was in one of those kinda sad reflective moods today, not sure why, but this just came to me. hope everyone enjoys...bambers;)


Sam's fingers shook as he lit the match, and threw it into the pile of wood he'd gathered into a long pile. The strong acrid scent of gasoline and smoke filled the cool night air. He brushed aside the tears flowing down his cheeks, and stood back away from the growing flames.

Golden light reflected in his hazel eyes as he gathered his nerve to speak. No one expected him to. Hell, there wasn't even anyone there to hear what he had to say. And even if he could, what words would be enough to show what he was feeling? He knew they needed to be perfect. To be just the right words to express his loss.

Words had always been his thing. With just a simple turn of a phase he could always find out exactly whatever information he'd been searching for. He knew Dean would say it was geeky to actually love how saying just the right thing could effect someone so profoundly. But Sam did, and always had until this precise moment.

He knew he didn't have to say anything. Knew what was left unsaid, was understood. Some things just didn't need to be explained. They just were. Like why the sky turned dark and cloudy before a storm or when a small child clung to their mother when frightened. And it made sense. At least it made sense until those things left unsaid ate a hole in your heart so large that there was no room for anything else.

Sam heaved a deep regretful sigh, shifting uncomfortably in the cold dark night. He felt the scorching heat of the fire upon his face, but refused to move any further way.

He'd thought to speak of sacrifice, and how it was what they'd always done. Sacrificing everything so that evil never had a chance to do to others what it had done to them. The words formed on his lips and then faded away. If there was ever something that needed to be left unsaid, it was that. It was another thing that was just understood.

There were other subjects he could've touched on, the good times, the things they'd shared along the way, the many hardships they'd endured, and how they'd somehow always managed to come out ahead until now, but the dead didn't need to know about those things. They already lived them.

But if not those things, what could he say? What would express all the sadness in his heart? How it broke just a little more with each passing day.

Sam knew he could just say nothing. No words had ever really been necessary between them. It had always made things easier in the past. To brush things under the rug, and move on. And if it hurt to do so, then that was brushed aside as well. But to not say anything would've been a slap in the face to the man who had given everything for him, and no rug would be large enough to sweep that under.

So, with sad heart, he began.

"Hey, Dean. Bobby wanted to be here, but this was something I had to do alone. I knew you would understand."

Sam lowered his head, wiping away the tears in his eyes. A broken laugh caught on his lips as he imagined Dean rolling his eyes at what he would've considered the mother of all chick-flick moments.

"Was just gonna stand here, and give you a moment of silence. You would've probably liked that better, but I just can't leave things unsaid anymore." Sam grasped hold of the amulet he wore around his neck that had belong to Dean, hoping it would give him courage to say all that was in his heart to say.

"You were always the best of us. The quiet strength that kept the family from falling apart. You never asked for more than what was given to you, and we never appreciated that enough."

"How do I even begin to say goodbye or to tell you how sorry I am for all the things I've done to hurt you along the way? Don't think there are words good enough or powerful enough to express what you have been to me. What you are to me."

"To simply say I love you doesn't even begin to cover it. Not even close. You were always there for me. The one constant thing in my life I could count on, and now I'm not even sure how I'm gonna make it through tomorrow without having you around. Why the hell did you have to die. Why did you leave me alone?"

Tears rolled down Sam's cheeks in earnest, his throat constricting painfully, making it hard to gets the words out, but he pushed onward.

"It feels as if I can't breathe, as if your death has stolen away any desire to go on. God, why did you have to make that deal?"

His anger ignited, burning hotter and fiercer than the funeral pyre.

"Why the hell would you think your life was so much less important than mine? I can't do this on my own, Dean. Don't even want to try. Would rather be right there alongside you."

"Guess the truth is that you never really do realize what you have until it's stolen from you. And I just don't know how to go on without having you around to be a pain in my ass."

Sam chuckled wryly, knowing for some strange reason, his brother would laugh hearing that.

"And maybe that's the point. Maybe I'm not meant to go on without you. But you've left me with no other choice. Made it perfectly clear that I was meant to live. So that's what I'm gonna do, knowing that each day is another day closer to joining you."

"I know it's late in coming, know it probably doesn't even matter now, but I just wanted to thank you for everything. And, wanted you to know that even though I never said it, I've always appreciated you more than words can begin to say. I love ya, Dean."

Sam turned, head hung low, and slowly walked back to the Impala, leaving his heart behind.