A/N: Please let me know if there are any punctuation/spelling errors. I didn't see any but I might have missed some. This took me 6 hours to write. Holy Chuck. Enjoy!
DISCLAIMER: I do not own the characters of Supernatural, nor the lyrics to any Kansas song.
Bobby cleared his throat. Damn, this wasn't going to be pretty.
"Alright," he started. "Wouldja shut your damn mouths? Thank you. As you know, we're gathered here for not only a momentous occasion, but also a memorable one." He cleared his throat. "Now, it was nine years ago that Dean and Sam got into a car accident one night while on a bridge in Jericho, California. I was asleep when I had got the news, and I came rushing to the hospital to see if the damned idjits were still alive." Bobby nodded. "And they were. But not like what I had hoped. They both had fallen into comas, deep ones. I thought for the worst. And then, a miracle happened. They both woke up, Sam first, then Dean.
"I was relieved. But, something was a bit…off about the boys. They wouldn't look in any mirrors; they wouldn't stop talking about their dad; whom you all know died in the fire with their mother when they were younger. It was…hard to watch. I thought the crash had done something to their brains. The doctors agreed with me, and had them moved to the psychiatric ward. They both started talking about Sam being in college, and guns and…ghosts." Bobby exhaled sharply. "Then, without warning, they just…went back into the coma. Fell asleep, stayed asleep. Damn, it was as if they'd never woken up!"
Bobby stopped and squinted in his mirror. Were those…?
God damn it.
He wiped the tears from his eyes. He knew that this wasn't going to be easy. For nine years, he knew…
"Hey, Ellen, how're they doin' today?"
Ellen looked up from her paperwork and sighed. "Same as always, Bobby."
Bobby sighs, and Ellen puts a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "You okay today, Bobby?"
"Yeah, oh fine." He looks at her and pats her hand before entering the room where Sam and Dean are sleeping. Sam, Dean, and someone else…
"Oh, Dr. Milligan, I didn't know you were in here here."
The doctor smiled. "Well, they're my patients, Mr. Singer," he said as he wrote on his clipboard. "I have to be in here sometimes."
"Boy, I told you to call me Bobby. You're like family, no need for all that 'Mister' crap."
Dr. Milligan nodded. "Five years and you'd think that I'd be used to it by now."
"Yep," Bobby agreed. "Five years."
The doctor offered a chair, and Bobby accepted. They sat in silence for a moment.
"So…when are you going to do it?" Dr. Milligan asked.
Bobby's head popped up. "What?"
The doctor smirked. "In all of the few years that I've been working in hospitals, you see a pattern in what people are thinking."
"Well if you think-"
"Bobby," the doctor said softly.
Bobby stared the doctor in the face. "I- I've already been rehearsing a speech. So I guess…not long now."
Dr. Milligan nodded and sighed. "Five years."
There was a knock at the door. One of the nurses had entered, his gaze fixed on the two beds holding the silent Winchesters. He then turned and jumped when he saw the two other men seated by the window.
"I hope I'm not interrupting," the nurse said.
"Nope," Bobby answered. "Take a seat Jimmy; you look like you need one."
Jimmy mumbled a thank you and sat heavily in the spare chair.
"On night-watch again?" Dr. Milligan asked.
"Yes, I'm quite tired."
"You workin' yourself too hard, boy. Every day I come up here, and every time I see you, you look bone-tired."
"Jimmy works hard," Dr. Milligan agreed. "He's been volunteering for night-watch ever since he transferred here."
"If I remember correctly, you both came here the same year, right?" Bobby asked.
"From separate hospitals, yes."
Bobby nodded, and kicked Jimmy softly to wake him up. "Damn boy, do you even go to sleep?"
Jimmy shook his head lethargically.
"Go home, then. Get sleep. You look like someone ran you over with a car, for chrissake."
Jimmy yawned and shook his head. "I will be fine."
Dr. Milligan looked from the nurse to the visitor, and asked: "Hey, Jimmy. Remember the first day you got assigned to Dean and Sam?"
Jimmy smiled. "Yes. That is not a day you can't easily forget."
Bobby smirked. "Damn, even I remember that day. Dean almost stabbed you in the chest with a pencil."
"I was only checking his vitals," Jimmy said. "And suddenly, he woke up with my pencil in his hand. How that even happened I don't remember."
"Just be lucky he stabbed you with the eraser," Dr. Milligan added.
"And even then," Bobby said, "you still stayed with the boys. After all that had happened in the years before you arrived…"
"Yes," Jimmy said. "I had heard the stories. But, they are actually good men."
"I also remember you spending a lot of time with Dean," Dr. Milligan commented. "He'd talk to you about one crazy thing or the other."
"Angels," Bobby said. "He talked a lot about angels."
Jimmy turned red.
"Also, I remember him calling you…your first name."
"He said he liked it better than 'Jimmy,'" Jimmy said.
"Cas, wasn't it?" Dr. Milligan asked.
"Yes. Castiel Novak."
"Wait, how'd you get 'Jimmy' from Castiel?"
"James is my middle name."
Bobby hummed and tapped his armrest. "They both seemed calmer when you both arrived."
Dr. Milligan smiled. "You know what? Bobby's right."
Jimmy smiled, and the room was once again filled with a steady silence.
"I have heard rumors, Bobby," Jimmy suddenly said.
Bobby looked up. "Does the whole goddamn hospital know?"
Jimmy nodded. Bobby sighed. "Soon. Very soon."
The nurse sighed. "I understand that you want to do the right thing. I will not talk you out of it. They've been in pain so long..." Jimmy turned and stared longingly at the occupied beds. "It will be good for them to finally have peace."
Bobby sighed deeply. "Took the words right out of my mouth."
A week later, Bobby was in front of his mirror again. He put down the whiskey in his hand and looked down at the paper that he had written his speech on. He stared at it, long and hard, until his vision blurred and tears fell on the page. He balled the paper up and threw it across the room, making it land right next to the trash can.
I can't do it, he thought, cradling his head in his hands. I can't do this again. Karen, Rufus, John…not my boys. I can't do this to my boys. Bobby looked up to the ceiling. "God, angels, whatever the hell's out there. Please, just give 'em back. I can't kill my boys!" Tears receded from his eyes to his hairline. "Give me…a sign. Hell, give me somethin', damn it!"
He waited for the roof to open up.
He waited for lightning to strike him.
He waited for an earthquake.
He waited for anything.
None of these things happened. The air was cool, the fan in the corner whirring on as Bobby stared at the ceiling for the sign that wouldn't come. Memories came flooding to him.
That night, when he rushed to the hospital after a nurse called in about the accident, he saw the boys bloodied and scared, black-eyed and unresponsive. He imagined the worse. Staying in the boys' room for the whole week, not even once going home.
The first time they woke up, with both of them talking about the same thing as if they were having the same dreams, or in another reality.
When Dean almost stabbed Jimmy in the chest, and Dean and Jimmy shared a look that Bobby thought only newlyweds could share.
Bobby laughed when he remembered Sam and Dean meeting Charlie. They immediately treated her like a little sister, signing her arm and leg cast that she said she got from a mo-pad accident.
And then when Dean broke the wings off the little angel statue that Jimmy had gotten for him last year. Dean had woken up alone that time, with Sam still in the coma. Dean had cried, if Bobby remembered correctly. To this day, Bobby still doesn't know if Dean was crying over the broken statue, or Sam not waking up with him.
Bobby sighed and downed the rest of his whiskey, ignoring the burn in his throat as the alcohol passed through. He slammed the bottle down on his desk, and looked out the window. There, in the midst of old junk-cars and parts, was the black Impala. Bobby had saved it for Dean to fix when he woke up and was able to get out of the hospital. A time that would never seem to happen again.
It was at this time that Bobby remembered when the boys were younger. How Dean's hard face would break and smile when Bobby taught him how to play ball. Or Sam's smile when Dean did something funny to make him forget his nightmares. Or when Bobby checked in on the boys one night, and found Dean sleeping in Sam's bed, dried tears on Sam's face. His boys….
Bobby shook his head and stood up. He walked to his trash can and picked up the discarded paper balls, smoothing them out slowly.
God damn signs…
It was time. Bobby called all the people he knew would actually come. It was a surprisingly short list. The day was hot and sunny. It's not decent, Bobby thought, for a person's death to be on such a happy day…
While the foster parent got ready for this day, someone else was speaking to the boys…
Jimmy stood in between the two beds, looking from Dean, to Sam, to Dean again. There were no tears in his eyes, and his voice was not tired.
"You have fought well," the nurse stated. "Both of you have far exceeded expectations that had been placed upon you…but you didn't care about other people's expectations, did you?" Jimmy smirked.
"Samuel Winchester," Jimmy said, turning towards Sam. "Lucifer's vessel. It was not easy for you these past years. Your mother fired upon your nursery ceiling, drinking the blood of demons, having to chose between a normal life and the hunting business." Jimmy nodded. "And you chose your brother, over anything else. You have fallen, but you have also risen. You will be remembered.
"Dean Winchester," he turned towards Dean. "You were intended to be Michael's vessel, but instead your youngest brother took your place. You have followed in your father's footsteps, becoming a hunter even at a young age. Taking orders from a man blinded by revenge of the death of his beloved wife. You took care of your younger sibling when your father couldn't; a natural protector." Jimmy hesitated. "Who did not think he could be saved."
Jimmy inhaled. "Dean, Sam. The past five years that I have known you, you both have been my friends…and my family. You have protected me when I was weak, and I have depended on you greatly at times." Jimmy reached behind his back involuntarily. "Yes, many times. It is now time for me to return the favor." He leaned and softly brushed Sam's hair off his forehead. "To my family." Jimmy placed his hand on the side of Dean's face. "May your journey be a safe one," Jimmy whispered as he removed his hand.
There was a knock at the door, and Jimmy quickly stood erect as Bobby entered the room.
"Jimmy," Bobby said.
"I was just…" Jimmy said, "…saying goodbye." He took one last look at the beds as made his way toward the door.
"Well hold on!" Bobby said as Jimmy past him. "Aren't you staying for the ceremony?"
Jimmy turned and gazed directly into Bobby's eyes. "I would, but I can't. I have to go meet them." And before Bobby could respond, Jimmy walked off.
Not long after Bobby arrived did everyone else start to show up. Charlie hobbled in on a leg brace, "Supposed to be off by next week!" she had said. Dr. Milligan arrived, and Bobby immediately hugged him. Garth -who had met the boys while he had an internship at the hospital - arrived, and Bobby reluctantly hugged him too. Dr. Milligan informed Bobby that a few men and a woman who had met Dean and Sam in the psych ward - and are still there – send their condolences.
Everyone was there, it was time.
Bobby cleared his throat. Damn, this was going to be hard. He started off with going from before the car accident, how Dean always loved his cars, and Sam had a thing for computers. How the boys were both very close after their parents died, and how Bobby took them in.
Then, he started explaining what happened after the car accident. When the boys started going insane:
The demons,
The ghosts,
Vampires,
Werewolves,
God,
Lucifer and Michael,
The Apocalypse,
Some guy named Dick (there were a few snickers at this),
A person named Crowley,
And finally, the end of the world.
"Now, the boys are completely off their rockers. But," Bobby cleared his throat. "They're my sons. Two boys, who hadn't grown up in the best of conditions, but still managed to live this long." Bobby put the paper down. "Now, after nine years, it's time for them to finally have peace." He nodded his head in conclusion. Everyone applauded, and wiped tears from their eyes.
Dr. Milligan stepped forward and placed a hand on Bobby's shoulder. Bobby wiped his tears.
"Are you ready?"
"Wait." Bobby came forward and kissed each boy on the forehead. He looked from one face to the other, absorbing what they looked like, as if as soon as the doctor pulled the plug, he would forget their faces. He felt a lump in his throat, and Bobby stood back. "Alright. I'm ready."
Dr. Milligan was about to pull when:
"No," Bobby said. "Get another nurse in here or somethin'." He looked at everyone. "At the same time."
Carry on my wayward son…
Dr. Milligan nodded and called Ellen in the room. She hugged Bobby, and he almost didn't let go.
"It's okay," she said, hiding behind her own tears. "They'll be in a better place."
There'll be peace when you are done…
When Bobby did let go, she nodded to the doctor.
Lay your weary head to rest…
"On three," Dr. Milligan said. "One."
Thu-thump.
"Two."
Thu-thump.
The doctor hesitated. "…three."
Don't you cry no more.
Beep…Beep…Beep…Beeeeeeeeeeeeeee…
Bobby looked away. They're gone. My boys are gone…
Ellen quickly stood and hugged Bobby. Charlie cried into Garth's shoulder while tears streamed down his face.
"November 2," Dr. Milligan called. "Time of death - 10:41am."
Outside the room, the hospital seemed to be going on with life as if nothing had happened.
"Room 348, Ms. Stevens needs more water."
"Dr. Hathaway, you're needed in intensive care."
"Has anyone seen Jimmy?"
"We need more nurses in here!"
"Adam, we need you."
"I'll be right there." Dr. Milligan turned toward Bobby and handed him his card. "If you need anything, just call me."
"You've been sayin' that for years," Bobby said half-heartedly.
"Because I mean it." He gave one last hug to Bobby and walked away. Bobby looked at the card and put it in his pocket. He watched the doctor go off to another patient. As soon as he was out of sight, Bobby went back into the boys' room. He looked down at their lifeless bodies lying on the blue sheeting. He looked from one boy to the other, and smirked as a tear fell from his eye.
"Damn idjits."
Dean slowly opened his eyes. He was lying on grass, too high for his liking. Above him, a blue sky and a bright sun that made everything look soft. Dean stood up and looked around. All he saw, as far as he could, was grass, and the occasional flower.
"Hello?" he yelled. "Anyone here?"
"Hello, Dean."
Dean turned around, and smiled when he saw Cas and Sam standing a few meters away from him, practically beaming. He walked toward them. "So, uh, where are we?"
"Heaven, Dean," Sam said.
Dean stopped a foot away from them. "You mean we finally…?"
"Yep."
Dean looked around, still amazed. "Well, to tell you the truth, I thought I was going the other direction." Dean turned to look at Cas, who then stepped forward and wrapped his arms around Dean. Dean froze. "Uh…Cas?" Cas pulled back, and Dean's eyes widened as he saw tears coming from Cas's eyes.
"I watched over you," Cas said.
Dean smiled and laughed in disbelief. "Ah, Cas!"
Cas moved back and Sam embraced his older sibling, and they both found that there were all crying. They all laughed, and finally, they were all genuinely happy.
"Well, this is it," Dean said. "Team Free Will made it to heaven at last."