I am so sorry this took me forever to post. I'm having computer trouble and have to use my uncle's spare. So, if updates are slow, blame the fact that I am computer-less.
Anyway, this is the end. It was written pretty quickly, but I hope it is to your satisfaction.
This is set after Swan Song, so expect a few spoilers from that. I really hope to catch you in the next story and let me know what you think.
Cicero, Indiana, 2015…
His car used to be his sanctuary, his home, the one thing he could always count on to be there. He used to slip behind the wheel, turn the engine over, and drive to God knows where in search of God knew what. He knew the smell, knew the sounds it should and should not make, knew practically everything about it. It used to be his baby.
Now, he barely touched it. He just kept it in the garage, only using it when he needed to get away for an hour or two. He would just sit in the backseat and let his mind wander. He should have sold it, but he had so many damn memories with the thing that he couldn't. Most of those memories were with Sam.
God he missed Sam. It had been five years and still he missed him. He knew that feeling would never go away, not when he practically raised the kid from six months. Not when he knew there was a way to bring him back. But he couldn't do that, he promised he wouldn't, and he stuck to the promise. For five years he stuck to the promise.
In five years he had accomplished pretty much everything Sam asked him to. He went to sporting events (but instead of football it was baseball and soccer), he went to barbeques (and talked to the other dad's-who would have known they were not as boring as Dean thought), and kept himself busy with an 'Average Joe' job at an 'Average Joe' garage. Dean Winchester had become a civ, and, truthfully, he really enjoyed it. It was actually the most relaxed he had been in a very long time.
Of course, life with Lisa and Ben made it ten times more interesting. Without them he probably wouldn't have put forth half the effort he did. Sam had made a good call, asking Dean to go to Lisa, beg her to take him back; even if it didn't take much begging to get her to agree.
There was a soft knock on the window, his head whipping around to see who it was. He could see the top of a head, a mop of curly brown hair. He couldn't help smiling as he reached over to open the door, letting in the little boy.
Samuel John Winchester was named for two of the most important people in Dean's life. He was born a year to the day of his uncle's death. He was also about as close to Sam as Dean could get without breaking some serious promises. The kid asked so many questions, on so many subjects, at the most random times, exactly like older Sam did. It also didn't help that he took after Sam-and John by default. He had dark hair, dark eyes, and a darker complexion than Dean's fair skin. He did, however, inherit Dean's freckles. A spatter of them went across the bridge of his nose, almost an exact match to his father's. Poor kid, Dean thought with a quiet chuckle.
"Mom says dinner's ready," Sam said pulling himself into the car.
"Thanks, Sammy," Dean said but didn't move from his spot.
"Whatcha doing?" Sam asked curiously.
"Did you ever wonder how you got your name?"
"Would you like to know?"
"I have a feeling you're gonna tell me." his sense of humor rivaled Sam's, too. He didn't even know what sarcasm meant, but he was still full of it.
"I had a brother named Sam, and my father's name was John."
"And what happened to them? How come I've never met them? I would like to met Grandpa Winchester and Uncle Sam."
"That'll be kinda hard, Sammy. They are no longer with us." Dean fell silent, glancing down at his hands.
"That's not fair. They never even got to meet me," Sam grumbled crossing his arms across his chest.
"No, they didn't. But I know they would have liked you." Dean put his arm around his son's shoulder, pulling him against him.
"Tell me about them," Sam whispered leaning against his father. Before Dean could respond, Lisa appeared at the door and said, "Didn't Sam tell you dinner was ready?"
"Yeah," Dean said pushing the door open. He got out of the Impala, waiting for Sam to follow before closing the door. He headed around the car, closing the other door on the way. Both father and son followed Lisa into the house. Dean glanced back at the Impala, taking one final look at it, before closing the garage door.
"Go wash up," Lisa told Sam as she walked over to the stove. Sam grumbled under his breath, but did as he was asked. As he disappeared down the hall, Dean headed toward the fridge. Halfway there, he grabbed Lisa around the waist and pulled her into a kiss.
"Mr. Winchester are you trying to seduce me?" she asked with a small smile on her face.
"Depends, is it working?" Dean asked bury his face in her hair.
"We'll see," she said and pulled out of his grasp. "You mind getting the drinks. Ben! Get down here and set the table!" there was thudding on the steps and her son appeared around the corner. At sixteen, Ben had taken to dressing in darker colors and addressing everyone with a surly attitude that rivaled Sam's teenage years. He was going through, what the books called, a 'phase.' A phase that was driving Dean crazy, along with Lisa's constant badgering about 'the books.' Dean didn't need some stupid book to tell him Ben was going through a phase, he had risen a teenager, he knew what phases were. Besides, he should be so lucky it was a phase, Sam's turned into a lifelong thing.
"What?" Ben said, burying his hands in his pockets.
"Set the table," Lisa said pointing to the plates and silverware sitting on the counter.
"Fine," the sixteen year old mumbled and set to work.
"Wow, no arguing. That's a first," Lisa muttered to Dean, throwing him a relived smile. "Maybe he's getting over it."
"And maybe he's right here, listening to you talk about me," Ben snapped as he set the plates on the table.
"Ben, take a chill pill," Dean said without raising his voice. In five years he had mellowed some, figuring getting angry at little things wasn't exactly a healthy lifestyle. "You're mother was just surprised. She thought you'd tell her to set the table herself or something. She wasn't trying to insult you."
"Whatever," Ben grumbled and continued his task.
"How do you always dodge a bullet with him?" Lisa always asked the same question, and Dean always gave the same answer.
"I'm just gifted."
"Sure you are," she replied with a roll of her eyes.
They sat down to dinner not longer after, Sam complaining about this new girl in school. "I mean, she doesn't need to steal my crayons. I would be happy to let her use them if she asked."
"Sweetie, it's because she likes you," Lisa said across from him.
"But girls are icky," Sam said around a mouthful of potatoes.
"That'll change in a few years," Dean commented swirling the contents of his glass around before taking a drank.
"And don't talk with your mouth full," Lisa scolded just like every night. Dean just smiled and took another drank. As much as he missed Sam and his parents, wished they were still around, he had found family elsewhere. It felt pretty good.
"Huh, the streetlight went out," Lisa commented bringing Dean back to reality. "That's odd."
"Maybe it's the bulb," Dean said glancing out the window. He thought he saw a silhouette, but a second glance revealed nothing. He shook his head, putting his mind at ease before he could start thinking of totally supernatural related things. It was nothing, probably a bad breaker, he'd call someone in the morning…
Thanks for all the reviews and alerts, they were great. I owned nothing remotely recognizable and I'm glad you read this. Until next time…