"We did it," Dean whispers, tracing his fingers over Sam’s cheek. "You did it.”
Sam smiles weakly, too comfortable in the security of Dean’s arms. “Y-Yeah,” he replies shakily. “Yeah, Dean. But I couldn’t have done it without you…” He reaches for Dean’s fingers, squeezes.
Warm tears fall from Dean’s eyes, drip onto Sam’s cool flesh. “I’m gonna find a way to bring you back, alright?”
"You don’t have to," Sam whispers.
Dean shakes his head. “I do. I will, Sam. I’m gonna bring you back. And we’re gonna be okay…”
Sam falls silent.
"Sammy? Sam? G-God - no. Sam…please…"
All is quiet, save for Dean’s sobs as he holds his little brother’s body close to his.
May 2 may have been Sam’s birthday, but it was never his day.