All right. Here we go. The epilogue. Wow.
Again, I'm sorry about the delays in posting. This time, at least, I wasn't sick. I was working on making a Supernatural: Charlie The Unicorn 2. I'm under more pressure to make this one good, as the actors might find it :)
Anyway, thanks for reading and reviewing, as usual. I didn't expect this one to be too popular, and you guys surprised me. Thanks a lot.
He gazed into the mirror, looked at the familiar stubble, the square jaw, the spattering of freckles across his nose and cheeks, the eyes that now looked slightly less haunted than usual. "Dean," he said as the older man walked from the bathroom and into the motel room proper, "can you change me back now?"
"Why? Thought you wanted to get laid."
Sam scowled into the mirror, an expression that seemed too out-of-place on his brother's face. "You could have done it back at the warehouse."
"Now where's the fun in that? Besides, it's a good way to confuse your enemies."
The younger man spun around to face his brother. "All the demons ran off when we killed their boss."
"But we didn't know that until we got back here all safe and sound."
"Exactly. We're safe now. Fix it."
Dean sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Fine. But, uh, did you think about it?"
"About what?" Sammy asked.
"What we talked about earlier. About changing things. Being free?"
Sam faltered. "What?" He stared at his brother as Dean moved forward, placed both hands on his shoulders, and closed his eyes. Sam let his own eyes slide shut as that now-familiar warmth flowed into him, changing him, building him back up to an imposing six-foot-four, lengthening his nose, his hair, his legs.
He opened his eyes as he felt it stop, looked down at Dean and offered the older man a sad smile. "You know we can't do that."
Dean shook his head. "Too late for that, man." He stepped back, behind his brother, and turned the taller man toward the mirror.
Sam gaped at his reflection, at the shoulder-length blonde hair, the sparkling blue eyes, the lankiness of his new figure. He ran a hand over his chest, feeling the strong pull of muscles beneath lightly tanned skin. "Dean…?"
His brother stepped up beside him, looking up and smiling with crooked, gapped teeth. Dark brown eyes shone from a pock-marked face, swimming above a ragged line of bright freckles. Shaggy red hair hung in his face. Sam gazed down at the chubby man before him, his eyes and mouth wide.
The man shrugged. "You said you wanted to know what I really look like. This is, uh, the closest I can come. I just, um, undid everything that I can remember doing."
"You ever seen me eat? It figures, right?" He spun and headed toward the bathroom. "Just don't get used to it, ok?"
He followed his brother with his eyes. "You're gonna change back?"
Dean stopped at the door. "No. I figure it's time for a change. Maybe another chance. If you don't want to, I'm not gonna stop you, but I think it's for the best."
"You've thought about this before, haven't you?"
"You kidding? Wiping clean the slate, starting over as completely new people? Of course I've thought of it. Sammy, nobody knows who we are now, nothing knows. We're safe. We can do whatever we want to."
Sam nodded. "Guess you're right."
"'Course I'm right. I'm older."
"Yeah," Sam nodded, "that must be it." He gazed at his brother, at the way he was supposed to look, the things he'd changed just to feel acceptable in society. He remembered the hurt look in Dean's eyes, and suddenly knew where all of that insecurity had come from, knew that he had maybe one chance to fix it, to rebuild the confidence that the real Dean Winchester had lost long ago, to make everything right. "And for the record, I think you look great."
Dean turned and flashed him a crooked smile. "Yeah, you would. You always had great taste in guys."
Sam sighed as his brother entered the bathroom and closed the door. It had been decided without words, the way that they'd always decided the important things. They would start over, wipe the slate. The whole world lay before them. Anything and everything was possible. He turned back to the mirror and smiled, running a hand through his hair. "Yeah," he muttered, pulling the mop back into a sloppy ponytail, "I could work with this."
Well, that's it. Maybe not the ending that y'all had in mind, but I liked it. So, review if you liked or hated it, and I'll see you later. Thanks again for all the love!