The final chapter, I'm sorry to say, is a short one. The good news: I started typing the sequel, "Breaking Down Doors," yesterday, so keep your eyes peeled (though with school, it might take me a while to get it up here!).

I'd just like to (again) thank everyone who read and reviewed this story. I know it's definitely different than the others people are writing, and very confusing at times, so thanks a ton for sticking with it!

And now, the final chapter of "Closing Doors."

AC/DC blared from the radio as the car sat in the driveway, Dean waiting patiently behind the wheel for Sam to say his good-bye to Missouri. The elder hunter's mind was wandering, taking him places he didn't want to go, places that were dark and filled with the demons that had tortured his mind his entire life, but he couldn't help it. He always went there when he was alone, or knew that he was about to be. It was the reason he'd always surrounded himself with people, always stayed in close contact with his father. He believed that no one should be forced to go into that dark place.

The passenger side door opened and Sam slid in, waving one last time back at the house.

"So," Dean said, struggling to be heard over the music, "ready to go? I'm sure that apple pie life of yours is waiting."

"Yeah," Sam said distantly and nodded slightly as the car pulled from the driveway and onto the street, "I guess."

"California, here we come," Dean smirked.

Sammy sighed, looking over at his brother, a man he finally recognized in attitude and appearance. He suddenly realized that was a bad thing. "About that," he began, "I was reading online last night that there's been a string of murders in St. Louis. A bunch of guys going nuts and killing their girlfriends or wives, then saying they were gone at the time of the murders."

"Shape shifter?"

"Probably. And in Colorado, a couple was found mauled on the side of the road. Probably that vampire gang dad never caught."

Dean shrugged. "I'll put it on my to-do list. Right now, we're taking you home."

"Listen, man, I've been thinking."

"Way to go, Sam, it's always good to try new things."

Sam snorted. "I'm serious, Dean. I'm starting to think that you're right. We're all we've got now, and we have to stick together because of it. We're stronger as a family."

Dean narrowed his eyes. "Are you saying what I think you're saying? Because if you're not, or this is some kind of trick, I swear, I'll pull over and leave your ass on the side of the road and you can hitchhike your way back to California."

"I mean it. I want to keep hunting. With you."

"We're not gonna have to hug or anything, now, are we?"

Sammy sighed, shaking his head. "That's another thing, man. Stop the act. I don't have a problem with you, it was me, all right, I'm the one who wanted this world, so I'm gonna have to deal with it. Now, come on, show me how much you really messed yourself up."

Dean smiled, an expression that touched his eyes for the first time in days. "All right, I'll drop the act. It's a good thing, too, 'cause I'm getting sick of Metallica." He reached forward and messed with the radio until he found a good country station. "There we go. Much better."

Sam grinned, leaning back in his seat and lacing his fingers together behind his head. "I think I can get used to this," he said, finally feeling at peace with the world.