Just don't think about Sam.
Don’t imagine him scouring that whole building for any trace of Dean, and finally admitting defeat.
Don’t imagine him packing up his guns and heading out to fight the newest war, in this craphole world, without Dean.
Don’t imagine him running his hand over the Impala - he never got to ride shotgun with Dean behind the wheel, just one last time, before they laid siege to Roman’s fortress - and climbing behind the wheel and limping off into the sunset with her.
Fixing her. Always thinking of Dean. And believing his brother is dead. And having no one, not even Bobby waiting in the wings, or Ruby, absolutely nothing in the entire world that resembles a friendly face except, maybe, for Jodi Mills. And why would he ever drag her in? Everyone Sam loves just dies. He’s cursed.
So don’t think about him driving miles and miles by himself and mourning his brother.
Don’t you do that.
1 week ago · 1,102 notes · Source · Reblogged from sammywithavengeance
