Halloween is always bittersweet for Dean Winchester. Bitter because of the memory of what happened to his brother all those years ago but sweet in the knowledge that he will see Sam again.

John has even stopped hating Dean for his role in what happened to Sam. Partly because he can't remain angry with his eldest son any longer and partly because Sam doesn't want him to.

Every year on October thirty-first, the two eldest Winchesters prepare for Sam's annual visit by locking themselves in whatever motel room they've rented for the night and drinking more alcohol than they should.

Sam never visits before darkness falls. He never visits earlier than ten forty-three exactly. He never removes his costume. It was never much of a costume anyway, just an old bed sheet with two circles cut out of it so his eyes could peep through.

Sam never speaks but Dean knows when he's happy, when he's sad because his green eyes, always so expressive even in death, tell him all he needs to know.

Sam never knocks on the door. He always appears silently in the motel room, as though he simply teleported to his family's location.

"Hey Sammy," Dean says, always the same greeting, as though nothing had happened, as though his brother hadn't vanished more than eighteen years ago.

Sam says nothing but Dean knows he's smiling.

John tilts his bottle of beer in Sam's direction.

"Son," their father says and his voice is thick this time; he's not doing as well as he did last year.

Sam moves forward silently, his muddy sneakers leaving no marks on the carpet.

"It's good to see you again, Sammy," Dean tells him, and really, it is good to see his brother again, though he wishes he didn't have to. Dean is certain that the only reason Sam keeps coming back to them every October thirty-first is because they never found his body.

Again, Dean knows Sammy's smiling, if sadly.

And because he has to say it, every year, as though Sam doesn't already know, Dean tells him how sorry he is.

"I shouldn't have left you by yourself," he laments, "I should have stayed with you the whole night."

Sam inclines his head.

"I just… damn, you know… I can't forgive myself," Dean tells him, feeling tears prick the corners of his eyes.

Sam lifts his head and Dean thinks his gaze looks far away.

"Do you have to go so soon?" Dean asks and a lump forms in his throat.

Sam's gaze turns sad and he turns around to face the door.

Dean can never bring himself to say 'goodbye'. It always sounds cheap, as though Sam's still alive and just popped by for a visit.

Instead he grabs another beer from the cooler sitting beside John and opens it, swallowing a large mouthful.

Sam glances over his shoulder, his green eyes peeking out from behind his costume, and leaves the room as suddenly and silently as he appeared.

Author's Note:

Just a sad little Halloween I thought up.

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