Sadly, this is the last chapter. Happily, I finished writing the sequel earlier this weekend. It's called "Flux" and I'll post it up later today, so keep your eyes peeled.
In other news, thanks for all the reviews, guys, even the bad ones. As I said before, to each his own and blah blah blah. If you hate the story but are still reading, I hope you appreciate the final chapter here. And jsut for the record, I wrote this entire story before posting it, like I do wtih all stories. It's how I can update so quickly. The ending's always been like this.
One Month Later
Sam stepped carefully through the rubble of the house, being as quiet as he could, thankful for the rising sun, which was casting just enough light into the place to allow him to see. He walked through the destruction that a particularly nasty poltergeist had made.
He entered what had once been a kitchen to find a tall, well-built man wearing only boxer shorts and a necklace standing over the dead bodies of four family members. "Dean?"
The man in the middle of the room spun around. "They were like this when I got here, I swear," he said quickly, eyes darting over the pistol in his brother's hand. His face fell.
Dean nodded slowly, shivering in the early morning chill. "Yeah."
"You bring your clothes with?"
"Wasn't expecting visitors," he admitted, blushing, "only brought this."
Sam nodded, his gun pointed at Dean's chest. "I'm guessing you overheard dad and I talking."
"You guessed right. Doggy senses and all."
"Why'd you wait so long before coming here?"
Dean grinned sheepishly, though the expression never touched his scared eyes. "I told you about this one. Figured I'd throw you off the trail and you'd get tired of waiting. Looks like I waited too long, though."
"You got it, right?"
Sam nodded. "Good. I can put this away." He slipped the pistol back into the waistband of his jeans.
Dean's eyes went wide. "You're not here to kill me?"
"Dude, no way. I've been tracking you down to tell you that."
"But dad said-"
"Since when have I done what dad says? Look, you're not a monster. Just because you fought and lost for one night doesn't make any less human than you were before. You've always had crappy self-control. I saw what you did in that forest, the way you still wanted to save these people. You're still you."
Dean smiled, and this time, the expression did reach his eyes. "Dad know you're doing this?"
Sam nodded. "I think he got the message."
"He's gonna be after me."
"That's why I'm here," Sam admitted, slipping out of his jacket and handing it to his brother, who gratefully took it and bundled up against the chill air, "someone's gotta save your furry little ass."
"You mean it?"
"Yeah, I do. I contacted the good folks at Stanford, told them I'm taking another leave of absence, and they told me not to come back. Like it or not, you're stuck with me." Sam smiled, realizing that he'd never seen his brother so happy.
"Awesome," Dean grinned, "but we're really gonna have to cover our tracks, man."
Sam nodded. "I'm already on it. So, we gonna salt and burn these guys, just to be safe?"
"Sure thing. Got the stuff?"
"In the car."
"You know," Dean said as they walked out of the house, side by side, to get their supplies, "you're gonna have to ditch that hunk of junk."
"Dad knows your car better than mine."
"Doesn't matter. Your rust bucket's gotta go."
Sam smiled, stuffing his hands into his pockets. It was only a matter of time before their father found them, only a matter of time before Dean would die- because, let's face it, neither son could bring himself to kill John- but Sam figured that that was all right, as long as they spent that time together.
See? Sammy came around in the end. I told you he would :)
Hope you enjoyed it!