milk run, give me two days tops." Of course, Sam protested, but he hadn't been able to do much more than that before Dean already had one boot out of the bunker, pre-packed duffle bag slung over his shoulder and car keys jingling as he twirled them around the end of his finger.

He figured Dean maybe just wanted some alone time as they had been stuck on the road traveling across the country together the week prior. It had been a case in Maine involving a witch bitch, again, to quote Dean, who thought she was basically God and the whole thing turned out to be a bigger pain in the ass than they initially anticipated.

By the time Dean had already driven off in the Impala, Sam was still seated at the table in the bunker's library, laptop cracked open, and the news article still displayed on his most recent tab. Dumbfounded at Dean's unusual behavior, he tried brushing off the queasy feeling that had begun to settle in the pit of his stomach after it was apparent that Dean was going solo this time -- solo as in without Sam.

The whole ordeal made him uneasy, but nonetheless, he figured that Dean knew what he was doing and instead would just patiently wait for the phone call from Dean in two days' time, telling him the job was done and he was on his way home.

Yet that never happened...not exactly. He still received a phone call two days later, but not from Dean.

It was Bobby. After watching his phone light up and Bobby's name flash across the screen, that uneasy feeling had settled right back in the pit of his stomach again, only this time the painful twinges pierced a little deeper and lingered a little longer, like a really bad after taste.

Bobby hated that he had to break the news to Sam, but he'd rather it be him than some other random hunter who'd been there and made it out when Dean couldn't. From what he had gathered from the other hunters who were there, Dean had been brutally ripped apart, limb-by-limb. He spared Sam those details, but it still didn't help any in breaking the news.

Sam didn't take the call very well. Hell, he didn't take the following week very well. Not when Bobby came back with what was left of Dean. Not when they gave Dean a proper hunter's funeral in the field behind the bunker. Not when Sam was in Dean's room flipping through old photos. Not when he broke down in the middle of the night after falling asleep under the sheets on Dean's bed.

Sam was beyond devastated and trying to figure out how to cope and live his life without Dean, but he was failing miserably.

But just as he was beginning to lose all hope in trying to live in the absence of his brother, Dean was suddenly back again...just not in the flesh.

It had been a cloudy evening in Kansas. Sam had needed to get out of the bunker, even if just for a little while. On a whim, he had grabbed the keys to the Impala and set off down the road, no place in mind, just anywhere that didn't constantly remind him of deandeandean. Which, in hindsight, wasn't thought completely through since he was literally driving his brother's car around.

Sam had to derail his train of thought just before he drove himself off the deep end again for the millionth time that week. As he rolled up to the stop sign at the end of the street, he suddenly felt the temperature in the car drop, and just as he exhaled, he caught sight of his own breath leaving his mouth in a white, vaporous cloud. He stiffened at the realization that more than likely there was a ghost in the car with him, and he's automatically thinking iron and salt, iron and salt, yet for some strange reason he couldn't move.