His brother was dead.

Six months gone.

Ripped apart by hell hounds that only he could see as Sam stood there and watched, desperate to help but literally unable to move.

He'd tried to revive him, knowing it was hopeless.

So he did the only thing he could.

He burned his brother's body, not wanting it to rot or rise from a grave. Bobby and Ellen both stood there, Bella standing next to him in silence.

He moved, untraceable to any of them. He had to disappear, had to become something else now that he was alone.

Without his brother.

Without Dean.

He had no time for friends of comrades or relationships or even one night stands. Just him, on his own, all the time.

At first, he fought.

Fought everything with a mindless rage, saving all his rage and helplessness for every fight.

His enemies trembled.

Those who thought him weak, weaker without Dean, turned and ran, not daring to face one such as he.

Gun and knives and trickery were used to kill the bad guys. Nothing was below the belt in his eyes, just as long as the bad guys were dead.

He didn't hesitate so much, or at all, if the bad guys were human. If they did bad; they were killed. Nothing more and nothing less. Hunted down and killed, mostly as quickly and painlessly as possible, unless they put up too much of a fight.

Then it hurt.

Lots.

He didn't think of his brother much. After all, what would Dean do now if he were to see what his younger brother had become? Would he think him as less as the things they hunted? Would he join him, but cautiously in fear his brother crossing a line that had long since become blurred.

Whatever the case, he mourned his brother, mourned who he used to be, what THEY used to be.

Dean's death did this. Dean's sacrifice for Sam's life.

Dean's life for Sam like John did for Dean.

It had destroyed Dean then.

It had destroyed Sam now.

So he became something else.

He fought mindlessly, for good. He didn't bother fighting his 'destiny.' He didn't want it, so he didn't take it. Simple as.

No one was going to try and convince him otherwise.

And he'd continue to fight the same way until he died. Whether he died of natural causes or he was killed, he was going to take as many sons of bitches with him.

For the good fight. For what his dad taught him and his brother since they were kids. For his dad. For himself. For his brother.

For Dean.