Epilogue
10 Years Later
Its a sunny day. The sky is perfectly clear and the sun beats down. A small house comes into view. It's nothing special, nothing extraordinary. The front door is heavy, and painted black. It looks like a void against the cheery blue paint of the house. The windows are obscured, it's hard to see inside them. Suddenly a shriek, followed by a crash, and then another shriek shatter the cosy silence. It doesn't seem to be coming from inside the house. A shout now, louder, admonishing calls back to the screams, which die, turning into laughter.
Without warning, two children come barrelling around the corner, chasing each other. Two boys, of about 8 and 6 years old. The older one is front, running, and looking behind him, laughing, as his brother tries to keep up. The younger boy has a water pistol in his hand, his face set in the grim resoluteness that is more familiar on soldier's faces. He is determined to get his brother back. He pushes his wet fringe out of his eyes, and shouts something intelligibly at his brother akin to a war cry. As quickly as they come into view, they are gone again, rounding the other corner of the house into the back garden.
The back garden is spacious, and tidy. The whole house has a sense of order that is comforting, but the garden… There are flowers everywhere, skirting along the expanse of lawn. Some of the flowers are wild looking. Primitive and man eating. Others are small, and sweet. The smells are heady and all encompassing. It is difficult to not be assaulted by some aroma in this place. But today, above all of that, over taking even Nature's scent, is the glorious smell of meat cooking.
To the left of the garden sits a circle of concrete, which houses a barbeque. A monstrous looking contraption made of steel and testosterone. A stool sits to its right, vacant at the moment. Cas stands at the helm of this machine. He remembers the first time he used one of them, and how he was worried that the meat would burn. He smiles as he turns one of the steaks, poking it a little to see just how done it is. A beer bottle appears at his shoulder.
"Thanks."
"You're welcome." Sam snaps his bottle open, and deftly throws the lid onto the garden table a few feet away. He arranges himself on the stool. It would be comical if Sam somehow did not look so composed.
They remain in silence for a few moments.
"It's good, Cas."
Cas smiled. Sometimes Sam would say this, especially when he was feeling introspective, or that he just couldn't believe that this is where he ended up. They had had numerous talks over the years about what they had come through, and where they were heading. Cas felt that sometimes Sam didn't believe he had come through it all. Sometimes Cas felt the same.
"Yes, it is Sam." Cas held up his beer. Sam grinned and toasted Cas in response.
Their moment of quiet was shattered when the two children came barrelling towards them.
"Hey, hey! Take it easy on your brother, Robbie, he's smaller than you." Sam said, as he scooped the smaller child up, who squirmed magnificently. "PUT ME DOWN PUT ME DOWN PUT ME DOWN. IMMA GET HIM DAD!"
"Fine, but if your mom calls, you go help her ok?"
"Okay, okay. Robbie, you're dead!"
"Gotta catch me first, Henry!"
"Do they ever just sit quietly?" asked Cas, turning one of the hot dogs.
Sam grinned at him. "Nope. But I wouldn't have it any other way."
The sizzle of meat fills in the lull in conversation, when the silence is broken once more, this time by a static voice.
"Cas?"
Cas fished around in his pocket and retrieved a small white box. He pressed down on a button, and spoke softly into it.
"Yes?"
"Can you come up here? You need to see this."
Cas turned and looked expectantly at Sam, who said "No problem, I got this.", and divested Cas of the tongs he had been using to turn the now almost over done meat. Cas smiled, and made his way back to the house. Passing through the kitchen, he saw Kevin sitting at the small round table, shelling peas with Sam's wife, Liz, deep in conversation. Liz was a beautiful woman, all long limbs and a shock of red hair. She smiled easily at Cas as he passed, waving slightly, not wanting to interrupt Kevin, who was gesticulating with a half shelled pod. He glanced into the living room, and stepped in quickly to catch a flying Henry, who had launched himself from the bookshelf onto the sofa. Robbie was holding court in the opposite corner, whooping as Cas managed to catch Henry before his misjudged jump landed him on the floor. "You two should play outside. My bookshelves can't handle any more aerial acrobatics. Go see if your Dad needs any help." Groans from the kids. Cas didn't say anything, but looked down at his nephews. "Fine, fine, we're going. C'mon Henry, last one out's a rotten egg!" Robbie streaked past him, followed by Henry, who was screaming about not being any sort of food. Cas bent over to pick up the couple of books that Henry had knocked out with his stuntman abilities, straightening the pictures that decorated the middle shelf, and the shelf over the fireplace. He smiled to himself as his eyes fell on the picture from last Christmas, where it was a struggle to get everyone into the photograph. Everyone was squished, and full of food, and wearing stupid hats, and Henry and Charlie were wearing matching raspberries.
"Cas?" came the static voice from his pocket. Impatient now. "You coming or what?"
"Sorry, I had to stop Henry from pulling the bookcases down. Again. I will be another moment."
Cas placed his hand on the rail of the stairs just as the front doorbell rang. He opened it a second later. Standing on the outside was a surprised Charlie. "I wasn't expecting you to answer quite so quickly." she said, breathlessly, as she leaned in to hug Cas as best she could whilst holding several bags. "Nice to see you too Charlie. Head towards the kitchen, Sam is outside and I'm not sure where- "
"CHARLIE!" came the interruption. Charlie instantly dropped the bags and pulled the two kids who had materialised almost out of thin air, into a tight hug. Cas could hear them jabbering about some sort of computer game as he climbed the staircase, two at a time.
He stopped in front of the third door to the left, and gently clicked it open. Inside the room wasbright and simple. He could hear the sound of Dean humming softly. It took Cas a second to realise it was "Jesse's Girl".
"Hello, Dean."
Dean started. "Jesus Christ Cas. You would think that I would be used to it by now, but nope. Every. Time." Dean was standing beside the window, looking down into the back garden, holding a baby to his chest. He crossed the room, and held the little girl at arms length. "Look." Dean was grinning.
Cas inspected his daughter, and a smile crept across his face, and he shook his head slightly. "Where did you get it?"
"Charlie sent it. It only came this morning. Pretty nice, ain't it?"
Cas could only laugh. His baby daughter, not even 2 years old, had just received her first Led Zeppelin t-shirt. Her tiny chubby arms grasped it slightly as she reacted to her parents' laughter, gabbling something unintelligible.
"Hey, Cas?"
"Hmm?" said Cas, looking up at Dean, as he held a little hand.
"Did you ever think it would end this way? After all we did… after everything.. how can we have this?"
This conversation was not new. Cas and Dean, and Sam and Kevin, and Charlie, had all had this conversation many many times since they slammed the doors of Hell closed, and made absolute sure that Heaven was on lockdown. And each time they had reasoned that, perhaps, just perhaps, good things did happen. In the end.
Cas said nothing, but found Dean's hand with his, and squeezed gently. "We should head down."
Dean swallowed quickly. "Yeah, let's do that."
A couple of hundred feet away, just where the main road met the little track leading to Dean and Cas' house, sat an old blue, clapped out heap of junk truck. Inside the truck a man is leaning down into the passenger seat to reach for something on the floor. As he straightens up, Chuck smiles to himself, and he shoves the old cassette into the tape player. The sounds of "Carry on my Wayward Son" fill the car, as he slowly pulls away.