Honestly, his life was a damned wreck.

The one thing he enjoyed was to sit on the hood of Deans Impala, admiring the stars from afar. It brought a sense of relaxation to him, sipping on a cold beer while he gazed up at the firey orbs stationary in the sky. Depending on the night, sometimes his brother would join him.

He would always think of you when he looked at the stars, no matter the time of night or how he was feeling in that given moment… You popped up in his head. He had yet to move on from your passing, couldn’t even look at another woman without feeling sick to his stomach. Dean tried his best, but it was to no avail.

You always watched over him however, because even though you had passed… You hadn’t officially… passed. You were stuck on the planes of earth, just as a spirit wandering aimlessly until your soulmate joined you in the afterlife.

Sam would give anything to hold you again, but he could only feel your ghostly presence in the back of his mind and in his dreams.

Luckily Dean was out, either at a bar or getting food for them both… So he couldn’t see how utterly desperate and pathetic Sam felt right now.

“I know…” He swallowed, his voice shaky as he sat on his motel bed. “I know you’re here… Just please—… Say something… Give me a sign.”