Disclaimer: This is a transformative work of fiction, written for personal pleasure not gain. Based on the original creation of E. Kripke. Thanks for the lend of your toys, dude…

A/N: Spoilers for 5.10. Missing scene between the scene with Lucifer and the final scene at Bobby's.


Cas pressed his finger to his lips and then touched both their foreheads. Sam was a little surprised when they materialized beside the Impala and not back at Bobby's.

"Shouldn't we be farther away than this?" Sam wondered out loud.

"Your brother would only make us come back for his car," Cas explained with that funny almost-smile he'd suddenly developed.

"Damn straight," Dean grunted from where he was propped against the black side of his baby.

"Dean! How're you doing?" Sam immediately went to his brother's side, silently berating himself for not having checked on him immediately.

"Been better," Dean allowed. "But we'd better shag ass outta here. Lucifer's only gonna be distracted by Death for so long…"

Dean attempted to push himself up, but pain shot through his body and the world swam sickeningly about him. Sam pressed a hand to his chest holding him in place.

"Where Dean?"

"Shoulder. Think it's out again," Dean ground out. "Ribs, maybe."

"And head. Let's not forget head," Sam added, rising and moving to the trunk to get the first aid kit. Cas had taken up position as guard. He noted with some apprehension that even the reapers were gone from the town.

"I believe we should hurry," Cas stated.

Sam gently helped his brother away from the car, being careful of his dislocated shoulder.

"Ready?" Sam asked.

"As I'll ever be," Dean ground out.

"On three," Sam prompted. "One…"

"Aaarrggh," Dean grunted, doing his best not to scream as Sam shoved his shoulder back in its socket, but the wave of pain that flooded through his body finally tipped the scales that were holding the nausea from his concussion at bay. He doubled over retching uncontrollably. When he finally managed to stop heaving, he was unable to stop shaking.

Sam broke open and activated several cold packs and retrieved water and ibuprofen. He handed the later to his brother. Dean rinsed his mouth and swallowed two pills, wincing.

"Doubt those'll stay down long," he pointed out.

"Well, do the best you can. Let's get you in the back seat and get the hell out of Dodge," Sam said, managing to find a way to help his brother to his feet. Dean swayed precariously.

"Not the back seat," he protested weakly, his words slurring and his eyes at half mast.

"Humour me for once?"

Sam was a little dismayed that Dean was out of it enough not to fight him on it and let Sam slide him gently into the back seat. Grabbing the activated cold packs, Sam nestled them around his brother's shoulder in an attempt to keep the swelling to a minimum. He threw the blanket from the floor of the backseat over his brother to help stave off the shock that was threatening.

Sam had the driver's door open before he realized that Cas wasn't moving.

"You coming?"

"No. It is too dangerous. We must split up for now." The sound of wings was all that Sam was left with. And a soft snore from his brother in the back seat.

The drive to Bobby's was a long one for Sam. Dean was out of it, but Ellen and Jo's presence weighed heavily on him. In a way, Sam was glad of the time to mourn them.

Ellen had accepted him at a time when he really needed it. She hadn't freaked out upon learning of his visions. She'd been supportive and almost like the mother he'd never known. She'd helped him and protected him from the other hunters. She and the Roadhouse had represented at least a potential community for he and Dean to be a part of. A community of hunters that neither had really been aware of. Sam had always yearned to be a part of something larger. At first, he'd hoped that community would be a part of the "normal" world, but after Dad died and he'd learned that he was the anti-thesis of normal himself, the Roadhouse had still offered them sanctuary, or at least, Ellen had. Jo had forgiven him so much after Meg had possessed him. He'd never had a chance to make that up to her. Both Ellen and Jo had refused to blame him for breaking the final seal. They'd stood by him. And in the end, he'd been forced to leave them, to sacrifice them, so they could all serve the greater cause.

Sam's eyes were bloodshot by the time he reached the salvage yard, and it wasn't from the strain of driving through the night.

SNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSN

Dean groaned as he came back to consciousness. It wasn't a place he really wanted to be. Everything hurt. Inside and out. Blinking to clear the fog covering his eyes, he cautiously turned his head. It was every bit as bad as he had anticipated. He quickly shut his eyes against the light stabbing through his brain. He licked dry lips trying to work up enough spit to make a coherent sound and suddenly a glass of water was thrust into his hand.

Grunting his thanks, he was surprised to hear Bobby's voice say welcome and not Sam's. He forced his eyes open and blinked stupidly.

"How'd I get here?" he managed to croak out after taking a tentative sip or two of water and handing back the glass.

"Usual way, ya idjit. Your brother drove you here and then carried your sorry ass in. You don't remember?"

"Nuh uh," Dean grunted.

"Lucky you. You puked all over my hall and then refused to go any further than this sorry-assed couch. What is it with you and your brother and this couch?" Bobby shook his head.

"Where's Sam?"

Bobby just inclined his head. Following the cue, Dean saw his brother asleep on the floor, not far away.

"Cas?"

"Not here. Think you could keep down some ibuprofen?"

"It's a chance I'm willing to take."

Bobby handed the pills to Dean with some more water. Grimacing, Dean closed his eyes and willed his stomach to settle down.

"Did… did Sam tell you?" Dean opened his eyes but kept them cast away.

"Yeah, boy, he did." Bobby's voice was gruff, laced with emotion.

"I can't stop it, Bobby. Everyone dies. And it's all sliding toward Detroit." Bobby barely heard the last words, Dean's voice was so low and his words ground out.

"Don't you do that. Don't you give up," Bobby admonished, reaching out to grasp the younger man's uninjured shoulder.

Squeezing his eyes shut, Dean grimaced and pressed his lips tightly together, trying unsuccessfully to get a grip on his emotions. He knew he had a concussion and judging by the size of the marching band in his head a pretty big one. He was prepared to blame the tears that he couldn't stop on that concussion.

"When's it gonna end, Bobby? People dying, getting hurt for my sorry ass. I'm not worth it."

"You stop it right there, damn you. Don't you do that! Don't you cheapen their sacrifice! They knew you could do this. They sacrificed themselves so that you and your brother could save the world. That was their contribution and don't you dare ever cheapen it! Don't you disrespect their choice!" Bobby pitched his voice low so as not to wake Sam, but he might as well have been shouting at Dean.

Bobby rolled away from the couch and Dean watched him in stunned silence, his tears forgotten.

"I…I'm sorry, Bobby. You're right. This can't be about me. It needs to be about them. About making their deaths mean something…"

"You idjit! You still don't get it! Their death does have meaning. Their sacrifice has meaning. You don't have to do anything to give it that. Except go on. Do you understand?"

"Yes sir." Dean tried to sit a little straighter in the face of Bobby's command.

"OK then. Get some sleep."

"Ok," Dean agreed and squirmed to get more comfortable. "Thanks, Bobby."

Bobby grunted in response and Dean heard him wheel his way out of the room, shutting off the lights as he went.

But sleep wouldn't come, and Dean lay there thinking of the two women he'd lost from his life. Both had had faith in him, confidence in his ability to do the right thing, to save the world. A confidence he couldn't find within himself at that moment. Ellen had been almost like the mother he remembered. She'd taken them in; she'd kicked their asses when they needed it. She'd believed in them. She'd believed in him. He marvelled again that she'd had faith in his ability to lead. In many ways, Dean was closer to Ellen, but he ached for Jo. For the missed opportunities, for the hunter she had become, for the hunter and woman she would never have the chance to mature into, and who he'd only just had the ability to see. He'd been blind to what was right in front of him. Denying it hadn't saved her. He couldn't stop the tears then. The sobs that wracked his body manifested his mental pain physically. He struggled to control himself before he woke Sam.

Suddenly, one large hand snaked onto his chest, fisting into his shirt over his heart. Sam's forehead rested partially on his forearm and partially on the couch – it was enough contact for Dean to feel the sobs that were ripping through his brother. Neither was able to comfort the other, yet strangely sharing the moment was oddly comforting in its own way.

Eventually, the two brothers drifted towards sleep. Pain and exhaustion taking their toll. Neither heard the flutter of wings, but both settled a bit more peacefully.

Cas observed them quietly in the darkened room, just tinged by the first tendrils of dawn. He didn't have the access he'd once had, either physically or through official channels, but he still had a few stalwart friends. Friends who had made sure that two more souls had made it safely home.

And now Cas had verified that his charges were safely home here as well…


A/N: I am fully aware that I suck at replying to reviews, and yet I am hoping you leave one and let me know what you think of this. This episode would not leave be alone. I'm not sure this says what I wanted to say. RL has me pinned again, so of course I worked all day on this instead of the 2 20 page papers I have due or my law licensing papers…. Or the marking… or …. Well, you get the picture..