Disclaimer: Neither Jordan nor I own Supernatural.

A/N: Okay, so there wasn't originally supposed to be an epilogue, but we got to thinking that not all of y'all would realize we had posted the sequel story… It's called Endurance and you can get to it from my profile! Or by copy/pasting this link only without the spaces because FF docs are evil…

http : / / www . fanfiction . net / s / 4267486 / 1 / Endurance

Jordan: Yes, because we are missing some of our reviewers… WE MISS YOU! PLEASE COME BACK!

Me: … Wow. That was dramatic. XD

Jordan: Yeah… and so are Honey Bunches of Oats…

Me: What?

Jordan: Yeah, that's right, you heard me. -crunch-

Chapter Eighteen Epilogue

"Holy shit! Are you seeing this!? My baby!"

Dean caressed the very beaten-up Impala while Jordan, Sam, and Lyn rolled their eyes.

"I'm sorry, y'all, but this is just SAD," Lyn observed, shaking her head. "And I mean Dean, not the Impala. Jeez, JJ, I think he's more worried about the flipping car than he was about you…"

Jordan glared daggers at Dean's back when she came to this same realization. "Jackass… You're gonna be fixing the car yourself…"

She walked over to the Grand Am, pulled the door open, and then slammed it so hard that it was a miracle it didn't come flying off its hinges.

"Sucks for you," Sam told his brother, smirking at the fact that Dean's love for his car had finally gotten him into trouble.

"What!? Wait – Aw, come on! This car is an extension of my soul! What little there is left…" Dean added in a murmur to himself.

"Ugh… this sucks… I'm so not getting any for a while…" Dean leaned against the car and glared at the sky.

"Oh, good heavens," Lyn said with a grimace. "Not another blasted extension of someone's soul! Jeez, are you not the same Dean Winchester who used to tell Jordan to shut up about her 'stupid-extension-of-her-soul hair dryer'?"

Dean looked at Lyn guiltily. "It was a hair dryer! This is my car! My sweat and blood went into fixing her up! Now she's hurt…"

Sam rolled his eyes. It wasn't the first time Dean had referred to his car as a her and made it sound like he was talking about an actual human being.

"Yeah, yeah, cry me a river," Lyn said impatiently. "At least it's your freaking car this time. Just so you know, that threat still holds about death being the penance for messing with my car again…"

Jordan abruptly blared the horn at the three who were still standing there.

"Guess that means you should get going to the motel before Jordan passes her anger off onto you, Lyn," Sam said, smirking.

Dean just got into the Impala (which could barely run) and started the engine.

"Oh, yeah, because she'd never do that anyway," Lyn murmured a little sarcastically, fishing her keys out of her pocket before turning toward the Grand Am and yelling, "Oi, idget! You don't freaking sit in the driver's seat like you expect to actually get to drive! Nobody drives my car but me, dadgum it!"

Sam laughed quietly and got into the Impala's passenger seat.

"Oh, come on!" Jordan implored, leaning out the window. "You never let me drive and I wanna freaking drive!"

"Then go pull double shifts at some crappy waitressing job like I did and buy yourself a car," Lyn advised. "Until then, get your freaking butt out of my seat before I kick it from here to El Paso. Need I remind you that you nearly killed my dog the last time Dad let you drive the lawnmower?"

"Psh… don't even start about that again…" Jordan slid into the back seat and lay down, grumbling.

The Impala then drove past Lyn's parked car, Dean and Sam both laughing at their bickering.