AN: So, here's the end. I finished it in a way that's a bit unconventional…I'm curious to know what y'all think. If you're still reading, thanks for sticking with me! Sending virtual chocolate to all of you!

Two Days Later

Sam leaned against the side of the Impala while Dean messed around under the hood, muttering and swearing. Nobody suspected them of anything, and the ferry company had paid for their hospital stay, car storage, and even the cab to go retrieve her. The brothers were sore but more than ready to go back home. But then, Baby wouldn't start.

"There is nothing wrong with her!" Dean shouted, making Sam wince a little. His shoulder was sore and his wrist was painful, but his head was the worst. "The intake manifold didn't even get wet. And I just gave her a whole tune up before we ever came to Michigan."

Something clicked in Sam's brain, and he stood up and began to feel around carefully in the closest wheel well. He had refused to have his shoulder immobilized, but the reaching didn't feel great.

"Whatcha doin', Sammy?" asked Dean.

"Chase, when he was possessed, was looking for something in the car. I feel like Michelle might have planted a hex bag. That would explain the other hunters dying in their cars."

Dean gently shouldered Sam aside and checked the rest of the wheel wells himself, coming up with an unmistakable black bundle from next to the rear passenger tire. It was stuck in place with a magnet. "Clever," Dean admitted, tossing it to the ground and pulling his lighter.

"Wait!" called Sam, making a note that Dean still moved like his arms hurt. "Open it and take a picture of what's inside before you burn it." Dean grumbled but gave in, knowing Sam was always seeking out more knowledge. Soon it was opened, photographed, and torched.

Dean slid back into the driver's seat and turned the key. This time, instead of dying immediately, she purred to life. "Ha HA!" he crowed. "Let's get outta here."

It was hard to say which brother was happier to get back to the bunker. Both took painkillers without protest and ate the soup that Kevin heated up for them. They also didn't argue when he suggested a movie night. Truth was, it was far too early for a Winchester to admit they were ready for bed. But half an hour into the movie, both were passed out, so neither saw the satisfied smirk on the prophet's face.

WINCHESTER * WINCHESTER

Four Days Later

"I did it!" called Kevin suddenly, a welcome distraction from Sam's research on hex bag ingredients and attempts to itch inside his cast with a pencil. The taller man smirked at the fact that Kevin was wearing the fake glasses, as he had ever since he heard the results of his "experiment." What women he was hoping to attract inside the bunker, Sam had no idea, but he hadn't said a word.

"What, figure out how to get another inch? Of height?" called Dean from the kitchen, with a very deliberate pause in the middle.

Though never an actual little brother, Kevin had nonetheless learned the fine art of ignoring teasing. "No, I found her. I finally tracked Margaretha. Wanna meet your mysterious lady? I can figure out where she's calling and sending emails from." He gave a half smirk that made him fit right in with the Winchesters. "She can't hide from Kevin Solo."

Dean had come to the doorway, and gave a who knows shrug to Sam at the moniker. "Okay, Q. Where's M?"

Kevin typed for another minute. "Her real name is Elizabeth Nephus and she lives in – oh. She lives at the Quiet Valley Hospice House in Lincoln, Nebraska." The triumphant look slid off his face. "End stage melanoma." On cue, his phone rang. He picked it up with clear misgiving. "Yes? Uh, maybe. No, ma'am, that wasn't very respectful of your privacy. I'm sorry, ma'am."

Dean gave a gimme crook of his finger, and Kevin gladly handed the phone over. "Margaretha, it's Dean. I heard a rumor that we're practically neighbors. We also hear that you've been helping out hunters for a long time. Whaddaya say about a little visit? Sam and I would kinda like to shake your hand."

Dean had gone through Bobby's journal and found at least twice that the woman's information had saved their friend's life, and they had so few connections to their surrogate father left. They also learned that her entire family, extended family, and most of the small town she'd lived in had been wiped out during a demon incursion in 1986.

Margaretha must have had a few things to say, because Dean listened for a while, then he smiled. "We can be there tomorrow afternoon, if that works for you. Besides, didn't you call my car sexy once? Feels like your good taste earned you a ride." His smile widened. "Awesome."

So the next day, they headed for Lincoln. Margaretha was younger than they'd expected at maybe 55, and looked perfectly healthy except for the nearly translucent appearance of her skin. She was dressed in a peach pants suit and pearls, hair arranged artfully in a French twist. The facility was extremely beautiful and screamed of wealth – the Winchesters stood out a great deal, but Margaretha – smoothly introduced them as her nephews and imperiously overruled the doctor who thought a drive might be too taxing for her.

Margaretha declined the front seat, stating that it made no sense for Sam to squeeze into the back when she was a mere 5'2" and would be perfectly comfortable there. And she informed them that a few hunters had snuck onboard The Badger with EMF detectors and found no trace of their ghost, and they speculated that perhaps he'd moved on after the witch was on longer a threat. The brothers both silently hoped that was the case.

Then they were on the road. Margaretha teased Dean when he was taking a quiet cruise around the grounds, saying if he was so afraid to open in up, he should let her drive. Then, when he jumped on a deserted 2-lane highway and accelerated to 90, she gave a delighted laugh. But all too soon, she was tired, and asked them to bring her back. Tired or not, her eyes shone when she thanked them.

"Thank you so much, boys, both for handling that little issue for me, and for the visit and ride. But don't come back, okay? Just remember me like this."

The ride back was quiet. They had gained a new ally, only to know they'd be losing her pretty much immediately. She'd admitted she had only weeks left to live. Dean grabbed some food from a drive through and studied his brother out of the corner of his eye. Big brother instinct told him there was more to Sam's silence than just sadness over Margaretha. "You tired, Sam?"

"What? No. I'm good." He was, too. Nobody healed like a Winchester, and his shoulder was nearly back to normal, his ribs were just a nuisance, and his head rarely ached. And the wrist was nothing. He'd hunted with a cast before.

Dean ignored the lie, because in Winchester speak, Sam was indeed "good," but he didn't let it go there. "Well, what is it then, Rain Man? You're thinking so loud it's ruining my burger."

Sam cast him an amused look. "Really? Cuz it looks to me like you're doing just fine on eating."

"Sammy."

"It's fine, Dean. I was just thinking about that hex bag."

Dean licked ketchup from the corner of his mouth. "The one that kept Baby from starting?"

"Yeah, that just didn't make any sense to me. I mean, Michelle wanted us dead. So I couldn't figure out the end game of making the car not start. I researched what she put in there, and it was the same kind of hex that killed most of the other hunters – it would make anyone who spent time in the car bleed to death. I found nothing about those ingredients affecting anything mechanical."

Dean thought about that for a while. He knew better than to dispute Sam's conclusions. His brother was a thorough researcher, and wouldn't have shared what he'd learned until he was pretty damn sure. "So, you think the ghost, Lei whatever, messed with the car?"

"No," said Sam slowly. "That wouldn't have resolved on its own. It would have fried some circuits or something." He didn't elaborate.

"So it's either chance that Baby wouldn't start until after the danger was gone or…"

Neither man said anything for a long time, but at the next stop, Baby was filled with premium gas, and both dragged a hand along her hood when they got home. Maybe, just maybe, they had more allies than they'd realized.