Just want to thank those of you who have stuck with this story. You have allowed me to release an idea that I'd had for a long time and I thank you for it. I hope you've enjoyed reading it as much as I've enjoyed writing it.
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(Disclaimer: Don't own anything. Story's mine)
Battle Weary.
Epilogue.
Six months later…
Sam sat in another crappy chair, at another crappy table in another crappy motel, in another crappy town, swirling even crappier coffee in a chipped, coffee-stained cup. He watched the disgusting liquid whirlpool around the mug, his mind seeming to circle with it. He looked over, Dean was crashed out on one of the beds, still fully clothed. He hadn't even removed his boots. Sam put the mug down, rose quietly from the chair and went to his brother. He gently removed his boots, grabbed a blanket from his bed, covering Dean before slumping back in the chair in front of the laptop.
They'd been on the move for a long time, hunting what they could and occasionally testing out their new ability. But their main focus was held somewhere else...trying to keep a promise they'd made six months ago.
Sam went over to Dean's duffel bag and removed the photo, he took it back to the laptop and removed the two pieces of paper from their father's journal. It was here…the answer was here. Somewhere between the drawing of the necklace, the letter that had been left at Gus' and the photo, the photo that had changed again.
The photo of him, Dean and Jay, somewhere in the middle of the desert, leaning against her car, beers in hand, swords across their backs.