I was perfectly content to leave the story where it ended...however, Dean and Sam would not let my mind rest about this story...so for all of you looking for a more concrete ending...here you go.

The Story So Far...

"What are you going to do, Dean?" Bobby asked as he finally let go of Dean's arm and sat back to wait for his answer.

Dean thought for a moment and suddenly remembered something his little brother had told him in the car on their way to Atlantic City to find Gypsy. Seemed like a million years ago now…

"Dean?" Sam said as the tall casino buildings rose into view.

"Yeah?" Dean answered.

"Before we get there, I need to say just one more thing, and then I promise I won't bring it up again, okay?" Sam asked.

"Oh God, what now?" Dean asked.

"I'm glad that you didn't go away and leave me to a new, safe, and normal life. Because life without you would not be normal," Sam said.

"Dean? I said what are you going to do?" Bobby repeated.

Dean wiped away his tears quickly.

"The right thing," Dean finally replied a few moments later.

Now...

Chapter 15: Epilogue (Sam's P.O.V.)

One Year Later...

I'm so nervous that I feel sick to my stomach. I was used to the nagging headaches by now that had come as soon as the memories started slowly returning, but the nausea was new. I recognized that it was my nerves getting the best of me and that I was starting to shake. Bobby tells me to "calm the hell down" and I can't help but smile. Just like old times. Except it wasn't exactly like old times, because I don't quite remember all of the old times. Not yet. Bobby's been trying to help me fill in some of the blanks and I thank him over and over. He told me after a while to shut up already, that he was so damn glad to see me that he wouldn't have minded reading me the entire phone book if I had asked. He also tells me not to worry, that my brother will come. That Dean will be happy to know I was starting to remember. I'm not so sure.

It was about two weeks ago when I began searching the internet furiously for days until I finally came across a mugshot and the name "Dean Winchester." I remember sitting back in my chair in front of my small desk on which I kept my laptop and tried to rack my brain for why that name sounded so familiar. To remember anything about this stranger who had been showing up at the diner like clockwork every other month as well as at school and even following me home once in a while. I thought he was some kind of crazy stalker creep and I had hoped to dig up at least some dirt to help substantiate my claims. The women at the diner thought he was cute. They told me he was nice and tipped well, but was quiet. Usually ordered black coffee and something to eat, although he never touched the food. I didn't expect what would start to happen, once I found Dean's name. It was the tip of the iceberg. The end to life as I knew it. And the more research I did, the faster the memories came back, including many of Bobby. That's when I left to see the older man because I didn't know what else to do.

Another unbearable fifteen minutes passes during which Bobby and I continue to sit in his living room across from each other. We are both silent, lost in our own thoughts. The uncomfortable feeling in my stomach intensifies and rush to the bathroom to throw up. When I am finished, I look at myself in the mirror and almost want to laugh. Two weeks ago my biggest concern was passing my "Child and Family Advocacy" law class midterm and now? Now I remembered that I was some kind of psychic who has been chased by demons and touched by an angel. And Dean? What can I say about Dean? I'm damn scared that he won't show and damn scared that he will.

I open the medicine cabinet and pull out the bottle of pain killers to try and dull the headache again. Bobby doesn't know, but I'm sure he'll ask me about it soon enough when he notices half of his pills are gone. I'm not sure my headaches mean something or not. I pop a few and shut the cabinet after putting the bottle back. I take a deep breath and leave the bathroom. I walk slowly back to the living room and sit. I'm glad that Bobby doesn't say anything, even though I'm sure he heard me throw up.

"You okay, kid?" Bobby finally asks gently a few minutes later.

I look away from his scrutinizing glance and sigh.

"Yeah," I lie because I don't feel like talking about it.

We don't say anything else for a while, both aware by our repeated glances at the clock that Dean is late. The anticipation is killing me. I'm not sure if I would feel better if I screamed, cried, or threw up again. Another half an hour passes and my head starts to throb in sync with the ticking of the clock. I can't help but think that this is all a mistake, having Bobby trick Dean into coming. Maybe Dean found out and is mad at me. After all, if Dean wanted to see me, he wouldn't have let me live a lie for the past year. I have so many questions, but I try not to dwell on them. I look again at Bobby who has since dozed off. I'm glad to be free of his looks in my direction for the moment. I at least want to ask Dean why and then I'll leave him alone if that's what he wants.

I suddenly hear a car drive up and turn off. Bobby hears it too and stands, guess he wasn't sleeping after all. He looks at me and tells me that he's going to give us some privacy and walks out of the room. I hear Dean walk up the steps, already calling out for Bobby. I watch the door knob turn before the door swings toward me. Dean opens his mouth again to yell for Bobby and then he sees me. I know I'm shaking again and I jam my fists into my jeans pockets. I try to smile, but I'm a bit startled by how different Dean looks than I remembered. His expression is hard and cold and he has at least a week's beard on his face. He doesn't smile back. Isn't he at all glad to see me?

I dare to keep my eyes locked on Dean's and a million memories suddenly come slamming into my brain so fast that the floor tilts and my vision goes black for a moment. I feel myself falling forward before strong arms catch me. I still can't see yet, but know that I'm being lowered to the floor. I remember now. I remember everything. My vision starts to return and I can now see Dean and Bobby are kneeling over me.

"What the hell is going on, Dean?" Bobby asks in concern as my vision finally clears.

"I could ask you the same thing!" Dean yells before backing away from me like I have the plague. "What is he doing here?"

For some reason, Dean's statement makes me angry. I wasn't thinking clearly already and this reunion was not going the way I expected at all.

When the dizziness also subsides, I stand up slowly and Bobby looks at me again. He takes my face into his hands without even asking, and studies it.

"What happened, son?" Bobby asks. "You really ain't looking too good. Ain't really looked right since you got here."

"I ask again, Bobby," Dean repeats angrily as if wasn't standing right freakin' next to me, "What is he doing here?"

"He brought himself here. Said he remembered me and was starting to remember everything else too," Bobby answers.

I wonder does no one see me here? Am I invisible?

"So you started to fill in the blanks for him? You could have lied to him…or in the least sent him away! You also could have given me a heads up instead of lying about why you wanted me to come here!" Dean yells. "This is not what I wanted!"

"Sam asked to talk to you in private," Bobby explains angrily. "And if you would've left him alone, he wouldn't have gotten suspicious and went looking for answers in the first place! I'm not going to turn my back on him, Dean! What would that accomplish? He's here now and he's back for good. Deal with it!"

"Maybe if I apologize to Briathos, he can undo it all. Put him back and swap out his memory again," Dean suggests, a hint of desperation in his voice now.

"Put him back? He's not a dog that ran away from the pound! He's your brother! Standing right in front of you! At least look at him, God damn it!" Bobby exclaims.

I listen to them continue to argue as if I'm not there and my anger morphs into pure rage. I stride over to one of the windows and slam my fist right through it before walking right out the still open front door. I remember everything, yet things are more confusing now than ever. I ignore my throbbing hand and the blood running down my forearm.

"Hey," Dean calls out from a few steps behind me. "HEY!"

I stop and turn around. Dean is alone and looks as mad as I feel.

"I have a name, Dean," I say angrily. "I haven't heard you use it yet. But then again, it has been awhile. Maybe you forgot. Sounds like you've been really trying hard to forget alot of things where I'm concerned!"

Dean says nothing in response as he walks the last few steps toward me to wrap gauze around my cut up hand.

That move feels so familiar, like the thousands of times before that we took care of each other after a fight with a demon or supernatural creature, that my breath catches in my throat. I missed him and I wonder how the angel ever got me to forget about Dean in the first place.

"Why, Dean?" I ask softly, unable to prevent the tears that I now feel in my eyes. "Why'd you do it?"

He steps away from me again before running a hand over his face and sighing.

"Do what?" he asks unnecessarily.

He has no anger in his voice this time, but oddly no other feeling either.

It seemed so unlike the Dean I remembered that he throws off my train of thought. I've seen him treat other people like that, with a cold indifference that no doubt took him years to perfect, but not with me. Never with me. Another thought dawns on me, one that I hadn't considered before or maybe didn't want to consider. Dean's words from earlier play over again in my mind, so painful to recall that if bashing my head on the pavement would erase them I think I would have. I shake my head at how dumb I was to believe Bobby. It was so clear to me now.

"I'm sorry," I apologize. "Bobby shouldn't have called you. And I...I shouldn't have come."

I start to walk back toward the house to get my things. Dean doesn't call after me or follow me and I know I'm right.

After I enter the house, Bobby jumps to his feet and asks me what happened. I answer truthfully and tell him nothing. I walk past him to grab my duffel bag that I had been keeping on the side of the couch where I had been sleeping. If Bobby says anything after that, I didn't hear him. I walk right out the door again and get in my car.

I start driving, although I don't know where I'm going. I had quit my job at the diner, broke the lease on my apartment and dropped out of school. I had been so sure that I could just slip right back into my old life with Dean. I start to laugh at my stupidity and it quickly turns into heaving sobs. I can't deny that I am just...what one word could I use to sum up what I was feeling at that momet? Heartbroken? Betrayed? I'm not sure. I pull over to the side of the road and soon my headache is a full on migraine. I welcome the distraction.

I jump when I hear a knock on my window and am surprised to see that it is dark outside. I must have fallen asleep. Blessedly my migraine has again been reduced to a dull headache. I'm also surprised to see Dean standing there and he climbs into the passenger seat without even asking. God, is it deathly quiet in the car. And dark. Feels like the two of us are the only two people in the world and for that moment, we are. I think about turning on the overhead light and decide against it.

"You asked me why, Sammy," Dean says and I almost burst into tears again at his use of my nickname, "why'd I do it? I did it for the same reason that I have done everything for as long as I can remember. For you."

I don't trust myself to speak yet without getting upset so I wait for him to continue.

"I never could give you the life you deserved. No matter how hard I tried. And as much as it kills me to admit it, the angel could and did. How could I then willingly take you away from that good life and put you back into the hunter's life? We all know how that story ends and it ain't ever with a happy ending," Dean says, "I should've stayed away from you, but I just...I just couldn't do it. I'm the one who is sorry."

I try to process what my brother is saying before answering, but am now more confused than ever.

"Really? You sure as hell weren't happy to see me back there. I think my having a happy ending in a new life without you meant that you could finally have a happy ending in a new life without me. Finally free of me, your...your burden that you've had to bear for as long as you can remember. I get it. I do. You didn't have to follow me to make sure that I understand that. I'm leaving for good, okay?" I say quickly, as much as I hate to admit that it hurts to do so.

"What?" Dean asks with such hurt in his voice that it confuses me. "You really believe that? You really think that's why I came after you? Haven't you listened to a word I just said?"

I shake my head yes even though I know he can't see me. I am mad at myself for starting to cry again, wishing I had perfected the stoic and careless demeanor that Dean can portray so well. Without warning, Dean pulls me into a hug so tight that I can feel he is crying now as well. I hug back just as tightly. Now...now I believe him.

Two days later...

"Because I don't like you, is that a good enough reason?" I hear Dean yell downstairs. "I don't know how you found us, but if you told anyone where Sam is, so help me-."

I quickly finish washing my face and bound down the steps. Dean is talking to someone at Bobby's front door, but I can't yet see who.

"Please, just for a moment?" a female voice asks.

It's Gypsy! I rush over and pull the door fully open, revealing that it is indeed the psychic. She had dyed her hair red and cut it short, but there was no mistaking her.

"She was just leaving, Sammy," Dean says protectively.

"No, wait," I say. "It's okay. I want to talk to her."

"Make it short," Dean says before angrily walking off.

I step outside and shut the door behind me. We sit down on the steps and are quiet for a minute before she speaks.

"I've been searching for you for a long time. Worried that you died destroying the demon. I've only been able to see you in my mind's eye since a couple of weeks ago," she says.

I quickly recap the events since I was taken by the angel on the beach in Atlantic City following that fight.

"Ah," she said with a smile as she rests her hand on my knee. "Now I understand why you were invisible to me then and not now, but it does not matter. I have some things I wish to tell you and I cannot stay long."

"If it's Dean you're worried about, don't-," I start to say.

"It's not Dean," she says, her smile leaving her face. "I have to keep moving, for my own safety and sanity. Been on the go for a while now. No more A.C. tourists for me. I'm done with that sham of a life. But speaking of Dean, don't be upset at him for what he did. He thought he was doing the right thing."

"Was he?" I ask, genuinely interested in an objective opinion.

She smiled.

"I would have. You're...you're a very special person Sam. You deserve heaven on earth."

"Not any more than anyone else!" I implore to her. "Why is everyone so concerned about what I deserve?"

"I would expect you to say that, Sam. Always giving and never wanting, or expecting, anything in return," Gyspy says with another smile.

"I'm no saint!" I exclaim, sick of everyone always either putting me up high on a pedestal or treating me with kid gloves.

"I said special, Sam, not saint," she reminded me gently.

"Why did you come?" I ask next, suspecting she has a question for me.

"How are you doing?" she asks without looking me in the eye.

"Okay...I mean I still have headaches, but they're manageable," I answer, confused by how this question was worth her possibly dangerous visit.

"No, let me ask it a different way. Can you still do it?" she asks softly.

"Do what?" I ask before I understand that she is asking about my psychic abilities. "I don't know. I haven't tried since...since I remembered I could."

She nods her head.

"Don't try," she advises with a look of fear and sadness on her face as she stands.

"Why are you telling me that? I don't know why I would need to-," I began to say before she interupted me with another hand on my knee.

"You have dealt them a heavy blow, by killing the silver eyed demon. The scale has now been tipped far in our favor...but...and never forget this...just as there is always good, there is always evil. The demons will again gather power. A hero...a savior...will again be needed and the demons will again seek to recruit or destroy that individual," Gyspy explains.

"Are you saying that...that I'll have to do this all over again?" I ask with a jolt of panic and shock.

"Haven't you already in one way or another? Over and over again?" she points. "And each time it is harder and harder, calling on you to sacrifice more and more. But you don't have to. I know you feel it is your burden, but it's not. Or at least doesn't have to be anymore. I care about you Sam, and I want you to know that. They don't know where you are, at least not yet. That is another reason I dare not stay in your precense for long. But if you start testing your abilities again, they will know."

"But what happened to it's my fate and desitny and all that other stuff you told me?" I exclaim before something else far more terrifying dawns on me. "Wait. Did you...did you have another premontion about me? Is that why you have been looking for me?"

"Just...just don't try," she repeats with tears in her eyes. "Please."

She gives me a hug and starts to walk to her car.

"Where will you go?" I call out to her and she turns to look back at me.

She reads between the lines, knowing I really mean, "How will I find you when I need you again?"

She doesn't answer, gets in her car, and drives away. I stay standing out there for a while staring out at nothing, trying my best to digest our converstation and wondering what the future has in store for me and everyone else.

"What did Pseudo Psychic want?" Dean asks suspciously, likely worried about why I have not yet come back inside.

"Wanted to ask if I was okay," I answer.

"Are you?" Dean asks.

"For now," I reply truthfully, realizing that in our line of work that is all we can hope for.

"Are we okay?" he asks me next.

I smile.

"Yeah, Dean. We're okay," I answer just as truthfully.

Thanks again for reading this last part. I hope you all enjoyed it. I could go on writing another whole story to this trilogy, but like Gypsy, it's time to move on. :)