Not for the first time Sam wondered if it was still worth it, if they shouldn't batten down the bunker and take off.
Leave the world behind, go find a cabin in the woods or by a lone warm beach.
What were he and Dean doing still hunting?
:
His brother had always declared they'd be killed by tooth or claw, but leaving aside the metaphysical conundrum of them both having kicked the bucket multiple times, it looked as if they were set to be hunters until their arms could no longer lift a shovel or fire a gun!
Sam's practical mindset postulated that they should be planning for their old-age, cos it seemed there was serious danger of them actually reaching it and proving Dean's theory wrong.
:
To Sam the idea wasn't all that inviting.
It was one thing to grow old gracefully, but he and Dean had been thrown around and taken punches worse than those rained down on heavyweight boxers. All of which didn't bode well for a healthy old age.
:
He'd snagged a couple of brochures from an old folk's home they'd resolved a job in, time back.
The image of Eileen filled his mind causing a smile to curve his lips. An instant bond had formed between himself and the deaf hunter.
He wondered where she might be now, hoping she was safe, or even better had found some serenity after taking out the banshee, and perhaps having decided like Jesse and Cèsar, that she wanted a life away from hunting and revenge..
:
Pushing back the chair, he made his way to the kitchen.
He supposed he should broach his thoughts to Dean, get his input, though he was sure Dean would give his standard response.
"We'll die before we have to worry about getting to old to hunt!"
:
:
He found his brother stuffing his mouth with one of the three pies he'd brought home yesterday, crumbs decorating the table top like a scattering of snow.
"Wow, Dean! Have you been eating that pie or sparring with it?"
"What? A guy can't enjoy his food without prissy princesses making unwanted observations."
Sam blew out a puff of air.
"Unwanted observations! Dude! Do you really have to stuff pie into your mouth as if it's the last time you'll ever taste it?"
Dean waved a finger at him. "It might well be, Sammy. We could walk out that door and never eat again."
:
Sam rolled his eyes, but what Dean had said wasn't too far from the things he'd been thinking about.
"What if that did happen, Dean? We leave the bunker to deal with a ghost and never come back? Are we ready for that?"
Dean sighed around his mouthful of pie. "Dude! Really! Now? We leave the bunker and never know whether we'll ever return, hundreds of times. Why are you even bringing this up?"
"I know, but thing is we're not getting any younger. Soon you'll be hitting forty, Dean. For how long are we gonna be able to live this life?"
:
Shrugging, it seemed the older man was about to brush off Sam's worries, when to his little brother's surprise a thoughtful expression appeared on his face.
"You know , Sammy. Maybe you're right to bring this up. I've always been a guy who lives for the moment, never really planned for the future, cos, dude, I never even thought we'd even get this far."
:
Just as Sam was tempted into believing Dean was giving his words some serious consideration, his brother winked.
"The bunker has everything we need, little brother. If we get too old to hunt, we buy a couple of old guy chairs and watch TV. Don't see why we gotta worry. "
:
"So we just keep going until one or both of us ends up arthritic and slow, ripe for a monster to take us out?"
"That's the only way it's ever gonna end, Sammy. Can you honestly imagine us changing our life-style and waiting it out in a couple of deck-chairs by the sea?"
Though it was on the tip of Sam's tongue to answer 'yes', he held back.
:
In all honesty, he had to admit he'd probably end up bored out of his mind after a few days of lounging around.
He'd become addicted to the adrenaline bursts and the thrill of researching the correct lore to fuel a successful hunt.
Maybe Dean was right, keep on going until their bodies forced them to stop.
:
Sam was so immersed in his musing that he didn't notice Dean's eyes on him. If he'd been able to read his brother's mind, he'd have been surprised at the sorrow there.
Dean had always wanted more for his little brother, but time and time again, any deviation from the hunting path had inevitably led to disaster.
It's not that Dean didn't give any thought to the future, but he knew there would never be a time when they could enjoy just being together. They were in too deep; had been through too much to ever get out.
Dean didn't believe in any religion, not before and certainly not after meeting God himself, but on the off chance that reincarnation existed, then that might be the only way he and Sam would ever get the apple-pie life they'd never had.
Just then the memory of the Djinn world came to mind.
.
There they'd lived that life, yet Dean had abandoned it. Mainly yes..., because it was only an illusion, but the true reason had been because he and Sam had never developed the bond they'd enjoyed in the real world.
That bond meant everything to Dean and no life where he and Sam had grown up as mere ordinary siblings could ever be what Dean would desire.
:
Eventually sensing Dean's gaze, Sam met his brother's eyes.
"What? " he asked.
"Nothing, " Dean said, glancing away.
"No, dude. You were staring at me."
"Just thinking it was time you sheared off some of that girlie hair, Sammy. I still don't know why the fuckers always go for your neck and never once yank on that mop, " Dean teased, knowing any hair references always distracted Sam.
This time though Sam didn't take the bait.
:
" Dean."
"Nothing, man. I was just thinking. Whatever happens, doesn't matter in the end. Young or old, when the time comes, we go, just like the rest of humanity."
Sam slid onto the chair next to his brother. "I'm not gonna be left behind, Dean, " he declared, hazel eyes steady and focused on his sibling.
"Me neither, " Dean replied, his gaze a solemn oath.
Sam nodded and cut himself a slice of pie. "I'm glad it's settled then."
The end.