REALLY FREAKING SAD AND I FEEL BAD WRITING IT

Dean watched.

Dean watched as Sam talked to some of his fellow students at Stanford University.

Sam didn't notice Dean standing several feet away, for he didn't even know who Dean was.

As Dean stared at his brother, he recalled how this happened.

It was supposed to be a simple vampire hunt.

One vampire, then they get out of town.

But since when have things ever been simple for the Winchesters?

It went wrong so fast. They were ambushed by four other vampires. While Dean fought off two, Sam was fighting the other three.

They could've handled it, except for one Vampire, who grabbed a rock and smashed it into the back of Sam's head.

"Sam!" Dean cried. "Sam!"

Dean was lost in his rage as he slew every single vampire within minutes. He cradled Sam's head in his lamp. "Hang on Sammy, I'm getting you to the hospital."

And so Dean rushed Sam to the hospital as fast as he could, breaking speed limits he whole time.

Dean finally made it and carried Sam's body into the hospital, screaming for help.

Instantly, a team of nurses came and took Sam into one of the wards, one of them staying behind to question Dean.

Dean explained they were out in the woods, hunting when Sam had tripped and hit his head. The nurse seemed satisfied and went to help.

Dean waited for a few hours in the waiting room, before finally a nurse came back.

"How bad is it?" Dean asked.

"Physically, he's fine," the Nurse assured Dean.

"Mentally?" Dean asked again.

The nurse winced. "I'm afraid he's got a serious case of amnesia."

Dean blinked. "S-say again?"

"Amnesia. And I'm sorry to say he may never get his memories back."

"We were hoping you explain a few things to him know that he's awake." The Nurse expressed. "Yeah. Yeah, of course." Dean said with a fake smile.

Dean dragged himself to the room and entered the room. What he was about to do would change everything.

Sam stared at Dean curiously, but with no recognition in his eyes.

"Hi..." Sam shifted in his bed, uncomfortably. "If I'm supposed to know you, I don't. The nurses say I've got amnesia.."

Dean felt his heart break, but held back his tears as he sat down next to Sam's bed. "I'm a friend of yours. Don't worry, I know your story."

Sam sat up a little straighter. "Yeah? My name, work, everything?"

Dean was struggling to hide his tears, but he would not break.

"Y-your name is Sam. Sam Wesson. You're thirty-four years old, and you go to college at Stanford. You study law. Your mom died in a fire when you were six months old, and your dad died ten years ago in a car accident. You dropped out of Stanford around twelve years ago, and no one knows why. However, you're still welcome back." Dean lied, resisting his urge to cry.

"Oh, I'm still at collage? Why would I drop out?" Sam asked, confused as he swatted his hair out of his face. Dean gave a fake chuckle to hide his misery.

"No one knows."

"Oh. I'll have to go back in. Do I have an apartment anywhere, or?" Sam questioned, oblivious to Dean's struggle.

"No, but you've got enough money to buy one." Dean fake smiled.

"Hey thanks man. What's your name?" Sam asked as Dean stood towards the door.

"I'm nobody you need to worry about." Dean finished and closed the door.

Dean went to the Impala, finally letting the tears loose. Dean sobbed.

It was for the greater good, Dean thought, Now Sam can live a normal life.

Dean made a new fake ID for Sam Wesson. He gave him over as much money as he could, which was enough for an apartment, food and school.

Dean had already slipped a credit card into Sam's wallet, and Sam would probably assume it was his.

And that's how Dean ended up watched from his Impala as Sam adjusted to his new life.

A better life.

With collage, hopefully friends, and peace.

'I need to let Sam go,' Dean thought, sadly, 'he's better off without me.'

And with that, Dean drove his car away from Sam.

But Dean would be lying if he said he didn't look back.

Sam watched as a black impala drove off in the distance. He couldn't help but feel like he was forgetting something important, something to do with that car.

But Sam ignored it. After all, he'd never seen that car in his life.

He'd never seen the car with his initials carved in, and the army soldiers jammed in the handles, or the lego's in the car's vents.

Never.