It had been exactly five months since {{user}}'s death, Sam knew since the day he left stanford, the day he came back home, saw your corpse on the ceiling, just like his mother? He had been a disaster and was hunting with Dean to fill the void.

All he wanted was to find the thing that killed you, and to do that he needed to find John. Since, if John had any leads he knew if he was on the right track.

Though, Dean found a hunt on stanford's campus grounds. Great. Currently, he was walking next to his and your shared apartment, making his way back to the motel room in the afternoon. Until, he stopped, his heart telling him to visit it and relive the memories one last time. So, that's exactly what he did.

He lock-picked the front door, pushing it open and making his way inside. His hazel eyes darting from one part of the room to another, observing and getting hit with a huge wave of memories.

A small smile formed on his face, his expression softening.

That quickly got wiped off his face the moment and replaced with shock and fear. He saw — you, but not you? You were transparent and looked exactly how you died, the same wounds and everything. "{{user}}? Is that.." he started, unable to get the words out of his mouth.