EPI/(O|O)\\LOGUE

The smell of freshly cut grass was heavy in the air and the breeze that circled around was soft enough to refresh heated skin without stealing any of the warmth of the bright sun above.

Children's laughter painted the air with sparkling colors, the carefree giggles of pure joy punctuated by the deeper laughs of adults. Some where at a distance, too far to actually see the animal, but still near enough to hear its bark, a dog sounded about as happy as everyone else.

There was a radio playing somewhere, gentle music notes floating aimlessly, spreading some song about summer rain and lemons.

The shaggy haired giant beneath the willow tree could only be Sam, even though he looked nothing like the Sam he remembered.

Well… he had the same hair, the same height, the same ratty jeans and worn tennis shoes. He even had one of those embarrassing Sam-shirts that no other man would dare to wear.

The big difference was his face. This Sam looked… happy.

Light.

Dean remembered this. He remembered dreaming of precisely this, weeks before...

"You're just gonna stand there like a creepy stalker or are you actually gonna go over there and say hello?"

Dean looked over his shoulder. Bobby was smiling, something the older man still hadn't been able to stop doing after Dean had passed all the tests that he had come up with to prove that Dean was truly who he said he was.

Dean looked back at the sunny scene. Sam wasn't alone.

But unlike with the dream, he wasn't playing softball with a kid. The kid on Sam's lap wasn't old enough to walk yet, much less throw ball.

Everything was so familiar, and yet so new to him. The grass beneath his boots; the bark of the tree under his fingers; the sun, beating down warmly down his exposed neck. The baby's giggle that traveled all the way from where Sam was seating under the tree to where Dean and Bobby were hidden, watching.

"I'm gonna scare them half to death," Dean voiced. He felt shyer than he had ever felt in his life. "Sam looks happy. Maybe I should just—"

"Sure you're gonna scare the crap out Sam," Bobby agreed with a smirk. "And he might dunk you in holy water before he believes it's really you, Dean," he said. Lord knew that opening his front door and catching an eyeful of Dean, who was supposed to be dead, covered in sweat and dirt, smiling back at him had almost made Bobby crap his pants. "But nothing will make those two more happy than seeing you alive."

Dean looked down, unsure about what to do. "What did he name him?"

Bobby grinned, a fond look in his eyes that spoke of many nights holding that kid, feeding him formula bottles and changing his smelly diapers. "Robert John," he said with a proud glint to his eyes. "He figured you would like that."

It was Dean's turn to smile. He did. It was the perfect name for his s— "What is he like?" Dean found himself asking. He had barely any recollection of the baby before dying, only a vague notion that he was okay and that he was human.

"Lil'Bobby? He's a sweet kid, quiet as an angel," Bobby said, sounding more like a proud grandfather than the gruff hunter that he was. "He kept Sam and me sane after... you know," he added more seriously, sad eyes meetings Dean's. "It was hard, Dean... hardest thing ever, to go on with life knowing that, after all we'd done, you had still gone to Hell. Every stinky piece of low scum demon that we hunted after your death took pride in telling us where you were, what was happening to you—" Bobby stopped himself.

Dean had assured Bobby that he had no recollection of what had happened to him after he'd bleed to death in that abandoned warehouse. There was no point in putting nasty images in his head now. "He kept us grounded, gave us something to focus... in a way, it was like having you around."

"And he's..." Dean bit his lip. "He is human, right? You're sure of it?"

"A hundred percent Winchester, according to the tests Sam had him do," Bobby assured him. "A hundred percent you, actually," he added, "given that the DNA test was a perfect match to you."

"So, he's what... my clone?"

"He's your son, Dean," Bobby stated, the assertion leaving no room for more questions. "Go to them," Bobby said again, gently shoving Dean forward.

And Dean went.

/(O|O)\\

The man wearing a trench coat in the middle of the hot, summer afternoon seemed unaffected by the heat of the sun as he watched the Winchesters' reunion.

"We are wasting time," his companion, dressed in a similar fashion, pointed out impatiently. "He has a job to do, one that does not include baby sitting abominations like that child and that brother of his."

"Quiet," the man in the trench coat said, his blue eyes fixed on the scene up ahead. "There is time still... for now, let us allow Dean Winchester have at least this. "

The end

AN- Alrighty then, this is it! I would like to leave here my renewed and deepest thanks to Greeneyes_fan and Amber1960, who took over when my beta could not; my deepest thanks to my beta, Jackfan2, for all the support and work she put into this for over a year and to Farscapefan, the generous fan who decided to donate to the Doctors Without Borders cause in the name of fandom, Jared and Jensen and, in doing so, pushed me outside of my comfort zone and into this dark and delicious tale of loss, pain, forgiveness and hope.

To all that have stood with me this far, my sincere thank you. It was a pleasure to write this for all of you *bows*