It was over. Finally fucking over. Dean looked over at Sam, assessing once more the damage he'd taken. The final battle hadn't been easy and his brain was still flooded with adrenaline; he could barely think straight.
Sam caught Dean looking him over and smiled, wincing as his broken nose, busted lip, and various other injuries reminded him of their presence. He really looked like shit, probably worse than any other time Dean had seen him (without him being unconscious or dead).
Dean finally let go and allowed a smile; the most sincere smile he'd given in what felt like years. Even the blood in his mouth and broken leg and arm couldn't stop this.
He glanced into the back seat and couldn't hold back the painful stretch as his smile got wider. Why try? His mind was catching up with him and he really hoped it wouldn't overwhelm him right in front of Sammy, but… There they were; Castiel, Adam, and Gabriel, squished into the back seat and snoring. If they didn't all look so bloody and worn out it would be almost comical. As it was, though, they had to get the whole group to the hospital. They were all pretty fucked up, of course, but all were breathing and that's all that mattered.
It was actually… Over. God was back, his children taken care of, their biggest problems solved. If nothing else, they would be back to hunting in a month, tops.
Sam broke the silence as Dean marveled about the concept of going back to the way it was, probably with a few new partners.
"So… We did it." He said quietly, trying not to wake the others.
"We… we did." Dean's voice cracked and he tried to clear it, but it was pretty fucking emotional okay? Dean was allowed his moment of brotherly pride and shut the hell up tears are manly.
"I mean, Dean… We did it." Sam caught Dean's eye and Dean knew he was fucked. The tears started slow as he tried to rein them in, but it wasn't going to stop any time soon. Dean looked away and wiped his eyes.
"D-dean, are you… crying?"
He turned back, ready to deny everything even with the tear tracks cutting through the blood on his cheeks, but he didn't have to. Sam was too, shoulders beginning to shake as everything caught up to him. Dean shook his head and looked back at the road, biting his lip at the pain in his neck, and smirked as they pulled into the hospital emergency driveway.
"Shut up, Bitch."
Sam didn't respond for a few seconds and Dean felt worry creep up his spine, but as they watched a medical team rush to the broken car Dean heard it.
"…Jerk."
[FADE OUT TO CARRY ON MY WAYWARD SON]
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