Chapter 4
I See Fire

As Lisa had expected, Ben was home when Cas and the Winchesters returned. Unfortunately, so were Ben's friend and his mom, both of whom were taken aback by the sudden appearance of four big men in Lisa's kitchen. The fact that Sam was still shirtless and that he, Dean, and Cas still had their swords out only added to the shock factor.

And it didn't help that the first words out of Ben's mouth were, "You went on a hunt without me?!"

"No," Dean said at the same time Sam said, "It wasn't like that, Ben."

Ben's disappointment didn't lessen. "You said—"

"We told you the truth," Dean interrupted. "Something came up yesterday. It wasn't a hunt—but it wouldn't have mattered if it were. You're not becoming a hunter, understand me?"

"Dean..."

"You can finish this discussion later," Lisa said firmly. "You guys want to take this out to the garage?"

"We'll need a glass," said Henry.

"Top right cabinet."

As Henry found a tumbler the right size, Ben frowned. "The garage?"

Dean put a hand on Ben's shoulder. "C'mon. I'll make it up to you."

"I don't understand," Ben objected but let Dean steer him to the door to the garage, following the others.

"You wanted to know what we were doing." Dean waited until the door was closed behind him before continuing. "Actually, we need you to do it, too."

Ben looked like he didn't know whether to be scared or intrigued. "What is it?"

"Y'know our anti-possession tattoos?"

Ben nodded. And our had been the right word—Lisa had gotten the tattoo herself just a few days after Dean moved in, but Ben was too young, so Lisa had found a way to make temporary tattoos using the computer and helped Ben reapply the sigil each time one wore off. To date, though, Ben had been more interested in the cool factor than in the protection.

"Well, there are some things it won't keep out," Dean stated. "But Cas just found a ritual that'll protect you from the inside against those things."

"Oh. Cool. Does that mean I won't need the tattoo anymore, though?"

"I don't know how general the protection will be," Cas admitted. "It would be prudent to continue to wear the tattoo."

"Okay. But—what about Mom? Doesn't she need to do it, too?"

Dean was spared from answering right away by the sound of car doors slamming, an engine starting, and tires squealing as Ben's friend's mom peeled out of the driveway.

Sam sighed. "There goes that friendship. We're sorry, Ben."

"Don't be," Ben said with a shrug. "Trevor's moving next month anyway to go live with his grandparents in Oklahoma, so we already kind of said our goodbyes. And I'll still see him at school until then."

Sam huffed and started to put his shirt back on.

But Ben looked back at Dean. "What about Mom?"

Dean shook his head. "Your mom's not in danger."

"Why not? Is it 'cause she's a chick?"

Henry looked mildly shocked.

Dean bent down to look Ben in the eye. "Your mother's not a chick or a girl. She's a woman or a lady. Got that?"

Ben grimaced. "Yes, sir."

"And no, it's not because she's a woman. She's—it's—" Dean swallowed hard and broke eye contact.

"These creatures target specific bloodlines," Henry supplied.

Ben's eyes flew saucer-wide.

Dean moved his hand to Ben's cheek and looked him in the eye again. "You get it now... son?"

Ben swallowed hard and nodded. "Yes, sir."

Dean couldn't suppress a flinch at that. He'd never wanted to be enough like Dad to get that reaction from his kids. But there was another way he could be unlike Dad, he realized suddenly. "Oh, and..." He turned Ben around to face Henry. "This is your great-grandfather."

Ben's mouth fell open. "Wha-huh?"

Henry smiled. "I know it's a little hard to believe, Ben, but it's true. Time travel sometimes has unpredictable results. But I'm pleased to meet you."

Automatically, almost robotically, Ben held out his hand. "Nice to meet you, too."

Henry's smile brightened as he shook Ben's hand. "I see your parents are doing a fine job."

Ben blinked. "Uh—"

Dean took a deep breath and stood up straight. "Okay, Cas, you ready with that yet?"

Cas gave him a knowing look, nodded, and handed Dean the potion. "Yes."

"All right, Ben." Dean handed the glass to Ben, drawing his attention away from Henry. "Cas has to recite some stuff. When I do this"—here he pointed to Ben—"drink that as fast as you can."

Ben nodded once. "Got it."

"Then Cas has to put something here and here." Dean pointed to the spots on his own head and chest. "It'll hurt, but just for a second."

Ben swallowed hard and nodded again. "Okay."

"Ready?"

"Ready."

Dean kept his full attention on Ben as Cas began the ritual again. And Ben didn't miss a beat when Dean cued him to drink the potion, barely even made a face at its aftertaste, and only gasped when Cas placed the sigils.

When it was over, Cas took the glass, and Dean rubbed Ben's shoulder. "You okay, son?" Somehow the name didn't trip his tongue this time.

And either Ben didn't mind, or he was too overwhelmed for it to register. He just nodded.

"You did good. Real good."

That got a relieved sigh and a bit of a smile.

"C'mon. Let's go talk to Mom."

Ben nodded and let Dean pull him into a side hug as they went back into the kitchen. Dean tossed his sword and the car keys to Sam, who caught both easily, but didn't even look at Henry. Ben needed him and Lisa both right now—and the three of them needed to get their story straight before Henry provoked any more awkward interruptions.

Henry waited until the kitchen door was closed to let out a contemptuous snort.

Sam paused in the middle of putting the swords back in the Impala's trunk and frowned. "What?"

Henry turned to look at him. "Did he really think I wouldn't figure out that he and Lisa are living in sin? I suppose I should have expected as much from a hunter."

Sam slammed the trunk shut. "And whose fault is that?"

That startled Henry. "Sam—"

"No, you listen. Dad raised us as hunters because he didn't know of any other way to avenge Mom. Now, if there's one thing in this world Dean has ever wanted for himself, it's a home with a family. Dad knew that; he wanted Dean to have it, too. But for Dad, killing the demon came first, before us, before anything. That meant we had to live on the run because he thought if we stayed in one place too long, the demon would find us before Dad could find it. So Dean grew up thinking he couldn't have more than a random hookup now and then. He didn't even know about Ben until a couple years ago, and if we hadn't been in the middle of a war, he might have settled down and married Lisa then. He still might make it official, if she wants. But you know what? He's here. If we've got Raphael stopped, Dean's going to stay here. He's taking care of his family first, which is a hell of a lot more than Dad could say for you." And Sam picked up his boots and stormed toward the kitchen door.

"Sam, wait—"

Sam didn't wait. He walked inside and slammed the door behind him. Only then did he think to point out that Dad must have come by his hunt-first attitude honestly, but there was no point in going back to add that. Henry was already talking with Cas, although their voices were too quiet for Sam to make out what they were saying.

"What?" Dean asked from the couch.

"Henry," Sam growled, resuming his trek toward the living room. "He figured it out. Said he should have expected as much from a hunter." He rolled his eyes.

Lisa sagged back in the recliner with a sigh. "I'm sorry, guys. I was planning to get Ben up to speed before you got back, but Trevor's mom just would not leave."

Dean shook his head and rubbed Ben's shoulder. "Not your fault, Lis."

Sam dropped his boots beside the couch and sat down on the other side of Ben, rubbing his forehead to try to stave off the headache he felt trying to come on. He really was feeling a lot better after the morning's ordeal, lighter and not nearly as fragile, but he hadn't gotten this mad since... well, since Brady, probably. His brain wasn't used to the stress.

"Sam?" Dean prompted.

Sam shook his head. "I'll be all right."

"Sam."

"It's just a headache, Dean. I'm fine."

"When's the last time your headaches were just headaches?"

Sam was about to retort when the pain spiked suddenly and his vision swam. The room spun, darkened—

They were in some kind of warehouse or packing plant. Abaddon, in the same host but in biker chick clothes, had Sam captive, and his hands were tied. Then Henry and Dean walked in, and it looked like Henry's hands were also tied or cuffed behind his back. Henry and Dean snarked at each other, though Sam couldn't quite hear what they said. Then Dean called out to Abaddon, offering to trade Henry and the box for Sam. Abaddon agreed, and though Dean had to threaten Henry with his gun, Henry started walking. So did Sam.

"Henry, I'm sorry," Sam said as they passed each other.

"Save it," Henry snapped and kept going.

Sam tried to plead with Dean not to go through with the exchange, but Dean just cut his bonds and started to drag him out of the room. But the door suddenly slammed shut.

"We had a deal!" Dean cried as they turned back to Abaddon.

She smirked. "Surprise. I lied." And she plunged her hand into Henry's abdomen.

"NO!"

Dean shook Sam's shoulders, snapping him back to the present, to reality. "Sammy!"

Sam was breathing hard even as he grounded himself by looking Dean in the eye. "No... no, it's... it's not true, it didn't happen, it can't happen, Abaddon's dead!"

Dean's hands tightened on Sam's shoulders. "Abaddon? What about Abaddon?"

"It's not real!"

"Talk to me. What did you see?"

"She killed Henry."

Dean frowned in alarm.

"She'd captured me to force a trade, me for Henry and the key. I tried to tell you not to, but... but it was too late." Sam felt tears running down his cheeks.

"You were actin' like it was a vision."

"It felt like one—but—but Abaddon's dead." Sam shook his head in confusion. "I can't hate him that much, can I, to hallucinate something like that? I mean, I was mad, but..."

"That was no hallucination, Sam," Cas said from behind Dean. "I believe it may have happened... just not in this timeline."

Dean turned and frowned up at Cas. "What the hell are you talking about?"

Cas sighed. "There was a future in which the two of you were driven apart, and Dean died. I promised Sam I would ensure it didn't come to pass."

Sam blinked. "So you're saying... I'm seeing things that might have been?"

"I don't know why, but yes, that does appear to be the case."

Sam slumped back against the back of the couch, unsure what to think or feel or anything.

Dean squeezed his shoulders again. "Hey. You said it yourself. It can't happen now."

Sam met his eyes again, needing his big brother's assurance. "But what if—"

"No. No what ifs. We do what we've always done. We make our own destiny. And that includes Henry."

"I don't want him to die."

"Neither do I," Henry said quietly from beside the couch. "But I'd rather die for blood than for anyone else."

Sam looked up at him, sniffled, and held out his hand.

Henry took it. "I'm sorry, Sam."

"Me, too."

Henry squeezed Sam's hand for a moment, then let go as he took a deep breath and turned to Dean. "Look, I've disrupted your family long enough. I've asked Castiel to take me back to Sioux Falls; I'll stay with Bobby for a while, try to get my feet under me, figure out where to go from here."

Dean nodded slowly. "All right. Keep in touch."

"I will." Henry paused. "And Dean... if there's a wedding... I'll come. I-if you'll let me."

Dean glanced at Lisa briefly, then nodded once as he looked at Henry again. "You and Bobby will be the first to know."

Henry smiled. "Thanks."

Then he and Cas were gone, and Dean handed Sam a Kleenex to wipe the tears off his face. Nobody said anything, and probably nobody knew what to say.

Until Ben finally piped up with, "What wedding?"

All the adults laughed, and Dean hugged Ben.

Sam disappeared into his room after lunch, which Dean assumed meant that he was either taking a nap or giving Dean and Lisa space to have the long talk they needed to have about the future (or both). So they did have that long talk and involved Ben in it, and while they didn't actually reach any conclusions, they did at least clear the air and figure out what they needed to be pondering as a family moving forward. But when Dean realized that it was after 4 and Sam still hadn't come downstairs, he went up to check on Sam—and found him lying awake, staring at the ceiling with tears streaming down his face.

"Hey," Dean said, walking in and sitting down on the edge of the bed. "What's with you?"

Sam didn't look at him. "You want me to go, don't you?"

Dean blinked. "What? No. Go where?"

"Away. Move in with Henry or... something."

"Where the hell did this come from?"

Sam's sigh seemed to come from his toes.

"I mean it, Sammy. Where'd you get the idea I want you to leave?"

"You and Lisa are getting married—"

"Maybe. Nothing's settled yet."

"—and Ben's your son, and... that's what you've always wanted."

"So?"

"You and Lisa, you have something, you're building something."

"And?"

"And... you don't..."

"Want you? Need you? Like having you around? C'mon, man."

"Dean... you don't need to keep dealing with... whatever this is. I mean, if Cas is right, then maybe I'm not really crazy—"

"We'll see about that. We broke the link, but I'm bettin' Lucifer still did a number on your noggin."

"But Ben's about to start back to school, and... you've got work, and..."

"Hey. Look at me."

Sam finally dragged his eyes over to meet Dean's.

"Last year, when you came back, after Garber. You remember what I told you?"

"We keep each other human," Sam replied so quietly Dean could barely hear him.

Dean nodded. "And what did Cas say happened in that other timeline?"

"We were dri—" Sam's eyes widened, and he sat bolt upright. "That dream. The Mark of Cain. That really happened."

Dean frowned. "Do you remember any more of the details?"

Sam shook his head as he looked away, brow furrowed in concentration. "Not much. Something to do with Metatron, somebody called Gadreel, somebody called Kevin, and—" He locked eyes with Dean again. "Abaddon. You thought you needed the Mark to kill Abaddon."

"Okay, well, Abaddon's dead, so..."

"B-but you took it because... because you thought I hated you." Sam started crying again. "I was mad, and I hurt you, and you thought I wouldn't care enough to save your life."

"I must have pretty damn messed up to think that."

Sam's only answer was a sniffle, but he didn't break eye contact.

"But that proves what I said, doesn't it? We keep each other human. If us being apart would end with me turning into a demon..."

"Then if we stay together, you won't?"

Dean nodded. "Makes sense."

"But you've got Lisa."

"Lisa. Isn't. You."

Sam did break eye contact at that and ducked his head.

"Seriously, dude. Did you love me or Dad any less just because you loved Jess?"

"No," Sam admitted in that barely-audible voice.

"So why would I love you any less because I love Lisa and Ben?"

Sam sniffled again.

"C'mere." Dean pulled Sam into a hug and just held him for a moment.

"I don't want to be in the way," Sam whispered. "I don't want to be a third wheel."

"You're not. That's one of the things we talked about, me and Lisa. Stay as long as you want—hell, as long as you need. We still gotta figure out how things have changed after this morning, right, what's been fixed and what hasn't?"

"I'm doing better."

Dean let go. "Like hell you are. And I don't mean the visions. I'm talkin' about the PTSD and the depression and all that, the stuff that's got nothing to do with demon blood and possession."

"Well, it hasn't even been a day—"

"Exactly. It's too soon. Now, if we see the shrink next month and she says you're okay and you still want to move in with Henry, then we can talk. But until then, you're staying, and that's final."

Sam's eyes finally regained a bit of a sparkle. "You gonna give me an ultimatum, Dad?"

Dean snorted. "You faceplant off the curb, that's all the ultimatum you're gonna need."

Sam huffed, but he smiled in spite of himself.

"We good?"

Sam nodded. "Yeah. We're good."

Dean nodded back. "Okay, c'mon. I think Lisa's fixin' to go get Chinese."

Sam smiled, small but genuine, and followed Dean downstairs.

The next few months were a time of major adjustment for everyone. Sam's hallucinations all but vanished, though the visions didn't, and the panic attacks only diminished. So it was October before the psychiatrist declared that Sam was fine to come in every other month instead of once a month. He wasn't clear to drive yet, and might not ever be if the visions kept coming, but he was dying to get out of the house and out of Dean and Lisa's hair, even though they told him time and again that his presence really wasn't an imposition. So Dean armed him with a new cell phone and called Cas to take him to Bobby's. Sam called faithfully every night to check in, and after a week in Sioux Falls, he reported that he and Henry were going to the Men of Letters' bunker to look up some stuff for Cas and start digitizing the library.

But somehow Dean wasn't surprised when the knock at the door late on November 1 turned out to be a shame-faced Sam with his duffle over his shoulder.

"'M sorry, Dean," Sam said quietly. "I... I couldn't."

"Do I look mad?" Dean replied and ushered Sam into the house.

"I just... Mom and Jess..."

"Dude, you do not need to explain. I already took tomorrow and Wednesday off." Dean closed the door and locked it.

Sam blinked at him. "You did?"

Dean nodded. "Just... have a feelin' it's gonna be bad this year. 'Specially since... Carthage."

Sam's breath hitched. "I forgot that was coming up, too. Damn."

Lisa cleared her throat. "I hate to have to point this out, but tomorrow night is a school night. So if you guys are planning on drinking..."

"We'll stay out of your hair," Dean promised and kissed her. "You and Ben probably won't even know we're here. We can hole up in Sam's room."

Sam's breath hitched again. "It's—still my room?"

"Well, hell, you still need a place to stay when you go see the shrink, don't you?"

Sam's eyes were suspiciously bright as he sniffled and tried to laugh. "Yeah, I guess I do."

Dean tried to smile, but instead he found himself sighing as he put a hand on Sam's shoulder and looked him in the eye. "I'm glad you're here."

Sam's smile dimmed under the weight of everything Dean wasn't saying but was no less genuine for its sadness. "Me, too."

Dean squeezed Sam's shoulder, turned back to Lisa, and asked, "You mind if—" at the same time she began, "You wanna—" That touched off a round of half-hearted chuckles from all three of them.

"I can check the wards," she said then. "You guys go on up. I'll be right there."

Dean nodded and patted Sam's shoulder. "C'mon, Sammy."

Sam bumped shoulders with Dean on their way up the stairs. Dean bumped back and thought his heart might burst for gratitude that of all the things he'd lost, all the people he'd lost, at least Sam had come back to him.

Despite his foreboding, however, the brothers held it together fairly well for most of the day on the 2nd. That was probably due mainly to Dean insisting that Sam tell him all about the bunker, describe it in detail, talk him through the books they'd scanned so far and how much else they had to go through. Sam even volunteered the information that one of the books had held a teleportation spell, something that sounded kind of like a portkey (though Sam used the term first, so Dean got to harass him about it). It wasn't something Sam could use on a daily basis, but once or twice a month would evidently be okay. That was a relief to both of them; it meant Sam wouldn't have to be housebound indefinitely, even if he never drove again.

No, the heaviness of the day didn't really descend until after Lisa put Ben to bed and said she'd be going on to bed herself.

Dean shook his head. "Lis, you don't—"

She held up a hand. "I won't intrude on your grief. Maybe next year we'll be in a place where I can share it, but right now... I think you need Sam more than you need me."

He hugged her and rubbed her back. "Make it up to you tomorrow?"

"You don't have to," she whispered and kissed him. "But we can see."

He kissed her back and watched with a sigh as she went upstairs. Then after a moment of staring at nothing, he went to the pantry and got out the Jack. Sam got glasses, and Dean poured before they sat down at the table. Technically, Sam wasn't supposed to drink with the medications he was on, but they both knew the meds weren't going to help with this, and Sam had skipped taking them for the day just to be safe(r).

Dean was still staring at the glass of whiskey in his hand, hadn't even taken a drink yet, when he realized he and Sam weren't alone.

"Room for one more?" Henry asked quietly.

Dean drew a deep breath as he looked up at his grandfather. "Hey. Sure. Sit down. You want..." He gestured with the glass in his hand.

Henry hesitated briefly before nodding. "For this, it might help."

Sam jumped up and brought over another glass, and Dean poured.

Henry looked at the whiskey for a moment, much as Dean had done, before raising his glass and looking Dean in the eye. "To family."

"To family," the brothers echoed, clinked glasses, and drank.

Henry only sipped at his drink, but he waited until Sam and Dean had a couple more rounds under their belts before breaking the silence again. "I understand this is... the night it happened."

Dean just nodded.

"Tell me everything."

Dean sighed. "You don't want to know."

"No. But I need to, Dean. I need to know what happened to my son, what made him the man he was. Please."

Maybe it was the booze; maybe it was the retirement; maybe it was the fact that Henry said please. Dean wasn't sure. Something just gave after his next drink, like a dam breaking, and he started talking. So did Sam. They spilled everything—the fire, the hunts, Dad, Jess, Cold Oak, Dean's deal, Ilchester, Carthage, Detroit, Stull. Henry took charge of the bottle at some point, but Dean stopped paying attention to how much he was drinking. Maybe he cried, though he didn't want to. He just knew a whole lot of hurt came rolling out of his mouth and Sam's... but he wasn't mad. He wasn't anything but tired and sad.

Somehow he and Sammy made it up the stairs together and crashed in Sam's bed. He thought he mumbled something like "Love you, Sasquatch" into Sam's ear before he finally conked out. And somehow it didn't surprise him to wake up and find Sam cuddling him for dear life.

He was surprised that he still felt kind of buzzed when he finally got up. He was doubly surprised to find Henry still asleep on the couch. And he was shocked that the bottle of Jack was still nearly half full. Apparently the tolerance he'd built up over the course of the Apocalypse hadn't lasted.

When he said so, though, Sam shook his head. "I dunno, man. I think you drank a lot more than we did. Memory's kinda hazy, though."

Dean sighed and headed into the kitchen. "Guess it doesn't matter. Too much is too much. I can't keep doin' this. I don't even need a lecture from Lisa to know that. Ben deserves better. Lisa deserves better. And hell, gettin' wasted got us both killed back in March."

"I'll pretend I didn't hear you say that," Henry groaned and sat up.

Sam snorted. "You're not a hunter until you've died at least once. Hell, you're not a Winchester until you've died twice."

Henry groaned again and staggered over to the table. "Does 'missing, presumed dead' for fifty-two years count?"

"Probably."

"Nobody else is dyin' without permission from Cas," Dean declared and thunked the skillet down on the stove. "Want eggs and bacon, Henry?"

Henry looked a little green and shook his head. "Just tea, I think."

"I'll get the tea," Sam offered and started to do so. "What kind of permission?"

"The kind that involves cutting down the mightiest tree in the forest with a herring," Dean answered.

"Ni."

"You want some, Sammy?"

"Just eggs, thanks. And go easy on the salt."

Dean stuck out his tongue and got the eggs out of the fridge.

Henry squinted at them. "Was I supposed to understand that?"

"No," the brothers chorused, but Sam added, "We can watch that movie this afternoon."

"Oh. Okay. Sure."

They didn't talk much after that, aside from really small talk, until Dean was halfway through his plate of eggs and bacon and Henry was on his second cup of tea.

"I've been thinking," Henry said then abruptly. "And—I was thinking about this during the day yesterday, so it's not... solely to do with anything that was said last night."

Dean frowned. "What?"

Henry took a deep breath. "That bunker really isn't intended as a home, long-term. It isn't so bad having someone else with me, but I can't expect Sam to stay there just for my sake. After all, his doctors are here, and there aren't any in Lebanon to speak of. We can't really impose on Bobby any longer, either, and... the only other family I have is here."

"What's your point?"

"There's a house for sale down the street. It's easy walking distance, not many streets to cross. If it's in good shape, I thought I'd buy it, let that be my main residence when I'm not at the bunker. And of course, Sam's welcome to stay there if he wants."

Dean blinked. "You've got that kind of dough? Woulda thought bein' legally dead would be kind of a problem."

"Well, if I do this, Bobby's offered to set me up with enough of a paper trail to pass the credit checks and so on. As for the money... it seems the Men of Letters had set aside a great deal of hard assets."

"Gold," Sam explained, "and lots of it. Not, like, Fort Knox or anything, but enough to set Ben's grandkids up for life."

Henry chuckled. "Obviously, it wouldn't be wise for me to cash in the whole amount, but we can certainly cover down payments on a house and a used car and set up some kind of annuity until I can find a civilian job."

Dean shrugged. "Hell, I got you covered there. Sid's lookin' for an office manager."

Henry's eyebrows shot up. "Yes, I could do that. I'd need some tutorials to get me up to speed with the equipment; Sam and Bobby have been teaching me how to use these new computers, but I'm sure there are other things I need to learn."

"Even on the computer, there are things we haven't gotten to yet," Sam noted. "Email, spreadsheets, that kind of thing."

"Ever used a copy machine?" Dean asked.

Henry frowned a little. "You mean a mimeograph?"

"No, like Xerox."

Henry shook his head. "Xerography's still in its infancy—or was."

"It's not too different from those scanners you've been using at the bunker. Kind of a cross between that and a mimeograph. We can show you at the library or something; there's one for public use there, costs, like, five cents a page."

"All right. I'm sure there will be things I'll need to make copies of even before I apply for the job. As for Sam..."

"Hell, that's up to Sam. Whaddaya say, Sasquatch?"

Sam opened his mouth to reply, but what came out was a grunt of pain as he slumped forward, head in hands and elbows on table.

"Sammy?"

It was a long, tense moment before the vision released Sam; then he visibly relaxed and leaned back in his chair, and his breath started coming in loud, harsh pants.

"What is it?" Henry asked, rubbing Sam's shoulder. "What did you see?"

Sam needed another couple of pants before he could manage, "Ca-... Ca-... Campbells... have a library... me an' Dean... an' Bobby, we were... lookin' for some... 'way to put a run in... Octomom's stockings,' whatever the... hell that means. That's what... Bobby said. An' then... Dean, you found... Samuel Colt's... Colt's journal in there."

Dean blinked several times. "Okay. That... doesn't make any sense."

Sam looked him in the eye and tried to laugh, but his eyes were clear despite their tiredness. "Tha-... that's the first one... nobody's died in. Maybe we've... changed enough."

At a loss, Dean just smiled and rubbed Sam's back for a moment.

And then suddenly Cas was sitting down beside Henry—well, it was more of a weary plop than a graceful sitting down. "It's over," he announced.

"What is?" all three Winchesters chorused.

"We found Metatron. Raphael took him for interrogation and confirmed what I had seen of his deeds in the other timeline... and more."

"And?" Dean prompted when it seemed like Cas wasn't going to continue.

Cas sighed heavily. "Metatron is dead. And Raphael has given up the attempt to resume the Apocalypse, at least for now. Especially with all living members of the Winchester line sealed against possession, the attempt would be fruitless. And I believe the information he learned from Metatron has given him much to think on." He shook his head. "I can't help feeling like I betrayed Metatron, even though I know he was planning to betray us all. His death and Raphael's change of heart will save countless lives, human and angel. I just... wish there had been another way."

Sam had caught his breath enough to speak normally as he leaned forward. "Cas, you did what you had to. And you kept your promise to... that other me. Those things I've been seeing can't happen now. You fixed it."

Cas looked at him. "Have I truly fixed everything?"

Forehead creasing in worry, Sam looked down at his empty plate and then at Dean.

"You make your own choice," Dean said. "But I'm not mad at you. About anything."

Sam took a deep breath and fiddled with his fork for a moment. "I think I'll still want to travel some. Spend a few weeks with Bobby, a few at the bunker, maybe. And... as long as it's okay with you... I think I will move in with Henry, if he gets that house, just... to give you and Lisa some space."

Dean nodded slowly. "All right. That's fine with me. Just as long as you're takin' care of yourself."

As Sam smiled with a huff of relief, something... clicked somehow, like that other timeline was finally locked away for good.

Henry smiled, too. "Well, then, I think this calls for some celebration!"

"I'm all for that," Dean replied. "Although as weird as it sounds to say this, I'm thinkin' no booze."

"Pie?" Cas suggested.

And that's why Lisa came home two hours later to find three Winchesters sound asleep on the couch, with the end of Monty Python and the Holy Grail on the TV and the remains of apple pie and coffee in front of them on the coffee table, while Cas stared at the TV with his head tilted trying to figure out the humor.

"Cas?" she asked quietly, hesitating near Dean's end of the couch. "Is everything okay?"

Cas looked at her, at Sam, at Henry, at Dean, and smiled. "It is now."

She smiled back and bent to give Dean a gentle kiss on the cheek, and even in his sleep, Dean glowed with contentment.