A/N: Pudding!! Just in response to the few people who reviewed with that haha. Y'all know that it's gonna take at least 4 months for that to get old in fandom, at least. Poor Jensen, can you imagine the harassment he's going to get at conventions? lol. Anyways here it is, gang, the last shebang. Thank you all again so much!
It had taken a long time to convince Sam to stick around town a little longer, but eventually, Sam had gotten too tired and too irritated to care what they did. He felt bad about pushing Sam but he had important unfinished business to take care of, and his brother needed the extra rest anyways. So with Sam out like a light in the motel room, Dean quietly makes his way out the door and to the Impala. A brief feeling of irony sweeps over him as he realizes that for once, he is sneaking out to do something he knows his brother wouldn't approve of. He pushes the feeling and thoughts away immediately because they aren't going to do anything but harm, and he and Sam promised each other that things were going to change. And if Dean has to move a mountain, heaven, or hell, things are going to change because Sam had almost died due to all the crap built up between them.
Dean shakes his head to clear it before he puts the car in gear, and takes off towards Mia's Bar. While Sam had been under, Dean kept track of the news to see if anything popped up on Zeke or Greg. As far as he can tell, they're still free, unsuspected men who are flying high as a kite right now, because they think they got away with almost killing Sam. Except Dean had promised himself that there'd be blood and blood there will be, because no one hurts his brother and gets away with it.
He knows that in any other situation and with anyone else, this would never work. Most people are smart enough to avoid the places they almost commit murder at. However, he knows that Zeke and Greg are cocky enough and arrogant enough to go back and not only act like nothing happened, but act like they could do it again and it'd be no problem. Dean's about to cramp their style in the worst way.
It's 1 a.m. and Mia's is slowing down, which is exactly the way Dean wants it. Less people means there's less chance of witnesses and problems. He sort of took a chance assuming that Zeke and Greg would be there but he wasn't about to pass this opportunity up. Honestly, even if they weren't there, Dean would just visit them at home but he can't deny the poetry of getting his revenge in the same place that they tried to kill Sam.
As fate or luck would have it, they are there, shooting pool and having a laugh. Dean smirks in triumph, feeling like the cat who caught the canary as he stalks up to the pool table.
"No way, man, I totally called it. I won this round."
"Bullshit, you called it! It was the wrong pocket, moron."
"Dude, no one likes a whiner. Get over it."
"Hope I'm not interrupting anything," Dean says as he smiles, his eyes glowing with deadly promise.
Greg tilts his head in annoyance but Zeke's eyes widen in realization, "You."
"Me," Dean confirms and then shrugs, "Figured we had some unfinished business, thought I'd stop by to see if you had the balls to tend to it."
Zeke's surprised look hardens at the challenge but Greg still looks confused, so Dean directs his attention to him.
"How bout you, Princess? You up for it?" Dean asks with a tilt of his head, "How's your nose, by the way? My brother got you good."
The pieces click together in Greg's eyes instantly and soon he's wearing the same determination on his face as his cousin, "Not as good as I got him."
Immediate, liquid hot rage pulses through Dean as Greg gloats about stabbing Sam, and suddenly, Dean wonders if he can do this without straight out killing them both. Then he wonders if that was his intention all along.
"We should take this outside," Zeke suggests and then raises an eyebrow, "Unless you're having second thoughts."
Dean puts a cap on his anger long enough to smile tightly, "Get walking, Chuckles."
Greg goes out first, then Zeke and then Dean. As soon as the heavy industrial-like door slams shut behind them, the three men spread out and start to circle each other, sizing each other up and working on their defenses.
"You realize how stupid this idea is, right?" Zeke asks, pure confidence rolling off him.
"I've had stupider," Dean replies easily.
Zeke snorts, "Some how, I don't doubt that. How's your bro, by the way?"
"Alive," Dean snarls tightly, "Which is something you might not be by the end of the night."
"Big words, you sure you can deliver?"
Dean smiles, feeling the weight of his two favorite handguns at the small of his back, "I haven't had any complaints yet."
Zeke barks out a short laugh, "I like you. It's too bad we have to kick your ass into next Thursday."
Dean shrugs but doesn't respond as he continues to shift his weight, keeping his options open as he surveys his opponent's actions. Zeke is going to try to attack first, which is exactly what Dean wants him to do. He's not disappointed when Zeke strikes out with his fist fast, almost catching Dean's jaw in what would have been a bone crunching punch. Would've been, if Dean hadn't pulled his double Berettas and directed them both at Zeke.
Zeke freezes in mid punch to stare at the other end of Dean's guns in shock. He recovers quickly however, "Guns? Dude, that's weak. I knew you'd talk a good game but you'd never be able to play it."
"Oh don't worry," Dean says and pulls back the hammer of both guns, "I can play the game."
Dean quickly re-aims and squeezes the triggers. Zeke goes down hard, yowling in pain as he curls into a ball on the concrete.
"You son of a bitch!" Greg yells as he takes a few frantic steps towards his fallen cousin.
"Don't worry, they're just thigh shots, he'll live…probably," Dean quips with a half shrug, "You however, you're a different story."
For the first time since Dean's met them, Greg actually looks scared. Good, Dean wants him scared, no, Dean wants him terrified. Dean pulls the hammers back again and takes a few threatening steps towards Greg.
"No, hold on, man…"
"And why should I do that?" Dean demands as he glares at the other man, "Give me one good reason why I should let you live."
Greg swallows as he fearfully stares at Dean, his head shaking slowly in denial, "Please."
"Not so tough now are you? How does it feel, to have the tables turned on you?" Dean asks menacingly as he takes a cursorily glance at Zeke, who's still curled on the ground, breathing through the pain.
"You made your point, ok? Just, walk it off or something," Greg half begs as his back touches the brick wall behind him.
"Sure. Just one thing," Dean says and then, quick as a snake, pulls the trigger.
Greg goes down with a loud yell that sounds more like a wail, but unlike his cousin, he remains upright due to the wall behind him. Dean closes the distance between them with a few steps and crouches down so that he's eye level with Greg. Greg follows his movements like a hawk, his eyes a mix of agony and pure terror.
Dean leans in close enough so that his breath dances over Greg's chin, "You knifed my brother and left him here to die, and he would've, he did. And now? Now my head's screaming at me to put a bullet through your head."
Dean stops to watch Greg swallow and to see his eyes well up with tears, "But I won't cause lucky for you, I've got a promise I've got to keep."
It's the truth. As much as he thinks they deserve to die for what they put Sam through, he promised himself when he got out of hell that he'd never kill another human ever again. He's going to make good on that promise.
Greg's face fills with relief as Dean stands and moves to walk away down the alley.
"Hey, wait!" Greg calls, "You're just going to leave us here?"
Dean stops and shrugs, "One of you has to have a phone, use it."
With that, Dean goes back to the Impala, feeling the revenge in his chest settle and disappear.
When he walks back into the motel room, Sam's awake and sitting on the bed, staring at the blank t.v. Dean looks between his brother and the tube before shutting the door and sitting on the opposite bed.
"Where'd you go?" Sam asks, his voice low.
Dean swallows, "Mia's."
No more lies, no more secrets, no more nothing.
Everything in Sam's tone suggests that he already knows why but Dean takes it for what it is, a test, an answer to a promise.
"Needed to take care of something."
Sam nods and looks down, "Are they…I mean, did you…"
Dean shakes his head, "They're alive."
Sam lets out a relieved breath and then pauses, "You didn't have to do that."
"Yeah, I did," Dean replies, "Gotta look out for my pain in the ass little brother."
Sam cracks a small but true smile and Dean figures for that alone, it was all worth it.
A/N: End. I hope you enjoyed it! Dean might have seemed a little…mean, but remember this is post-hell and well, he was pissed lol.