And it's the final chapter! Thanks to everyone for reading.

"See, this is what happens when you say, 'goody,'" Dean complained some time later, crouched for protection behind a broad marble headstone. He chanced a glance over at his brother, nearly hidden by the deep midnight shadows engulfing the tree trunk where Sam was similarly sheltered. The darkness shrouded the graveyard, making it impossible to see the creature they'd stirred up.

"So you've said," Sam replied, sticking his head out and pulling it back swiftly as a spray of black acid shot past. The trunk sizzled where the liquid struck. "At least we know what Roger was Hunting when he died."

Dean hefted his shovel, wishing they'd known that Roger had sealed the great serpent deity into his own flesh just before he'd died, keeping the thing trapped as long as his coffin was kept closed. Dean was just grateful that the thing had been disoriented by the flashlights; if it had been able to aim properly, he and Sam would have been toast in those first few moments, furiously scrabbling out of the grave. His gun was still there, barrel glinting in the moonlight, frustratingly out of reach. "Any ideas, Sammy?"

A pregnant pause, then, "Yeah. Distract it, will ya?"

Ho boy. Dean trusted his brother, he really did, but damn it, Sam had better pull through. He tightened his grip on the long wooden handle of his shovel, took a deep breath, and charged.

"Yaaaaaaahhhh!"

Dodging acid sprays, he leapt into the air. He rolled as he hit the ground, scooping up his sawed-off shotgun as he went. He came up already aiming, blowing rock salt at the creature. It hissed, retreated, but then came back, head darting forward. Dean was forced to dodge for cover, sheltering behind yet another headstone as acid squirted by overhead. "It's distracted, Sammy!" he yelled. "If you're gonna do something, now would be a great time!"

Fire flared in the darkness. The creature, rather than retreat from the light, was drawn to it, its great, scaly head cocking to one side as it watched the flickering flames dance on the end of the makeshift torch, one end thrust deep into the ground. The serpent slid forward, into the nimbus of light. With a fierce scream of defiance, Sam attacked it, driving a stake up underneath its scales and into its heart. The thing shrieked an agonized cry and dissolved in a halo of sparks.

Dean emerged from his shelter, cautiously. "What'd you do?" he asked.

Sam was panting. "I can't believe that worked," he huffed.

"Sammy..." Dean warned, and his brother assayed a blitzed grin.

"Just kidding. Mostly. Holly," he pointed at the tree he'd been sheltering behind. "Roger's last entry said he was going after the monster with a silver knife and a holly stake. They found him with a stick in his hand, but no knife - I figured that he'd gotten the knife into the serpent but missed with the holly, so..."

"So you took a chance and nearly got yourself killed."

"And this is new to us how?"

Dean grunted. "Good point. Well. Let's get ol' Rog' back home. Maybe having him back on her land will make his Lady relent a bit on the thunderstorms."

"Maybe." Sam leapt down into the grave and started busily winding a sheet and ropes around the desiccated skeleton, tossing up the ends to his brother before clambering out and helping to raise the body of the last Husker son from his earthly hiding place.

Now

Sam tamped the last of the earth into place on the grave. The headstone seemed to glint a little brighter in the early morning light, gold sunbeams reflecting off the polished marble. The brothers shifted uncomfortably, certain that there was some ceremony that ought to be done, but unsure what it might be.

A man with a rake came up to them, and Dean recognized the gardener from before. The boys shifted uneasily, but he just leaned on the end of the long-handled tool, staring at the mound of earth. After a long moment, he nodded in satisfaction. "That was good of you boys," he said at last. "Roger deserved to come home." And he bowed his head and began to speak a prayer for the dead over the new grave. The boys followed suit, gravely. At some point during the prayer, they were joined by a pretty young woman, who also bowed her head in respect.

The prayer done, the gardener looked up at the newest arrival. "Alvara. I thought you would be here."

She nodded at the grave. "I'm glad he's home, Jebediah."

Dean blinked at the pair. "'Jebediah'?" he echoed. He glanced downwards and jumped back with a yelp. The man had no shadow.

The 'gardner' smiled, sadness echoing around his eyes. "Didn't think ghosts could walk during the day, did you, Dean?" he asked ruefully, then answered his own question. "Mostly no. But a Husker, on Alvara's ground? Yes. It's a special dispensation."

Sam looked at the woman. In the morning light, she had an almost ageless quality hanging about her, an indefinable aura of power. "Alvara..." he mused. "Germanic; means Noble Guardian. So you're Roger's Lady."

Alvara smiled a little half smile, and shrugged with one shoulder. "I have many names," she hedged. "Jebediah? You should rest now," she told the ghost. "My Roger is home again, and you have no need to keep wandering above ground."

Jebediah was starting to fray around the edges, mist tendrils peeling off in the rays of the morning sun. "Thank you boys," he said to the Winchesters. "You've no idea how much this means to me." He glanced sideways at Alvara. "To us," he amended. They nodded, and he turned his eyes fully on the Guardian. "My Lady? There is one last thing. The church..." Their eyes drifted sideways to the decaying building, and Alvara nodded.

"It shall be restored, Jebediah. I promise you." The ghost nodded his thanks, and then drifted away, incorporeal and at rest.

She was about to walk away when Sam asked the question that was burning in his mind. "That's it? I thought your pact was with the Husker family for a living Husker's son?" Dean glared at his brother, but Sam didn't notice.

Alvara nodded slowly. "Yes, that is so. And so it is. My anger is appeased, with Roger's body back on my land and his spirit at rest. And the covenant continues, though my son is too young to know it yet."

Sam blinked. "Son?" But Alvara had left them, heading across to the parking lot to a waiting Andy, who laughed and ran to hug his mother. The younger Winchester tilted his head. He looked rather a lot like Jebediah, from a certain angle.

Dean saw it, too. "I think she didn't want to chance losing the Husker line for good," he mused. "Either that, or she fell for Roger harder than we thought."

"Sounds like she's retiring, boys," said Bobby. They'd called him once they were on the road, the Impala collecting a fine coating of dust as they drove past acres of cornfields. "Guardians only ever have kids once they're planning on passing on. Your Andy's the next in line for the Guardianship of Carrolton."

"So it'll be alright then?" Dean confirmed, and Bobby sighed. "Yeah, it'll be alright. Now get back here; I've got a couple of new leads for ya and I think you'll like 'em."

"Roger that," the elder Winchester replied, and snapped his phone shut. He took the next left, heading for the highway, and turned up the volume on the stereo.

They blasted out of Carrolton County on the wings of an electric guitar.

Alvara watched them go, a smile on her lips as she taught Andy how to manipulate the little dust devils that sprang up along the side of the road. The boy was a natural, she thought, and she'd chosen his father well. A few more years, and the land of her keeping would take her in, as it had generations of Guardians before her. A persistent itch in the back of her mind settled, now that Roger was back on her land and within her bounds. Soon, my love. Soon enough, we'll be together forever.

It was a good promise, and she sent a wave of thanks after the Winchester sons. They had given her back her heart, and if they ever came back through her land, she would repay them with all the rewards she could give.

Then she put them from her mind and turned back to her son, grinning as she watched him play.