A/N: Sorry, sorry, sorry about the delay, this is the sixth version of this chapter I wrote and the first one I liked enough to post. It's not that good… sorry about that, too.

Checked with Vista, remaining errors are mine.

Disclaimer: Still not mine.

He watched them from the corridor; they were sitting at the kitchen table, again. Dean knew that they were searching for a way to save him and in one way that filled him with something he hadn't felt in a very long time. He felt warm, maybe loved, maybe even at home. But the other side of the coin was that it was dangerous. The crossroad demon had made it more than clear, weasel out and your brother drops dead. And Dean had no idea where "weasel out" would start, sure they were far from breaking the deal, but where was the line they shouldn't cross?

Dean watched as Sam slammed his fist onto the table in frustration and how Ellen put a comforting hand on his forearm. Next to Ellen sat Jo, she looked tired, and Dean felt ashamed. Ever since the deal was made he'd thought a lot about Jo, if or not he should tell her, if she had a right to know, or if she had a right to live a life untroubled by this. He liked her and maybe more, but even before he had sold his soul, he'd thought that they would never end up as a couple. Sammy was his responsibility, keeping him save, keeping him on the right side; there was no time for romance. Picking up a girl in a bar once in a while had to be enough, at least until Sam was saved, and Dean couldn't tell how long that would take. So he'd told himself that Jo deserved more, that a girl like she would find someone better. But sometimes he wondered if he was letting go something better then he would ever find again.

She pushed her hair out of her face, and Dean longed to touch it, do it for her so badly that his hand moved unconsciously. He sighed, as much as he wanted to be close to her, it wasn't fair to put that on her shoulders. Dean knew that giving in into an affair, would help him, would create a memory he could recall and hold onto until hell would take the memory of being human once from him. But it would also be a memory that would haunt Jo, would remind her until the day she died and probably longer that she'd lost him, that he had moved on to a place worse than this. He knew that she would morn him, but he also wanted her ready to move on one day. Dean cast one last glance at her, than turned away and walked down the corridor towards the bar and front door. He wished Sam would have never taken him here. Just the two of them on the road till the end that was what Dean had wished for. He'd never imagined that he would spend the last days of his life surrounded by the people he loved. Yes, Dean Winchester loved people; he loved his brother, had loved him ever since that evening his mother had called him over to the sofa and made him touch her swollen belly so he could feel the baby inside move. He also loved Bobby, he was like a second father to him, and Ellen had become something close to a second mother to him over the last two years. Ash, well he was pretty sure that love was the wrong word here because Ash was a very strange freak even for a Winchester, but he'd come to trust him, and seeing that Ash tried as hard as everyone else to save him, gave Dean the urge to buy him a present for next Christmas, if there would be a next Christmas for him. He didn't knew Sarah that well to say that he loved her, but she was good for his brother, and she was Dean's biggest hope when it came to "who will save Sam after I'm gone." Jo? Yes, he loved her, in a way that made him want to call her Joanna and it scared him. He'd thought that he'd once loved Cassie, but that was before he'd crossed paths with

Jo. He'd also thought that he could stay away from those feelings, especially after he'd made his deal, simply by staying away physically; it had worked more or less until his brother had dragged him back to the Roadhouse. Now all he wanted was to talk to her, tell her about his feelings, make sure that she would be okay when he was gone, but he had no idea how to manage that. He'd rather spend his last days killing some fugly monsters, monsters he knew, but this was totally alien to him.

It was a humid evening and Dean wondered if the thunderstorms that had lit the last nights where an omen of what was coming. Days to go. There was thunder in the distance, low and barely audible it almost sounded like a growl. He walked into the meadow that stretched behind the roadhouse. When he'd been younger they had sometimes spend the day at places like this. When ever his father had finished a job, but was in trouble with the local police he'd grabbed his sons from the motel and they had been on the road for hours until he'd stopped in the middle of nowhere and had surrendered to sleep. Dean had taken Sam outside, so that John could sleep undisturbed and they had played hide and seek between trees or they had sat in the middle of a meadow and Dean had taught his little brother names of flowers, birds, butterflies and bugs. Names his mother had told him, when she'd taken him to the park the summer before Sam had been born.

"Mom? Are butterflies fairies?"

"Can you keep a secret honey? My Granny told me once that butterflies are…"

"Butterflies are souls, caught in purgatory not pure enough to enter heaven right now, but to good to go down to hell, too."

Dean turned around started and saw a petite, dark haired, familiar girl standing there; it took him some seconds to realize who she was.

"You're dead."

Her laughter was warm, nothing creepy in it at all.

"I'm sorry, but I thought you would be kind of used to seeing dead people now and then."

"You are a ghost then?"

She smiled again, and stepped towards and then past him.

"More a spirit. Let's take a walk."

She waved her hand to follow him and Dean caught up with her after a few steps.

"What happened, Nancy?"

"That girl showed up. A cute little girl, she was a demon, she blow up the whole station. Everyone died."

Dean nodded.

"I'm sorry."

She turned around and smiled at him.

"Don't be."

There was a pause then Dean asked what had been burning on his tongue ever since her spirit had appeared.

"Why are you here?"

"I was send," she answered and sat down. Her small body almost vanished into the high grass. Dean sat down next to her and watched her picking a daisy.

"By whom?"

She smiled at him again.

"I'm sorry Dean, I can't give away that. Not yet."

Something dawned to him…something rang a bell.

"You're a reaper?"

She shook her head laughing.

"No. I'm not. I'm just a girl who died a bit…uhm…too soon," she paused and seemed to think about something," Tell me Dean, will you regret things?"

He stared at her puzzled.

"Did you?"

She raised her eyebrows.

"I died being a virgin and you ask me that?"

He managed a shy grin.

"Tell me you're not here for that, I'm maybe a bit out of time, but I'm still not into dead chicks."

She blushed; imagine that, a blushing ghost.

"I'm not. But I have to admit, that I maybe would have made a move on you when thing had turned out different. But then, dieing a virgin had his good sides, too."

It was Dean's turn to raise his eyebrows.

"I'm pretty sure you've lost that a while ago, so there's no need for you to know," said Nancy, then there was another pause filled with thinking," She would regret it, you know."

"Who would regret what?"

"That girl. She loves you, you know?"

Dean crossed his arms in front of him, his face suddenly very serious.

"And that's exactly why I'll stay away from her. There's no need to break her heart."

"You know what is ironic, she's fighting for you, more than you're fighting for yourself," answered Nancy sternly but continued softer before he had any chance to response, "anyway, that's not why I'm here. I have an important question, and I need an answer. If you would have known that I would die no matter what, would you have let that demon sacrifice me?"

His answer came fast and without thinking about it.

"No!"

"But it probably would have saved everybody else."

"And I wouldn't be better than those demons. That's the difference, that's maybe the difference that will let them win in the end, but I won't waste an innocent person. And I don't think that the others would have survived anyway. Lillith or her demons would have found them sooner or later, because you all had seen and knew that was out there. That's what I'm sorry about; I should have found ways to keep all of you save."

Nancy just nodded.

"What?" asked Dean.

"I got my answer."

"That's good for you, but…"

"I want you to fight, because you, with the help of your friend, can make it."

"But Sam."

"I probably shouldn't tell you that, but Sam is cursed with demonic blood, right? He's the chosen soldier. Watch out for humans than, and don't fear demons."

Dean thought about it.

"You are saying that demon's can't harm him?"

She shrugged.

"I'm saying that humans can, that you can."

Nancy touched his forehead so quickly that it made him jump, but before he could get farther away the meadow melted before his eyes and his vision became blurred. All that was left was her voice saying softly "Let me show you" and then suddenly he was sitting in a graveyard, in the middle of the night. A cold shiver ran down his spine when he his eyes had adjusted to the sudden darkness and he spotted the headstone in front of him. A headstone with his own name on it. Movement in the darkness caught his trained eyes; but seconds later he recognized the shape and the way the person moved.

"Sammy," he whispered.

Sam was older, maybe four or five years, thinner and paler than he remembered. When he walked past Dean he could see dark shadows under his eyes Sam knelt in front of the headstone, Dean stood up and walked behind the stone to have a better look, he was shocked when he could see tears on his brother's cheek.

"It's over," said Sam with a sad smile," the war is won, but what's the price? Ellen, Bobby, Ash all of them…and Jo…who can blame Sarah for taking the kid and leaving after that. They are save now, I checked on them. She'll go to school this year. She's growing up in a better world now. Sarah will look after her and I think she'll be saver without me around anyway. Who knows if and when the evil will return, and I had to do a lot of evil things to win this war. I'm not proud of it. Maybe there is more, other, work to do, but I'm so tired Dean, and I can do this no more. I understand now why you couldn't fight anymore. I'm so sorry."

Sam still smiled but Dean watched in horror as his little brother raised a gun and put it to his head…

"NOOOO!"

"Dean!"

He realized that he was back on the meadow again, lying flat on his back, Nancy was gone; instead Jo's worried face was hovering over him.

"I've been searching for you!"

Dean shook of the last images of his dream…or what ever it had been and sat up.

"I'm fine."

"I should go and get Bobby or Sam," said Jo and was about to move but Dean grabbed her wrist.

"It's okay."

He stood up and next to her. Jo felt herself shivering when he looked her straight into the eyes. Something had changed into his eyes; she just couldn't put her finger on it. Then he reached for her hand carefully. It was still wrong, it would still hurt once the deal would come due, but maybe it would hurt just as much if they would chose the other way. Dean knew it would, different reasons, same damned pain, and in the end, all they could do was make here and now better.

"Come, walk with me," he said softly.

The thunder was much closer now, but Dean didn't care. Soft rain was falling on the leaves above them, but it wasn't enough to reach their more or less naked bodies.

"Jo?" he asked.

"Uhm?"

"We should go back to the roadhouse soon. If your mom comes out and finds us like this…"

He could feel her smile against his skin.

"You're still afraid of my mom?"

It was his first honest laugh in a long time.

"After all I've seen nothing is as scary as a pissed Ellen Harvelle."

"My father used to say that I'm a lot like her," she whispered innocently against his neck.

He bent down to kiss her but stopped when there was a crack of wood that made both of them jump, followed by a gruff voice.

"I think we're interrupting something."

"What are you talking…oh…," said another softer female voice.

"You?!" asked Dean and reached for his shirt to cover Jo who was, to be honest, covering him.

He held her there with a tight grip, ready to spin them both around to have her protected if needed. Jo tried to turn her head to get a better view, but could only see a young woman in jeans and t-shirt and the left half of a huge muscle packed guy.

"Who are they?"

"Vampires," said Dean and felt Jo tense.

"Mom said there's no such thing."

"It get's better," joked Dean, but his eyes never left the two beasts, "They are good vampires… at least they were when I last met them."

"We still feed on cattle blood," said the girl.

"And it still tastes bad," added the guy.

"What are you doing here, Leonore? And why can't it wait until we are dressed of the occasion?" asked Dean.

Leonore smiled at them.

"We heard about that deal of yours. We've got something that will help you."