Here we go! The Final Chapter! I hope you guys like it. I'm so sorry for keeping you waiting for a million and a half years. I'm the worst. Sorry.

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It was loud. Flames cackling, wood creaking and snapping, sirens screaming, concerned neighbors cooing. But for Dean it was one big silent, blacked out blur. Somehow, days later he was standing in front of a granite stone and a mound of black dirt.

Robin Winchester and Child

"Dean?" Sonny approached the grieving man. "It's getting late."

The funeral had ended hours ago. The entire community had gathered to show their love, concern, and sympathy.

Sonny rested a hand on Dean's stooped shoulder. Dean had been standing in silence for hours. It killed Sonny to see the man he considered a son in so much pain. Dean didn't deserve this heartache, this unfathomable loss. And Robin, she was much to young to have passed.

A tear rolled down Dean's cheek and was caught in his stubble.

"I can't." Dean said, pausing to take a deep breath, "How am I supposed to…"

"You start with putting one foot in front of the other. When that's too hard you stand still and take one breath after the next." Sonny spoke in a low reverent voice. "Son, I'm not gonna stand here and tell you that I know how you feel or I know what your going through. Because I don't. You're gonna have to heal in your own way. But know that whatever you need, whenever you need it. I'm around."

Dean nodded. He wiped the stagnant tear from his face.

"Dinner?" Sonny asked.

"I should get back to Sam." Dean said.

"Sure," Sonny said, "if you change your mind, swing by whenever."

"Thank you."

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Dean unlocked the motel door and let himself into the small dark room. There were boxes scattered around the room. Things that had been salvaged from the fire. Sam was right where he had left him. Laying down on top of the stiff blankets on one of the beds. Sam couldn't attend the funeral, not because of his burns, but because of the guilt that weight down to heavily upon him. Robin was dead and it was all his fault. He should have stopped it.

Sam didn't bother looking up.

Dean loosened his tie and sat down on the bed opposite his brothers. Multiple friends in the community had opened their home to the grieving widower, but Dean wanted to be alone, or at least as alone as he could be. He wasn't going to desert his brother. Sam hadn't spoken a word since the fire.

To anyone looking on from the outside it would have appeared that the event had been more traumatic for Sam than it had been for Dean. But they wouldn't know that Dean had spent his entire childhood and his adolescent years perfecting the art of shoving emotional crap into the dark tiny corners of his soul. It had been years since Dean felt the need to do so and now the task was a bit more difficult. He was out of practice.

"Hungry?" Dean asked.

No response.

"It's been days since I've seen you eat anything." Dean commented as he grabbed a homemade casserole (courtesy of his co-worker's wife) from the mini fridge. He scooped out a small helping and heated it in the microwave. He wasn't really hungry, but he wanted to keep his strength up. Besides, maybe if it smelled good it would be enough to shake Sam out of his silence.

Sam lazily looked down at his bandaged arms. The burns weren't too deep, but they were painful. Dean noticed his brother's tight lips and creased forehead.

"You in any pain?" Dean asked even though he didn't need to. He just wanted to hear Sam speak.

Sam gave a stiff nod.

"Eat some of this first," Dean commanded handing the hot casserole over. "It's not good to keep taking these pills on an empty stomach."

Dean pulled Sam's pain meds out of his pocket. He wasn't about to leave them out in the open where Sam could easily access them.

Sam pushed away the food but Dean pushed it right back.

"Come on," Dean whispered. He wanted to sound strong and in control of the situation, but he was too exhausted, "please?"

Sam closed his eyes and pushed himself up into more of a seated position. He took the dish and brought a tiny bite up to his mouth.

He didn't want to be problematic. He didn't want Dean to worry about him. He didn't want Dean waiting on him hand and foot. He felt pathetic. It was Dean who had just lost a wife and unborn child. It was Dean's house that had gone up in flames. Sam didn't feel like he deserved the kindness his brother was showing him.

Sam swallowed a bite that was much too hot, but he didn't want to complain. The food burned the roof of his mouth, but Sam didn't mind.

Sam only managed to get down half of his meal, but it was enough to make Dean give him a weak smile and a few pain killers.

Night settled in but sleep didn't come easily. Sam fought to keep his eyes open, fearing that sleep would only bring more visions of fires and death. Dean, although thoroughly exhausted, didn't want to fall asleep until Sam did. Eventually, the battle was lost by each brother and sleep overtook them.

Around four in the morning Dean awoke to a gentle hand rubbing his back. He turned on to his side, expecting to see Robin. Instead Sam sat next to him.

"Sammy?" Dean asked, his voice low. As he became more aware of his surroundings he remembered everything. The fire. Deaths. Motel. His face felt warm and sticky, and his throat felt rough. "What are you doing man?"

"You were crying in your sleep," Sam explained as if he was nervous that confessing such a think would be offensive to his older brother. When they were growing up Dean would never admit to crying; although, he never shamed Sam for doing so.

It warmed Dean's heart to hear his brother talking again. Then he remembered what he had been dreaming about. Robin, the baby, their future. Up in flames.

"I'm sorry," Sam said. He didn't know how to apologize for every single thing he had done and every single event that had occurred because of him. He wanted to explain to Dean how everything was his fault, how Dean should get as far away as possible, how sorry he was for existing.

"Yeah," Dean looked up at his brother with wet eyes, "me too."

Sam continued to rub circles on Dean's back even now that his older brother was awake.

"Samantha." Dean whispered.

"Huh?"

"Robin made me promise before we even got married that if we had a daughter we would name her Samantha. That was her mother's name." A smile played at the corners of his mouth. "I said it was fine with me, since I was already use to using the name."

Sam couldn't stop the single chuckle that escaped his lips.

"What if you had a son?" Sam asked.

"I told her she could pick any name she wanted for our boy," Dean's voice dropped to softer than a whisper, "any name except John."

Then Dean did something Sam had never seen him do. He cried himself to sleep.

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Dean got out of bed as soon as the sun was peaking over the horizon. There was a newfound energy inside of him. Like a switch had been flipped. He showered, dressed, and served Sam his breakfast all before eight in the morning. Then the phone rang and gave Dean a reason to slow down.

"Dean," Bobby drawled out the name with added softness and sympathy, "I just found out. I feel awful I couldn't be there for you boys sooner. I just got back from a hunt out in the middle of nowhere a few states over. I can be in Hurleyville by tomorrow night. Unless you'd rather come here instead?"

"Actually, there's something else I could use your help with, if it's not too much trouble."

"Anything."

"Bobby," Dean looked over to Sam, who was busy scooping up cheerios one by one, "Sam and I, we're going to find the monster who did this. We're going to end this thing once and for all."

Sam's head shot up like it had just popped out of a Jack-in-the-box. Bobby nearly dropped the phone.

"You sure you want to head down that path son?" Bobby asked, careful to keep his voice calm and steady. "I don't think I need to remind you of how long and bloody it can be."

"I'm sure." Dean said, and he meant it. "This thing killed my mom, my wife, and my child. Its days are numbered."

Sam felt a chill run down his spine when he heard the darkness in his brother's voice. He felt a tinge of fear ripple through him realizing that all of those deaths were his fault. Dean might as well put a bullet through his head and save himself the trouble of hunting down the demon. Images and memories from the past few months bombarded his brain. He had been living a (somewhat) normal life. He had friends, a team, a home. But now Dean needed him to give that up and be a hunter more than ever. Giving up his normal life was the least he could do for his brother.

"Well," Bobby sighed, "I'm here to help. What can I do?"

"I'm going to need everything you've ever found on this thing. We've got dad's journal in one of the boxes that were saved, but he obviously didn't know all that he needed to. Can we come by tomorrow to try to work out some kind of plan?"

"I'll be waiting with beer in the fridge and chili on the stove."

"Thank you, Bobby. Really." Dean said goodbye and hung up.

The rest of the morning was spent organizing everything they needed into the trunk of the Impala. Weapons were stowed, duffels were packed, and John Winchester's journal was carefully placed in the trunk. Every item that would have suggested that Dean had lived a life outside of hunting was tossed in the motel dumpster.

Of course, there was one exception: a single photo that had survived the fire. It was singed at the corners, but was mostly intact. It was a candid shot of Robin and Dean that had been taken by a friend at a picnic. Robin was laughing, her smile bright and warm, as Dean looked on with adoration in his eyes.

Dean placed the photo inside of his duffel bag, took a deep breath, and took a step back from the car. He exchanged a look with Sam and they both looked down to double check the gear in the trunk.

"We've got work to do."

THE END

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Ahhhhhhhh! It's over! Ok I hope you liked that last chapter. Let me know what you think now that it's all over! Thanks for being patient with me. It's been a rough few months and I've been awful at updating so I'm really sorry about that. I hope nobody is too disappointed by the ending.

Thanks for sticking with me and for sticking with this story!