Hey yah'all… Sorry it took me so long to get this chapter done. I was really trying, but it was so hard…
I really appreciate all the support with this story, and all my others… Thank you, kindly.
So now without further ado, the Epilogue of 'Breath.'
John pulled his truck into the driveway of the house they were renting, and cut the engine. Looking over at the seat next to him, a smile quirked at his lips. Sam was asleep again.
Dean had been absolutely livid when he had been called into work that morning. He had tried to tell his boss that he needed the day off because Sammy was getting out of the hospital, but the man had no one else to call, and Dean had reluctantly gone into work.
Sam's face had fallen when he found out that Dean wasn't going to be there when he got out of the hospital, but after John promised that he would take Sam out for lunch, and that they could watch a movie together when they got home, Sam had brightened up quite a bit.
So they had gone to Friday's for lunch, getting in some much needed father and son time, and just talking for an hour. They hadn't even fought while they were there, and John had found some interesting things out about Sam's life. He had found out that his son was on the Academic Decathlon team, that his son had a girlfriend, and that Sam had been doing odd jobs around the neighborhood in order to save up for a car he was looking at.
John had told Sam some stories about his mother, and he had told him about his marine experiences, and that he still talked to some of his old buddies. Sam had been awed by his father's life, and though he had stubbornly refused to talk about hunting and his feelings on the subject; they hadn't fought.
By the time they had left the restaurant, Sam had been lagging. It had been the longest he had stayed awake in a long time, and that combined with the physical therapy he had gone through that morning had left Sam exhausted.
John had helped Sam to the car, pulling his youngest son's arm over his shoulders, and wrapping an arm around his waist to steady the younger man. They had talked for a while on the way home, before Sam had drifted off to sleep with a murmured, "I'm just going to rest my eyes for a minute."
John opened the door, and jumped down from the truck. He walked over to Sam's side and opened the door carefully, putting his hand against Sam's arm so he wouldn't fall out. He thought about waking Sam up, but in the end he decided that it would be better to just carry Sam in the house, he needed his rest anyway.
John put his arms under Sam's arms, and under his knees, being careful not to jostle his youngest too much. Pulling Sam's body against his own, he rolled Sam's head so that it rested on his chest. He carried Sam up the walkway, and around to the back door of the house, so it would be easier to get to Sam's room.
John turned the knob of the door, and pushed it in with his foot. Carrying Sam through the door, he turned around and kicked it shut. He walked down the hall with Sam in his arms, grimacing to himself at the amount of weight Sam had lost while in the hospital.
'I'll fix that. He'll eat good homemade food, and I'll make sure he gains that weight back. Either that or I'll sic Dean on him.'
John smirked to himself at the thought of his eldest badgering Sam into taking care of himself. Sam unconsciously turned into John's shoulder as he felt his father's chest move with laughter, and John smiled down at him.
John walked into Sam's room, and laid him down on the bed. He pulled the blanket out from under him, and covered Sam, his hand lingering on Sam's shoulder. After leaning down and placing a kiss on Sam's forehead, John walked away, closing the door softly on his way out.
Dean Winchester pulled the Impala into the driveway, and turned the key harshly, still mad that he had had to work the day that Sam had gotten released from the hospital. He knew his little brother had wanted him to be there, and he had wanted to be there for Sammy, but his boss had been desperate, and with the inconvenience pay added on, there was no way that Dean could say no.
Dean walked into the house, immediately noticing the dead silence. It had become a regular occurrence since Sammy had been in the hospital, but he had thought that since his brother had come home that day, it wouldn't be as quiet. Doubt set in almost immediately.
'What if Sammy had to stay in the hospital?'
'What if something had gone wrong?'
Dean was interrupted from his thoughts, when his father walked in the room, looking more relieved that he had in months. Dean's fear lessened, but he was still suspicious of the quiet that lingered.
"Where's Sammy?" Dean asked, confusion lining his voice.
"Well, I took him out for lunch today, and we talked so long that he wore himself out, so he's in his room sleeping." John said quietly, not wanting to talk too loud, for fear that it would wake Sam.
Surprise made Dean's eyes widen. 'They had talked? Without yelling?' Voicing his thoughts out loud, Dean waited for an answer.
"Yes, your brother and I can talk without fighting. We had a very nice conversation about school activities, crushes, some old marine experiences, and your mother." John answered indignantly, defending himself, and Sam.
"Whoa, calm down! I was just asking, because you and Sam haven't 'talked,'" Dean used air quotes to emphasize the word before continuing, "since Sam was like twelve."
John nodded, understanding his eldest son's point of view, and said, "I know we haven't, but today was different somehow. I have a feeling that the fighting will be back in no time, you know how stubborn your brother can be."
"I know how stubborn you both can be." Dean muttered under his breath.
"What did you say?" John growled at him.
"Nothing, I didn't say anything." Dean answered, looking for a way out of the room. "I'm ah, I'm gonna go see Sammy." He said, leaving the room before John could say anything.
Dean walked into Sam's room, relieved to see his brother. He pulled the chair over from Sam's desk, turned it around, and sat in it backwards. Looking at his brother, at home, in his own room, made Dean happier than he had been in a long time. He was just happy that his little brother was getting better. Happy that he hadn't lost him forever.
"Man you took quite a hit there Sammy, that truck really screwed you up." Dean said quietly.
"M' still prettier than you." Sam answered; opening his eyes just a crack, and scaring Dean.
Dean placed his hand on his chest, and his face took on a mask of absolute horror. "You prettier than me? I don't think so bitch."
"You know the girls like me better, jerk."
"Just keep thinkin' that geekboy."
"Oh Sam, now you're just looking to wound."
So I finally finished it… YAYAYAY! Thank you to everyone that reviewed, I really appreciate it, and I was thinking about a sequel set about a year after this story… Tell me what you think.
Take care, and thank you again.
--Run's away crying… 'it's over I'm gonna miss it so much!--