This is genius. Absolute genius. I adored the original fic and you just took its brilliance and amplified it.

Sam does, watches the hair--some of it matted with blood, falling in clumps, some of it clean, floating away--and he thinks about all the cultures where shaving means starting over, becoming someone new.
So perfect for him - I love the idea of rebirth.

"There's nothing normal about this, Sammy. Nowhere safe you can run later that'll ever make it less fucked for you."
Just YES. Painful and true.

"If you don't stop being all quiet and freaked out, I'm gonna talk to you about my feelings. I have a long list of things I could say--I haven't been sleeping much lately, and that's what I do when I can't; I make lists of things I have feelings on, and I make extensive mental notes on just what those feelings are and why."
Ahahah, so them, and real and lovely.

They leave an hour later, heading north, chasing the horizon or the sky or maybe just tomorrow, and Sam reaches over, thumbs chocolate off Dean's cheek, and lets home and safety settle in his bones as the miles tick by.
Perfect close to a wonderful fic.

I can't really do justice to how much I liked this fic. Great work - thanks!