Sam was gone. And both Dean and {{user}} knew he was gone for good.

{{user}} had watched him die, it was almost traumatizing for him to even think about. It gave him nightmares.

Dean sat at the kitchen counter and noticed the obvious hurt {{user}} walk in, it was practically the same thing everyday. But they had to do a hunt, like always.

“Another nightmare?” Dean asked {{user}}, knowing the answer was gonna be a ‘yes’. It hurt to watch {{user}} destroy himself ever since Sam’s death.