Well, this is the final chapter. No plans for a sequel, though I am halfway through my next story, called "The One."

I'd really like to thank everyone who's been reading and reviewing and making me feel all warm and fuzzy inside. You guys rock!

Well, here it is:

Dean gently nudged his daughter's shoulder, pulling her from a light slumber as they pulled into their neighborhood. "We're home," he whispered as she stretched and yawned.

"What time is it?"

"Way too early," he smirked.

"You drove all night?"

Dean shook his head. "I dozed."

She socked him in the shoulder. "Dork."

He grinned. "Dipwad."

The Impala's headlights swept over their driveway, illuminating a car and a tall figure leaning up against it. "What the fu-" he glanced down at Jaye, who was watching him with expectant eyes, "uh, Friday. It's Friday, darn it, we missed 'Grey's' reruns again."

"Nice save," the teen nodded, "but I know what you were gonna say."

Dean rolled his eyes as the car pulled to a stop and he opened the door, walking up to the tall stranger and wrapping his arms around the man. "Thought you were headed to school," he said as Sam pulled out of the awkward hug and Jaydin joined them.

Sammy shrugged. "Nah. I missed you guys and your dysfunctional-ness too much."

"Dysfunctional-ness?" Jaye asked, "and you got into Stanford?"

"Full-ride, sweetheart. You sound surprised."

"It's not like I'm doubting your smartitude or anything," the girl grinned, "but with a vocabulary like that you should have gotten your persqueeter kicked on tests."

Dean cocked an eyebrow. "For the record, that last one was mine. She stole it."

Sam nodded. "Don't worry, we all know you're the king of making up words."

"All I want is a little recognition," the older man grinned as he went back to the car to grab their bags.

"So, you're really staying?" Jaye asked as she expertly ignored her father's exaggerated grunts of pain as he pretended to struggle with the bags.

"I am," Sam confirmed, "I think it's time to finally settle down for good."

"Great," Dean said through gritted teeth as he staggered to the front door, "'cause we kept your room exactly the way you like it. Freakishly clean."

"You're too kind."

o0o0o0o0o0o

"She really is a pretty girl," Sammy commented as he and his brother looked in on Jaye, who had finally been forced to go to bed and get some sleep.

Dean nodded. "I'm gonna have a lot of trouble with boys, huh?"

"Especially if she's anything like you."

The older man shuddered. "Don't even talk like that."

The brothers turned away from the open door and headed back to the living room. "So," Dean asked as they headed down the stairs, "what made you want to come back?"

Sam shrugged. "I dunno, man. I missed you guys. It gets lonely out on that road."

"Yeah. And it had nothing to do with that little breakdown of mine you happened to witness in the parking lot, huh?"

"You knew I was there?"

"You are many things, Sam, but stealthy isn't one of them. Want a beer?"

"Yeah. So, what exactly was that about? In the lot, I mean. You seemed upset. Just standing there until…"

"Until I let forth that primal scream that scared you so much you wet yourself?" Dean asked, walking out of the kitchen with a couple of bottles of beer.

"I was gonna say until you wailed like a banshee, but if you heard something different…"

The older man smirked, plopping down on the couch. "I dunno. You heard the demon. All that schmaltz about love. I guess for a while there I thought something might work out."

Sam nodded. "And it didn't?"

"You hear her yell at me?"

"And then it got freakishly quiet, yeah. Jaye thought you were dead."

"I thought she was gonna kill me, too."

The men sat in silence for a moment, staring straight ahead, waiting for the moment to pass. When it didn't, Dean spoke up again. "I guess I thought maybe it was wrong. Maybe whatever it did wouldn't wear off if I killed it. Or maybe she'd come to her senses and realize she'd been wrong about me. Maybe she'd actually fall in love with me. Crazy, right?"

"Not really," Sam said, shaking his head, "just human. And that's a good thing, given our line of work."

"Your line of work, maybe," Dean grinned, "I wrangle kids at a day care."

"We're both dealing with monsters," the younger man pointed out, "mine have claws and fangs, and yours have sticky fingers and crap in their pants. It's easy to lose your emotional side in that environment."

"Whatever," Dean laughed, settling back onto the couch and propping his feet up on a coffee table as the day's chick-flick's credits began to roll.

o0o0o0o0o

Dean was roused from a light slumber by a knocking at the door. He looked over to find Sam asleep with his mouth open, half-finished bottle of beer still held in his hand. Slowly, the older man pushed himself off the couch and moved toward the door.

"Whatever you're selling," he began as he wrenched open the door, "we're not… Ellen?"

"Hi, Dean."

The hunter rubbed his eyes and blinked, not really believing what he was seeing. Ellen was standing on his front stoop, her eyes down, foot tapping nervously. "What are you doing here?"

"I was thinking," she said softly, "that it's really not right to make Jaye choose. She's always wanted a mother, but it was wrong of me to want to take her from you after thirteen years of trying to keep you both away. I can't come back after saying that I didn't want her and expect you to just give her away."

"Yeah?"

She nodded. "Yeah. I'm sorry. I was thinking that, if it was all right with you, maybe I could stay here for a while. Try to work things out."

"After everything?"

"That wasn't your fault."

"What?" he asked, his jaw almost hitting the floor.

"I did some thinking. I've kind of been a bitch." She looked up at him. "If you don't want anything to do with me, I understand, but I would like to be part of my daughter's life."

Dean stared down at her, surprised to find sincerity on her face. "Your bags in the car?"

Ellen smiled. "Yeah, yeah. You want me to get them?"

"No, it's all right. Head on in, just be kind of quiet. Everyone's asleep."

"Everyone?"

"Sam's here, too," Dean grinned as he headed out to the cars, "I guess you guys are gonna have to fight over the guest room."

She chuckled as she walked into the living room and looked around. Sam was passed out on the couch with a bottle of beer in one hand. There were pictures of the family spread around the room, and a dead plant sat on top of the TV.

"You know," Sam muttered, shocking her, "if you hurt him again-"

"I won't. Not this time."

He smirked. "Why don't I believe you?"

Ellen opened her mouth to reply as the front door banged shut and Dean stumbled into the room. "As you can see," he smiled, "Sammy's a little incapacitated at the moment, which means you can have the guest room for now. I still want to see you two duke it out over who gets it long-term, though. Might even sell tickets."

She nodded. "Thanks."

"No problem," he shrugged, "can I just ask you one thing, though? What are you gonna tell Jo about this?"

"That was two questions," she pointed out, "and Jo's been taken care of. I actually told her the truth before I left."

"Oh? And, uh, how'd she react."

"She called me a whore and threw me out."

"Ouch."

"Could have been worse," Ellen shrugged as they headed up the stairs, "so, you've only got one extra room?"

"Yep."

"Where's your room?"

"Opposite end of the hall from the guest room," Dean replied, "Jaye's room is in-between. I can give you the tour after I get some sleep. Drove all night to get home, you know."

She nodded. "What size bed do you have?"

"In the guest room?"

"No. Yours."

"Um, it's a queen. Old habits are hard to break, I guess."

"So, two people could fit into it?"

"Sure," he shrugged, dropping the bags as they reached the top of the staircase, "why?"

Ellen smiled, reaching out tentatively and brushing a hand down his arm. Dean stared at her, reading her, knowing suddenly what she meant. He wanted to believe it, he really did, but he'd learned. Nothing good ever came easy, and he wasn't about to make the same mistake again.

He grinned, picking up the bags and turning to walk down the hall. "The guest room's this way," he said, nodding off toward the closed door, "I think you'll like it."

The End.

So, any final opinions?