Dean stood in the middle of the Bunker library and looked his nephew up and down, one eyebrow arched, and a crooked grin on his lips.
He glanced over his shoulder and gave Sam a nod and a smile.
"So, you're Dean huh?" he said to the young man standing in front of him. "Dean… JUNIOR. Sorry you're dead, kid, but I'm glad to meet you." He threw his arms around the younger Dean and pulled him in for a tight hug.
"You told mum and dad your kid's here?" he said, turning to face his brother, his arm casually resting over his nephew's shoulder.
"Of course," Sam said. "We're invited over for dinner, later. You too. Dad's cooking."
"Well, that's a relief. As long as it ain't mum," Dean put his face in closer to his nephew, "Your grandmother is no Martha Stewart," he whispered out of the corner of his mouth. "Wait, do you even know who Martha Stewart is?"
"I… ah… think so. I think dad had one of her cookbooks?" Dean Jr. looked at his father and gave him a shrug.
Dean's eyebrows went sky high as he smirked at Sam. "Oh really?"
"Shut up," Sam said, grinning back at his brother.
"Hey," Dean said, as a thought suddenly came to him. "Mum and dad know your kid had kids. GRANDPA?" He smirked again.
"Funny," Sam said. "GREAT UNCLE. And I'm not telling mum she's a great grandmother. Are you?"
Dean laughed. "No freakin' way! And yes, I am a great uncle. I'm a freakin' awesome uncle!" He looked at his nephew again, placing his hands on the young man's shoulders as he studied his face. "You look like Sam. You do. Same eyes. Same hair that needs cutting."
His nephew frowned.
"I'm teasing you, kid. Your father not tell you about me?"
"He told me a lot, actually," Dean Jr. said.
"Well, how about you fill me in on the details over a beer and I'll tell you the real stories." He gave his nephew a wink.
"Dean," Sam said. "Leave him alone."
"We got catching up to do, isn't that right, kid?" Dean slapped his nephew hard on the back.
"I'd like that, Uncle Dean."
Dean sighed. "Uncle Dean… That sounds pretty awesome. Hey. Your dad teach you about cars?"
Dean saw Sam's eyes nearly roll back into his head.
Dean Jr. looked at his dad again, "Um. No. Not really."
"I taught him about Math and things he'd need." Sam said, shaking his head at his brother.
"Nerd," Dean said. "Come on kid, let me introduce you to Baby."
ooo
Dean ran his hand along his Baby's cool, black frame. The sun glinted off her chrome and her paintwork practically shimmered. "She's a beauty, huh?"
"That's the same car dad had in his garage," Dean Jr. said as he walked around Baby's spotless exterior. "He never drove it. Or let me near it. He kept it under a tarp. Mostly."
"He didn't drive her?"
"No. Not that I ever saw. He used to…" Dean's nephew hesitated.
"He used to what?"
"He used to go sit in it. Sometimes. Late at night. He didn't know I knew. But I did."
Dean closed his eyes, a sudden ache taking hold of his heart. "How often?" he said.
"Not often. Just… sometimes. When he was sad. Missing you, I guess."
Dean took a deep breath and ran a hand down his face. "You know, kid. I never meant to leave your dad. Believe me. If I could have stayed…"
"He never blamed you, Uncle Dean," Dean Jr. interrupted. "The opposite, actually. He told me you always looked out for him. He said even when you were dying… ah… you made sure he was going to be okay."
The memory of the moment came flashing back to Dean. It was misty now. What he said. But he'll always remember how he felt. Not the pain of the rod piercing his back, just the pain of his brother's tears.
"I think maybe…" Dean Jr. went on, then hesitated again.
"You think…?"
"I think maybe I learned about love and how powerful it can be, through the love dad had for you, and the love he said you always gave him."
Dean was silent. He looked back over his shoulder towards the Bunker, where his brother was. Damn, it was good to have Sam by his side. Even under the circumstances. He was glad he was there. It was always him and Sam. Always.
"I'm sorry," Dean's nephew said. "I shouldn't have…"
"No, kid. It's cool. I'm glad he had you, and I'm real happy he had a good life. You know? Real happy. And I know he woulda made sure you had the kinda childhood me and him never had. Am I right?"
"Yeah. He was a good dad. A great dad."
Dean nodded. "I wish I coulda seen that. Sam said you left behind a couple of kids too, huh? That must be rough. How old?"
"My boys are fourteen and ten,"
"Brothers." Dean chuffed out a small laugh. "Nice."
"I wish I could be there for them," Dean Jr. went on. "Help them as they grow. Teach them like my dad taught me. I hate leaving them. So much. But, I got sick. I just… I know their mum will take care of them, and I know they'll take care of each other."
"We can't help dying, kid. Fact of life. Don't beat yourself up over it. I know where that road takes you, and it ain't pretty. Believe me." He touched his nephew on the shoulder. "You'll see your family soon enough. Time moves differently up here."
"I can wait."
Dean nodded. "So… ah… what happened to the car? After your dad… Um…"
"I kept it. Started it once in a while to make sure it kept running. Washed it now and then. I told my oldest he could have it when his mum says it's okay. He's named after my dad. And the youngest, well, he's named after you."
"You named your kids Sam and Dean?"
Dean Jr. smiled. "Yep."
"That's great. Do they know about…"
"The family business? Their mum does. She's got your dad's journal. My grandfather's journal. She'll pass it on to them and tell them about what you and dad did when she thinks they're ready to hear it. Like dad told me. They need to know. It's their legacy."
Dean smiled and shook his head. Their legacy. Sam and his legacy. A surge of happiness filled his entire insides from top to bottom. He was slowly getting used to the feeling. The happiness. He was slowly getting used to the strangeness of feeling good all the time.
"So, you wanna go for a ride?" he said.
"Should we tell dad?"
"Nah. We won't be long. Be back before he even knows we're gone. You've got plenty of time to catch up. All the time in the world." He tossed his nephew the keys. "You wanna drive?"
Dean Jr. grinned. "Do I get to pick the music?"
Dean threw his head back and laughed. "Your dad has been telling you stories! Sure thing, kid," he said, as he swung open his Baby's door and climbed in.
ooo
Miracle barrelled past Dean's legs, barking as he raced down the hall towards the back yard and his favourite squirrel tree. As Dean stepped into the lounge-room of his parent's house, an old familiar warmth ran up his spine. The smell of spaghetti and meatballs wafted through the air, and he took in a deep, satisfying breath, practically tasting the aroma. His stomach rumbled. Even dead, Dean loved his food.
"Hey mum," he called out.
"Hi honey," Mary said, coming into the room, and enveloping Dean in a hug.
"You bring my car back?" John said, as he stepped out of the kitchen, wiping his hands on a dishtowel.
"I believe that's my car you're talking about, old man," Dean said and wrapped his arms around his father.
John smiled. "Knock it off with the old man stuff," he said, and he spun the dishtowel and flicked it at his eldest son.
"Hey!" Dean said with a laugh, and then turned around when he heard Sam clear his throat.
"Mum, dad," Sam said. "This is, ah. This is your grandson, Dean."
"Welcome, Dean," John said, putting out his hand. "It's great to meet you."
Mary shoved her husband aside. "Oh, for goodness' sake, John," she said as she wrapped her grandson in her arms. "Hello, sweetheart."
Dean watched on. His smile spread so wide he thought his face might break in two and his heart overflowing with love, as his mum and his dad, and his brother and his brother's kid hugged and talked and laughed, and his dog jumped around, wagging his tail and barking with joy.
He closed his eyes and thought of Jack and Cas.
"Thanks guys," he whispered, then clapped his hands and hollered, "I'm starving! Let's eat!"
It was everything he'd ever wanted. Right in front of him. Him and Sam. His mum and dad. His family. Together. Forever.
It was everything.
It was heaven.
~Fin~