"SAM!"
The man came out of nowhere and stabbed little Sammy in the back. Being the big brother that Dean is, he rushed to make sure that Sam was okay as Benny rushed after the killer.
"It's not even bad," Dean lied. He vividly remembered the last time something like this happened.
"Do not die on me this time, Sammy," Dean ordered. He just wished that this was a dream. That he would wake up in the bunker and find hits brother sleeping in his bed. He hoped that this was just a really bad dream.
"I'm sorry Dean," Benny said out of breath. "I lost him."
Dean held his limp little brother in his arms receiving a sympathetic and sad look from his best friend.
"SAM!"
-
He got in the impala one last time a bottle of whiskey and a handgun rode shotgun instead of his brother. He didn't stop until he got where he was going. Nowhere.
He took one last drunk and stepped out of the car with the handgun loaded with a single bullet.
He looked up to the night sky just before he fell on his knees shaking.
"I'm coming, Sammy," he managed to say between sobs.
Click. Bam. Crash.
He always said he wanted to die with a gun in his hand.
