It had been a long time since they had retired from the family business. Of course they still hunted whenever they were needed but as they got older, the next generation of hunters seemed to look for their help less and less. But then nothing could keep Sam and Dean from saving the world, even if they were sixty. Dean had settled down with Cas, who hadn't aged a day since they had first met, and lived next door to Sam. This meant that they were always together, Team Free Will, just like old times.
This all changed after one hunt gone wrong. It was supposed to be a simple salt and burn case, but the ghost seemed to have none of that and long story short the brothers were being rushed to the emergency room on stretchers with serious injuries to their chests. Dean reached his hand out to grasp Sam's just like he did when they were kids to comfort him. Sam stared back at him before coughing up blood. This seemed to send the doctors into a panic and amidst the frenzy Dean saw a flash of a dirty tan coloured trench-coat. The simple sight reassured him, knowing that his angel was by his side.
Dean woke to a beeping sound. When he opened his eyes he was greeted to a familiar pair of bright blue orbs staring back at him. "Hey Cas." He managed to croak, his throat felt like sandpaper and he started coughing, trying to clear it. "Don't Dean; the doctor said you and Sam have to take it easy." At the mention of his little brothers name Dean turned his head despite the pain in his neck to see him. Sam looked like a ghost, his skin was pale and his eyes were closed. For a few moments there was no sound before Sam went into a coughing fit. Dean tried to reach out to his brother but even the simple task of lifting his arm was too painful.
Sam's eyes fluttered open and he blinked a couple of times before turning his head to face him. "D-Dean." Was all he managed to say before coughing again. "I'm here Sammy, don't worry. I'm not leaving you." Dean's vision began to get blurred by the water in his eyes and he vaguely noticed Cas sitting on his bed holding his palm in his hand. A small grin appeared on Sam's face and it reminded Dean of the times when it was the two of them against the world, saving people, hunting things, driving around in the impala with music blaring too loud. That small grin brought Dean back to the past when they saved the world every day. "Don't call me Sammy; he's a chubby twelve year old kid. It's Sam." Dean let out a laugh even though it hurt he couldn't hold it back. "You'll always be a chubby twelve year old kid to me."
Sam chuckled before smiling back at Dean. His breathing slowed and he looked tired. He seemed to struggle to get out his next words.
"Bitch."
Tears started streaming down Deans cheeks and he didn't bother wipe them away. He knew the meaning behind those words, words which to other people would just seem like an insult. He knew what Sam was trying to say. So he replied in the only way he could.
"Jerk."
Sam let out one last laugh before his breathing stopped altogether and his normally bright eyes closed for the last time. Dean let out a heart wrenching sob and cursed at no one in particular because he couldn't hold his baby brother. He felt Cas squeeze his hand and he turned to face his angel. He could feel the last of his strength fading and black dots swam across his vision. But for once he wasn't afraid of what would happen next. His breath hitched and he started having a coughing fit. Once the coughing stopped he looked Cas in the eyes and just managed to get out,
" I love you."
His vision started to go and all he could make out were two brilliant blue eyes and a hand holding his tightly. The last thing he heard before everything went white was,
"I love you too Dean. I'll see you soon."
When Dean opened his eyes he was greeted by a familiar, gruff voice. "Glad you two idjits could make it. I was beginning to think you went down instead of up." Dean sat up quickly and looked around. The first thing he noticed was Cas sitting beside him on the floor with a large grin on his face. He looked to his left and saw someone he didn't think he would see for a long time. He was just the way Dean remembered him, right down to the beard and dirty baseball cap. "Bobby? Is that really you?" He didn't bother to hide the joy from his voice as he stood up to hug the man. "It's good to see you boy, though I was hoping you'd last a bit longer." Dean smiled sheepishly before looking at his surroundings. He was in the Roadhouse and smiling back at him were Jo and Ellen, looking just like they did when they first met. He wiped the tears of happiness from his eyes and hugged the both of them.
"Hey, no hug for me?"
Dean turned at the sound of his favourite voice. Standing in front of him was Sam, except instead of lines under his eyes there was just perfect skin untouched by time, and instead of grey hair he had his natural mop of brown hair. He practically jumped at his brother and pulled him into a tight hug. After releasing him he looked Sam up and down in disbelief. "I know I look great, you don't look half bad yourself." Dean looked down and realised he was wearing his old leather jacket. He looked at his reflection in the window and realised that he looked thirty again. As he ran a hand through his hair he noticed something he didn't think he would ever see again. "Baby?" a huge childish grin spread across his face at the sight of the impala.
Dean looked back around the room at the all of the smiling faces. Tears of joy rolled down his cheeks and when his eyes reached Sam he knew that they were thinking the same thing:
They had finally made it. They were home.
