Title: Into Ashes

Summary: "Come on, you can't…you can't leave me here, alone with Dad. We'll kill each other, you know that." What if Dean had died before the deal could be made? What would John and Sam do without him? IMTOD AU.

Spoilers: In this chapter there are mentions of Crossroad Blues, Devil's Trap, In My Time Of Dying, and a brief reference to Everybody Love A Clown.

Disclaimer: Dean…he's still missing? Um…I plead the fifth.

A/N: THANK YOU so much to everyone who has reviewed, especially everyone who's reviewed every chapter. And thank you also to every one who's been reading. Of course, an incredible thank you to my beta, Darth Mom for all her priceless help, and to SophieSaulie for reading just about every draft there was and letting me bounce ideas off of her.

I hope you enjoy this chapter, and of course, please let me know what you think. :)

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Into Ashes

Sam stood next to an old stack of cars, squinting a little against the sunlight reflecting in the yard. He didn't know how long he'd been there, trying to order his thoughts, but he'd had to shift a little to stay in the shadows, so it was probably a while.

His dad was sitting in the same spot he'd found him in a couple days before, staring at the Impala. Sam wasn't sure if his dad hadn't noticed that he was watching him, or if he was just waiting for Sam to make the first move.

If he was, chances were he'd be waiting for a long time, because Sam didn't know what to do…or even what he was supposed to feel.

He was tired, tired far beyond the physical, wrung-out and spent in ways he couldn't begin to describe. Grief filled his heart, too, painful, sharp, and searing. But since that night at the crossroads…somehow, it was better. And that thought sent his mind reeling with guilt.

How could he feel any better? Dean was still gone.

He could have gotten him back.

People come back wrong, Sam…

Even then, it would have been better than nothing, better than facing every day without his brother.

Part of him wanted nothing more than to go through with the deal his dad had stopped him from making. He could sneak out, leave and summon the demon before his dad even knew he was gone.

But one thought held him where he was, the same thought that his father's words had sent tearing through his mind at the crossroads:

What if it had been him?

What if he had died, and Dean had been left behind? He knew without a doubt that Dean would have made the deal in a heartbeat.

And Sam would never have been able to live with it.

Could he do that to Dean?

Dean had never asked for anything, had given up everything -- even his life, Sam thought, swallowing hard -- for his family.

Sam knew in his heart that if their positions were reversed, Dean's reasons for making the deal wouldn't have been selfish, just like Sam wasn't trying to be selfish by wanting Dean back now.

He just loved his brother.

But maybe…that was why he had to let him go.

It hurt, hurt so baldy that for a moment Sam couldn't breathe. But he couldn't deny it either. It was all too much, too much pain, too many revelations, too many tangled feelings.

How was he supposed to let Dean go?

Dean had always been there.

Sam remembered how he'd resented that once, resented Dean for not seeing that he didn't have to take care of him anymore. Sam could take care of himself. But right now he didn't feel like Sam, he felt like Sammy, and he needed his big brother.

"I can't do this alone."

"Yes, you can."

"Yeah, well, I don't want to."

But…he wasn't alone, a voice in his mind whispered, not completely. His dad was still there.

As a kid, his dad had always seemed larger-than-life, a hero, but as Sam had gotten older, he'd started to see all the flaws, the mistakes, the way he didn't seem to care about anything but the hunt…and pretty soon, when Sam looked at his dad, that was all he'd been able to see.

But at the crossroads he hadn't been Dad the Hero, or Dad the Hunter, he'd just been Dad, and Sam wasn't sure what to do with that.

Not that he'd ever really known how to deal with those other Dads either.

Dean had always been the one who seemed to understand their dad in ways Sam never could, the one who'd known the mysterious code their father used to communicate. Sam had told that to Dean once, after a big argument with their dad. He'd been trying to figure out why they fought so much and he'd come up with a pretty simple answer: they didn't speak the same language.

"Sure, you do," Dean had answered, "It's called 'Yelling.'"

How was he supposed to talk to their dad without Dean there to translate?

Sam took an unsteady breath.

They were all that was left, the sole, surviving Winchesters.

Somehow, two felt so much smaller than three.

But, maybe, it would be enough.

Forcing himself from the shadows, Sam made his way out into the yard. He moved quietly and sat next to his dad, feeling the car dip under his weight.

His dad didn't react, just kept staring at the Impala like it held the answer to everything. Did he think Sam was still angry? Or was he just as unsure as Sam was about where to go next?

Sam shifted uneasily on the hood, studying his dad's profile. He couldn't help grimacing a little at the dark, vivid bruise covering the side of his father's face. His own bruised cheek gave a dull throb and Sam felt a faint smile form on his lips. Maybe Dean had been right. Maybe they were more alike than either of them wanted to admit.

Sam had followed his dad's gaze back to the Impala, wondering what to do next, when he heard himself speak.

"Car's pretty messed up."

His dad glanced at him uncertainly, but a moment later he nodded.

"Yeah, she is."

Sam didn't answer right away, suddenly not sure what he was trying to say, but hoping his dad would understand somehow.

"Think we could fix her?"

His dad looked at him again, studying him more intently.

"I don't know," he said at last. "She's pretty wrecked. But, we could try."

Sam swallowed hard.

"Dean would want us to."

"Yeah," John agreed quietly. "Yeah, he would."

They sat there for a long time, not speaking, somehow not needing to, and Sam felt a little of the pain lessen. It wasn't the same, but the Impala was at least something tangible, something that was Dean's. And being here with his dad, somehow, it helped.

"I'll go ask Bobby what tools he's got."

His dad's voice startled him from his thoughts, and Sam nodded, watching as his dad slid from the car and headed in the direction of the house.

Without really knowing why, Sam pushed himself to his feet, stepping closer to the Impala. He walked around the car, forcing himself not to focus on the damage from the semi. He paused as he reached the back, running his hand over the trunk.

He glanced in the review mirror and froze.

Dean's reflection looked back at him, smiling…

Sam blinked and it was gone.

Shock, hope and disbelief rose up in him, but when they faded, a sort of peace remained.

Things weren't okay, they might never be. Dean was still gone and Sam would never stop missing him.

But it was a start.

Sam turned, moving to follow his dad.

They had a lot of work to do.

Fin

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A/N: I tried, but I couldn't resist at least one Dean-ghost moment, lol. He's not exactly haunting them or the Impala, just…checking up on them, lol. :) And I know that not everything was resolved between John and Sam…but I don't really think it could be all in one fic. It will take them a while, but they'll be okay. And I wanted to end on a hopeful note. :)

Again, thank you so much for reading. I might someday write a sequel or an alternate ending to this (I have a few plot bunnies bouncing around in my mind for it) but for now, this is the end. I hope you will check out some of my other Supernatural fics, especially "Moments of Silence," (a John POV) and its companion piece, (a Dean POV) "All That Matters." They are also IMTOD AU fics. :)

Take care and God bless!

Ani-maniac494 :)