When the Cradle Falls
Chapter Forty-Six: White Lighter
The door of the Impala opened and closed loudly, as Cara slid into the front seat. Turning around, she looked into the back, where Noah was laid out, staring up at the ceiling. A large flannel shirt covered him as a makeshift blanket.
"How you doing?" She asked. It was a stupid thing, but she couldn't just sit there in silence. There had been too much silence lately. Everything was too quiet.
"You know."
"Yeah."
"Bobby went to get some food. Dad hasn't moved at all."
Noah took a deep breath. It hurt.
Sam was dead.
He was gone.
Killed by Jake, someone Noah had talked to and confided in like an old friend.
It made him sick.
It made him furious that Jake had betrayed Sam like that. And Silvia...she knew and did nothing to stop it.
Yellow Eyes needed to go.
That bastard had taken so much from his family. His grandpa, his uncle. Noah had been cursed; his mother, father, and sister had all been tortured and tormented by the demon. Every single step they took, every wound that healed, and every bad dream that was forgotten was always in vain because here came the sadistic monster, back again for seconds, taking more and more each time. He was going to keep coming back until there was nothing left, until they were all dead.
And Sam.
Sam.
Trapped in Cold Oak with all of them, Sam had made sure that everyone was safe, compromising his own well-being to make sure people he had never met were protected and taken care of.
And now he was just gone.
Just like Aunt Jan.
Wiped off the map. Piece chucked off the board.
It was alarming for Noah to make the connection between the two deaths. Aunt Jan had died protecting Alice from Noah's actions. Sam had died making sure Noah was okay. If Noah hadn't been in either of those situations, then maybe they would still be alive.
It really was his fault.
He really was cursed.
Angrily, Noah swiped at some wetness in the corners of his eyes. He had been waiting to hear something. Anything that might give him an idea of what to do. But it was just silent, deafeningly silent.
"I wish Mom was here," Cara admitted, almost ashamed by it.
"Me too," Noah sighed. She was always so good at making them feel better...normally.
They wallowed in their losses for a while. In the front, Cara shifted uncomfortably. "I-I'm sorry."
He frowned. "For what?"
She swallowed and glanced out the window. They were at an empty cabin a few miles away from the town. No one had wanted to stay in the actual area.
She and Noah had driven with Bobby. Dean hadn't wanted them in the car while Sam was carefully placed in the backseat.
"I guess just for being not a very good sister lately. I'm older. That means I'm supposed to take care of you, but I feel like you're the one that's always looking after me. I haven't been there for you. I've been selfish and-" She jerked around, eyes glistening with tears. "What if that had been you? It could've been you. One minute you're there and the next...just gone.
"All I can think is that if it had been you, how you would've died, maybe thinking I was a bad sister or didn't care about you. I know we're not supposed to get along at this age, but if that had been it-
"I mean, you were my first friend, Noah. You have been the only consistent thing in my life. At first, Dad would come and go. And now Mom is...who knows what's going on with her? You're the only one that knows what it was like to be drowned, to be possessed, find out your entire childhood was a lie. You are the one that has been through everything. '
"It's sick. It's so sick that I was thinking about this, but I'm glad I'm not going through what Dad is going through. I don't know how he's holding it together. If I lost you, I don't know what I would do."
Her confession petered off as she lost her composure and began to cry. Stunned, Noah slowly sat up and reached across the seat, wrapping his arms around her. "I'm here."
"I know. I know. I'm so glad you are. I swear, I'm gonna be a better sister. I promise I won't let anything happen to you, Noah."
Be a better sister? What was she talking about?
"You're already the best sister," Noah said.
She gave a deep sigh, so he wasn't sure if that comforted her or not.
The two slowly let go of each other, feeling incredible amounts of loss, for how young they were.
As they sat, Bobby pulled up a few moments later, stopping. Knocking on the window, he peered into the car. Cara rolled it down slightly. "I got food." Bobby held up a bucket of fried chicken and a paper bag, likely having burgers and fries in it.
"Thanks," Cara said. "We'll be in in a few minutes."
"Take your time, you two. There's no rush."
"Thanks Bobby," Noah added from the back seat.
Nodding, he gave the kids a sad smile and turned towards the cabin. Smile dropping, Bobby took a deep breath and went through the front down.
Sam's body hadn't moved. It was laid on a box spring underneath a window.
As still as his brother's body, Dean sat in a chair in a corner of the room, staring blankly ahead.
"Dean? Brought you this back." Bobby held out the bucket of fried chicken.
"No thanks. I'm fine."
"You should eat something."
"I said I'm fine," Dean said, with an edge. Reaching down, he grabbed a glass bottle of whiskey and took a swig. The amber liquid was severely diminished from before Bobby had gone on a food run.
Bobby set the food down on the table. "Dean...I hate to bring this up, I really do. But don't you think maybe it's time...we bury Sam?"
"No."
"We could maybe-"
Dean finally looked at Bobby. "Maybe what? Torch his corpse. Not yet."
"I want you to come with me," Bobby said, more terrified of Dean's calmness, than him losing his temper. The older man knew things were bad when Dean was stewing in self-pity.
"I'm not going anywhere."
"Dean, please."
"Would you cut me some slack?"
"I just don't think you should be alone, that's all. And I gotta admit, I could use your help."
That was rich. Dean leaned back with a derisive snort, and took another gulp of whiskey, unsatisfied with the lack of burning from the alcohol.
"Something big is going down. End of the world big," Bobby pushed.
Sitting up, Dean slammed the bottle down into the ground. "Well then let it end!"
"You don't mean that." Bobby shook his head.
Suddenly up on his feet, Dean was inches away from Bobby's face, breathing heavily. "You don't think so? Huh? You don't think I've given enough? You don't think I've paid enough? That my family has paid enough?! I'm done with it. All of it. And if you know what's good for you, you'd turn around and get the hell out of here."
Shaking his head, Bobby didn't say anything, letting Dean expel all of the pent-up range of emotions he was feeling. Never had Dean been easy or fair with himself. The weight of the world rested on his shoulders.
Angered at Bobby's lack of response, Dean charged forward and shoved him into the wall. "Go!"
Immediately realizing what he had done, Dean paused. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry, Bobby. Please...just go."
When pushing Dean didn't work, giving him his space was the next best thing. "You know where I'll be," Bobby said, defeated.
"Bobby?"
"Yeah?
"Can...can you take the kids with you?" Dean knew it was unwarranted.
"Seriously?" Bobby looked Dean right in the eye.
Dean nodded. He glanced back at Sam, shoulders immediately slumping. "Yeah. I am. I just...I can't handle it right now. It's...too much." All it took was Cara and Noah, and then Dean became vulnerable.
Understanding, Bobby nodded. "Of course. Like I said, you know where we'll be."
"Thank you, Bobby," Dean said with a sigh, starting to feel guilty for yelling and pushing him.
Bobby gave a nod before leaving, knowing that at least he could look after those kids so some of the burden could be lifted off of Dean.
Once Bobby and the kids had gone, Dean continued to grieve the loss of his baby brother. Gripping the bottle tightly, Dean glanced at Sam-Sam's body. Sammy was gone.
"You know, when we were little-you couldn't have been more than five-you started asking questions. How come we don't have a mom? Why do we always have to move around? Where did Dad go for days at a time? I remember I begged to stop asking questions, because you didn't want to know." Dean expelled a forceful breath. "I just wanted you to be a kid. Just for a little while longer. I always tried to protect you...keep you safe. Dad didn't even have to tell me. It was just always my responsibility.
"I had one job Sammy, and I screwed up. I blew it. I dropped the ball. When you went to Stanford, I forgot about and pretended that you didn't exist. All those times you needed me and I was so wrapped up with Alice and the kids that I neglected you. And for that, Sammy. I'm so sorry. But I guess that's just what I do, huh? I let down the people I love. I let Dad down. I've let Alice and the kids down. And now I guess I'm supposed to let you down, too."
The tears were flowing steadily now, cascading down his cheeks, and chin, staining the gray undershirt he wore. "But how can I? How am I supposed to live with that? What am I supposed to do?" Dean implored, pleading with Sam to tell him what to do. Sammy was so smart, always knew what to do, the right thing to say. "What am I supposed to do, Sammy? WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO DO?!" Dean screamed, his panged cries echoing around the wooden interior, resonating with the deep-seated anguish
The reverberations of his pain slowly faded, like ripples on water. Dean stood in the middle of the room, the bottle shattered after he had thrown it in his fit. Sam, unmoving.
Dean thought of Alice, who was out of her mind. He thought of Cara who tried so hard to keep it together; Noah who was unfairly thrust into a terrible situation; Bobby who was patient, even when Dean was at his worst; Sammy who had been taken from him.
And lastly, Dean thought of his dad. The two had always had a complicated relationship, didn't always see eye-to-eye, with Dean questioning some Johns' parental decisions. But in the end, John had come through and saved Dean.
With a sharp inhale, in a moment of clarity, Dean knew what he needed to do.
Breaking the stillness of the cabin, Dean grabbed his keys and left, slamming the door tighty behind him.
"Alice."
Turning around quickly, Alice snapped out of her reverie to see Olivia, who was standing behind her.
"Yeah?"
"You okay?" Olivia asked slowly.
Looking back, Alice peered at the small pond she had been staring at. The water was still, glassy, and blue. It was always deceiving when she was water that was so calm. The waters she'd known had been turbulent, loud, and gray. "Yeah. Just thinking."
Lips turning down slightly in concern, Olivia nodded. "Well, we can sit for a moment. Not like we're in a hurry or anything to get back." The blonde woman daintily took a seat on the edge of a nearby bench. Alice followed suit, knees and hips folding mechanically.
"Do you think they found Noah yet?"
Olivia gave a sad sigh. "Honey, I don't know. I'm sure they'll call when they find him."
Alice shook her head. "I should be there. I should be there looking for my son."
"You said it yourself: you need to take care of yourself before you can take care of them."
"I feel like I'm abandoning them."
"Are you planning on never coming back?"
"Of course not!"
"You're not abandoning them. Alice, everyone goes through rough patches. We all have jobs in life, and right now your job is to focus on yourself."
"And what's your job, right now?" Alice asked. "'Atone for your sins?'"
Olivia sighed. "It's to look after my family. Properly. God knows that last time I did that."
"You know I can't go home, right?"
Olivia raised her eyebrows. The plan had been to go back to Alice's house. That's what Alice wanted. That's what she said.
"Don't you think being in a familiar place will be nice?"
"Not without my kids. I can't be in that big house by myself." The last time Alice had been there, she had been in a fog. Robotic and on a mission. She remembered giving her kids the laced hot chocolate and carrying them out to the car. It had been her, but not. She was in full control of what she was doing, but her reasoning was tainted. "It's too painful." Alice remembered going back to Jan's house after she was killed. That was hard enough.
Olivia gave a heavy sigh and nodded. She understood. She was doing the same thing. Being in the house with Cliff had become stuffy and overwhelming and she had to go. She'd spent a lot of time thinking about how that was the least of what she deserved, and sat in that for as long as she could.
"Where should we go?" Olivia finally asked, genuinely curious to hear what Alice was going to say.
Alice thought for a moment. "Arizona."
"Any particular reason why?"
"Antelope Canyon."
"Oh I remember that place!" Olivia exclaimed, the name triggering a slew of memories in her head. It was a trip they had gone one when she and Alice were in middle school, before things had gotten complicated between their two families. Her father was still alive and Piper still talked to her.
"I've always wanted to go back. But I never got around to it," Alice said. There had always been something that was holding her back. Whether it was her parents, or taking care of her kids, or hunting with Dean.
Holding her back?
Is that really what I think about all of them? Alice thought to herself.
A memory pulled her back in time. She was a young mother, just having given birth to Noah several weeks before. After his birth, she had been plagued by postpartum depression. The doctor had told her when she had scary or shocking thoughts, to acknowledge them and then let them go.
So that's what she did.
"We can go there. A little R&R."
It felt wrong to say that when her son was missing, but the series of unfortunate events that had unfolded leading to this moment in time. And at this point, Cara and Noah were better off with their father for now.
"What are we waiting for? Let's turn this car around and head there." Alice stood from the branch and trekked back towards Olivia's car.
Dust was kicked up as Dean approached a four-way intersection. The Impala was parked haphazardly a few yards away, glittering particles caught in the cross-section of bright headlights. As he walked, Dean's shadow morphed in strange ways, stretching, long, thin, and gaunt across the ground.
The tin cigar box he held was shoved into the ground, and buried under dirt. Standing up, Dean looked around, breathing heavily, waiting. "Oh come on already. Show your face you bitch!"
Summoned by the angry response, a brunette woman in a revealing dress appeared in front of him. She took a step forward, her black stilettos somehow clicking against the soft ground. Her eyes flashed red. "Easy sugar. You'll wake the neighbors. Dean, it is so good to see you. I mean it. Just look at you." She gave a feline smile.
He knew he didn't look good. Couldn't remember the last time he showered. Face puffy from the tears that wouldn't stop, and stony at the same time, as he tried to mask the pain.
"Gone and got your family killed and torn apart. All alone. It's almost too sweet. You're going to have to give me a moment. Sometimes you just gotta stop and smell the roses, and remind yourself why you do this job."
"I should send you back to hell," Dean hissed through clenched teeth.
"Oh you should," the demon purred, lustfully. "But you won't. And I think I know why."
"Oh yeah?"
"Yeah. Following in Daddy's footsteps. You wanna make a deal. Little Sammy back from the dead and you offering up your soul." The demon looked proud of herself. "I wonder if either of your kiddos will end up following their dad's steps."
Suddenly filled with rage, Dean had grabbed the demon by her throat. "Shut your whore mouth. You don't mention my kids. Ever."
The demon shoved him away and smoothed down her dress. "We'll see about that."
"There are hundreds of other demon's who'd love to get their hands on it. Keep it up and I'll send you back to the land down under. If not, it's all yours. All you got to do is bring back Sam. And give me ten years. Ten years and then you come for me." Dean had done the math. Cara and Noah would be college age. They wouldn't need him anymore.
"You must be joking," she scoffed.
"That's the same deal you give everybody else."
"You're not everybody else. Why would I want to give you anything. For all I care, you can keep your gutter souls. It's far too tarnished anyways."
"Nine years."
"No."
"Eight."
"Honey you keep going, I'll keep saying no."
"Okay. Five years. Five years and my bill comes due. That's my last offer. Five years or no deal." Cara and Noah would be teenagers. But at least, he had five years to prepare them for-
"No deal."
"Fine."
"Fine." The demon turned away, throwing hair over her shoulder. "Make sure you bury Sam before he starts stinking up the joint."
That barbed Dean's heart. "Wait."
She closed her eyes, smirking softly to herself. "It's a fire sale and everything must go."
"What do I have to do?" Both Dean and the demon noticed the desperation reeking in his voice.
"First of all, quit groveling. Needy guys are such a turn off." She almost wanted to laugh at how pathetic he looked. "Look, I shouldn't be doing this. I could get in a lot of trouble. But what can I say? I've got a blind spot for you, Dean. You're...like a puppy. You're just too fun to play with...I'll do it.
"You'll bring him back?"
The demon nodded. "I will. And because I'm such a saint, I'll give you one year and one year only. One year to get your affairs in a row and prepare your family.
"But here's the thing: if you try and welch or weasel your way out, then the deal is off. Sam drops dead. He's back to rotten meat in no time. That's a better deal than your daddy ever got. What do you say?"
A million thoughts flashed through Dean's mind, all at the same time. He didn't want to stall and end up with nothing. Reacting, Dean grabbed the demon by the back of the neck. "Deal," he said, before latching his mouth to hers.
The empty aluminum can fell to the ground with a hollow thunk near Noah's dusty gym shoes. His knees were tucked tightly to his chest, back pressed to the reddish stucco wall of the motel they were in. He was hidden in the small alcove with a vending and ice machine, tucking away in the corner, hidden from view of anyone walking by.
Bobby and Cara were holed up in the motel room, poring over a map, surrounding the area of Cold Oak. They silently discussed things Noah had no interest in hearing. He didn't want to hear their theories: he'd spent plenty of time there and didn't need to relive any more of it.
"I'm going to get a pop," Noah had told them as he was tying his shoes.
Bobby told him to stay close, gave him a handgun, a knife, salt, and holy water, and one of Dean's extra cell phones, half-looking at the map, listening as Cara circled a section on the map, saying something about a 'dead zone'. As Noah left the room, anyone might've thought he was a lost kid trying to find his parents. On the contrary, he was a kid that had an entire arsenal hidden in his jacket pockets.
Clutched in one had was the navy blue flip phone Bobby handed him. Staring at the home screen, Noah thumbed over to an icon that was the outline of a person. Once in contacts, she scrolled down a few, still in the "A's" when he found the name he was looking for.
Allie. That's what Mom was in all of Dad's phones.
There was a moment of hesitation before Noah pressed the name, bringing the phone up to his ear.
It seemed to take forever to even ring once, as if the phone knew the receiver wasn't particularly looking forward to this number calling them. Noah didn't know if Mom was going to answer or not, but he needed to at least try.
Each ring dragged, growing the anxiety within Noah, causing him to hang up after the tone. Just as sure he was about to go to voicemail, the ring cut off and there was silence for a few seconds on the other end.
"...hello?" An unsure voice asked.
The voice was soft, low, and soothing. But Noah immediately knew it was his mom.
"Mom."
Just as Noah immediately recognized the voice, so did Alice. "Noah?" From her tone, it sounded like she sat up straight, not expecting to receive a call from him.
"Yeah. It's me."
"Oh baby, are you okay? Are you safe?"
"Yeah." He was glad she asked that second question. He was safe for now. He didn't think he was okay, though. "Dad found us."
She gave a deep sigh. "Thank God. Thank God you're safe. Noah I'm so sorry I couldn't be there for you. I should've been."
Cara had given Noah a quick summary of how Mom had been in the hospital and Bobby had busted her out. It was horrible to hear and think about, but the only thing Noah needed was to hear her voice right now. "I know, Mom. I just wanted to tell you that I was okay. I didn't want you to worry anymore."
"I'm always gonna worry about you."
"I know," he let out a laugh. I wish you were here Mom. When are you gonna come back? Get better so I can tell you how much I'm hurting. I need a hug really bad right now. I need you. Cara needs you. Dad really needs you right now. There were a thousand things Noah wanted to tell her, but they all sounded extremely selfish. Considering how much she had been through, Noah couldn't give her any indication things were anything but okay.
And that's why he decided not to say anything about Sam.
"Mom? I just need you to worry about yourself right now, okay? Everything here is fine. Dad's gonna take care of us for as long as it takes until you feel fine. You take your time and come back when you're ready."
There was a hitch in her breath, like she was about to cry. Concealing her emotions, same as her son, Alice paused before she spoke. "I will, honey. I will. I'll get back to you and your sister as soon as I can. But if you ever need anything, just call me. And if you say the word, I'll drop everything and come back."
He wanted to say the word. And he knew she would come back.
But he couldn't do that to her.
She'd given so much of herself for him and Cara.
Maybe they were the reason that she had finally snapped.
Maybe they were the ones that broke her.
So maybe her staying away from them was the best thing for her right now.
"I should probably go. I love you," Noah said.
"I love you too, baby. I'm so glad you're safe."
"Bye." Noah abruptly ended the call before he backpedaled and told her to come back.
By the time Noah came back to the motel room, there was a middle-aged woman he had never met before there. She was leaning against the wall, a beer in one hand. She swiveled her head and smiled lightly at the boy.
"Ellen...right?" He asked.
"That's right. And you're Noah?"
"That's me."
"It's nice to finally meet you, Noah." She stared at him, as if studying him.
"Is something wrong?" He asked.
Ellen shook her head. "Nothing. You just look a lot like your grandfather is all."
He didn't know how to feel about that. "Is that a bad thing?"
"Not at all."
"I heard about what happened. Sorry about the Road House."
"Thanks. That's very kind of you."
The group exchanged a few rounds of pleasantries before they were all sucked back into the map.
Someone had taken a black marker and drawn a series of lines across the map, connecting all the areas.
Frowning, Noah took a step back. "Is that a-"
"A giant pentagram? Yeah," Cara replied, gaze never leaving the map.
"And why is there a giant pentagram in the middle of Wyoming?"
"We think Colt put something there."
"The Colt. Like the Colt?"
"Yep."
"I thought it was missing?" Noah asked. It had gone missing when John died.
"It is. This isn't about the gun. This is about a fortified church and cemetery. One that Colt built." Bobby pointed to the epicenter of the pentagram.
"How do you know?" Noah asked, growing more curious. He edged a little closer to the map.
"The entire area is a dead zone," Cara said. "There's no activity. You see these lines? They're iron."
"Which means no demons can get in," Noah breathed.
Bobby traced the black lines. "I've been tracking the usual demonic signs-cattle mutilations, electrical storms, the whole shebang. They're circling this area. It's a lot. That's why I wanted your idjit father to get himself over here ASAP."
There was a lull of melancholy. Both kids had been hesitant to go with Bobby, hardly believing that Dean had told him to take them. They didn't know what was going on in either of their parent's heads, especially right now.
"He needed time," Cara said quietly.
"We all need time," Bobby muttered almost bitterly, the first time revealing a sense of weakness to the kids.
It was troubling to see Bobby be vulnerable about his emotions with them. Neither Cara or Noah had ever seen him be so open with his thoughts.
"Bobby," Ellen muttered lowly, through her teeth.
"Sorry, Cara. You're right. We all need a moment to breathe sometimes." Bobby glanced to Ellen, who nodded in approval.
A shrill, upbeat tone vibrated from Bobby's pocket. Glancing down at the number, he gave an aggravated sigh. "I've gotta take this call. I'll be right back."
Out the door, Bobby noticed the Impala idling in the parking lot.
Flipping his phone shut, Bobby stalked towards the vehicle. With the driver's window open, he leaned down, arms bracing against the window frame. "Dean what the-Sam."
Lackjaw for a moment, Bobby stared at his dead-but-newly-alive nephew. Snapping his jaw shut, Bobby glared at Dean.
"Sam." Bobby swallowed the word. "It's good to see you up and around."
"Yeah. Thanks for patching me up, by the way." Sam rubbed his lower back, where the fatal injury had been.
Dean glanced at Bobby, giving him a miniscule nod.
"Don't mention it."
Dean glanced at Sam. "Hey, I know it's last minute, but I have some things I've been meaning to pick up from the store. I'd really appreciate it if you'd get them."
Sam grabbed the long handwritten list and stared at it, quizzically. "Uh...sure. I can get all this."
"Great," Dean said, stepping out of the Impala.
Sam exited his side, nodding and smiling at Bobby, who tried his best to mimic the exchange.
"Can you get some cigarettes too?"
Sam turned and frowned.
"Ellen. It's a new habit."
Sam gave an understanding nod and turned into town, retreating from view.
Once Sam was out of view, Dean turned. "Ellen? It's good to hear she's-"
Bobby grabbed Dean and slammed him into the side of the Impala. "You stupid ass! What did you do?"
Wordlessly, Dean turned his head to the side.
"What did you do?" Bobby shook him harder.
Dean clenched his jaw.
Bobby pushed him further into the car. "You made a deal. For Sam. Didn't you?"
"What choice did I have?" Dean yelled back.
"How long?" The question was asked in a low, guttural voice.
"One year."
Bobby turned away. "Goddamnit Dean."
"What choice did I have? After what he's done to this family? I couldn't live without my brother."
"I could throttle you!"
"I know. I know." Dean took a deep sigh. "Sam is alive. You and him need to look after Cara and Noah."
Another surge of anger went through Bobby as he beat Dean into the car. "We're supposed to raise your kids for you?!"
"Alice will. She just needs time."
"How bout when she finds out you die in a year?!"
"I'll tell her. On my time."
"How bout your kids?"
Dean gave a deep sigh. "Do they need to know?"
Bobby wished he had something to beat Dean with in that moment. "I have a hunch they may deserve to know! You think they won't notice their dead uncle is inexplicably alive? And when you drop dead in a year?!"
"They're young...they'll be fine."
"Bull. Shit." Bobby glared at Dean.
Dean gave a deep, tired sigh. "Look, neither Sammy or the kids know. For now, we need to contain it-don't look at me like that. I'll tell them. On my own terms."
"What is it with you Winchesters and death? You just dying to throw yourselves down the pit?" Bobby snarked.
"That's my point. Dad brought me back, Bobby. I'm not even supposed to be here. At least this way, something good could come out of it, you know? I-I-It's like my life could mean something."
"Oh, it means something?" Bobby asked. "How about in ten or fifteen years when one of your kids goes looking for the truth if we all manage to keep this from them? Or when your brother eventually finds out? What is this gonna do to Alice? Huh? Finding out you made a deal is gonna break her clean in half!"
"If I'm the only thing holding this family together then it's not much of a family!" Dean shot back, louder than Bobby.
Bobby took an aggravated breath, letting Dean know he was not impressed or amused with him. "Well if you think we're not much of one now, what sad mess is gonna be left when you're gone?"
With a deflated sigh, Dean lost some of the fight that was in him. "Can we not fight? Please? What's done is done. I couldn't live without my brother Bobby. So please…"
Anger quickly faded away to sadness. Tears springing from his eyes, Bobby grabbed Dean and pulled him into a rough, tight hug.
"You're such an idjit," Bobby accused, once they pulled away.
"Yeah. I know." Dean tried to give a smile, it was a bit sad, but he was no longer grieving for his little brother.
"How are you gonna explain to Cara and Noah their dead uncle is inexplicably alive? Without mentioning your little deal?" Bobby asked, a little more kindly. He knew Dean would tell them on his own time, but didn't know how he planned on covering up that little fact.
"Hoodoo. A spell...I'll think of something."
Bobby wanted to yell again. Dean hadn't thought this through. He had gone in half-cocked and made a deal, not thinking about the consequences of his actions. Still, Bobby kept himself composed. Took a deep breath and nodded. "Well you better make it convincing if you want them to believe you."
"I know." Sometimes both kids were too smart for their own good.
"Hope you're good at lying on the spot, cause here they come."
Looking up the stairs, Dean saw Cara and Noah hanging their heads over the railing of the upper level. Upon realizing who was there, they disappeared from view, quick footsteps descending the railing.
Dean looked back behind him, knowing Sam would be at the store for a while-but still wary he was going to appear out of thin air.
Down the stairs, the kids appeared in front of their father, eyes wide, wordless.
Dean let out a breath he didn't know he had been holding, realizing that his kids were back with him, where they were the safest.
"Kids…" Dean began. "Let's go for a ride."
Cara and Noah glanced at each other, before nodding slowly. They moved towards the Impala, both climbing into the backseat. That was always an indication there was something wrong. Usually Cara and Noah were at each other's throats for a chance to get shotgun.
Dean gave one last look to Bobby, who shook his head, turning back towards the motel.
The engine turned over and the Impala sailed out of the parking lot. Dean drove a few miles down the road and found a city park with a lot nearby.
Once the car was shut off, Dean gave a sigh and took a deep breath.
Sliding into the passenger seat, Dean looked back. "You guys okay?"
There were slight nods from both of them, confusion as they looked out the window. "Where are we?"
Dean leaned forward over the steering wheel, squinting at a faraway sign. "Green Villa Park."
"What are we doing here?"
"We uh we need to talk. Come on." Dean exited the car. Cara and Noah shared an unsure glance, eventually following their father out of the car. He took a seat on a picnic bench.
Cara took a seat beside her father, Noah across from them.
The park was a peaceful area. There was a young mother pushing a stroller and walking her dog nearby. A teenage couple were sitting on two swings, lightly pushing themselves off the ground. There was a light breeze that created a slight rustling among the treetops.
It was almost rude how the world around them kept going on. People went to work and school. They had a routine. Their life was predictable. The worst thing that could happen to them was a speeding ticket or an overdue bill.
Again, it was unfair that Cara and Noah had been thrust into this life. But with hunting on both sides of their family, Dean no longer entertained the idea that they would return to a world before monsters. It was unavoidable and naive to think Cara and Noah wouldn't be hunters, or at the very least part of this world.
That was a revelation Dean had to make sure they would be as prepared as they could.
He had a year to teach them and give them as much as he could offer.
It was heart-wrenching that he only had a year left with them, Sam, Bobby, and Alice.
But at least they would all be safe and alive.
It was worth it to have Sammy back, though.
That demon had taken enough from him. Both parents, almost his brother, and the thing was gunning for his son.
It was time to finish this.
Fire ignited in him, Dean turned to Cara and Noah. "Uncle Sam is okay."
Cara nodded, as if accepting what he was saying. A few seconds later, when her brain finally computed the words and their meanings, her head snapped to the side, and she stared at her father, squinting her eyes.
"What?" Noah asked, quietly.
"Sam's alive."
"How?" Noah breathed.
"I found a contact in your grandpa's journal. Really obscure. By chance I found it."
"And who was it?"
"A shaman. One from a hunt my Dad and I went on decades ago. Sammy was too young to remember it."
"And?"
"I called him. He gave me a spell. Apparently your uncle had just been injured really badly."
"Are you saying Sam was never actually dead?" Cara asked.
Dean nodded. "Right."
"So he's alive?" That was really the only thing Noah had clung to.
"Yes. He's fine."
Not caring about anything, Noah jumped up from where he sat and threw his arms around Dean, hugging him tightly. "I thought he was dead. I was so worried about him." Maybe it was his sixth sense that had told him to withhold the information about Sam from his mom.
"Me too, bud. Me too," Dean replied, returning the hug, relieved that had gone smoother than he thought it would.
"Where was he when you got back?"
"He went to the store. I asked him to grab a few things."
"We need to go back, then. We need to finish this." Noah jumped up and started towards the car.
"Whoa whoa," Dean said, grabbing him by the wrist before he got out of reach. "We'll finish it. Okay? Can we just sit for a minute so we can breathe?"
Breathe? That was rich, Cara scoffed to herself, especially considering those were the words she used to defend her father from Bobby. But now, she could see why the older man felt the way he did about her dad. Her father was the one who became robotic when things went wrong. Hardly sleeping, hardly eating. And now here he was, literally wanting to stop and smell the roses in a random park.
"Uh...sure Dad. We can sit." Noah slowly returned to the table and sat back in his spot. He was still for about thirty seconds before he started twiddling his thumbs and glanced around, impatiently.
"So this shaman...what? You just called him up and he just gave you a spell?" Cara asked, playing the scenario through her brain.
"He owed us a favor."
"He remembered a favor from when you were a kid?"
"You know that phrase: elephants never forget? Well shamans never forget a favor. And speaking of that, can you two do me a favor?"
She chilled a bit at that word. Favor. That was what Phenex said when she sealed her fate by kissing him.
"Of course," Noah replied.
"Can you guys not tell Sam about the shaman? I told him that Bobby patched him up. The whole shaman thing would just worry him too much."
"We can do that," Noah responded, for the both of them.
"Right. Uh, Where in Grandpa John's journal was this contact?" None of it was making sense. Cara knew there was something else her dad wasn't explaining. She had never heard of a spell that could bring someone back from the "brink of death." Again, she didn't know if she believed that. She had seen Sam. There was no rise and fall in his chest, and his skin had been a pallid gray. And the fact now their dad wanted to keep it a secret.
"What's with the Twenty Questions?" Noah asked, turning to his sister. "Can't you just be happy that Uncle Sam is alive?"
"Of course I am! I'm just trying to figure out what's-"
"Noah," Dean said, trying to dispel the tension.
"Why do you always have to play detective? With the amount of crap we've been through, can't you just take the win? Can't you just believe what Dad said and leave it at that?" Noah stood up from the picnic bench. "We've got enough going on already. I'm gonna go sit in the car."
"Noah."
"Let him go. I don't know what happened while they were over there," Cara supplied. Normally, Noah telling her off would've rubbed her the wrong way, but she was glad he was safe. And apparently she was still a crappy big sister.
She knew what it had taken to even get information about her brother. Her mind was worriedly spinning about what it would take to bring someone back from the dead.
"Still doesn't mean our family can't get along."
Another ironic point.
"Dad…"
"What honey?"
"Nothing."
"Are you ready to go?" Dean asked, letting the issue go for now. He knew Cara didn't fully buy the story, but for now, he wasn't going to give her a reason to keep asking.
The two headed back to the car. When they reached it, Noah had claimed the front seat for himself.
The group had reconvened back in the motel room. Dean and the kids returned before Sam. When he entered the room, arms full of groceries, Noah stood up and ran into Sam, nearly knocking him and all the bags onto the floor. There were peals of laughter and Bobby and Ellen both grabbed the white plastic bags so Sam could properly hug his nephew.
Dean watched with a small smile, while Cara glanced at him, mind still working.
When everyone had reacquainted themselves, they turned their attention back to the map. Sam was as awed by the devil's trap they had found as everyone else had been familiarized with the map.
"Well, what's so important about that church or cemetery? Unless Colt is trying to protect something," Sam suggested. He surveyed the room. You think Colt is keeping something out? Or is he keeping something in?"
The fleet of cars parked at the edge of the graveyard, on soft, uncut grass.
A thick fog hung in the air, perhaps a permanent cloak, guarding a secret hidden among those headstones. Some of the tombstones were tall and proud, angels, crosses, and gargoyles creating strange shadows in the dark. Other stones were cracked in half, crooked, taken over by nature. There was a low hum, like the earth vibrating in an attempt to hold secure.
A handful of flash lights attempted to cut through the dense fog, instead sending fractals of yellow beams bouncing against the tightly packed vapor droplets.
"Positions," said a low voice as the flashlights extinguished, and quiet footsteps dispersed.
Sam continued alone in the mist, carefully stepping through the cemetery, making sure not to step on any headstone.
Stopping, Sam watched a squeaky gate open a few yards away from him. A man in army fatigues slipped through the fence, and made his way towards an imposing crypt in the back corner of the cemetery.
Face turning red in anger at the man who had literally stabbed him in the back, Sam stepped out of the thick fog. "Howdy, Jake."
Starting, Jake paled. "Wait...you're dead. I killed you."
From that, Bobby, Ellen, and Dean all emerged from where they were hiding, weapons blazing. Cara and Noah were tucked away behind a large headstone of a weeping angel holding a rose. Noah had a sawed-off pumped and loaded. Cara had her finger hovering over the trigger of a handgun, pointed at the ground.
"Yeah?" Sam growled. "Well maybe next time? Finish the job."
"I did!" Jake returned, alarmed. I cut clean through your spinal cord. You cannot be alive. You can't be." Surprised by Jake's insistence, Sam glanced at his brother, who's gaze flicked down to the ground for a moment.
"Okay, just take it easy there son," Bobby warned.
"And if I don't?!" Jake yelled back.
"Wait and see," Sam threatened, seething.
"What? You're a tough guy all of a sudden? Maybe if you were a little earlier, you could've saved your friends."
"Watch it," Sam growled.
"Easy," Dean muttered lowly.
"What are you gonna do? Kill me?" Jake goaded.
"It's a thought."
"You had your chance and couldn't."
"I won't make the same mistake twice."
"I killed you once, I can do it again," Jake threatened. "What do ya say, Sammy? A final showdown? Just you and me? No kids to get in the way this time."
From his place, Noah revealed himself, gun raised to Jake's head. "Sorry, I'm still here to get in your way."
"Noah. Noah!" Cara whispered harshly as she grabbed at Noah's pant leg, while still keeping herself hidden. Dad was supposed to give them a signal of when to come out. And right now surely wasn't that.
All the adults turned towards Noah, while Jake chuckled lowly. "Well well well, look at you cowboy. Go ahead, pull the trigger. Do what your uncle wasn't able to."
"Noah, don't," Dean urged.
Sam glanced at Noah. As much as he wanted Jake dead, he wanted to be the one to do it. "Noah, give me the gun and I'll finish the job."
The whole event caused Jake to start laughing.
"What's so funny, you little bitch?" Dean growled, trying to play goalie between Noah and Sam discussing who got to shoot Jake, while making his son stand down, and making sure they accomplished what they were there to do.
"Hey lady?" Jake turned to Ellen. "Point that gun at your head."
In response, Ellen's arm shakily moved until the barrel of the gun was pressed against her temple.
"Once you give in, Sam? All those Jedi mind tricks are yours to enjoy."
"Let her go."
"Shoot him," Ellen said, trying to keep her voice steady.
"You'll be mopping off skull before you can get a shot. Everyone put your weapons down! Except you sweetheart."
Reluctantly, Sam, Dean, and Bobby dropped their weapons.
"That means you too, Peewee," Jake commanded to Noah.
"Drop it," Dean told him lowly.
Frustrated, Noah put his weapon down like everyone else.
"Good boy," Jake taunted, nearly causing Sam and Dean to pick up their guns and empty the clips into his face.
Satisfied, Jake pulled the Colt out of his back pocket, everyone stiffening at the sight of it.
The last time they had seen it had been when John was still alive.
Palming the famed weapon, Jake stared at it. This was the thing that everyone was so obsessed about? He didn't get it. But hey...bigger picture, he supposed. At the door of the crypt, Jake placed the gun into a depression in the stone. Perfect fit.
With his back turned, the adults jumped into action. Dean and Bobby each grabbed one of Ellen's arms, yanking the gun out of her hand, pulling her backwards. Sam grabbed his own weapon and shot a few rounds into Jake's back, causing the man to fall to the ground with a gasp.
Walking over to Jake, Sam kicked the man over with his foot. On the ground, Jake's teeth were stained red with blood. He weakly held up his hands. "Please...don't."
With a determined, pissed off expression, Sam emptied the rest of his gun into Jake's face.
As he wiped the blood off of his face, Dean and Bobby walked up to the crypt, examining Jake's body and the Colt. Noah slowly came up behind them, looking between Bobby and Dean to see what was going on.
He caught sight of Jake's mangled face between them and took a large step back at the gruesome scene.
Four quadrants of the crypt door suddenly lit up, and the unknown engravings began to separate and change.
"Oh no."
"Bobby, what is it?" Ellen asked.
Cara peeked up her head from the headstone she was behind.
Dean pulled the Colt from the groove it was in.
"It's Hell," Bobby muttered.
The ground rumbled lowly.
"Take cover. Now!" Bobby yelled, darting away from the structure.
The four adults scattered in different directions, Dean grabbing Noah around the waist, hauling the two of them back behind a statue of a gargoyle.
The doors of the crypt suddenly flung off the hinges, blasting outwards as a torrent of black smoke shot out of the structure. A mixture of low tonal chanting and hissing slithered through the air raising the hair on everyone's arms.
"What the hell just happened?!" Dean yelled across to Bobby, bracing himself a few tombstones away. Dean had both arms wrapped tightly around Noah, who was gripping the head stone with one hand, the other wrapped around Dean's arm.
"That's a devil's gate! A damn door to hell!" Ellen yelled, her hair blowing back against the force of wind. "We need to close it!"
Letting go of his son, Dean used his free arm to check the Colt for bullets. If the demon had given it to Jake then maybe-
There was a loud clap of thunder, accompanied by a flash.
"Dad!" Noah yelled.
Whipping around, Dean came face to face with Yellow Eyes.
With a flick of his hand, the demon sent the Colt flying from Dean's hand.
"Boys shouldn't play with Daddy's gun," Yellow Eyes tsked. He gave a light jerk of his head, wrenching Noah from Dean's arms as the father went flying through the air, landing hard on his back, the air knocked out of his lungs.
Seeing his brother on the ground, Sam abandoned the door he was helping Ellen close, running to his brother.
Alone in front of Yellow Eyes, Noah tried to hold his ground. The last time he'd seen the demon was in a memory of when he was a baby.
With a crooked grin, the demon reached a hand, causing Noah to flinch. He clapped his hand on Noah's shoulder. "It's not your time yet, kid."
An invisible force sent Noah back into a tall, flat headstone. Trapped, he was like a bug caught on flypaper.
Turning to his other chosen child, Yellow Eyes sent Sam into his own headstone. "I'll get to you in a minute, champ. But I'm proud of you. I always knew you had it in you."
Dean was the next one to be tossed against his own head stone.
"Sit a spell." Yellow Eyes came and crouched in front of him. "So Dean, I gotta thank you. See, demons can't resurrect people unless a deal is made."
A shock went through Cara's body from where she stood, mostly hidden.
"I know: red tape. It'll drive you nuts. But thanks to you, Sammy's back in rotation. Now I wasn't counting on that, but I'm glad. I liked him better than Jake."
Bobby and Ellen were struggling to hold the doors shut. Sam, Dean, and Noah were all struggling against the invisible force of the demon.
"Tell me, had you ever heard of the expression: if it sounds too good to be true, it probably is?" Yellow Eyes asked.
"You call that deal good?"
"Well, it's a better shake than your dad ever got. And you never wondered why? I'm surprised at you. I mean...you saw what your brother just did to Jake. That was pretty cold, wasn't it? How certain are you that what you brought back is all pure Sam?
"After all, Dean-o, you of all people should know that's what's dead should stay dead."
As Yellow Eyes continued to monologue, a bullet suddenly tore through his shoulder, close to the neck.
Angered, the demon spun around, seeing a shaking little girl with a smoking gun.
"You should've used the Colt," Yellow Eyes advised, taking a predatory step towards Cara.
She gave a shrug. "If I had that I would've aimed for your head."
The demon shook his head, no longer amused. "You. You, Cara, have been a thorn in my side every time I've encountered you." He came a little closer and paused.
"But I've heard some whisperings among my followers. You owe a favor to a demon you've been close to in the past." He smirked. "You're just like your daddy. Summoning demons to save your family." Mouth at Cara's ear, Yellow Eyes whispered to her: "We'll see when Phenex comes collecting."
The demon jerked suddenly and stumbled away from Cara.
A gun expelled from a bullet.
In shock, the occupants of the graveyard looked at the shooter.
A ethereal John Winchester held the demon from behind as Dean, free from his force, held the Colt in one hand.
The black smoke and John Winchester began to wrestle for dominance. The duo moved closer and closer to the devil's gate. When suddenly, John forced the smoke back, and the doors snapped shut, as if held tight with a magnet.
The only sound left was the heavy breathing of the living.
John approached his oldest son. He placed a hand on Dean's shoulder and smiled. Next, he reached his grandson and offered a hand to help Noah stand. Once Noah was on his feet, John approached Cara. He bent down and chucked the side of her chin. Finally, he rose and turned to look at Sam. The two stared at each other for a long moment, John ultimately nodding and smiling.
Sam nodded back as John evaporated into the sky.
Cara pulled her dirty hair into a ponytail. She sat on a set of stone steps and wrapped her arms around her knees, taking a deep breath.
In front of her, Dean paced back and forth, muttering to himself.
Finally stopping, he crossed his arms. "Okay. You better explain yourself before I start yelling."
"Well...what did you hear?" Cara began.
Dean shook his head. "No. No. We're not doing that. You tell me what happened."
"I...owe a demon a favor."
"Yeah I got that. Yellow Eyes said it was one you knew well...Phenex?"
"Yeah." She turned her gaze towards the ground.
"Why?"
Silence.
"Cara, why?" Dean demanded, grabbing her by the chin, so she was looking at him.
"To find Sam and Noah."
"Bobby found them."
She shook her head. "Because of me."
Dean decided he'd play along with her. "When?"
"At Bobby's. When Mom was there. I...went to the basement and summoned Phenex."
"How the hell did you do that?" Dean demanded.
"A book," Cara deadpanned.
"And what the hell were you thinking?!"
"I was thinking I could control something! Help somehow! I felt useless! I was just a dead weight to you and Bobby and the least I could do was try and figure out where they were."
"Cara, you're not a dead weight. You're just a kid that I don't want mixed up in any of this."
"Well it's too late for that," she retorted.
Dean gave an aggravated sigh and crossed his arms. "And what did Phenex say? What's the favor you owe?"
She shrugged. "I don't know. He never said. Just that one day he'd come to cash in."
Dean shook his head. "I'm not happy with that. It was a stupid thing to do. I'm gonna find a way to undo it. You hear me?"
"Got it. Guess we all do stupid things for our families."
"Yeah. We do," Dean replied shortly.
Cara stared at her father for a minute and then scoffed quietly. "So that's it. Just gonna pretend I didn't hear what the demon said either?"
"And what would that be?"
Her eyebrows furrowed. "You made a deal for Sam. Sold your soul for his life. Not that I needed to hear him say that. Pretty much figured it."
"Cara listen-"
"Dad, you don't have to explain yourself to me," Cara said, standing up. She hopped off from the steps. "I get it."
"You get it?"
"Yeah. I get why you did it. I would've done the same thing." She paused, waiting for her father to say something. When he didn't, she continued. "You couldn't live without your little brother. I get it." There had been a time when both Dean and Cara were living without their siblings, wonder if the younger part of the duo was alive. And now those counterparts were alive. At the sake of their siblings.
"You shouldn't have to get it, Cara."
She shrugged. Sometimes she did too. This wasn't the first time her dad had wished in front of them that they weren't part of this world. It was wishful thinking, because at this point, they were deep in the trenches with no light at the end of the tunnel.
"Look...we've got ten years to figure this out, okay?" Cara said, trying to bring some comfort to her dad.
A bucket of guilt washed over Dean. "No we don't."
"I know I know I'm only a kid, but I can help," Cara begged, pulling on the sleeve of his jacket.
"It's not that, hon."
"What? What is it? Dad, you're scaring me."
Dean squatted down so he was near eye level with Cara. "C'mere."
She stayed where she was.
"Cara," Dean implored.
She shook her head. "No."
"Cara."
Her head kept waving from side to side, glasses beginning to creep down her nose. "No. Cause if I do I know you're gonna tell me something I don't wanna hear."
Dean dropped his arms and sat down on the ground with a heavy sigh.
Cara frowned. "What are you doing?"
"One year. That's what I have."
"No. No. No." Cara muttered to herself.
"Hey hey. C'mere. You are fine," Dean quickly reiterated.
I'm here.
Cara began to hyperventilate as Dean grabbed her and clutched her tight. Cara squeezed her eyes shut and held on tight, knowing that soon, her father wouldn't be there to comfort her.
It was a quiet night. A net of stars strung across the sky, creating a soft glow in the dark.
In two lawn chairs sat Dean and Sam. Each had a beer in one hand, a celebratory bottle of whiskey with accompanying glasses on the dirt between them.
"Do you...do you think Dad really climbed out of Hell?" Sam asked, taking a sip of his beer.
Dean shrugged, looking out onto the graveyard of cars. "The doors were open. And if anyone were stubborn enough to do it, it would've been him."
"To Dad." The brothers clinked their whiskey glasses, cheering to their stubborn bastard of a father, a man who had given them both different kinds of grief their entire lives, but in the end, had been there to lay down his life for them.
"You know, there's something that's still bothering me."
Dean closed his eyes and clenched his jaw. "And what's that?" He tried to keep his voice carefree.
"In the graveyard, when Jake saw me, it was like he had seen a ghost. I mean hell, you heard him Dean. He said he killed me."
"Glad he was wrong," Dean replied shortly.
Sam looked down the neck of his bottle. He sloshed it around. Really, there was no more beer, only foam. "I don't think he was." Pause. "Dean, what happened? After I was stabbed."
"I already told you," Dean responded dodgily.
"Not everything."
A tired sigh came from his older brother. "Sam, we just killed the demon. Can't we just celebrate for a minute?"
He turned to his brother. "Did I die?"
"Oh come on," Dean huffed. He stood up. "You want another beer?"
Sam was up behind his brother. "Did you sell your soul for me? Like Dad did for you?"
"Oh come on no!" Dean repeated.
"Tell me the truth."
Dean looked down at the ground and sniffled.
"Dean, tell me the truth," Sam demanded.
"Sam…" Dean lost his resolve, dropping the facade that everything was fine, no longer denying it.
"How long do you got?" Sam's voice wavered, scared of what the answer was going to be.
"One year. I got one year."
Upon hearing that, tears immediately flood Sam's eyes. "You shouldn't have done that. How could you do that?" Sam asked desperately, panicking at the thought.
"Don't get mad at me. Don't you do that. I had to."
"What about Alice? What about your kids? How are they gonna feel when they found out what you did?" Sam demanded.
"Cara knows. She figured it out."
"And how'd she react?" Sam demanded.
Dean was silent. Obviously she hadn't taken the news well.
"And Noah?"
Dean shook his head. "He doesn't know. I'll tell him."
"How could you do that?" Sam asked again.
"I had to look out for you. That's my job," Dean implored.
"And what do you think my job is?"
Not expecting that, Dean turned to Sam. "What?" What was he talking about?"
Sam grabbed Dean by the shoulders. "You've saved my life over and over. I mean, you sacrificed everything for me and this family. Don't you think I'd do the same for you?" Sam felt his heartbreaking, seeing as Dean couldn't comprehend how anyone would do the same for him. "You're my big brother, Dean. There's nothing I wouldn't do for you. And I don't care what it takes. I'm gonna get you out of this. Guess I gotta save your ass for a change."
"Yeah," Dean muttered. He didn't trust himself to say anything else.
Sam pulled Dean into a tight hug, evening out his breathing. Dean had given literally everything for Sam and this family. So now, it was Sam's turn to return the favor.
The two settled back down onto their chairs, fresh beers and whiskey glasses filled.
A few moments later, their uncle joined them, dragging his own lawn chair, and supplying his own bottle of whiskey.
The boys looked at him and quirked their eyebrows.
"What?" Bobby asked as he plopped down beside them. "I ain't sharing."
The brothers held up their hands in defense and chuckled lightly.
"You boys know that Yellow Eyes may be dead, but who knows how many demons made it through the gate," Bobby remarked somberly.
"How many did he think?" Dean asked.
"Hundred. May two hundred. He released an army," Sam estimated.
"Hope you boys are ready. Cause the war is just begun," Bobby muttered into his bottle.
Dean glanced to Bobby and then his brother. "Well then...tonight we enjoy our drinks. Cause tomorrow...we got work to do."
There it is! End of Season 2! I want to thank everyone who has continued to support me and read this story.
In the reviews, give me any predictions or suggestions for things you want to see.
Hope everyone is doing well and staying safe.
V.