Author's Note: Welcome to the end of the story. This is the final chapter and you know, endings are tough to write. Thanks for joining me and reading the story. I hope you enjoyed it!

Sam's POV

Cas was able to teleport Dean and I back to the motel where we had been staying with Maggie. The sensation always made Dean get a stomach ache and I'd always get a little backed up. It really was like riding one of those roller coasters that goes from 0 - 60 mph in 3 seconds. I rode one like that during a summer off of college with Jess and some of our other friends. I wasn't a huge fan, but it made Jess laugh and laugh.

When we materialized in the motel room, there was only one light coming from the bathroom. I walked over to the front door, legs still a little shaky, and turned on the light switch, bathing the room with much-needed, albeit a kind of yellowish, light. Maggie was buried under a comforter, motionless.

I couldn't tell at that moment if the feeling in my stomach was nausea from the teleporting, or if it was the pit in my stomach getting a little bigger.

Dean went to her side, cupping her cheek, his face becoming all wrinkles and worry lines.

"What's going on here, Cas?" I asked.

Cas dropped his eyes from Maggie, to a spot on the floor.

"When you left, Maggie's condition continued to deteriorate. When you called for my help, it was nearly impossible for me to even keep her alive."

"Now that the demon's dead, shouldn't the deal be broken? Shouldn't she be healed?" I asked, grabbing a chair from the front table and dragging it to the opposite side of the bed from Dean. I sat in it and pulled Maggie's hand into mine, rubbing comforting circles over her knuckles.

"I'm not sure." Cas said. "It may not mean that she's healed, it may just mean she's not going to get any sicker."

"Can you heal her?" Dean asked, voice gruff.

"It will take time. This disease is complex. I can clear out as much as I can to keep her out of immediate danger, take time to recharge, then clear out more. But if the cancer is aggressive enough, it could grow back before I have finished recharging." Cas locked eyes with Dean, a tragic and apologetic look on his face.

"Well, we have to try. We owe it to her to try." Dean said.

"I agree. And-and…m-maybe we can even find some extra help? You know? Maybe a healer or a shaman? Or another angel who could help?" I offered.

"That's true. You don't have to try to do this all on your own, Cas. Maybe we can stay ahead of it with outside help." Dean reiterated.

Cas considered the words and nodded.

"Alright. Well. I'm going to start the first round now…" Dean moved from Maggie's side to the foot of the bed, watching helplessly. I kept a firm hold on her hand.

Cas rolled up his sleeve before placing his open hand over Maggie's still face. A high pitched ringing and a bright light emanated from Cas and Maggie. Cas moved his hand down Maggie's body, hovering over her and pausing in specific spots. After a few moments, he removed his hand with a gasp, swaying on his feet. Dean was by his side, helping him to a chair.

"You okay?" he asked.

Cas was heaving in lungfuls of air. "Yes. Just…. Just tired. I'm fine." He waved Dean off once he was seated. All three of us were were glued to Maggie, now. Watching and waiting for something to happen. After a few moments, Maggie's eyes fluttered and opened and she took in a breath of air through her nose. She took a moment to try to sit up as she glanced around the room.

"Hi." She said, voice a bit hoarse.

"Hi," I said, smiling back at her. She gave my hand a squeeze.

"How you feeling, kiddo?" Dean asked, a soft smile on his face as well.

She took a moment to think about her answer.

"I'm still tired. Sore. Like, everything aches. I'm a little nauseated, too. Wait," she pulled her hand from mine and rubbed her forehead. "What happened with Randy? Did you find him?"

"We did." Dean explained how Randy summoned a demon. He explained how the demon tricked Randy and lied to him repeatedly, how Randy was so desperate to break his family curse and how the demon used that to manipulate and lie. He explained how her family's deaths were the result of the demon. The result of Randy agreeing to kill her and her whole family.

Maggie seemed to grow paler, if that was even possible, as Dean explained everything. When Dean finished, tears started to spill out of Maggie's eyes. I reached over to the nightstand for a box of tissues and offered them to her wordlessly. She wiped her face and took several shuddering breaths.

"I can't believe he would do that. So, is it over? Is the demon dead?" She asked, voice shaky.

"Cas killed the demon for us," I said, nodding towards Cas, who was still sitting in a chair by Dean.

"And what about Randy?" Maggie asked, eyes glued to the comforter.

I sighed, "The demon teleported him away…"

"What if he tries to do something like this again?" Maggie questioned, voice soft.

Dean chimed in again, "Maggie? We are never going to let that stupid son of a bitch hurt you ever again, ok? We will find him. And I will end him, if that's what you want me to do." He put a comforting hand on her shoulder. She nodded, biting her lip.

"There's a part of me that wants to talk to him. I want to understand why. But, I think he's truly lost it."

"I don't think seeing him would be a good idea." I said. "You're right. He's lost it. He's a danger to you. And, since he's lost it, I don't know that whatever explanation he offered would even make sense."

She nodded again, another tear slipping down her cheek.

"I just…. I think I just need sleep."

Maggie turned onto her side and pulled the comforter around her shoulders. I could see that she was shutting down, shutting us out.

"Wait, wait, wait." I said, gently pulling on her shoulder back towards me. "There's one more thing."

Her face fell and she almost let out a sob of frustration.

"Listen, even though the demon deal is broken, you still have to recover from your cancer. You shouldn't get any sicker, but it's going to be a long road ahead of you."

"Ok…" she said.

"I just… I just wanted…." God, why were words so hard sometimes? "I just wanted to say… I know things seem dark right now. You've lost… everything. But you need to keep fighting, Maggie. Always. Because if you give up, there's no amount of grace that Cas can use that will help. We're here for you." I gestured between Dean, Cas, and myself.

"Whatever you need, we're here. We'll be your family. For as long as you need us to be."

"He's right, kiddo." Dean said. "Family don't end in blood. We got you."

"Thank you…" she said, tears evidently pooling in her eyes. "That means a lot."

"Of course." I said.

"Is it ok if I sleep now?" She said, a slight chuckle following her words.

We all gave out a little chuckle and I said, "Yes, of course."

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Maggie's POV

Snow crunched loudly beneath my worn hiking boots. It was one of those nose-hair freezing, crystal clear, winter nights. A snow storm had hammered the Northeastern part of the country no more than 2 days ago before the temperatures plummeted well below freezing. Moonlight shimmered off of the frozen, untouched snow that covered the field ahead of me. I pulled my scarf tighter around my neck as I continued to trudge onward towards my destination.

Finally, the cabin I had been searching for for the last month came into view. A tip from another hunter had pointed me to this secluded area in northern Maryland.

It was impossible to be as stealthy as I wanted to be. The snow crunched no matter what I did. The stillness of the evening made every crack under my feet sound like a crinkling bag of potato chips echoing in a music hall during a violin solo.

It would just mean I'd have to move quickly, despite my stiff, frozen joints.

Without hesitation, I used the lock pick set Sam and Dean had gifted me for my birthday weeks ago and I pushed into the cabin, pistol drawn, eyes searching for my target. I moved swiftly through the small cabin, though there weren't many rooms to check.

I found him, passed out drunk in front of a dying fireplace in the main living area. Clenching my jaw, I kicked a glass bottle hard across the room. It shattered when it made contact with the leg of the kitchen table.

He woke up, then, bleary eyed and spooked from the shattering glass.

I watched as his eyes got big, taking in the person standing in front of him, the moment he realized he was in danger when he saw the pistol in my hand, aiming at his face.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa. Hang on a second!" He sat up slowly, putting his hands up, in an attempt to placate me.

"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't end you right now." I muttered, slowly.

"I-I-I I'm sorry, ok?! God, I'm so sorry! I know that's not enough. It will never be enough. But, please don't hurt me!"

"You took EVERYTHING from me. And why? Because I didn't love you? What was going to happen when we got into a fight, huh? Were you going to hit me again?!" My voice rose, the anger I felt rushing out through my tone of voice. I took a few, steadying breaths.

"I'm getting help, alright?!" He shouted, finally. Tears were streaming down his face. "I know I messed up. I know… I know I'm messed up, ok? But, I'm trying. I have a therapist. Her name's Lucy. I see her twice a month. I-I-I even have a psychiatrist. They've prescribed me medication and it helps."

He's stammering his way through his explanation, nervousness evident in his shaking hands and trembling voice.

This wasn't going how I'd imagined it would. I expected him to be a threat. I expected him to be angry or vengeful. I kind of expected a half-assed apology or attempt at reconciliation. But… therapy?! Today was a surprising day.

"Please, please don't hurt me."

My hands were shaking so much from the adrenaline rushing through my system, shaking the pistol in my hands. I let out a frustrated groan.

"You hurt my family." I reiterated, tears streaming down my face.

"I know." He was on his knees now.

"You hurt me."

"I'm so sorry."

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Dean's POV

Uncle Bobby once said, "Every hunter's story has to start somewhere." Or something along those lines. The words were spoken after a nasty encounter with African Dream Root. Bobby had been living in a nightmare in his head and I had learned about his wife. It was sad and tragic and heartbreaking. When I think about how Sam and I got into hunting - about any hunter's story that we'd heard before - they were all sad and tragic, and heartbreaking.

Just like Maggie's story.

It doesn't happen often that people become hunters. Most folks just want to forget about us. They want to forget that they ever learned that the monsters under the bed are real. People want to distract themselves with a false sense of safety. Hunters are a different kind of breed, though. They take all that hurt and grief and instead of running from it, they run towards the thing that caused it. Usually armed and dangerous and with the intent to kill.

It took weeks - no, scratch that - months for Maggie to be fully healed by Castiel. During that time, Maggie stayed with Sam and me, reading our lore books and using Sam's laptop to conduct research and learn all there was to learn about the things that go bump in the night.

Once she was feeling better, she insisted on Sam and me teaching her self defense. She wanted to learn how to shoot a gun and how to use a knife in combat. Each day, we acquiesced because we had hoped that it would make her feel safe again. Maybe she could feel like she had control over something in her life.

When she said she wanted to find Randy, said she wanted to end him, something tugged at my chest. She wanted revenge, not security.

Sam and I sat down with her and tried to talk her out of it. And listen, it's not because I don't think the guy deserves it. But taking someone's life… that is a burden to carry in and of itself. It changes a person. Once she started on this path, there really wasn't any escape.

Despite our protestations, she was hell-bent on finding him. She gave us an ultimatum. We could help her, support her, like friends are supposed to do. Or, she'd do it by herself. Alone.

Maggie had wiggled her way into our world. She was like a little sister that Sam and I never got to have. We'd watch horror movies together and tell stupid jokes and sing loudly to the radio in the Impala. She'd nag us about eating real food on occasion and doing our laundry. The thought of losing her was honestly, scary.

So, we tracked Randy down to a small cabin in the woods. It was winter, but Maggie wasn't deterred. I wanted to go all the way to the cabin, but she insisted that she do this part by herself.

We sat in the Impala, pretending to read or sleep for her to get a ten minute head start before we followed behind her.

Sam and I trudged through the frozen forest for some time before we arrived at the cabin.

We were maybe a few hundred yards away when we heard the sound of a gunshot ring through the silent night.

I stopped for a moment, eyes closed, sighing deeply.

When we got to her, she was in shock. I took the pistol from her shaking hands and pushed her into a wooden chair facing away from Randy's body. I rubbed my hands up and down her shoulders, then lightly patted her cheeks, trying whatever I could to ground her to reality.

"Maggie…. Maggie?" I called her name.

Sam had gone back out into the night, no doubt to start gathering wood for a pyre. The ground would be too frozen to dig a grave.

It took a few minutes, but Maggie came back to herself.

She kept repeating to herself, "It's over….it's over….it's over."

"It is over, that's right, Maggie. It's done. We can go home now." I had gripped her hand tightly in mine and used the other to push a lock of temperamental hair behind her ears.

A tear slipped from her eyes.

I gave her hand another squeeze.

"I'm ok." She said, eyes finally looking at me and not through me.

"Yeah?" I asked her, gazing into her eyes for confirmation.

She met my gaze and nodded, "Yeah. I really am."

"Ok. Wanna help Sam?" I asked.

She nodded, taking a deep breath and letting it out before untangling her hand from mine and wandering out into the cold.

As soon as she left, I walked through the cabin towards the bathroom to find some bleach and other clearing supplies. The bathroom was off of the bedroom. After I'd gathered what I needed, headed back towards the living room, I caught sight of something in Randy's closet.

I pushed the closet door open with my foot and pulled the lamp string, bathing the small room with light.

On the back wall of the closet were occult symbols, articles pinned to the wall, strings attaching tacks holding newspaper clippings to tacks marking a spot on a map. An old, black book sat open on a makeshift altar and Dean noticed the sigils on the page.

"Son of a bitch."

Randy had not stopped at all. He wasn't getting better. His obsession was growing about something surely supernatural and absolutely dangerous and you know what? Maggie really did the world a favor.

I'll show her this.

Hopefully, if she had any doubts about what she did, they would dissipate when she realizes that she probably saved someone's life.

My eyes landed on two pictures hanging in the upper right corner in the closet. Two beautiful young women.

Maggie probably saved their lives.

She should know.

Because this is the family business. Saving people. Hunting things.

And she's family now.