WOW! Threaten to kill someone and people have something to say! I promise no one will officially die in this story… But…
The epilogue is not what I originally intended to write, but then I had a discussion with my dear friend, Silwyna about the end to the last Harry Potter book. She loved the epilogue. I hated it. I like keeping stories realistic and reality ain't always happy. (Hence the reason I'll write death.) She loves happy endings.
SO, because she got me into Supernatural in the first place, I decided to write her a happy ending ala JK Rowling. However, I had to give it just a touch of my own twist.
You might like it. You might hate it. I'm prepared to accept either as this ending is for her. Let me know what you think, one way or the other.
A wicked glare cut the teen's voice instantly. A finger to the lips and gesture to the man sleeping on the lounge chair followed.
The teen nodded and backed away.
"That wasn't necessary." A groggy voice rose from the chair. "I wasn't sleeping."
Dean snorted. "Yeah, right. Try again Mr. Van Winkle."
Sam groaned and rolled over. He pulled the blanket which had slipped, tighter around his shoulders. "What time is it?"
"Late enough. The party is breaking up."
Sam smiled sheepishly. "Was it good?"
Dean rolled his eyes. "If you hadn't slept through it, you'd know. Ya know, I kinda hoped you'd party as an old man, but nope. You were born an old man. How are we related?"
Sam nodded ignoring his brother's typical rant. "Sorry." He coughed mildly and sighed. "I was dreaming."
"Good dream or bad dream?" Dean asked, glancing over his shoulder to the kitchen window where he exchanged knowing glances with Sarah. He knew at least it was simple dreams. The visions were long since over, or so Sam always said.
Sam smiled, despite closing his eyes. "Well, you're still here, not burning in hell, so…" He pretended to think, drawing out his answer. "Good. I guess."
Sam continued to smile. "Jerk." He pulled his eyes open. "It seems like yesterday."
"Yeah, well it wasn't. It's better forgotten, don't you think?" Dean took a long slug of his beer, scowling at the flat taste and the conversation's direction.
Sam shook his head. "No way. That was a big day for me."
Dean growled. "Sure Sam… We've heard this before. The great Sam Winchester saves his brother from the awful deal. Yadda Yadda Yadda."
Sam ignored his brother's tirade and rolled onto his back, gazing at the sky above them.
"I didn't do it alone, Dean." Sam whispered. He'd held this precious secret for far too long. He knew it had been selfish, but the memory meant too much to him. He didn't want to share it on the chance Dean convinced him it hadn't happened. He was ready now. He didn't need Dean to believe or not. He knew it was enough that he did and there was no room or time for secrets between them any longer.
"Really? There was someone else there? I mean, I did my best, but… Bobby? Na… No one else was there. I was prepared to honor the deal, Sam."
"Until the demon was going to kill me anyway." Sam smirked.
Dean's growl grew louder. "If you hadn't shown up, it wouldn't have been an issue."
"And you'd be dead."
"And…" Dean sighed. "I'd be dead." He thought back to that day. "I thought for sure you were dead, dude. I checked for a pulse and then the bitch started pushing me into hell."
"I don't know if I was or wasn't. I guess I'll never know." He pulled himself up on the chair. "I thought it was over. I was sure I'd failed. I was so sure I knew how to kill her and save you. All I remember was being pissed and feeling like a failure."
Dean released a quiet snort. "Welcome to the club."
Sam grinned. "But then I heard a voice."
Dean beamed. "Mine."
Sam shook his head. "No… I didn't recognize it at first, but then it pulled me up. I was stunned." Sam got lost in the memory and grew quiet.
Dean groaned. "Do you have to be such a drama queen? What the hell was it?"
Sam swallowed and turned to face his brother. There were unspent tears glistening in the corners of his eyes.
"Dad?" Sam shook his head and looked away. He couldn't face his father after such a brutal failure. "No… I'm sorry. I tried… I couldn't save him." Then it occurred to him that his father might still be able to help Dean, like before. "Dad? Can you help him, please? Can you save him? You have to save him!"
John Winchester knelt down at Sam's side and raised his son's chin to face him.
Sam was bewildered by the compassion and warmth in his father's gaze. He felt it spreading through him, pushing life back into his body. He assumed it was all his father could offer. As at the devil's gate, he assumed his father would be silent. He was content to die in his father's warming spirit. It felt selfish in light of Dean's agony, but he couldn't fight it.
"No, Sammy. I can't. But you can."
Sam was alarmed at both the words and the suggestion. "But dad? I can't. I failed. I've got nothing left."
John Winchester smiled at his youngest. "You're wrong, Sam. You've got the heart of a Winchester." He rested his hand against Sam's chest. "You'll never fail Dean, just like he's never failed you."
"Just like you've both never failed either of us."
The second voice, lighter and higher, drifted from behind them. Sam turned his head to see his mother coming around to join his father. "Mom?"
She smiled and took the hand he reached out to her. "I'm sorry it's been so hard, Sam. But it's almost over. All you have to do is save Dean now."
Sam's eyes closed and he groaned. "I can't. I want to, but I'm so tired. I can't… I'm not strong enough."
Mary ran her iridescent hand across her baby's cheek. "Maybe not alone, but we're here with you now."
Sam opened his eyes to find his parents gone. He looked over to the portal where Dean was being sucked through. "NO!" Power returned to his mind.
Dean fell back against the chair. "Why didn't you tell me?" His question came out as a whisper.
"I… I wasn't sure it even happened at first." He grinned softly. "My mind wasn't exactly clear at the time… or for some time after that."
Dean snorted. "That's for sure. Damn, even after I got you back to Isabella, I wasn't sure you were going to make it. Your brain was mush."
Sam rolled his eyes. "A fact you've loved pointing out for years now. But I had to come back. Someone needed to keep you in check. Course, it would have been easier if those demon gifts hadn't burned out." Sam grew somber and ran a hand along the stocking cap on his head. "Course, now it's true. But I guess it bought us some good years."
Dean swallowed back the bile that rose instantly in his throat. He preferred to live in denial. He wasn't going to acknowledge the cancer eating away at his brother's brain giving him only months to live. When he was first diagnosed, Dean had argued for some supernatural intervention, but after long thought, Sam and Sarah convinced him it was time to allow Sam the dignity of a natural life.
The brothers fell into silence.
"Um, seriously, Gramps? Can I?" The teen was back.
Dean looked over his shoulder. "What is it, J?" Before him stood his 18-year old grandson. Who would have figured Dean would find a woman and settle down? Well, attempt anyway. The marriage hadn't lasted, but a great daughter with all Dean's best and worse traits came from the union and she'd presented her father with a grandson.
Dean knew it had to be supernatural influence keeping him in his prime. There was no way he was old enough to have a grandson.
Sarah slipped behind her great-nephew and sat on the end of Sam's lounge chair, pushing his legs over and offering him a cup of some warm beverage. "The kids are getting ready to head out." She said softly.
"There's a poltergeist running amok about ninety miles from here. Mom thought you might want to head over with us." John Winchester was the spitting image of his grandfather at that age, down to the smirk in his smile and twinkle in his eye.
Sam grinned as he looked from Sarah to his brother. "Have fun."
Dean feigned a scowl. "Fun? Damn it, Sam. This is work. This is serious stuff."
Sam nodded, pretending to accept his reprimand. "Right. Burn the bastard for me, will ya?"
Dean raised an eyebrow, but deliberately avoided his sister-in-law's face. "Hey, why don't you come with us for old time's sake? I bet if you tried, you could dredge up some demon skills."
John quickly added. "Yeah, Uncle Sam. It'll be awesome. We can take the bucket."
Dean's eyes flashed with anger. "DON'T CALL HER THAT!" Dean's grandson had many great qualities, but he'd never held any respect for his granddad's classic, black Impala.
John laughed and dashed away before he could get in more trouble.
Dean took a calming breath and turned back to Sam. "So, what do you say?"
"You're never going to believe those powers are gone, are you?" Sam rolled his eyes.
Dean grinned. "You're my little brother. I know better. I always know when you're hiding something. Besides, how else would such a class act agree to marry you?" He winked at Sarah. "Much less support us all these years with her money. You had to have mojo-ed her."
Sam snorted. "Yeah, right." Sam smiled, and reached out for Sarah's hand. "I think I'm good here. Maybe another time?"
Dean nodded and smiled at Sarah. Neither would acknowledge reality. There wouldn't be another time for Sam. Dean loved hunting with his grandson and daughter, but it would never be the same as having his brother at his side. There was a large void growing.
"OK, then. I'm off to teach these youngsters the right way to destroy evil." He shook his head. "You wouldn't believe the stuff they try." He rolled his eyes. "Kids these days."
He walked off muttering and then stopped just before entering the house. "You sure you don't want to come, Bitch?" He had to try again. This was his baby brother. He'd always try, always fight for him.
Sam laughed. "Get out of here, ya Jerk. Before John thinks he can drive." He tugged Sarah's arm and she complied and settled in next to him on the lounge chair. He'd let the kids come to them.