A/N: First Supernatural fic, here we go
Every hero's journey must meet its end, but perhaps the Winchesters' end is only a new beginning.
End.
Dean Winchester had a hunter's funeral. Burned body and all, for Sam swore to let him be. This was the end of the road, one that ended more or less before it started, and it was time for one of them to find peace.
The battle was long, 29 years too long. They were never sure who or what exactly killed him. They were surrounded by demons and angels alike. Castiel was occupied protecting his brother, one he had killed but whom had been resurrected for an evil plot. Samandriel was not at his fullest and Cas would be damned if he didn't save his brother this time. But in saving one he lost another. Sam fought demons across the field, oblivious to the fact that he was missing his brother's last moments.
It may have been Naomi, or maybe Crowley, or even a low level Leviathan that joined the fight. No one was sure who got the final stab into Dean Winchester, but no one was around to be held liable after he fell. Dean died in the arms of his brother, with his angel kneeling next to him. Samandriel and Kevin stood a few yards away, watching the death of hero. Dean knew he was dead when he hit the ground. And he was okay with it. The pain in his back was subsiding and his vision was coming out of focus. He smiled with a bloody mouth up at Sam and whispered "Bitch," which caused his entire body to shake with the effort. Tears rolled down Sam's face as he whispered a "Jerk," back with a shaky laugh. Cas had tried to heal him but whatever had caused the wound was impervious to angel power. Dean flopped his head to his right to look at the angel. Cas furrowed his brow and asked "Am I supposed to say a derogatory term?" Insulting Dean was the last thing he wanted to do. Dean laughed again, moaning at the pain as Sam held him tighter. "No. You're fine Cas." With a final breath and a lopsided grin, Dean's eyes fell shut. For the first time since Creation an angel wept.
The funeral was uncommonly crowded for a hunter's burial. Sam was adamant about burning his brother. They weren't pulling any tricks. What was dead should stay dead. Sam, Castiel, Garth, Kevin and his mother, Benny, and Samandriel stood feet away from the pyre and simply watched the flames. Even Charlie Bradbury showed up. She's heard from a fairy who'd heard from an angel that the greatest hunter of their era was slain in battle. She was able to track them and showed to pay her respects. But there was no "Peace out bitches" at the end. There was no reason to smile.
Sam Winchester never went on another hunt in his life. The only member of the funeral congregation he ever saw again was Castiel, and that was only twice before they met in heaven at the end. Amelia was not hard to find. Don had left her again, and the two fell into the same relationship as they had during Dean's time in Purgatory. Only this time was different. Sam knew this was permanent. This was the life he'd dreamed of since he left for Stanford all those years ago, and he no longer felt guilty for enjoying it. Every now and then he would go into their garage to uncover the old 1967 Chevrolet Impala that hadn't been driven in years. He never drove it, just looked. He looked at the army man in the ash tray, the initials carved into it, and the old cassette tapes in the backseat. He would smile and wonder how his big brother was doing. Garth offered to take the car off his hands many times but Sam said no: he wanted to have a little bit of home with him.
Heaven wasn't much different than Earth, Dean realized when he woke up in the front seat of the Impala. He knew he was dead, he remembered dying, but suddenly all the pain was gone. His heaven began on a long, winding road he drove along until he found his and Sam's old house in Lawrence. He relived his greatest memories: all memories of his mother, learning to shoot a rifle with his father and Bobby, his bendy weekend with Lisa Braeden, singing 'Dead or Alive' with Sam just before his death years previously, laughing as Cas sat awkwardly at a brothel, and many others. This heaven business wasn't so bad. He often searched for any other being in his heaven but was unable to find anyone. The only time he encountered his father, Bobby, Ellen, Jo, or any of the ones he lost was in memories. He also looked for Cas but the angel was nowhere to be seen.
Castiel stood on the edge of Dean's heaven. His own sunny heaven adjacent. Angels could never walk into a human's heaven unless he or she was commanded from God or the archangels (who were no more). But Cas often found himself wandering throughout Dean's heaven effortlessly. He supposed angels worked the same as humans: if the two shared a bond they could share a heaven. But Cas never interacted with Dean. This was his heaven, his perfection, and not one for Cas to interfere with. Besides, he had another Winchester downstairs if he ever got lonely. But he never found himself lonely. Dean's heaven was perfect. His friend was smiling like he'd never seen. The remaining angels had rejoiced, for the greatest hero had joined them in the clouds. Castiel simply smiled. He never understood happiness but in watching Dean he did. Perhaps his Father was home after all.