AN: Thanks everyone for your patience. I re-wrote this final chapter at least 4 times. I'm still not 100% happy about how it turned out. I feel that there is a lot more to say, but it seemed to be drifting away from what I was trying to write about. So here it is. I may add some epilogue chapters later talking about the contents of the black bag (if anyone is interested) but for now, this is complete. Special thanks to Kandilyn and Imtheonewhofeelinglost for their recent enthusiasm and support.
Sam squirmed a little in his chair, his insides turning to ice even as he held the hot paper cup. Thinking about any version of himself being "buddies" with Lucifer made his skin crawl. He tried very hard not to think about the terrible things the archangel had done to him during his time in the Cage. Sam took another swallow of the hot coffee to settle himself.
"Yeah, I'm fine," he said, proud at how normal he sounded. With difficulty, he swallowed his last bite of donut. Dean stared at him closely and Sam had to let his gaze dart to the side to avoid meeting his eyes.
"No, you're not," Dean said calmly. "What's going on?" Dean crossed his arms and leaned back against the chair. A sharp hiss of pain and his quick lean forward made it obvious that he had forgotten about his injured back.
"Do you need me to re-bandage your back?" Sam jumped to his feet, eager to latch on to this distraction. The last thing he wanted to talk about was Lucifer.
"Nah, it'll be fine." It wasn't until Dean grabbed his arm to stop him that Sam even realized he was pacing the small space between the bed and the table. "Sammy, what's going on?," Dean implored in that big brother voice that Sam found hard to resist. Sinking onto the edge of the bed across from Dean, Sam found himself struggling to gather his thoughts. Anxiety churned his stomach.
"Nothing really," he paused. It was always so difficult to put his fear of Lucifer into words that didn't make him feel ashamed and weak. "It's just thinking about Lucifer and some version of me wanting to be with him..." Sam couldn't suppress a full body shudder at that. "It's hard to think about. A random thought drifted through Sam's brain and he jumped to his feet again. "Wait, now that that Lucifer knows about our world, what's to stop him from coming here." Sam could feel his heartbeat begin to race.
Now it was Dean's turn to look away. He walked across the room to stare out the window with tense shoulders, one arm wrapped around himself and the other clenched against the window frame.
"That was his plan, but Sam," Dean turned back towards him, "that's not gonna happen. It's been taken care of."
"How can you be sure?" Even to his own ears, Sam sounded like a pathetic child. He shook his head in frustration. He'd just gotten Dean back, the thought of round two of the apocalypse following his brother back here made him feel sick. Dealing with the visions he'd been having of his time in the Cage with Lucifer were bad enough, but at least here the devil was locked up again.
"Because the only people who could open the portal are all dead," said Dean, his voice heavy with sorrow. Something in Dean's tone got Sam's attention. He took a few steps and joined his brother at the window. The Impala's chrome shimmered in the morning sunshine, but there was precious else to look at in the dirty parking lot. After a long moment, Dean glanced at him.
"After Lynn died, and I jumped, the witches of the coven blew themselves up to be sure Lucifer couldn't follow." Dean said the words flatly.
"Wait, Lynn is dead?," Sam asked, slightly shaken by this news. He'd figured that their alternative world sister was back in the other world, fighting the good fight. He hadn't thought that she was dead. No wonder Dean had been so wrecked last night.
"Yeah, Lynn, her husband Alex, their baby Joy…" Dean's voice cracked a little. Moving slowly, Dean turned and fetched the black bag he'd had with him last night. Putting it on the table he unzipped it and lifted out a small stack of photographs, protected by some cardboard and bundled together with a rubber band.
Sam noticed that Dean squared his stance and subtly braced himself. It was a move Sam had seen his brother do thousands of times as he prepared himself for something painful. Feeling helpless to protect him, Sam simply watched Dean's face as the older man flicked through the photos. Dean stopped only once, to look at a photo with a strange combination of wistfulness and anger on his face. When he was done, he handed the stack to Sam and sat back down to take a swig of his cooling coffee.
"Wow, they look pretty much like us," Sam said, a touch of wonder in his voice. He sat and brought some of the pictures almost to his nose as he peered at the sister he never had. There had been almost no women in his life until he'd left to go to college. It was hard to imagine a version of his family with a female presence. Then he found the photo that Dean had stopped at. In the shot, Dean was holding a very new baby, looking at the bundle in his arms with a look of awe, while a tired but happy looking Lynn gazed at them both. He flipped the photo around and showed it to Dean. His brother took a quick glance then peered into his coffee like it held the meaning of life in its depths.
"Lynn was pregnant when I got there. She had the baby a few months after I got there. Her name was Joy." Dean said briefly answering the question Sam hadn't asked. Sam could see grief deepen the lines on the face across from his. "Alex was Lynn's husband. He was a photographer before their world went to shit. He was a really good guy, quiet and smart - he kind of reminded me of you." Dean cleared his throat, and swallowed hard. Sam was touched by the thoughtless compliment. He handed the stack of photos back to Dean who stuffed them back into the bag. Dean squeezed the handles between his hands for a second before looking around the motel room.
"You know what, let's just pack up and get out of here Sammy," Dean said. Careful of his injuries, he picked up the black bag and then hoisted his duffle bag onto his shoulder and headed for the door. Sam tossed the coffee cups and the donut bag and rose to follow. He shouldered the last of their stuff and at the last minute grabbed a thin pillow from one of the beds. He took a final look around and closed the door. He too was glad to be getting out of this room.
Dean was already in the driver's seat when Sam came back from returning the keys, so Sam went around and climbed into his usual spot, the door creaking a familiar greeting.
"Here," he said, "lean forward," he instructed Dean, shoving the soft pillow between Dean's injured back and the leather seat. Dean settled into the pillow and turned the key. The Impala sprang to life, her throaty growl sounding like comfort. Now that Dean was in his rightful place behind the wheel, Sam started to relax a little bit. Dean maneuvered the big car out onto the road and pointed her towards the bunker.
"Thanks Sam," Dean said gruffly, eyes still on the road. Sam knew his gratitude wasn't just for the pillow.
xxxxxxx
A few hours later Dean was stiff and tired behind the wheel. His back ached and his eyes were gritty, but he felt calmer than he had since he'd gotten back. The radio was down low, and Baby was eating up the miles toward the bunker. It was peaceful for the moment and the intense grief that he felt at losing Lynn and his other family was cushioned somewhat by the sound of his brother's soft snores. Dean glanced over and smiled fondly. Sam had drifted off, head tilted against the passenger window. The kid always slept well in the car.
Dean had been thinking a lot about Sam, and their life. Ever since he'd show up at Stanford and dragged Sam back into the nightmare that was hunting, he'd felt guilty. Logically he knew that the forces of Heaven and Hell had manipulated their lives from before they were both even born. Sam's return to the road was inevitable, but in his heart, he wished he could have given Sammy more of a chance to have a normal life. Sam should have finished college, gotten married, had kids. He felt the sting of tears behind his eyes as that thought brought the memory of Joy to his mind. Dean had loved being an uncle for the few months he'd had. It wasn't fair that his niece's life had ended before it had even begun. Shaking his head, he pushed aside that train of thought. There was no point dwelling in the past. It wasn't the first time he'd lost someone he loved and had to keep going. He shoved his grief down into the well used black hole in his gut and focused on the road.
Dean's stomach rumbled. The community had been on short rations for a few weeks. He was used to being hungry and tended to ignore it when he had a job to do. But he figured that Sam had been neglecting himself while he was gone. Whenever the younger man worried, he forgot to eat, and Sam was looking skinny and worn. Dean pulled off at the next exit. It was as good a time as any for lunch.
He found a diner and parked the car. The place looked nice enough and boasted fresh coffee and sweet tea according to the hand lettered sign outside. Dean sat in the warm car for a minute, letting the absence of engine noise wake Sam. Sure enough, in a minute or two Sam stirred, turning his head towards Dean almost before he was awake.
"What time is it?," Sam slurred as he stretched and yawned.
"Time for some lunch, c'mon Sam," Dean said and stepped out into the hot August day. Sam followed and soon they were settled at a table in the corner with orders of BBQ on their way. Sam was still waking up and Dean watched the condensation drops roll down his glass of Coke. He looked at Sam who still had a warm rumpled look that made him seem a lot younger than his 32 years. Sam must have noticed him watching because he shrugged and smiled.
"What?," Sam asked. Dean opened his mouth to tease his brother but surprised even himself with what actually came out.
"I'm sorry Sam," Dean said seriously. All of a sudden, he had to get this off his chest.
"What for Dean? It's not like you wanted to get grabbed and dragged into another world." Sam's voice was pitched low, despite there only being one other table with people.
"I should have gotten you out. I should have found a way to give you a better life than what we had." Dean was solemn with regret. "Lynn got her Sam out you know? Stood up to their Dad, got out of hunting, found a place and a job, enrolled her brother in school - even got him into college. I should have done that for you Sam." Dean drew his finger through the puddle around his glass. "You deserved better."
A myriad of emotions crossed Sam's face, including confusion, but when Sam began to speak it was with an earnest intensity.
"Dean," Sam reached out and gripped Dean's wrist, "You've taken care of me my whole life, given everything to me, done extraordinary things for me, even when I didn't deserve them. I have no idea what our lives would have been like with a sister, but I couldn't ask for a better brother." Dean looked into Sam's eyes, floored by the love and compassion he found there. The younger man released his wrist, but kept the eye contact until Dean had to yank his gaze away or risk getting emotional.
"I just wish that you'd had a chance to be a lawyer, get married, maybe have a few rugrats." Dean sighed, but Sam just smiled at him.
"Thanks Dean, I appreciate that, but I'm good...we're good, really. You're you again," Sam shot a pointed look at the spot on his arm where the Mark of Cain had been a few short months ago, "and now that you're back, we're gonna find a way to stop the Darkness. Together."
"Alright Sammy," was all Dean said, but he felt a warm swell of affection for his kid brother surge through him. For the first time in a long time, Dean felt like maybe there was a light at the end of this long tunnel they had been struggling in. He and Sam were in a good place now, better than they had been in years. He had a chance to make things between them better now. Life was uncertain, but maybe there was reason to hope.