The sun never shines in hell - 5.22 Coda
The sun always shines here, as if unable to hide its face, even for a little bit. Rows of neat little homes line the streets, like Barbie doll houses free from decay. The pastel paint on the walls never fades, and the lawns remain green, even in winter.
Morning coffee, the hum of an engine warming up; two hands on a wheel, tires turning like they know where to go... nothing ever changes here, not really. There are no exits from town, only welcome signs, and the peace that comes from having nowhere else to go, but here.
The sun never shines in hell, but somehow, Dean can still feel it, even here in Indiana. The light from Lucifer's cage never darkens, never dims, and Dean can see his brother's face illuminated there, staring at him through bars the color of crimson.
Grief brings him to his knees, his tears like the broken wings of a prayer.
Dean faces west, toward Lawrence, toward Sam. Always toward Sam.