Night had truly fallen by the time Cas pushed his way into the barn where he and the witch had left the Winchesters. He shone the flashlight across the three prone bodies. The two largest figures were breathing softly, for all appearances deeply asleep, not wrestling with the very spark of life. The smallest body was still and silent. Rowena clutched his coat sleeve as she caught her balance on the uneven floor.

"I'll be glad to be out of this clarty place," she groused. He shone the light at her feet to make her passage easier and she made her way to the three. "Well, at least they didn't blow up." Crouching, she hovered a hand over first Dean, then Sam.

"Is it working?" Cas asked anxiously.

"It's difficult to tell. It's an excellent sign that Samuel is breathing again, but we really won't know until they wake up." She sounded worried. Despite her churlish demeanor Cas sensed that perhaps Rowena cared more for the Winchesters than she would like to admit. Frankly, he wasn't surprised. Sam and Dean were extraordinary men, and it was hard not to admire them. Certainly, he had been changed by their friendship.

Rowena went over to the makeshift table and began to pack the items she had brought.

"May I suggest that you find something to wrap the poor wee lad in," she said, tipping her chin towards where Noah's body lay. Cas didn't need his angelic powers to recognize that the child was dead. He could only hope that the boy's soul was safe in Heaven, but Rowena was right. This was something he could do to spare his friends. Cases related to children, especially those that did not end well, hit them hard. For all their toughness and pragmatism, both brothers were profoundly saddened by the loss of a child.

Scooping up the small form, he made his way back outside to where the Impala glimmered in the dark. Fetching the sheet that he'd brought for this purpose, Cas reverently wrapped the little body, then he carefully placed it in the trunk. He would let Sam and Dean decide what to do next.

"Castiel!" Rowena's urgent call had him pocketing the keys and hurrying back inside.

Dean was sitting up, looking slightly dazed as he blinked and rubbed a sleeve across his forehead. Cas went over and offered help as he scrambled to his feet.

"How are you feeling, Dean?" Rowena was at his elbow.

"I'm aces, Rowena. How about you?" he asked sarcastically. Cas noticed the slight tremor in Dean's hands and the stiff way he stood. Sarcasm was a familiar tool that Dean often used when he felt awkward or exposed.

"No need to get shirty with me. I'm just asking to make sure there's only you in that fool head of yours." Her words were snarky, but just like Dean she used her tone to shield her softer side. It was an interesting human attribute.

"Yeah, I'm the only one home." Catching a glimpse of Sam still lying on the floor, Dean crouched down to check his brother's pulse. "What's wrong with Sam?" he demanded. "I thought I sent him back using that spell of yours."

"Well, I suspect it will take your brother a bit longer to come back to himself. After all, he's been dead for quite a while. I know for a fact that can take a lot out of a person." Cas thought he detected a slight shudder through her small frame.

Dean acknowledged her, but Cas knew he was still worried. "Okay, well. Let's get out of here and get Sam home," Dean said, brushing his hands on his jeans.

xxxxxx

His chin propped up on his fist, Dean was sitting beside Sam's bed watching his brother sleep. Maybe it was a little creepy, but after everything they'd gone through over the past few days Dean didn't care. Jack and Cas had given Sam another once over and confirmed that his soul was right where it belonged, but until Sammy woke up and Dean could see for himself, he couldn't relax. Poor Noah's little body was wrapped and hidden behind a curtain in one of the beds at the other end of the infirmary. They would give the boy a hunter's funeral once Sam was back on his feet, but for now Dean would gratefully watch the slow rise and fall of Sam's chest as he slept.

It was peaceful in the bunker. Cas and Jack were out picking up supplies. Mom and Bobby were still on the road. Even Rowena had packed up last night after the ritual and left for a nearby motel, declaring a need to catch up on her beauty sleep uninterrupted. It was just him and Sam, the way it had always been. Oh, he was grateful for his family, friends, and in the case of Rowena, frenemy, but the quiet was nice. The last few days had been a rollercoaster, but now that things were almost back to normal, he had a chance to count his blessings.

He was walking around with full use of his limbs. Sammy was no longer fun sized. Michael was dead. Lucifer was dead. For the first time in a long time there was no apocalypse looming, no big bad to chase down. Once Sam was ready, Dean would find them a nice easy case and they could hit the road. It would be like the old days, just the two of them, and the Impala, cruising down the blacktop.

"Are you watching me sleep, you perv?" Sam said, eyes still closed. Dean couldn't stifle a burst of surprised laughter.

"Nah, despite your luxurious girly hair, you're not my type," he retorted. With a sleepy groan, Sam shuffled up to sit against the headboard. He stretched and then dragged his fingers across his scalp. It made his bedhead even more unruly, but that combination of moves was something that Dean had witnessed Sam do more times than he could count. This was 100% his brother and he felt the last bit of doubt drain away. Pushing the covers aside, Sam swung his legs over the edge of the bed.

"Whoa, easy. You've been down for a few days." Dean leaned forward, ready to catch Sam if he tipped forward. When Sam was steady Dean leaned back. "How're you doing?" he asked.

"Fine I guess." Sam looked around the infirmary with a puzzled look on his face. "Wait, how did we get back from the barn?"

Dean shrugged. "Cas and I hauled your heavy ass to the car and then back here." Sam's cheeks flushed a little pink, but he didn't ask any other questions. As relieved as Dean was that Sam was himself again, he wasn't foolish enough to think the ordeal hadn't been rough on the kid. It would be a lot for anyone to process so if Sam needed some time to cope, Dean would do whatever he could to help. "Anything else you want to know," he offered.

"Are you okay?"

"Yes Sam," Dean scoffed, rolling his eyes.

"You sure? Because I saw what Lucifer did to you, and I know you were in the hospital for a while."

Dean waved away the concern before Sam could get himself worked up. "Yeah, I'm sure. Look, was it fun being stuck in a wheelchair for a few days – no.? But it was hardly the worst thing that's ever happened to me." The worst thing, what would always be the worst thing was seeing his brother die. It had happened way too many times. The memory of Michael killing Sam was still very fresh and Dean suppressed a shudder.

"Uh, what happened to Michael?" Sam asked almost as if he could tell where Dean's mind had gone.

"Jack killed him, absorbed all his grace somehow and burnt him out."

"So both him and Lucifer –"

"Both dead," Dean answered before Sam could finish asking. Reaching out, he tapped his brother's knee lightly with the back of his hand to get his attention. When Sam met his eyes he continued.

"They're gone, Sam. For good this time."

Sam took a deep breath then let it out slowly, some of the tension melting from his broad shoulders. His lips twitched into a ghost of a smile. "Good," he said softly.

Maybe it was the tousled hair, or the fact that Sam was still sleep rumpled, but the kid looked open, vulnerable. He fiddled with the edge of the blanket. Dean was fluent in little brother and could tell that Sammy had a lot more on his mind that he wasn't quite ready to share. The bunker was all theirs right now, so Dean was content to wait until Sam wanted to talk. Crossing his legs at the ankle Dean settled back in his chair, affecting a casualness that he hoped masked how closely he was watching his brother.

Sam slowly rubbed a palm across his chest where the terrible wound had been. Then he held his hands up and examined them closely. He stared at his knees and bare feet for a while. "Everything seems bigger," he said, still in a quiet tone. "I'm glad to be back in my body, but it doesn't feel right just yet."

Dean frowned. "Give it some time," he said.

Sam nodded absently, then cleared his throat. "So, uh, were you serious? When you said you'd be willing to deal with me if I got stuck as a child?"

Ah, so that's what Sammy was worried about. Dean's first impulse was to make a joke, or to tease his brother. But something told him Sam needed a little more reassurance than a quick response this time, so he thought carefully about his answer.

"I have a lot of regrets, Sam. When you were a kid, I wasn't always the best brother." Sam opened his mouth, but Dean stopped him with a gesture. "No, let me finish. When you were little, you were so curious. You wanted to know everything and most of the time, I didn't have any answers. So I'd lie to you or tell you to shut up. And I shouldn't have done that. In fact, there were a lot of things that I shouldn't have done, especially as you got older." Dean trailed off for a second.

"Now, I did the best I could at the time. But if you had a do over…" There were so many things he wanted for Sam, so many lost opportunities. "This time, I'd make sure you never had to hunt. You could stay in one place, have a house, get to know Mom, maybe make some friends. With brains like yours, you'd have to be one of those child geniuses that finish their PhD at 14 or something. But this time around - this time you could have a better life, a normal life, a chance to be happy."

"Dean," Sam said, shaking his head. "I don't want that life. I'm not that kid anymore, regardless of what body I'm in. This is my life," he waved his arm encompassing the whole bunker. "And sure, it's hard, and we deal with a lot of crap sometimes. But I am happy. I don't want to be anywhere else."

Sam's earnest words hung in the air, and they made Dean feel embarrassingly gooey inside. For Sammy to want to be here, beside him – well that was all Dean had ever truly wanted. It was like winning the lottery, and it made all the crazy, screwed up garbage that fell their way worth it. He let himself bask in this feeling for an instant but then he packed it away. It was time to break up this mushiness.

"C'mon. You go grab a shower and I'll make you some of those pancakes you like." Dean stood and offered a hand to his brother who took it and pulled himself to standing.

"Can I get some coffee, first?" he negotiated.

"Sure," Dean said. Before he could move, Sam was wrapping his arms around him, pulling him close.

"Thanks Dean," he whispered into Dean's neck.

Dean gave him one last squeeze. "Sure thing Sammy," he said with a smile.

The End.

Thanks to everyone for going on this journey with me! And another heart-felt thank you to my dear Beta shadowhuntingdauntlessdemigod for all her kind assistance.