AN: This epilogue is dedicated to my dog-loving friend and beta Janice. She couldn't stand the sadder version I wrote first, and she was absolutely right -- this is better! So, for Janice and everyone else who's had a pet that was more than *just* a pet, but was a friend, confidant, and part of their family, enjoy!
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"This is nuts, you know," Benji said, reiterating a theme he'd been riding on and off for the entire drive.
"Yeah, I know." Grant did know, but he also knew that his little brother always supported him or he wouldn't have made the drive down to Milton and agreed to ride along west from there. "I know what I saw and heard, Benji."
"Ben," corrected the younger man absently. He was logical and intelligent and had always been both open-minded and level-headed, so Grant was sure that his brother wouldn't run off screaming when he was face-to-face with real evidence of the supernatural. Reasonably sure.
"So those symbols around Gramps' place were protection of some kind, right? And his scars were from...fighting monsters?" Benji asked, making an honest effort to believe what he'd been told. Grant nodded. He'd already covered this, too. "But the guys we're meeting up with are just human." I think. Ben drummed his fingers against the dash, a sure sign that he was thinking hard. "You remember how our friends could never find the cabins unless we drove them there? Like, literally drove past without seeing them?"
Grant hadn't thought about that in light of what he now knew about Foster's occupation. "Huh. Yup. That seems like it would be handy."
The younger Fleming chuckled. "No shit. Think I can do that to my phone so telemarketers can't call me?"
"As long as you're not avoiding Natalie," Grant teased, referring to Ben's fiancée.
They chatted lightly most of the rest of the way but fell silent when they turned onto the familiar road that led to a place where they had so many wonderful memories. A place they now owned together, thanks to Foster's will. Though they paid the taxes, this was the first time they'd returned, though they'd talked about how nice it would be to take their own kids there some day.
Grant turned carefully onto the serpentine driveway that would bring them back to the cabins. At the final turn, before they could see any of the buildings, was a familiar-looking car. It – she, according to Dean – looked quite a bit better than when Grant had seen her last. The two men leaning against her bumper did too. Grant pulled in behind the other vehicle, trying (and failing) not to stare.
When Sam had left Milton a few days earlier, he had broken ribs and could barely stand up on his own. Now, he moved from leaning to standing without removing his hands from his pockets, with just an easy movement of his torso. He and Dean didn't even have any of the many cuts and bruises that had decorated their faces just days before.
"These are the men who were beat to hell, right?" Benji asked slowly. Grant just nodded. He knew how strange it sounded, but all his brother said in addition was, "You didn't mention they're giants."
Grant snorted, then got out of his truck and walked over to the men. "Sam, Dean, this is my brother Benji. Benj, Sam and Dean Winchester." Yes, he knew their real name now.
Ben didn't bother to correct Grant this time, just greeted them with his face carefully neutral. At least until he saw the dog trotted into sight. Then Ben's mask of calm dropped like a rock and he stared. "Holy...that looks just like Go-go." It was what he'd always called the dog, since he couldn't pronounce his name right when he was small. When Goethe trotted up to him, he crouched and petted him enthusiastically, his skepticism if not gone, at least temporarily subsumed by other emotions. The dog rested his chin on Benji's shoulder the way he always had...they'd always considered it a doggy hug. Grant swallowed hard and saw his brother do the same.
Benji looked from the dog in his arms up to his brother with a look of wonder. "How…" He broke off when Goethe licked his face and snuggled in closer.
Grant just shook his head in response, but it was Dean who spoke up. "Don't even ask, kid. Just go with it."
Grant looked the dog over carefully, pleased to see that he'd perked up since they'd been apart. He wasn't running around like a puppy or anything, but he looked healthy and definitely had a doggy smile on his face. Grant couldn't stop himself from crouching too and giving Goethe a good petting. "My boys miss you," he said into the dog's ear earning a gentle tail wag in response.
"We thought it might be better to walk from here," Sam said after Benji and Grant stood again. His tone was kind as he asked, "Are you two...ready?" Or as ready as you can be? was unspoken.
Grant nodded despite his reservations and the cautious expressions the two Hunters wore. He and Ben followed the other two, Goethe trotting between younger pair.
When they'd rounded the curve, Grant pulled up short, hearing his brother's quickly indrawn breath. The first cabin and outbuilding were there, just as he remembered except more rundown. A couple handfuls of wolfhounds lazed around the area, watching with calm and curious eyes, but Grant only had eyes for the figure sitting court in a wheelchair.
"G-grandpa Owen," he tried to say, but it only came out as a whisper. The man appeared completely solid and no older then he had the last time Grant had seen him. Actually, he looked much better than he had the last few times Grant had seen him; he had never regained his health after losing his leg. Benji grabbed a handful of Grant's sleeve, breathing hard. In return, Grant grabbed the back of Ben's shirt, not sure if it was to steady his brother or himself.
"It's good to see you boys," Grandpa said calmly. He didn't move, willing to let them set the pace.
Grant only peripherally noted that Sam and Dean had stepped back a little ways to offer some modicum of privacy. He was too busy riding out a flood of emotions to pay much attention. No matter what else he'd seen over the last couple of weeks (or even the fact that he'd talked to his grandfather on the phone), he hadn't really believed he'd see the man again. He chanced a glance at Benji, who was pale and staring but didn't look like he was going to pass out or anything. Ben let go of Grant's sleeve and visibly steeled himself. He took a few deep breaths and ran a hand down his face, the shock there starting to give way to a stunned smile.
"I – I missed you," Grant admitted to Foster. On autopilot, he moved forward. As if Grant were still the boy who confided about crushes and bad grades while handing over tools or baiting a hook, his grandpa stood and opened his arms.
Grant choked on tears as he carefully hugged the man. He felt real, solid, breathing, even had the right smell. "How – I –" He stepped aside and let Benji take his hug.
"Don't ask me questions I can't answer," Foster said with the fake grumpiness that had never fooled Grant. "Now tell me everything!"
So the two men sat on the stoop of the cabin, just like they had so many times before. It was a bit of a squeeze now, but neither noticed or cared.
Benji showed off pictures of his fiancée and explained their plan to open their own dojo. Grant showed off pictures of his family and got to see the look on the elder's face when he heard that the girl coming soon would have the middle name of Elizabeth in honor of Grandma Betty...and that Grant's older son was named Owen.
Foster smiled and smiled and smiled and Grant could have sworn that Goethe, who was leaning against the side of his master's chair, was smiling too.
They had to have talked for close to an hour when Foster leaned forward and rested a forearm against his thigh. Grant straightened reflexively, Benji doing the same at his side. For as long as they'd known the older man, this had been his posture when they needed to discuss something serious.
"Listen, boys, this is important, so let me say what I gotta say and don't interrupt." For the first time since he'd seen the two, his smile dropped. "You know what I am now, and you gotta understand that Goethe and me don't belong here anymore. Sam and Dean have a way to help us move on." The smile returned for a second. "And they claim that the mutt and I can go together. Somethin' about our souls being joined since this pup here's the reason I didn't move on in the first place. Don't be angry at those two. It's their job to take care o' things like me. Yes, things. I'm not human now." He gave a long, deep sigh. "And I think we've earned our rest."
Benji started to protest, but as much as he wanted to join in, Grant did not. He'd gotten a glimpse of what lurked in the dark and didn't feel qualified to say what the Hunters should and shouldn't do, no matter how much his heart ached at the thought of saying good-bye again. And his grandpa had earned the chance to rest. Hell, he'd more than earned it during his natural life. Beyond that, though Sam and Dean had been nothing but considerate, Grant had the strong suspicion that they would ensure Foster moved on whether his grandsons liked it or not.
"I'm years past my expiration date, Ben," Foster said with more gentleness than most people would have credited him with. "I'm just grateful to get a chance to say a real good-bye and to be sent off by those two good men instead o' slowly fadin' away – or worse.
"Now, listen. This place belongs to you boys now. You do with it whatever you want – sell it, whatever. Don't be sentimental or do what you think I want. It's yours, free and clear. The 'Vette, too. You oughta take a look at her 'fore you go today. And I ain't sure you want to stay for the next part." He clapped a hand on each of the men's shoulders,. "I, uh, shit. I don't say this ever, but I love you two. And I'm proud of you."
Grant couldn't answer, and it seemed like Ben couldn't either. Their grandpa smiled down at them once more then called the other two men over. "C'mere, Sam and Dean. The boys'll get goin' so you can do what you have to do," he said.
"Can't we stay?" Grant choked out. "Please?"
He'd expected an instant 'no,' but to his surprise, Sam nodded. "That should be fine. This isn't – it shouldn't be anything, uh, difficult to watch."
"And there ain't much doubt which direction you'll go," Dean added to Foster with the directness Grant had come to expect from him. "If you're ready, old man?" The words might have sounded dismissive except that Dean's tone was respectful.
Grant almost kept the tears at bay, even when he hugged Foster one more time, but lost it when Ben did the same and his shoulders hitched. Grant put an arm around his brother's shoulders and they stepped back out of the way, unheeding of the tears rolling down both their faces. Foster sat up straight and proud, his face serene and put one arm around Goethe who was still sitting contentedly by his side. "It's time," he said. Grant could have sworn he saw the dog nod ever so slightly in agreement.
Sam and Dean each nodded to the older Hunter – probably had said their goodbyes earlier – then Dean held his phone out in front of him. "Go for it, Cas," he said.
A gravelly voice began to speak over the line in a language that Grant couldn't place. Strange purple light began to coalesce around Foster, dancing and looping around him until the bottom half of his body was obscured. The man began to rise slowly in the air, awe on his face as he looked up.
The voice on the phone stopped. "Hey, Foster," said Dean. "Forget something?"
Sam patted Goethe one last time and made a shooing motion.
Grandpa Owen looked back down, such joy in his expression that he looked younger than Grant had ever known him. "Forget him? Never!" He held out his arms and Goethe made an impossible leap and landed right in them. The lights flared up and completely covered man and dog. Then it was all gone – lights, man, and dog.
The wolfhounds, which had all watched everything unfolding intently, stood and trotted off in various directions. Except after a couple steps, each dog simply dissolved. With sixty seconds, the two sets of brothers were the only ones left in the clearing.
Sam and Dean gave the other two a couple of minutes to regain their composure, then walked over. "I'm sorry," Sam offered sincerely. "He was a good man and a second good-bye's no easier than the first one." He spoke like someone who knew that from experience.
"Yeah, why don't you let us buy you a beer?" Dean asked.
Grant wanted to say 'yes,' but something his grandpa had said had caught his attention. "I appreciate that, but I think we'd like to stay and look around for a while. Reminisce. I want to take a look at the Corvette, like he said."
Ben reacted to that next to him but Grant didn't look over. He gratefully took the card Sam gave him with what he called "the best way to reach us," sensing that not just everyone was given such a thing. The two Flemings stood in silence a good fifteen minutes after the sound of the Impala's engine had faded to nothing.
Then, finally, Grant looked at his brother, who was looking back wide-eyed.
"'Vette?" he asked.
"'Vette," Benji confirmed.
They both took off, running like they had when they were children back when Grandpa Owen used to sometimes sneak them treats and other things that their mother didn't necessarily want them to have. His method was to put the item or items in the hobby car and tell the boys that they should take a look at the 'Vette to see what work he'd done on it.
Breathless, Grant opened the back door of the Corvette. Two balls of fluff leaped out at him. They were puppies, young but not small by any means. They had the ears of a wolfhound but were black with white spots and white bellies. One had a note attached to its collar which Grant read while Ben laughed and wrestled with the excited pups.
Boys, I wish I could stay and teach you how to protect yourselves against all the supernatural shit that's out there. Maybe I should've taught you about it when you were little, but I just couldn't do that to you. So this is the best I can do. I made a deal with the bitch that whelped these two to leave them for you. Their Goethe's, so they're half dog with maybe a little bit of rå mixed in. The other half is graveyard dog. I know that means nothing to you, so what you need to know is that they're gonna defend you and the people you love with everything they got in 'em.
I think I'll see you again someday. Til then, live and love and go after your dreams. You were good boys and I know you're good men. I'm proud of you.
Grandpa Owen
Benji gained his feet and dumped one bundle of fur and energy unceremoniously into Grant's arms, grinning as it promptly licked him from chin to eyebrow. "Coolest. Grandpa. Ever."
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AN: An outsider POV, something I don't do often. And puppies! Everyone loves puppies, right?
Long live BRUCAS: I returned the town and the Winchesters to normal, but still had to make sure Goethe and Foster got their happy ending. Thanks for reading and commenting!
muffinroo: This chapter didn't have a whole lot of Sam either but hopefully it was still a satisfying conclusion. (Hey, there were puppies. Did you notice the puppies?! lol)
Colby's girl: Happy Easter to you too! It would be fun to see Grant again, especially now that he has his own partially supernatural pet. Thank you for all of the encouragement!
Spnlady: Now it's done! I had too much fun messing with poor Dean in this one. I can't bring Goethe back because I can't separate him from Foster, but there's always a possibility we could see Grant and.the special pup. Hmm...maybe he should name it Nietzsche or Hume. LOL
Chiiva: Usually, I have only the broadest strokes of a story in mind at the beginning. (It's funny -- I used to write so differently, planning it all out.) The former was the case here. I didn't concoct the guys' cover story until it was time to write that chapter and I just got lucky that it fit so well! And thank you for being so kind.
sylvia37: How much do I love you for asking about Goethe! I gave him his happy ending. (I mean, Janice might have disowned me if I hadn't...) But seriously, he deserved it!