Hey guys. I am still crying... So I wrote an epilogue. I hope you enjoy it. Thanks to everyone who read, followed, favorited and reviewed the story so far! You're are awesome.

Stars

Sam took a sip from his beer. It washed down smoothly and tasted pleasant. He closed his eyes for a split second before he looked back at the night sky. He took a deep breath and wondered if he actually had to breath. He at least could breathe - easier than ever before. For forty years, he had been in constant pain. The Pain of losing his brother, the physical pain of growing old and the mental pain of not knowing what to expect for his own feature.

"Are you okay, Sammy?" Dean's voice was gentle, when he sat down on the hood of the Impala, just beside his brother. He also had a beer in his hand, his eyes soon following his brother's gaze up to the stars.

"Yeah", Sam nodded. "Yeah", he repeated. Why didn't he sound like it?

Deans elbow brushed against his arm, nudging him gently. "What is bothering you?"

"Everything is so", Sam searched for a fitting expression. "... perfect."

"... terrible, right?" Dean's voice was smug. Sam could feel his brother's eyes on him. When Sam turned to face him, Dean's eyes grew softer. "What are you upset about, Sammy?"

"I don't know." It was the truth.

"Are you scared that you might wake up?" Dean suggested.

Sam wanted to object, but couldn't really bring himself to do so. He let his head fall against the windshield of the car. He waited for Dean to continue talking. His big brother would conduct all the evidence of what was wrong with Sam and would pinpoint it. God, he had missed him.

"Is that the reason why you stood as far away as possible from everyone we've met today? I mean, besides Cas and me?" Dean inquired.

"The reason for what exactly?" Sam closed his eyes, listening to his brother's voice, feeling the car beneath him, the wind on his face.

"You don't want it to end." Dean reasoned. "You ware keeping mom and dad at a distance as if you were scared that you would destroy your illusion, the second you remember something incorrectly. Like ... mom's voice ... or..."

"You're pretty close right now, Dean." Sam raised an eyebrow.

"You know everything about me. 40 years wouldn't change that. A hundred years in the pit didn't change that." Dean said it with so much confidence that Sam had to smile despite himself. It wasn't helping with the problem, but his brother had a point there.

"It's too good to be true." Sam gave a small smile.

"I know." Dean nodded and surprised his younger brother with that statement. "What? You're right. After everything, it is too good to be true. But it is true, Sammy!"

"How do we know?"

"Because we both earned it," Dean explained. "Because everyone we trust says so. Because nothing here is a memory. Because we are not creative enough to just imagine Rufus, Dad and Bobby bicker about absolutely nothing. Because I believe in Jack and Cas to actually achieve something like that."

"I know. Me too," the younger Brother got frustrated with himself. "It's still too perfect."

"I mean, I could pick a fight with you", Dean shrugged. Sam could feel the movement against his arm. "A really big argument with flying fists and a silent treatment afterwards. You know, really tainting your experience of heaven."

"Sure, as if only my experience would be spoilt by that." Sam shook his head and rolled his eyes. "Do you really think that arguments happen here?"

"We're Winchesters." Dean gave a lopsided grin. "Obviously we're gonna fight sooner or later. I love you Sammy, but you are a handful. And now we have an eternity together." The words were light-hearted.

"Okay", Sam breathed out, nodding his head. "I believe you."

"I don't even get to punch you?" Dean tried to sound disappointed.

"Shut up, Dean." A small laugh escaped Sam's lips.

After that they sat in silence, looking at the night's sky. Somehow the stars looked different here; closer and more distinctive. Sam leaned a bit more into Dean's shoulder. "Thank you. Love you, too."

"Ugh Sam, you are not supposed to say it back." Dean shook his head, but the smile was evident in his voice.

Sam closed his eyes, smiling. He had waited 40 years to say it back. He was fucking entitled to say it back.

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