All right. Last chapter. hopefully it wraps everything up all nice and tight with a pretty blue bow on top :)

Anyway, thanks again to everyone who's read and reviewed and fave'd and all that jazz. It makes me feel all warm nad fuzzy inside, and I can only hope that this final chapter makes you all warm and fuzzy inside, too. That being said...

Chapter 14

Salvation Is Here

Three Years Later

Three years. Three years and he finally had normal. He had a son who would be six years old in only a matter of months, a house in the suburbs, and a woman who wasn't his wife, but nagged him just the same. Still, something was missing.

The first few notes of 'Happy Birthday' reached his ears as something small and warm struggled up into his lap. Sam looked down at the little blond boy and smiled. William Dean Winchester. Jo had been nice enough to give up her rights to a surname.

"Daddy, you have to open my present first." Willy shouted, bouncing up and down in his father's lap.

"All right," Sam smiled, gently moving the boy to a less painful position for bouncing, "I will." He still had trouble looking at the boy and not seeing an adult curled in his mother's arms, lifeless and pale and spattered with mud. He still had trouble looking at Jo and not seeing her pinned to the wall by a demon, shaking and scared. He supposed that would take time.

Will slid off his dad's lap and into a chair of his own as his mother entered the room with a large birthday cake, complete with flaming candles. "Happy Birthday, dear Sammy," she sang, "happy birthday to you." She set the cake down in front of him and smiled. "Make a wish."

He tried to match her grin, but found it hard. Ever since his first birthday with her, he'd made the same wish, and it never came true. Still, it couldn't hurt to try.

Dean, he thought, blowing out the candles with his eyes closed.

Willy clapped his hands, still bouncing up and down, waiting for a big slice of cake. Jo took a seat next to Sam and gazed at him, concern apparent in her soft gaze. "Sammy-"

"I never thanked you, did I?" he asked. "For letting me stay here?"

"Well, I couldn't very well say no, could I? And once you told me how you found out about us…"

He nodded. He'd told her everything. He'd told her everything and had been pleasantly surprised when she'd sympathized. She'd let him in, let him know his son, let him have what he'd always thought would make him happy until Dean had sold his soul and put things in perspective. He'd never wanted normal. He'd always wanted family.

"Thanks anyway," he smiled. "We should cut the cake before Will hurts himself."

"Yeah, all right." She chuckled as she pulled the candles from the frosting and cut the first piece, sliding it onto Will's plate. "Listen," she said, dropping her voice to a whisper the way she always did when Will was in the room and she didn't want him to hear, "about what brought you here-"

"It's what Dean wanted me to do," he said, "and I think he was right. He was too late to control me before, but you… you're a different story."

"Actually," Jo said, sliding a piece of cake onto Sam's plate and biting her lower lip, "it's about Dean."

He watched her sit down, watched her stare at him. "What about him?"

"I know how much you miss him, and, honestly, I miss him, too."

"Yeah, but-"

"And I know he told you to stop trying to save him because he doesn't regret what he did. But it's killing you inside, just thinking about what he's going through."

"Every day."

She sighed, finally casting her eyes down and away from his. "So, I've been digging for you."

Sam felt his eyes get wide. "What?"

"Yeah. I talked to mom and Bobby and they went looking for help. About a year ago, one of Bobby's friends, this guy named Ronald, or Rufus, or Reggie, or something contacted me. He has a friend who does body work."

The hunter felt himself relax. For a moment, he'd been worried that Jo had done something that they would all regret, had sold something invaluable to help him. This didn't sound like a deal, though. "You're gonna have someone fix up the Impala?"

And then she confirmed his fears in a way that both worried and intrigued him. "Not that kinda body."

"What did you do?"

"This guy's a psychic healer. Bobby's heard of him, his friend swears by him. Sam, he can take a body so torn up and demolished that it isn't even recognizable anymore and make it as good as new."

"What's the price?"

"That's the thing," Jo said, "there's no price. He's one of the good guys, and he works on hunters for free."

He sighed, leaning his elbows on the table in front of him as Willy munched happily on his piece of cake. "What are you trying to tell me, Jo?"

She glanced at Will and smiled. "Grave r-o-b-b-i-n-g runs in the family. There was just one more thing."

Sam nodded. He could feel hope and faith rising within him, could remember that certainty that Dean had been right back in Cold Oak, that going to his family and making things right would be better than questing after a damned soul. Now he knew that Dean had been right. "Jo?"

"About a month ago, I got a phone call outta the blue from this chick who says she knows how to help with that last part. Apparently, she's got a darn good Ouiji board at her disposal, because nobody else I talked to had ever heard of this summoning ritual. The girl checked out, though."

"Why would she help you?" Sam asked, suddenly suspicious.

Jo shrugged. "Said you saved her life a while back and she owed you big time. Said you saved her legs or something?"

"What was her name?"

"Abbey something. Her last name started with an R, I think."

Sam smiled. "The cord wasn't severed," he muttered.

"What's that?"

"Uh, nothing. Just a helpful hint someone dropped for me once. So, what about this ritual? Was it legit?" He tried to keep the hopeful tone out of his voice, he really did, but he could hear it sneaking in. Somehow, though, he didn't care.

Jo opened her mouth to answer him, but was cut off by a loud knocking at the door. She started to stand, but Will held up his empty plate, using his inherited puppy-dog eyes to ask for more without asking.

"I'll get it," Sam offered, "we'll finish up when I get back, ok?" The woman he was living with just smiled and nodded as he left the kitchen.

The house was small, but safe; protected by Devil's Traps carved into doorframes and lines of salt hidden under paneling so that tiny fingers didn't disturb them. He walked to the front door, a little annoyed that someone had interrupted something that could potentially mean so much to him… and to Dean. Dean was the one he was really worried about.

He pulled the door open and blinked. He was hallucinating. He was absolutely sure that he was hallucinating until the hallucination spoke.

"Hey, there, Sammy. Happy birthday."

Sam blinked again at his brother, smiling as he realized that the older man was real, was alive, looked exactly as he had before those damned hounds had ripped into him. This time, when the tears burned behind his eyes, he didn't try to hold them back. "Dean?"

"In the flesh," he said, spreading his arms and grinning wide. A large blue bow had been set on top of his head, matching the dark blue t-shirt and faded jeans he was wearing. "You, uh, gonna invite me in?"

Sam sobbed, trying to think. "Um… I… there are traps and salt, and-"

Dean stepped into the house and wrapped warm, solid, strong arms around his brother. "Since when has that stopped me?"

Sam returned the hug, grasping the older man tightly until he felt something pop under his embrace. "You're not…?"

"Not after five years. Besides, someone little Abbey contacted really came through. The ritual isn't just about summoning. It's about binding. And it returns the soul to the shape it was in before getting ripped so rudely out."

"You're human?"

"Yeah. And a guy. So you can let go of me now."

Sam squeezed him tighter before letting go, then stepped back to look at his brother. "You're really here?"

"And I'm not going anywhere." Dean looked around the small entryway. "Nice digs." Jo stepped out of the kitchen, smiling. "Not so sure about the roomie, though. You totally could have done better."

"You're welcome," Jo said, crossing her arms in front of her chest as Will peeked around her legs.

"Oh," Dean cooed, smiling down at the boy, "and this must be the little shotgun… I mean, kid."

Jo scowled. "We're not married, j-a-c-k-a-s-s-."

Dean raised an eyebrow. "Come again?"

"It spells 'jackass,'" Sam whispered.

"Oh. You know what, guys? I think this is the beginning of a beautiful living arrangement."

"You are not living with us," Jo scoffed.

Sam just smiled as they argued, motioning Will over and lifting the boy in his arms. Dean was wrong. It wasn't the beginning of something, not for him. It was the end. The end of sleepless nights, of numbing days, of biting fear and loneliness. The end of Hell on Earth.

And it felt great.

The end.

Come on. Y'all knew I wasn't gonna leave the Deanster to rot for all eternity, right? I may be sadistic, but I'm not that bad!

Hope you enjoyed reading as much as I enjoyed writing. Until next time,

Michelle Shavlik