The Wayward Sons
Thanks to K Hanna Korossy and geminigrl11 for editing, despite all of us being in mourning this weekend.
Part of this is dedicated to darkmillennium for her work on the divergence of divine law over on ao3 which I've been following these last few months.SPN SPN SPN
"It's so beautiful here," Sam remarked, watching the forest race by outside the Impala's windshield.
"Yeah," Dean said, barely paying attention to the road. He didn't need to. "It's perfect."
Sam looked over at him, tearing up again. He couldn't stop staring. Dean smiled serenely, reaching over to pat him on the arm. "Don't cry, Sammy."
"I can't help it," Sam laughed, despite the emotions bubbling over inside. "I missed you."
Dean grinned slyly. "Why? It's only been about twenty minutes."
"Dean—"
"I'm kidding. I know."
Sam nodded, turning back to the tranquil countryside and trying to pull himself together.
"So, you were telling me about mini-Dean…."
Sam smiled. "Not so mini. He was 26 when I…" He faltered. "When I left."
"He'll be along before you know it." Dean assured him. "It's all right."
"Yeah," Sam replied softly. "He, um, he's like you. Tough. Loves cars. Real ladies man."
"Oh, well, I see the resemblance already!"
"But he's smarter than you."
"Of course he is," Dean shot back. "He's your son."
"Not the best driver."
"Like I said, he's your son."
Sam laughed again. He couldn't stop doing that, either. "I taught him how to drive in the Impala. Took three tries before he'd leave the driveway."
"Baby's a lot of car to handle." Dean nodded, not even appearing upset that someone else was driving her.
Sam shook his head. "No, it wasn't that. He was terrified of hurting the car. It's the one of the few times she ever left the garage." At Dean's raised brow, he explained. "He'd been begging me to go for a ride for years, but…I could never sit in the driver's seat."
Dean grunted quietly. "He a hunter?"
"No." Sam answered, the never again remaining unspoken. "But, I taught him how to protect himself and his family. Nothing will ever hurt him."
"Good." Dean nodded. "That's good. Hey, what happened to Miracle?"
Sam huffed a sad laugh. "He lived about ten more years. I buried him at the Bunker, since that was his real home. The only time I went back. He was happy."
"Good."
"This is a long road," Sam said, drawing in a deep breath.
"Aren't they all?" Dean smiled at him. "Hey, you wanna stop by and see Mom and Dad? They're supposed to be close."
Sam gave him a questioning look. "You haven't seen them?"
"Not yet."
"Why?"
Dean glanced at him. "I was waiting for you."
Sam looked over at his brother, so touched he was momentarily unable to speak. He felt no sadness, though, only warmth. Something caught his eye further up the road. It was a house. He had no idea why, but it seemed familiar. "Who lives there?"
Following his gaze, Dean tilted his head. "Don't know."
He pulled the car off the road, and parked it in the driveway of the rather ordinary, simply decorated house. Something was familiar about it, though he couldn't place where he'd seen it. Sam could tell that Dean felt it too.
"Want to knock?" Dean asked.
"Sure." Sam shrugged. He felt curious, but not tense. There was no danger here. Danger was only a distant, rapidly dimming, memory. Dean stepped onto the porch and knocked on the front door. It took only a moment for it to open, and a set of bright blue eyes met Sam's.
"Hey, Sam." Adam said, his expression somewhat surprised, but welcoming. "Dean."
"Adam," Dean said, grinning.
Their younger brother grinned back, showing none of the animosity he'd demonstrated all those years ago. He motioned them inside. "Come in."
The interior triggered Sam's memory. This was Adam's house. The one where the ghouls had taken him and his mother…and had almost drained Sam dry of blood. The house he and Dean had burned down, to erase any trace of their DNA and any chance of Adam's spirit being trapped there. None of that mattered anymore. Here it was perfectly intact, everything in its place.
He stopped short when he noticed someone sitting at the dining room table. It was another Adam, sitting with his back straight, proper, setting up pieces on a game board. When Sam blinked, he could see the true form of the incandescent being within. "Michael."
The archangel looked up at them, appraising them for a moment before smiling. "Hello, boys."
Sam felt no fear, just mild confusion. He shared a glance with Dean, who looked equally surprised.
"I thought you'd be in the Empty," Dean stated simply.
Michael shrugged. "I was. My nephew came to me, offered me a new path."
"So you're…what?" Sam asked. "Watching over Heaven?"
The archangel surprised him by chuckling pleasantly. "No, no. I am…" He paused, seeming to search for the words. "Retired."
"We're about to have dinner, as soon as my mom comes inside," Adam explained. "Just enough time for one game, if you want to join us."
Sam frowned, looking over at Dean. His brother seemed to connect the dots first.
"Michael lives here."
That drew a fond smile from their brother.
"Seems like we lived together forever, already," Adam said. "This time…it's just in a happier place."
"'Happily ever after,'" Michael added, watching Adam from his seat at the table. "I think that's the phrase. Seems like a better path to me."
The words brought a soft smile to Sam's face. His eyes drifted to Dean. "Yeah. Yeah, it does."
Dean returned the look placidly. He was more at peace than Sam had ever seen him. Dean turned and addressed Adam. "We were just going to see Dad. You want to come?"
"Do you…" Adam asked hesitantly. "Do you think he'd want to see me?"
"I know he would," Dean said.
Adam seemed torn for a moment, looking back at Michael. The archangel watched the exchange benignly. "Go for it, kid. I'll be right here."
The younger man nodded, and moved to follow Dean out the door. In that moment, Sam finally saw it. There was no rancor here. The old hurts and betrayals were forgotten, forever behind them. Not just between him and Dean, but between them all. He felt no sense of loss anymore, or grief. None of the feelings he'd carried with him for so long. It was….
"Paradise." Michael said, as if reading his feelings. "The way it should have been all along."
Sam smiled. "Thank you for taking care of our brother."
When we didn't echoed in his mind, but quickly faded away.
"In many ways," Michael mused, eyes drifting toward the door. "He takes care of me."
Sam retreated back out the front door and stood watching his brothers, who were closer to the Impala. Adam walked back, joining him on the porch.
"Takes a little time to get used to it."
Looking around the idyllic setting, Sam nodded slowly. "Yeah."
"The damage heals," Adam explained. "Some souls take longer than others. But you'll adjust."
Sam met his gaze. Adam was one of the few who knew just how damaged Sam's soul was, had seen it firsthand in the Cage. He'd lived decades on Earth with those gaping wounds—compounded by losing Dean—and never quite healing them no matter how happy his life after hunting had been. A wife and a son and a picket fence had covered them over, but….
Now he felt them healing.
Adam nodded to him, then headed for the car. Dean stepped over to stand next to him. "You okay?"
Watching him for a moment, Sam sighed. "Yeah. I am." For the first time in countless years, he meant it. "What do we do now?"
Dean shrugged. "Well, we go see Mom and Dad, after that…no plans. Maybe we'll see if this place has a Grand Canyon."
Sam smiled. For the first time, he felt what he could see Dean was feeling. Peace. "I know it does."
END