before the read, i would like to thank Reincarnated Poet for the great advice (i did a little dance with the review :), along with all the other reviewers. they mean a lot to me, and im truly grateful. im sure that if it hadnt been for you guys, i think i wouldve stopped a long time ago.
alright, on with the last chapter!
Dean watched in silence as his father continued to pack up his few, meager belongings. As he was doing so, he noticed his father carrying an unfamiliar key. He squinted. It was the same shape as the black one for the Impala, but appeared lighter in color, more grayish.
John threw the luggage over his shoulder and turned toward the group. He wasn't holding any weapons, so Dean considered he had already put it all in the secret compartment of the trunk.
Dean felt his mood darken even more at the thought of losing the beloved car. His mind was all jumbled, couldn't even piece together the simplest of puzzles. He just stood there, face to face with his own father, a tear slipping down his cheek and along his jaw. So this was goodbye.
John took a few large steps and pulled Dean into a tight, fierce hug, both his arms nearly engulfing Dean's shoulders and upper back. Dean's grip was just as tight, his hands tight around his father's waist.
John shifted minutely, slowly bringing his mouth close to Dean's ear. "I hope you'll forgive me one day."
Another tear fell down Dean's already-stained cheek, making it's way onto the floor. He said nothing. He wanted, so bad, to say "There's nothing to forgive, Dad" but he knew it wasn't true. He had hurt Sam, his brother, and that was not something he was going to take lightly.
John did the smallest of nods, as if already resigning himself to Dean's silence. "You know I love you, right?"
Dean quivered, his bottom lip shaking violently. "Always."
Evidently, John had taken the time to buy a new truck to leave Dean with the Impala. And when he said "truck", he meant "bigass, monster weaponry machine". Dean smiled sadly at the man's chose of transportation, waving toward his father's retreating figure as he drove down the path, next designated hunt being near Minnesota.
With a newfound depression, Dean prepared his body for the trek back into the motel. His own hunt with John, the werewolves, had been left completely forgotten, and he didn't have the energy to worry about it now. He just didn't.
As he turned to the small entrance to the motel, he saw them: Sam and Jacob, side-by-side, offering him small, just-as-sad smiles. Their sudden depression, Dean thought, was probably for a different reason than my own. They're sad because I'm sad, right?
Sam took the initiave step forward as Jacob stayed where he was, his expression the same grim, barely noticeable smile. Sam pulled Dean into a hug of his own; not fierce, like John's, but soothing, comforting. Dean embraced it with the same notion, wrapping his arms silently around Sam's too thin body. Samput his head in the crook of Dean's neck, and Dean took the time to place his hand softly in Sam's hair, ruffling it lovingly.
Sam's voice was barely above a whisper. "He can stay, you know? I don't hate him anymore. You love him too much for me to hate him."
Dean's eyebrows furrowed, his hand in Sam's hair stopping in place. He couldn't mean that, could he? Dean knew better. John had hurt Sam, scarred him even, and he knew Sam's love for the man would never equal anything. He was doing this for Dean, the selfish bastard. He knew how much John meant to him and, so be it if he must torture himself for Dean's happiness.
Dean shook his head fervently against Sam's head, knowing he felt the sign of his denial. "No, Sam, I'm not doing that to you. He's going to Minnesota for a hunt, and that's where I expect him to stay." He tightened his grip around Sam, just now realizing he had meant the words entirely, bringing a small, but genuine smile on his face. John didn't belong in his life right now. Sure, he'd probably continue hunting, teach Sam and maybe even Jacob, but his father was no longer in charge of him. He could make his own decisions now with the these two, probably the most important ones in his life.
Dean sat quietly at the front porch, his hands clasped lightly over his stomach. These were the kind of moments he would remember forever, he told himself without shame. Despite the fact he felt like he was in some part of a chick-flick movie, it felt right, and that was good enough for him.
Sam and Jacob chased each other on the small lawn, Jacob throwing himself on Sam's back, toppling them to the floor. If Dean hadn't have known better, he would have went to see if they were okay, but he did know better. Sam wouldn't let Jacob get hurt and Jacob wasn't strong enough to hurt Sam.
Sam swiftly flipped over, throwing Jacob under him, who was currently in a laughing fit. He got even more rambunctous when Sam attacked Jacob's armpits, a weird squeaky noise escaping Jacob's mouth, tears running down his cheeks.
"Ahh! Ok, I give up. You win" Jacob said hysterically between gasps of what seemed like laughing gas. After a moment, Sam stopped and got up from on top of him, finally standing on two feet. Jacob stayed on the ground, his eyes closed and his arms splayed out thoughtfully over the grass. He looked so at peace, Dean thought inwardly. Sam was probably thinking the same thing as a small smile graced his lips.
He turned to Dean, then walked over toward him. Sam sat next to him on the bench, taking a long, tired breath, the smile never leaving. Dean laughed a little, placing his hand on Sam's shoulder and giving it a small tug in his direction. Sam complied, allowing his head to be placed on Dean's shoulder as he ruffled the kid's hair.
For a moment, they just sat there, watching Jacob, watching the cars go by, watching people walking their dogs. Everything was the way it was supposed to be, exactly how Dean wanted it. Albeit, he did want to start up hunting again but, for now, this vacation was necessary. If not for him, then for Sam and Jacob.
Dean moved his hand from Sam's hair to rub his back. This was exactly how it was supposed to be. The three of them, together. Dean smiled, his hand going up and down along Sam's back soothingly. "You know I love you, right?"
From Dean's position, he could see the beginnings of a small smile etched on Sam's mouth. He smiled. Sam replied.
alright, so thats the end of that one. remember to vote for ur fav story on my profile.
i want to thank all of you readers for baring with me and i hope the ending met expectations!!
hope u liked it!!!!!!