Dean had left an hour earlier to go get food or something along those lines. Meaning Sam was alone in the big, dark, dirty motel room to wander in his thoughts. Sam knew her picture was there, right there behind his driver's license. He didn't want to look he knew it would hurt, he knew it would ache. But his fingers slipped from his control and they moved to the brown leather wallet on the night stand. Numb fingers moved for the picture tucked away, and pulled it from its spot. Shaking hands held the small picture. Then he felt it, the deep down ache that drops you to your knees. The picture fluttered from his weak fingers down to the grimy motel carpet. His eyes glistened he wanted her, he missed her. He sunk to the edge of one of the beds. Mind overwhelmed in memories of her blonde hair, her bright blue eyes, her magnificent smile. Not only was she beautiful she was kind, loving, talented, smart, she was everything Sam wished for. He was so lost in his memories, he didn't hear the door click open and shut. He didn't hear Dean set the food on the table, fling his jacket over one of the chairs and kick his shoes off. He didn't even hear Dean call his name.

Dean knew the second he walked into the room, he should have never left. Sam was perched on the edge of his bed, face paler than Dean had ever seen it. His eyes were sparkling with unshed tears, hands gripping the off white sheets. Dean had been waiting for this moment, the moment it all came crashing down on Sam and he finally broke. Sam hadn't shed a tear since the night of the fire; he made it through shopping for a tux for the funeral, the many phone calls from concerned friends, the wake and the funeral, and the drive to a totally different state, without a single tear. But Dean knew it would come and hit Sam hard and when it did Dean was determined to be there.

"Sam" Dean called walking over to crouch in front of Sam. Sam didn't even blink. "Sammy, look at me" Dean said grasping Sam's chin and lifting his head until Sam's watery eyes met his own. "You ok?" Dean question searching his little brothers eyes for answers.

"Dean?" Sam's voice was rough as if it hadn't been used in awhile.

"Yeah Sammy right here" Dean answered. "What's going on in that head of yours?"

Sam brought a shaking hand up to grasp the front of Dean's shirt. Dean laid a hand over Sam's shaking one and moved to sit on the bed next to his brother.

"She's gone Dean" Sam mumbled so quietly "She's really gone; she isn't going to come back is she?" Sam asked. He sounded so much like the baby Sammy Dean used to comfort after a nightmare. Dean draped an arm over Sam's broad shoulders.

"No Sammy she isn't going to come back." Dean replied dropping his hand to rub Sam's back.

"I miss her" and there it was, the hitch in Sam's voice that Dean was waiting for.

"I know Sammy" Dean whispered continuing the circles on Sam's back.

"I really" the first tear fell, "miss her Dean" and then the second and third tear fell. And in a matter of seconds his breath grew harsh and the sobs started.

"c'mere Sam" Dean said tugging Sam over and into his arms. "It's okay Sam"

Sam fisted Dean Shirt in his hands and buried his face in Dean neck as the grief finally overtook him over.