Author's Note I tried to do some more research into this part seeing as it's the ending. Now that I look back on my past chapters, however, I feel as if I'm cheating you guys on something much better. I apologize for this. Maybe I will rewrite this on a later date, but for now, enjoy this monstrosity of cheesy love and lack of sex. If I get reviews about it, I will make an epilogue or perhaps a sequel, but that is purely up to you guys.


Pulling up into a tight alley with such a monstrous vehicle would freak anyone out. If they so needed to get out of there in a hurry, the car could easily catch on a garbage bin or fire escape ladder. But to Dean it was nothing. He was as skilled a driver as any NASCAR racer ever dreamed to be. Or so he told himself.

"Are you sure this is the place?" Dean muttered, squeezing past the tight space between the inside of the car and the door backed up again the alley wall.

"Yeah. Best Tarot card reader in town." Sam repeated to Dean as he did for the last twenty times. Dean never gave him the benefit of the doubt and he was starting to get annoyed with that. But Sam dropped it as they stepped up to a shabby store entrance. The door looked beat and aged from thirty years ago. The paint was peeling off and most of the wood had begun to chip away. Any semblence of paint left on the entry way door was faded. A mixture of red and blue from painting and repainting. The small door held a window on the upper half of it, a small ledge jutted out. A nail was driven into the sill and a sign was hanging from it.

"Well, it's says it's open." Dean commented, grabbing at the sign and immediately dropping it after he made his point. "Sure late for Go Fish."

"Dean, Tarot card reading is so much more than that-" Sam protested, shutting himself up as he felt the surge of mockery coming from Dean. One good thing came of feeling emotions, at least.

Sam pulled on the knob of the door. A squeaky hinge played a horrific melody as the door began to open, sticking on the graceful hinge every second of the way.

"Needs some WD-40, lady." Dean jests, seating himself in front of a small table covered with a large embroidered over throw. Sam pinches him on the back of the neck, eying him fiercely when Dean snaps his head backward to peer up at Sam.

"I thought you'd two never come." The woman turned around in her chair. The small overhanging lamps gave her an ominous look, but Sam and Dean had seen more daunting stares thanks to their supernatural adventures. "You are looking for this, correct?"

They were both taken aback slightly as the image of The Fool's tarot card was revealed. They should have expected it, however. At least Sam should have.

"I will tell you now that you are on quite the hunt." She began speaking quietly, smoothing out each individual card on the table.

Sam was sitting next to Dean by the time he spoke. "Can you do a reading for me?"

Dean looked over at him, cocking an eyebrow. Sam brushed him off lightly, looking into the woman's deep brown-golden eyes. She nodded slowly, not showing any emotions- not sending any emotional signals, either.

Sam had had a reading before. He knew what to do, but he was still nervous. The last card reading he had experienced sent him off to Ruby. Despite the nerves, Sam slowly touches a hand to one of the cards. She flips it over slowly- almost excruciatingly- and it is revealed to be The Magician.

"You feel purpose in your life; and you want to accomplish something great. You should believe in yourself."

The next card, The Hermit, is flipped.

"What you crave the most is the knowledge of your destiny. A companion or lover is evident in your heart, but you are too exhausted to ascertain what that person really means to you."

Giving Dean a distressed glance, Sam looks back and touches another card. The Lovers.

"You are afraid to fall in love again. Yet your mind is pushing you head over heels. You are unsure of what you should say or do, or perhaps say or do nothing at all. Trust your emotions and those around you."

Sam breaths deeply, much of what she is saying stings him. A quick glance to the inverted card discloses The Sun.

"Success, joy, and happiness are present in your future. You will feel confident, and reassured of your past anxiety."

The Wheel of Fortune. Dean gives a small chuckle, but chokes the rest of it back as Sam flicks his gaze to him.

"Good luck is edging its way into your life. Responsibility ways heavy on your heart, but trusting your intuition will prove positive. You may have to give up something great in order to accomplish your utter most goal, however this sacrifice will seem minimal at best. The Wheel may conflict with you at first glance, but later events will prove it's loyalty to you."

The last card is already facing upward when Sam eyes it. The Devil.

"There is another person blocking your vision. A bad seed was planted into your head giving you a sense of self-loathing and need for justice. If you are concerned of your relationship with a certain individual, turn back now. Your tale will end quickly, messy and unjustified."

Sam's hand is on Dean's now. It's under the table and it's shaking. Dean doesn't move to shake it off. He only allows it to send electric shocks down his veins and up to his brain. He glanced over at Sam, his eyes staring wholes into the six cards he had touched. A look of certainty yet confusion spread over his face.

"Thank you." He said solemnly. He reached into his pocket, but the woman's hand held him in place.

"Your brother may not agree with me," she mentioned, looking over at him, then back at Sam,"but I know you have belief in you. I know your faith is dwindling and your heart aches for certainty. I also believe that you know exactly what each card meant, even without interpreting completely."

Sam nodded acknowledgment, pulling his hand out of his pocket and also retreating his other hand from Dean's grasp.

"Now leave. Take your course of action and take is slowly. Time may seem as of essence, but truly it will play out in time."

The motel lights flickered above Sam's head. He was hunched over his laptop again, scanning documents he had come across while looking more into The Fool. His hands awkwardly tapped the small keys, typing words into Google's search bar. He was starting to feel the unease of a teenager again, clearing his throat and re-situating his legs on the tall bar stool.

"We gonna talk about this, or what?" Dean broke the empty silence of the room. They hadn't spoke for a while, even over 2-in-the-mourning breakfast.

"What's there to talk about?" Sam grumbled, hitting the back space several times.

"How about, I dunno, the reading you just got?"

"Since when have you been into that crap? You think all soothsayers and gypsies are lying whores."

"That's beside the point, and you know it. The shit she was spewing was pretty believable to me." Dean was standing now, subtracting the distance between Sam and himself. By the time he was inches from Sam, Sam was also standing tall. He towered over Dean, but it didn't make the elder Winchester back off any more.

"Look... I get what she was saying. Isn't that enough?" Sam broke their deadlock stare, focusing on a shabby painting on the wall to the right. He jumped slightly as Dean's hand grabbed his chin, forcing him to re-lock their gaze.

"It isn't. And you know that better than anyone. It wasn't enough when I told you I got over Hell. It wasn't enough when I said I could handle Dad's death- that I wasn't scared of of my mind. We know each other. You know me better than anyone."

Sam's heart skipped a beat with the end of his brother's cluttered jolt. The words smacked Sam in the face as if it was Dean's own hand punching him. He took his chin back, running his hand over it. His chest was heaving as each breath got deeper and deeper. Sam noticed Dean's chest was moving in quite the same manner which made him relax.

And then Dean's emotions slapped him in the face on top of his words. He felt love, desperation, longing, and distrust all at once. The distrust was only a sour taste in his mouth, easily overpowered by each of the other emotions jumbling in his head. He thought some of them were his own or perhaps just intensified by Dean's sentiments. He couldn't tell.

You are afraid to fall in love again.

Sam's hand gravitated toward Dean's jaw.

You are unsure of what you should say or do, or perhaps say or do nothing at all.

Dean leaned into the touch, surprisingly accepting.

Trust your emotions and those around you.

Their lips grazed each other's softly. Barely touching. Slips of hot breath inched it's way into the space between them. Sam was uncertain, conflicted even; but there was an underlying feeling. He felt extreme rightness in his actions right now. He lifted his other hand to Dean's face, cradling it upward. Sam pressed harder now, but still intensely tender. They stayed like that for minutes, hours, days maybe? When their lips parted, they looked into each other eyes and saw acceptance. They both smiled, embarrassed but happy.

"Sam-" Ruby's voice was like ice hitting Sam's hot skin. He swallowed deeply, turning around ever so slightly. The brief image of Ruby's face sent him reeling back to face Dean.

"I-it's not what it looks like." Dean stuttered, nervously bounding space between them.

"The hell it isn't." Her voice was fierce now. Anger radiated off of her aura, sending prickles of uncomfortable sensations over Sam's body.

"Ruby, look-"

"Shut the hell up, Sam." She was clutching the demon blade she bore in her possession. "I worked too damn hard to get as far as I have. Don't fuck it all up because you're Satan's fucking vessel."

"Wh- hey that isn't fair!" Sam seemed childish for a moment. He felt deprived of such happiness he felt a moment ago and it tugged on his heartstrings.

Ruby took the knife and sliced her wrist, thick, black blood trickled from the wound. Flashes of earlier memories banged in Sam's head. The first time with Ruby, the second, the third, and right before he had been reunited with Dean. And then a fuzzy recollection hit him.

He didn't want the blood. He didn't want anything in relation to it. He didn't want his powers, his false strength, his dignity. He just wanted Dean. When Ruby saw the sense of pure sobriety in Sam's eyes startled her.

"I don't need that anymore." His face was stiff. His body was stiff. His gaze was stiff.

"But... we could save the world, Sammy." She begged him, almost forcing herself on her knees.

"Hey, I'm the only one who can call him that." Dean chipped in, standing closer to Sam on instinct alone. Their arms brushed slightly, but neither of them looked away from Ruby.

"Dammit, Sam. You pathetic excuse for a human being!" She spat, reading the knife in her hand. She was angry- beyond so. Sam surged with it. Each vessel in his body pulsing with rage. It reached his head, a sensation of pure fury rushed over him. But he held back as much he could, breathing in deep, nostrils flaring. His own feelings were breaking the edge off of Ruby's intense anger. He felt betrayed. And he felt ashamed. For trusting Ruby over Dean this whole time.

Ruby plunged for them both, her teeth gritting together as she screamed through them, "I gave up my whole life for this!"

Before Sam and Dean even flinched, she seemed to have stuck in mid-stride. Her eyes widened in shock before thick, black smoke started seeping through her mouth. Sam looked in horror as his ability was being shown in front of him now. But he didn't even make a conscious effort to use them. Was he finally breaking that boundary? Was in out of control so much so that his powers acted on pure adrenaline?

He breathed a sigh of relief when Ruby's stolen vessel fell to the ground. Behind her was standing a tall, blonde, and pale woman. Her hand was stretched out, fingers spread much like Sam did when he used his otherworldly ability. When she lowered her arm, her face began to soften. She reminded Dean of their mother, but she was too young and took thin. She almost appeared too kind, if that were possible.

"I'm proud of you Sam." The voice was familiar, but he couldn't pinpoint the exact face. If there was any. "I told you you could do it."

And before Sam could open his mouth to question the young woman, she was gone.

"Who the hell was that?" Dean gaped.

"The hell if I know, Dean." Sam's brow was coming together, showing an incredulous expression.

It had only taken a matter of hours to burn Ruby's body. The smoke puffed unusually dark, but they didn't think much of it. It had been a demonic vessel for almost a year, after all. They were just outside a graveyard just off of I-94. Ironically, they were fairly close to it from their motel. They didn't think about it that much, either. Alternatively, they began to think about their ever growing relationship as brothers, and perhaps as lovers. Both of them had yet to feel the aftershock of the kiss. It may have been too quick of a caress to mean anything, but sparks had flown over them. Sam felt emotions he'd never though his bother could feel. And he didn't mind exploring those emotions. But even before their relationship The Fool was still at large. Right?

As the case may be, The Fool's actions had ceased entirely. Weeks of frivolous searching came up nothing. They even scoped out near by towns. Nothing had happened after the bursting pet parrot. They associated it with Ruby, the mysterious blonde woman, and even the Tarot card reader. They tried to visit the shop again, but the outdated door had vanished. The only thing left behind was a turned over Tarot card exhibiting The Lovers. They looked at each other and scoffed. Could their lives get much cheesier?

Dean didn't mind. Of all people, Dean embraced it. Almost as tightly as he use to coddle Sam in his arms when it was thundering outside. They were so little and Dean didn't know what to do. So his sighed, hoping to spare his dignity, before taking Sam up in his arms. They rocked back and forth in front of a make-shift fireplace. The red and orange light danced off of their eyes as they stared into it. That moment's affections reflecting their current zeal in the moment. They were held up to each other, arms grasping tightly. Their bulky arms fitting exceptionally well to each other. Their hearts raced and bodies heated against each other. A tiny sense cupidity slicing away their immoral doubts.

"Dean..." Sam spoke when his brother loosened his grip, taking a step back to take a look at the taller man's face. "This is right."

"Yeah, it feels that way, doesn't it, Sammy."

They both smiled warmly at each other. Dean rested a hand on Sam's chest, lightly thumbing the surface.

"I'm sorry I chose Ruby over you." Sam looked into his brothers eyes intensely now, hoping to find a hushed acceptance in them. When Dean opened his mouth to add something, Sam's thumb pursed it shut. "I was so lost without you. I was scared and alone and, to be honest, Ruby was the only thing keeping me together. She used me, possibly even abused me in some shape or form, but I stuck with her because she was a replacement. She was another Dean. A crappy one, let me tell you... but whenever I looked at her, I saw some resemblance of your passion. I now only realize that that passion was for something else entirely. I'm not sure what that is, but I don't plan to give into it anymore."

They were kissing again. Their lips moving together softly. The lack of tongue was upsetting to Dean, and thus he jutted his into Sam's mouth, trying to feel around it. Sam allured at this action, steeping closer to Dean and angling his head backward. The resumption of their earlier endeavor swept any sign of uncertainty out the under the rug. It could possibly manifest itself in the future, but presently, this moment was more important. Anything that came of this would be pushed back by this. It was something they needed and something they deserved. The only constant element in each others life was one another. They knew that fully. And they knew the risk they were taking at this moment. What everyone else thought of this was obsolete.

You may have to give up something great in order to accomplish your utter most goal, however this sacrifice will seem minimal at best.