AUTHOR'S NOTE:
Winchester Gospel Excerpts are in italics.
Crowley read and read, without the need to sleep or eat nothing got in his way. He read in the throne room, he read in his private quarters, and when an advisor requested a meeting, Crowley read through that too. The only thing he ever said to the demon was "cancel the rest of my appointments for the next week. I'm busy." Crowley was on the one hundred and fourth and final book in four days.
"Three days later, another car rolled off that same line. No one gave two craps about her. But they should have. Because this 1967 Chevrolet Impala would turn out to be the most important object in pretty much the whole universe…"
He'd read about the boy's childhood, Dean meeting Sam at Harvard, Dean's first love Cassie, how John Winchester was a total dick (Crowley made a mental note to add more torture to his sentence), and how Azazel had ruined their lives. He was gaining a newfound respect for the brothers.
"Endings are hard. Any chapped-ass monkey with a keyboard can poop out a beginning, but endings are try to tie up every loose end, but you never can. The fans are always gonna bitch. There's always gonna be holes, and since it's the ending, it's all supposed to add up to something. I'm telling you, they're a raging pain in the ass.
That same '67 Impala that reminded Sam who he was, now races down a dark and wet street going nowhere particular - reminding Dean that he has to choose what to do with the rest of his life.
'What are you gonna do now?' Dean asks Castiel, in a gruff voice.
'Return to heaven, I suppose.'
'Heaven?'
"Well, we all know how that worked out, don't we feathers?" Crowley asked aloud. He glanced up and saw that a servant had been cleaning the throne room. "Don't you know it's rude to stare?" Crowley asked with more snark than necessary but then went back to the book.
"...This is the last Dean and Bobby will see of each other for a very long time. And, for the record, at this point next week, Bobby will be hunting a rugaru outside of Dayton. But not Dean. Dean didn't want Cas to save him. Every part of him, every fiber he's got wants to die or find a way to bring Sam back. But he isn't gonna do either. Because he made a promise.
So he knocks on a wood and glass door in a small suburb and watches as a woman with long chaotic black hair answers the door. She stares at him, surprised he's alive. With a breaking voice, Dean says, "Hey, Lisa." and she says "Oh, thank God."
Lisa asks if he's alright, and Dean nods but says "yeah, uh, if it's not too late… I think I'd like to take you up on that beer.
Lisa smiles and says "It's never too late."
Dean hugs her, and as Lisa shushes him and tells him that everything is going to be okay, Dean starts to believe it.
So, what's it all add up to? It's hard to say. But me, I'd say this was a test… for Sam and Dean. And I think they did all right. Up against good, evil, angels, devils, destiny, and God Himself. They made their own choice. They chose family. And, well… isn't that kind of the whole point?
THE END
No doubt - endings are hard. But then again, nothing ever really ends, does it?
The King of Hell had the last Supernatural book sitting in his lap. His back was stiff and his arm sore, he'd been sitting there for almost twenty hours after turning the final page of the series. He sat back and had his eyes turned towards the floor, though they were glassy and not really looking anywhere.
"Crowley?" said a deep, rumbling voice. When did he get here?
"Assbutt." Crowley said quietly, "You know," he continued as Castiel took in the state of the King, tilting his head slightly as if the changed angle might assist his understanding, "You really ought to read these."
