I remember the night Mom died. You don't forget something like that, no matter how many years pass you by. Sammy was just a baby — he didn't know any better — but Dad and I were devastated.

That's the thing I remember most — the feeling of utter devastation. It wasn't the fire or the chaos or the terror of it all. It was the feeling of total loss, confusion, grief, loneliness. I felt lost when Mom died. Sometimes I still feel lost.

Some friends of Dad's took us in, but it wasn't home. I cried myself to sleep those first few weeks and took to sleeping with Sammy in his crib. It didn't matter to me that it was cramped and uncomfortable. I needed to know he was okay. I needed to know something wasn't coming for him in the middle of the night, like it had come for Mom. I'd lay there awake, night after night, replaying the fire in my head. I'd thought I'd heard someone there in Sammy's nursery, but I didn't know who it was. I learned later it was the yellow-eyed bastard who killed my mother and gave Sam his first taste of demon blood. If there's one demon I savored killing it was that sorry son of a bitch.

One of the first nights after the fire, after a particularly horrific nightmare, I woke up terrified, a scream caught in my throat. I saw a figure sitting in a chair across the room from me, draped in shadow, a dark silhouette in the moonlight, and I knew it was my Dad. I opened my mouth to call to him, but nothing came out. I had barely spoken since the fire. It was like I'd lost my voice or something. The words were there in my head, but I couldn't get them to come out.

As always, the tears came. All I really wanted was for him to hold me and tell me everything would be okay. Isn't that all a kid really wants" I know now he couldn't promise me that, and I wouldn't have wanted him to lie, but at the time, I felt like I'd not only lost my Mom, but my Dad, too. I felt utterly alone.

I could tell that he was crying, his shoulders shaking with silent tears, and I realized that he was just as devastated as I was. I wanted to go to him, wrap my arms around him, tell him everything would be okay. That I was there and Sammy was there and we'd be okay, so long as we were together, but something held me back. I just watched him there in the dark until he fell asleep, and then I crept out of bed, kissed his cheek, took the bottle of Jack out of his hand, and tucked a blanket around his neck. I climbed into the crib and spent the night with Sammy, my arms wrapped around my brother instead, holding onto him tightly, afraid to let go. I'm sure Sam doesn't remember it. He was too young to remember it, but I remember it like it was yesterday.

Days passed, but it was like living a nightmare. I went through the motions of living, but I felt dead inside. Dad tried to talk about normal things, but I think we both knew our lives would never be normal again. I'd wake up in the middle of the night, unable to catch my breath, my heart pounding, and think it was happening all over again. No one was there to comfort me or to tell me everything would be okay. It was just me and Sam. I'd see him laying there in his crib, peaceful, unaware of the drama playing out around him. I needed to be close to someone, and Sam was all I had.

I don't blame Dad really. He did his best, but he was so lost in his own grief, he didn't know what to do with me. How do you comfort a four year old kid whose whole world has just come crashing down around him when you're trying to deal with your own pain and loss" Dad was damaged beyond repair, and I learned pretty early on that I couldn't count on him for any sort of comfort. Instead, I sought comfort with Sam, playing the big brother, doing my best to take care of him and keep him safe from harm. I promised I'd never let anything happen to him, and I've done my best to keep that promise. It's a promise that was never made to me.

I understand Dad now. I understand how much he loved Mom and how hard it was to let her go. I understand how lost he felt without her and how angry he must have been when no one would help him find her killer. I understand why he wanted vengeance and why he was so tough on us.

I know he's in a better place now. I know he's with Mom, and they're watching over us, me and Sam. I have to believe that's true, after everything that's happened, or else, what?s the point of it all? I hope he's proud of me, of the man that I've become. I hope he understands that everything I've ever done I've done because of Sam.

As I write this, there's a storm rolling in from far away. It'll get darker and more violent before it passes, just like my life.

I'm not fooling myself. I know I'm not gonna live forever. I've cheated Death so many times already. One of these days, he's gonna collect on that debt when I least expect it, and I won't be able to talk my way out of it anymore.

I'm only a day older than I was yesterday, instead of a year. When I got here I was eleven, and now I'm thirty-two. I've aged over twenty years in as many days, and I remember everything. Every last little sordid detail of my life. Mom, Dad, Yellow Eyes, Hell, Lucifer, all of it. Ellen and Jo. Rufus. All the people I've lost over the years and all those who are still living.

I remember Rhydin. I've been here before. I found the tree where I carved Quinn's and my initials. DW & QB 4Ever, it said. But there's no such thing as forever. Forever is a dream. Forever is for fairy tales and bedtime stories. Forever is a lie.

One year, she said. One year since I left. More or less. She's changed. She's a hunter now, like me. Well, almost like me. She hunts vampires. God, I hope she knows what she's doing. I offered to help, but I doubt she wants my help. I doubt she ever wants to see me again. She's moved on. She's got someone else now. Someone who won't disappear. Someone who's there when she needs him to be. Not like me.

And then, there's Lilli. What a mess I made of things there. Two stupid kids, that's what we were. I let her get close, and I let myself care. She'll always have a place in my heart, like all the others, but it wasn't meant to be. Like Quinn, I'll never forget her, but there's no forever.

I told Bobby once that I've never been in love, but that's a lie. Probably the biggest lie I've ever told. The truth is I loved them all, at least a little, but I can't be with any of them. Not really. I can't make any promises. I tried to live a normal life once, but it didn't work. Normal just isn't in the cards. Not for me. Maybe not for Sam either.

We lost a kid a few days ago. His name was Eric. I don't know how old he was. Nine, ten maybe. Hard to tell. Nothing much left of him but skin and bones. I tell myself this is what I do this for, to help people, to save those who can't save themselves, but no matter how hard we try, we can't save them all. It's the ones we lose I remember most. Another body to bury. Another soul to pray for. Another ghost to haunt my nights.

The storm has passed, but it's still raining in my heart. Another day has dawned, and I start all over again.

I don't know what to do now. Try to find a way home, I guess. I don't know why we're here. We don't belong here. I just want to go home.

I killed someone yesterday, and I'm not too sure if I did the right thing. It used to be easy to tell the difference between good and evil. Things used to be black and white. I don't know when they got so gray.

When Dad and I hunted together, it was easy. Monsters killed people, hunters killed monsters. I never wrestled with my conscience then. Everything was cut and dry. It was easier then. Dad would tell me what to do and like a good little soldier, I'd do it. Now, I have to make the decisions, and it's all starting to weigh on my mind. I don't want to be judge and jury. I don't want to condemn. That's for Reapers to decide, not me.

But I am what I am, and that's a hunter. It's all I've ever known, all I've ever been, all I'll ever be.

This part of me anyway.

Back on Rhydin, things were different. There are a lot more shades of gray there. Demons, lycans, vampires just trying to live regular lives, like the rest of us. Sometimes I used to think humans were the minority there.

It feels kind of weird to be home. I haven't told Sam or Bobby. I don't want to worry them, but I feel like something is missing. I feel empty inside. Dead. I don't know how to explain it. I don't know what Ezekiel did to me, but I haven't felt right since I got back. It's like a part of me is missing, and I wonder if part of me is still back on Rhydin, like before.

Back with Paige, living the dream. It gives me a little comfort to think that. That part of me, one of me, might be happy. I can't remember the last time I felt happy here. The last time I felt happy was when I was with Paige, but it doesn't feel real to me here. It feels like a dream. Like it never happened. Just like when I was with Quinn.

I'm probably not making much sense. I just don't know what to do anymore except to keep on fighting and keep on taking care of Sam.

Dean Winchester October 2011 Whitefish, Montana

((Author's Note: The above entry is written by Older Dean who has returned home to Earth to continue his adventures with brother Sam, leaving Younger Dean on Rhydin. The above entry was written after the events taking place in last night's episode, 7x3, "The Girl Next Door".))