A/N: I finally broke down and decided to write an endverse fic set in my Sun Rise trilogy. I lost all my progress on the next chapter (it was replaced by "#." Not joking) so it's gonna take a while. Enjoy!

One phone call changes everything. It was a proven fact. A phone call was what Aline got when Damian had crashed his car and he'd ended up in the hospital.

One. Single. Call.

I'm gonna say yes. We'll be right there. Don't you dare do it! Please!

Aline and Dean never liked talking about the last phone call they'd gotten before the world went to hell. It became one of the many unspoken rules when talking with the two of them, a taboo subject.

A week after the call, the Croatoan virus struck, spreading across the planet like wildfire as the months went by. Normal people learned how to deal with the virus the hard way. Most hunters knew. Bobby tried asking about the call, about him (another unspoken rule: never mention his name). Dean and Aline just looked at the ground. Dean's jaw was clenched, Aline's blue eyes filled with unshed tears, and their hands were locked together as if they were afraid something would happen to the other.

Week two, demons started coming after Dean, Aline, Bobby, and Castiel. The four of them left Bobby's house behind in silence, no music playing or talking. Complete silence. Cas didn't even need to ask. He knew.

Week four brought imps, other demons, and a solar eclipse. Aline didn't have enough energy to walk. So, whenever they had to, Dean carried her, his hands holding onto her tightly. Cas and Bobby shared a look whenever that happened.

Week eight was when Chuck joined them. He asked about him. Dean shoved him into a wall and glared while Aline growled, their lips curling in a snarl as Dean barked out, "Don't you dare."

Week fourteen, they found a larger group and formed a camp, Dean becoming the de-facto leader with Aline as his second-in-command. Cas's grace began burning out. The hunt for the Colt began.

Week twenty, Dean began shouting yes to Michael into the nighttime sky while Aline yelled at her mother and uncles.

Week thirty. ("...I can't do it." "We have to." "Just do it. Don't be an idjit, Lin. You know it has to be done." "...I—" "I know. Take care of yourselves." BANG.)

Six months. ("Why'd you jump in front of me like that?" "I didn't wanna lose you!" "Bullshit!" "It's the truth! You'd do the same thing! Don't deny it!" "Why?" "'Cause I fucking love you, dumbass!" "...I love you, too.")

Seven months. ("It's gone." "What's gone, Cas?" "My grace.")

Eight months. ("Guess you're keepin' me, huh?" "Course. You're the keeper to my bludger." "Shut up, Winchester." "You're one now, too." "And I wouldn't change it for anything, but your puns are still terrible.")

Eleven months. (Back to back missions. No more holding back. No more Mr. & Mrs. Nice Guy.)

One year. (Dean was staring into the familiar yet so unfamiliar eyes of the Devil. He could feel Lucifer's hand on his throat, but he didn't care. His eyes moved to look at her. She was lying motionless on the ground, her head turned at an awkward angle and her eyes staring at nothing. That was the last thing he saw. )

"Whatever choices you make, whatever details you alter, we will always end up - here."