Fic: Gen PG- Six Things Dean wants to do, and One he doesn't
6 Things Dean Wants do Do, and One He Doesn't
Indus
Rating: Gen, PG
Spoilers: All episodes so far, including 2.22
Summary: Title should pretty much give it away
Characters: Sam, Dean, a few others thrown in for minor parts
Pairing: Past pairings mentioned, all canon.
Warning: Deathfic- again!
Disclaimer: Own nothing! Except student loans.
Dedicated to D and his Mom, and the journey they've taken together, and the three and a half years they had to do it in. D- you'll never read this, but I hope you feel it, and I hope she's found her peace.
1
When Dean suggested the Grand Canyon, it wasn't just a line to get Sam off the topic of their father's last words. He'd really meant it. It had been like a family, a home- stuff he wanted to do when the war was over and he had the rest of his life not being on a mission.
Of course, he'll never get that now. The rest of his life is only a year, and while his original mission is over, there are too many demons around for him to ever think of taking that time off from the hunt. He's sacrificed so much, given up what no one should have to give up, but Dean can't step aside and trust others to take care of the innocents. Not when they were there to see the release of demons as bad as the Yellow-Eyed-Son of a Bitch, not when so many families could be torn apart like his was.
Still, he's sure there'll be hunts near there, and he thinks he's earned the chance to visit the Canyon. He's heard it's spectacular, and while he's never studied the art, he's always wanted to be a photographer. Something about losing everything in a fire made him respect mementos of the past. All he has are the photographs that were saved, and his memories, which fade as time passes.
Besides, he wants to see Sam at the Canyon. His favorite memory of his little brother is the way those hazel eyes would widen every time they saw something new. When he was a baby, they were perpetually that way, especially if he flashed something shiny over the kid's eyes, but later it was rarer, and therefore cooler when Sammy was awestruck. Now, he never sees it at all. But the Canyon is said to inspire awe in everyone.
So next time a hunt takes them to the area, he'll make a detour and go there. To see it for the first and last time, and to watch Sam see it.
2.
This one's a shock to Sam. Dean wants to go to Lawrence to see their mother.
He doesn't want the stone the uncle they don't know put up; that place meant little to Dean in the past, now it's associated with a painful memory he doesn't want to revisit. The older Winchester, the oldest Winchester, has no desire to return to the house that's no longer haunted by their mother either. It may be where she lived, but it's also where she died.
So instead, Dean drives the Impala to some familiar spots. Most of the places, like the little grocery store and the park she took the boys to, are closed, replaced with big chains. He's saddened by that, but not resentful, because the Winchesters have survived on places like that with their discount prices and anonymity, but he kinda thinks their mother would have protested if she'd been alive to see it. She'd been like that. He tells Sam that, even though it's still hard to talk about her. But Sam eats it up, and its a reminder. In a few months, Sam will be all that's left of their family, and the only one to carry on the stories of the people who were their parents.
He doesn't go to Missouri, but he knows Sam does when he's sleeping in the next morning. It may take an earthquake to raise him when he doesn't have to get up, but in that big-brother way he's always had, he's conscious enough to realize that Sam's up and out at some obscene hour, and he knows where the kid is headed. Sam doesn't even ask him to come along- knows he's terrified of what the strong, blunt woman will say to him after what he did. Just like he knows she'd want to know, that she'll cry for him and promise to help Sam find a way out of the deal.
But he doesn't think she can, or she would have for the bastards who've done this before. He called and asked her, after John, and she'd just been silent. She couldn't reach his mother before, so he doesn't bother to ask her to do it now.
Later, when Sam's back with breakfast, he ignores the tear stains on his little brother's face. It's always been easier not to talk about stuff. Easier for him, and even though he's gotten better about discussing things this last year for Sam, he thinks he's earned the right to silence. Not like Sam won't have the rest of his life to talk things out, but even he's not cruel enough to say that. Especially since all Sam has to point out that he won't have anyone to talk to and he'll have one more reason to feel like he's let someone he loves down.
But before leaving town, there's one last place he wants to go, and he'll take Sam, and he'll talk, and for now, that's going to have to be enough. He doesn't tell Sam where, just asks if he's ready and they pack up and leave. Sam just does what he asks, silent, obviously thinking. When they stop at the preschool, Sam perks up a little and looks around. Before he can ask, and he will, Dean offers that this was his, that he came here for a while, and that their mother would come for the last half-hour once a week when they had the kids and a parent do some Mommy and Me activities like planting things or playing music. He said this deprecatingly, with no little guilt. As much as he'd tried, there'd been some things he'd been unable to give Sam.
But Sam doesn't work that way. He's happy to know things like this, and now that he's seen their mother he can picture it. Sure, he's often resentful for what he went through, but now with all he knows he doesn't think he has the right. His resentment is geared towards their lives, their father when John was still alive, and not the brother he understands did everything to save their family. Sam may have said a lot in the past about Dean following John's orders, but he's older now, and he gets it.
It's good that school's out, because Dean picks the lock and unhesitatingly follows his memories to a classroom with chairs so small Sam couldn't even fit one foot on their seats. Later, all he'll remember are bright colors and big shapes all over, because he only focuses on Dean. His brother's obviously lost in a past Sam's never known, when life really was this simple. For the first time, Sam truly wonders whether its better to have loved and lost than never having loved at all.
Eventually, Dean walks out, carefully locking the door behind him, and goes into a small garden. There's a plant outside that he walks to immediately, and tells Sam he planted it with their mother the last time they were there, days before she died. It's big and full-grown, but at the time it was a seed that he put into the soil they'd dug up together. Sam can see it, his brother's little hands carefully handling the tiny hint of life, while his mother smiles at her son. And even though Dean hasn't said anything, Sam knows he was there in a carrier, probably asleep, and wonders how much he figures in these memories that seem to be all about Dean and Mary. He's too tired to feel anything over what they lost, but he remains silent and cries as Dean crouches and begins to speak.
He apologizes to his mother for being too afraid to visit earlier. Then he tells her he loves her, and apologizes again but this time for the year the man they both adored spent in hell. Sam moves then, puts his hand on Dean's shoulder, but still doesn't speak. Finally, the older man says he's sorry again, but this time there's no explanation. How do you ask forgiveness for an eternity apart, for an ever that you won't have together? And when Dean wipes away his own tears and stumbles back to the car, Sam leans down and tells his mother that he'll find a way. Don't worry, he thinks, when my lifetime with Dean is over, we'll all be together again. If he can't manage to save Dean's life, he'll save his soul, like John's.
When they drive away, Sam looks back and memorizes the place. He'll come back, like he'll go back to the empty grave, when he proposes to the woman he'll spend the rest of his life with, when she tells him she's pregnant and when his son is old enough to travel with them to visit the places that still echo with Mary's laughter and Dean's quiet happiness.
Dean doesn't even turn his head this time, because he knows he won't return. It took him more than two decades to come back, and he only has a few months.
3.
Dean begins his own journal the day after he kills the YED. It fills in the blanks of John's book, documenting ways to kill things and the story of the cowboy cemetery and Samuel Colt for another generation. He doesn't say anything, but he likes the idea of Sam's kids using it one day. Of course, he hopes their Dad is there to guide them, and that they do it to save people when they want, not because they have to.
Like his father, he keeps part of the journal for his memories. He writes down the oddest things there, and it ranges from the moment he killed the demon, the first thing he puts down because it's fresh, to the night he lost his virginity and dude, that was a moment that should go down in history.
There are things he wants to leave for Sam, like the evenings when John would come home and kiss both his sons and their mother, and everything was perfect in the way it should be for children. There is more, from later when everything went bad, because there had been good memories then too, like barbecues in the park, campings on the side of the road when the brothers had eating contests and John forgot the hunt long enough to laugh and cheer them on, congratulating the winner, consoling the loser, and cleaning up both of their vomit without a word of complaint.
He puts down some of the painful moments, like the months and years after Sam went to Stanford, because that's important for his little brother to know too. Interspersed with accounts of binge-drinking and the breakdown of their family, there are hints of the abandonment Dean felt, especially when John left before his older son woke up one morning with just a note announcing that they were now hunting separately. But there is also documentation of the many visits they made to Stanford, including a scouting mission after their credit checks show Sam getting an apartment with a girl. Dean thinks to put down that his father liked Jessica because that's the kind of thing his little brother wants to hear.
There's stories of hunters too, beyond the important information that's put in other places in the journal. Things he knows others might forget, and a generation later no one will know since hunters survive by leaving as few tracks as possible. He starts with Pastor Jim and recognizes the man who had not begotten but who was father to hunters everywhere, young and old. He mentions Bobby's eccentricities and kindnesses and the fact that Daniel Elkins made sure they got the Colt to kill the YED before he lost his life. There are memories of Ash, because Dean can think of no other way to thank the man who lost his life probably only because he knew the Winchesters, and still managed to save the world. And he writes about Andy because Dean actually liked the dude the way Dean rarely gets a chance to like people, and the little guy saved his life, told him where his brother was (despite the headache he gave him getting the message across), died fighting a battle he'd never had a chance of winning and lived a life with no other ambition other than happiness. Even though he'd had the power to have anything, do anything, all Andy had done was look for peace and contentment and love, kind of like Dean. He even asks Sam for more information from Andy's last hours, and snickers while he records downloaded gay porn. Not for the first time, he wonders why the most interesting people are the first to go. It's as if the demons don't just want an evil world, but a boring one too!
Sam sees him writing, and though he wants to protest another sign that Dean's giving up hope, he doesn't. Aside from the fact that's he beginning to too, and doesn't want Dean going with regrets, he can't help thinking this is cathartic and healthy. There's a lot Dean's suppressed for a long time.
4
Dean goes back to Cassie. Without going into detail about his soul and Sam's death, he explains that he doesn't have long, but he's not suffering from some disease. She's shocked and saddened by the news and, he thinks, grieving over the loss of what will never be, the future she and Dean will never have. He continues his stance of telling her things he's never told another woman, confessing that she's the only person who's ever let him dream of a future and a family, and she's the only one to tempt him away from his family and the hunt. Even Carmen, who never existed outside of the pages of a magazine, would not have meant half as much as she did had it not been for Mary, Sam and Jessica standing beside her.
He sleeps with her, and even though she has a boyfriend she initiates it and participates with enthusiasm and a sweetness their passion left little time for in the past. When he leaves her bed in the early morning, she thinks he whispers that he loves her, but she pretends to be asleep. He's too well-trained to fall for it, but it's a kindness she can afford, knowing good-byes are difficult for him, and she doesn't want their last memories of each other to be awkward. But she can hear him in the kitchen, and she knows he's found the coffee and note she got up in the night to leave for him. It's short and sweet, asking him to take care of himself, and telling him she loves him.
He leaves as quietly as he comes, in the car that is home and love and family and a million other things, to join his brother and continue his journey.
She doesn't see him again, but when she finally gets up she sees a note with Sam's number on it. Sitting on a chair, fingering the note, the one thing, she thinks, he gave her, she finally breaks down and weeps.
Two days later, she'll finally break up with the boyfriend she now knows will never be enough, and a month after that she'll know Dean left her with so much more than a piece of paper covered with careless scrawl and dotted with tears.
5.
He takes Sam to Sarah, and pushes him at the pretty gallery-owner. Dean called before, and with his usual bluntness asks if she's seeing someone, and if she's still interested in Sam. Taken off-guard, she's obviously going with offended beyond belief when he tells her he's got weeks left, and wants Sam to know what's there when his brother's not.
He knows he chose right when Sarah's voice cracks with tears and sincere sorrow. She tells him she's available and God, interested, and invites him over. It's an old town, and Dean finds a haunt, and since there are just weeks left Sam hides his suspicions and goes without complaint.
They sleep together this time. It's been long enough that the pain of Jess has dulled, and doesn't stop Sam from looking for happiness where he can find it. With the death of the YED, he no longer feels like he's doomed to be a warrior for the forces of hell, and though the whole demon blood thing has him wondering if he should ever have kids, he's barely 25 and at this point he and Sarah can't think that far ahead. Besides, she's stubborn and strong and more than able to kick his ass if she needs to, so Dean lets himself hope for a future when he sees them together.
They only have a day, and Sam comes with a lot of baggage, so after a night together they're no further than they were before, and part easily. But Dean's sure that when things are bad for Sam, he'll know this is a place he can come.
And for now, that has to be enough.
He says good-bye, and receives a hug he barely knows how to return. When he says good-bye, he does look back at the huge house, the beautiful woman and the culture, sophistication and permanence he's never been able to give his little brother. It's as if this is everything Sam ever wanted, and maybe its significant that Dean can't even imagine having it. But he's come to terms that their dreams are different, and that the only one they really shared was the one that was realized in Wyoming almost a year ago.
But he's lived his life trying to give Sam what he's wanted, as far as he's able, so he tries to give this to him. And when Sam looks out his window, hiding his tears, Dean knows its not for Sarah but because he knows what his brother is trying to do.
6
He goes to the pound and picks the biggest, fuzziest dog he can find. It's a hopeless mutt, with parentage as varied and interesting as Dean and Sam's, and no chance at all of ever becoming useful. It's got a sweet disposition and would probably go crazy trying to lick an incorporeal spirit. It's perfect.
For the first and last time, he lets an animal ride in his beloved car. Dean knows he picked well when Sam leans over and pets the dog until the whining and scratching (and Dean's yelling) gets to him and he crawls into the backseat and wrestles around with it. By the time they get to Bobby's place, the dog has a name- Shaggy, which fits its description.
Sam's been in constant contact with the older hunter, so they know that Ellen is still staying with Bobby. When Dean gets drunk, his traitorous mind punishes him with nightmarish images of what they might be up to together, but in his sober moments he gets that Bobby's letting her heal the way he did for them almost two years ago. When they pull up, he sees the car and realizes Jo is there too, and changes his mind. He doesn't have the strength to say good-bye to all three of them, and besides, he's been wondering if he can say the words at all to the man who has shown him so much kindness.
He tells Sam to stay behind because the clunky klutz will give them away, and ties the dog to the porch. It won't be for long, Sam's exhausted the mutt for now but when it wakes up and gets hungry, it'll make enough noise to wake the dead. Sitting down, he tears one of the last empty pages out of the journal and writes a quick note-This is Shaggy. Thanks for everything. Take care of Sammy. Not for the first time, he wishes he had Sam's words, but he doesn't, and this is Bobby. He'll understand.
Before he gets into the car, he stands and stares around him. He rebuilt his baby here, learned to live without John here, received guidance and affection and strength here, and he is so grateful. He thinks of the meetings that sometimes went on here, with Jim, who he still misses, and all those hunters he cared for and respected. Some of them died on the job, some in the roadhouse, but some still remain fighting the good fight, and he silently wishes them well.
Sam isn't crying, he's shed enough tears on these grounds, and he'll be back. Like before, Sam will heal in Bobby's home and this time Shaggy will be there.
Dean wonders if Sam knows the dog is there for him.
7
Dean doesn't want to die. He's done everything he should, so he closes the journal and he knocks Sam over the head and steps over the weird herbs and salt lines his younger brother carefully laid that morning. He walks out into the dark night to meet his fate, and knows he's ready.
But there's a whole lot of distance between ready and willing, and Dean's realizing that as his heart pounds and aches and he gets what his dad suffered. It doesn't seem fair that going to hell should be so difficult and scary, when fear and pain are all that await you anyway...
He doesn't regret his decision to save his brother, and he's glad he got to see the end of the YED and the redemption of his father's soul, but he wants to see his brother become a man, graduate, get married. And mortifying as it might be, he thinks it would be cool to see Sam finally become a lawyer too.
When he hears the hounds, he closes his eyes and wills his body to stay still. He won't run and hide, he won't demean his last moments that way, but he doesn't want to die. He wants to grow old, he wants to have kids, and he wants his children to plant seeds in the ground with him like he did with his mother. He had dreams too, and maybe they weren't as grand and glorious as Sam's, but he likes to think that they were just as deserving of fulfillment.
They're upon him before he can breathe, but he doesn't struggle against the savage attack. Maybe that's why when Sam regains consciousness and finds him, his soulless body is barely marked. His eyes are open in an expression of fear. There's no smile, no expression of peace, but Sam doesn't think hell is an option even Dean can take lightly. Still, there's little horror, and even the fear is tempered by the strength that has pulled his older brother through everything he's faced.
Sam doesn't remember burning his brother's body, but he knows he did, after removing the amulet and ring his brother always wore. One he'll bury with his father's dogtags at his mother's headstone, while the other he'll put in the soil with the plant his brother planted so long ago.
He goes back into the motel near the library they'd come to in a last-ditch attempt to save Dean's soul. He's not lost about what to do next- he'll go to Bobby's, and the two, with some help, he's sure, from Jo and Ellen, they'll find some way to redeem Dean's soul. Eventually, when that's done, he'll go after the life Dean wanted him to have, but he'll never stop hunting. It's the family business, and he gets that now even if its possible to walk away from this war, he can't.
But he needs some time to process the fact that even if he can save his soul, he can't do anything about Dean's life. He's alone in a way he's never been before, not even when he was at Stanford, and he needs to come to terms with that. But when he collapses on the bed near the door, Dean's bed, he thinks, more tears pouring down his face, he feels something under him, near the scar from the wound that killed him. He pulls out the journal and it falls open to the last page Dean filled out, dog-marked to ensure that it is the first thing Sam sees. There's a longer letter with advice and instructions (many pertaining to the car), one that ends with the first I love you his brother has said to him since reaching puberty, that Sam will find later, but this is a simple note his brother scratched out just before hitting him, leaving the room, and dying.
Live, damn you.
On the page immediately opposite is a list of contacts, other hunters, and at the bottom, the number of a few law schools' admissions offices. Sam knows he has to first clear his name, get his diploma, but for right now it's enough to know that he has Dean's blessing.
It's enough to realize he'll never be alone.
THE END- please review!
Indus
Rating: Gen, PG
Spoilers: All episodes so far, including 2.22
Summary: Title should pretty much give it away
Characters: Sam, Dean, a few others thrown in for minor parts
Pairing: Past pairings mentioned, all canon.
Warning: Deathfic- again!
Disclaimer: Own nothing! Except student loans.
Dedicated to D and his Mom, and the journey they've taken together, and the three and a half years they had to do it in. D- you'll never read this, but I hope you feel it, and I hope she's found her peace.
1
When Dean suggested the Grand Canyon, it wasn't just a line to get Sam off the topic of their father's last words. He'd really meant it. It had been like a family, a home- stuff he wanted to do when the war was over and he had the rest of his life not being on a mission.
Of course, he'll never get that now. The rest of his life is only a year, and while his original mission is over, there are too many demons around for him to ever think of taking that time off from the hunt. He's sacrificed so much, given up what no one should have to give up, but Dean can't step aside and trust others to take care of the innocents. Not when they were there to see the release of demons as bad as the Yellow-Eyed-Son of a Bitch, not when so many families could be torn apart like his was.
Still, he's sure there'll be hunts near there, and he thinks he's earned the chance to visit the Canyon. He's heard it's spectacular, and while he's never studied the art, he's always wanted to be a photographer. Something about losing everything in a fire made him respect mementos of the past. All he has are the photographs that were saved, and his memories, which fade as time passes.
Besides, he wants to see Sam at the Canyon. His favorite memory of his little brother is the way those hazel eyes would widen every time they saw something new. When he was a baby, they were perpetually that way, especially if he flashed something shiny over the kid's eyes, but later it was rarer, and therefore cooler when Sammy was awestruck. Now, he never sees it at all. But the Canyon is said to inspire awe in everyone.
So next time a hunt takes them to the area, he'll make a detour and go there. To see it for the first and last time, and to watch Sam see it.
2.
This one's a shock to Sam. Dean wants to go to Lawrence to see their mother.
He doesn't want the stone the uncle they don't know put up; that place meant little to Dean in the past, now it's associated with a painful memory he doesn't want to revisit. The older Winchester, the oldest Winchester, has no desire to return to the house that's no longer haunted by their mother either. It may be where she lived, but it's also where she died.
So instead, Dean drives the Impala to some familiar spots. Most of the places, like the little grocery store and the park she took the boys to, are closed, replaced with big chains. He's saddened by that, but not resentful, because the Winchesters have survived on places like that with their discount prices and anonymity, but he kinda thinks their mother would have protested if she'd been alive to see it. She'd been like that. He tells Sam that, even though it's still hard to talk about her. But Sam eats it up, and its a reminder. In a few months, Sam will be all that's left of their family, and the only one to carry on the stories of the people who were their parents.
He doesn't go to Missouri, but he knows Sam does when he's sleeping in the next morning. It may take an earthquake to raise him when he doesn't have to get up, but in that big-brother way he's always had, he's conscious enough to realize that Sam's up and out at some obscene hour, and he knows where the kid is headed. Sam doesn't even ask him to come along- knows he's terrified of what the strong, blunt woman will say to him after what he did. Just like he knows she'd want to know, that she'll cry for him and promise to help Sam find a way out of the deal.
But he doesn't think she can, or she would have for the bastards who've done this before. He called and asked her, after John, and she'd just been silent. She couldn't reach his mother before, so he doesn't bother to ask her to do it now.
Later, when Sam's back with breakfast, he ignores the tear stains on his little brother's face. It's always been easier not to talk about stuff. Easier for him, and even though he's gotten better about discussing things this last year for Sam, he thinks he's earned the right to silence. Not like Sam won't have the rest of his life to talk things out, but even he's not cruel enough to say that. Especially since all Sam has to point out that he won't have anyone to talk to and he'll have one more reason to feel like he's let someone he loves down.
But before leaving town, there's one last place he wants to go, and he'll take Sam, and he'll talk, and for now, that's going to have to be enough. He doesn't tell Sam where, just asks if he's ready and they pack up and leave. Sam just does what he asks, silent, obviously thinking. When they stop at the preschool, Sam perks up a little and looks around. Before he can ask, and he will, Dean offers that this was his, that he came here for a while, and that their mother would come for the last half-hour once a week when they had the kids and a parent do some Mommy and Me activities like planting things or playing music. He said this deprecatingly, with no little guilt. As much as he'd tried, there'd been some things he'd been unable to give Sam.
But Sam doesn't work that way. He's happy to know things like this, and now that he's seen their mother he can picture it. Sure, he's often resentful for what he went through, but now with all he knows he doesn't think he has the right. His resentment is geared towards their lives, their father when John was still alive, and not the brother he understands did everything to save their family. Sam may have said a lot in the past about Dean following John's orders, but he's older now, and he gets it.
It's good that school's out, because Dean picks the lock and unhesitatingly follows his memories to a classroom with chairs so small Sam couldn't even fit one foot on their seats. Later, all he'll remember are bright colors and big shapes all over, because he only focuses on Dean. His brother's obviously lost in a past Sam's never known, when life really was this simple. For the first time, Sam truly wonders whether its better to have loved and lost than never having loved at all.
Eventually, Dean walks out, carefully locking the door behind him, and goes into a small garden. There's a plant outside that he walks to immediately, and tells Sam he planted it with their mother the last time they were there, days before she died. It's big and full-grown, but at the time it was a seed that he put into the soil they'd dug up together. Sam can see it, his brother's little hands carefully handling the tiny hint of life, while his mother smiles at her son. And even though Dean hasn't said anything, Sam knows he was there in a carrier, probably asleep, and wonders how much he figures in these memories that seem to be all about Dean and Mary. He's too tired to feel anything over what they lost, but he remains silent and cries as Dean crouches and begins to speak.
He apologizes to his mother for being too afraid to visit earlier. Then he tells her he loves her, and apologizes again but this time for the year the man they both adored spent in hell. Sam moves then, puts his hand on Dean's shoulder, but still doesn't speak. Finally, the older man says he's sorry again, but this time there's no explanation. How do you ask forgiveness for an eternity apart, for an ever that you won't have together? And when Dean wipes away his own tears and stumbles back to the car, Sam leans down and tells his mother that he'll find a way. Don't worry, he thinks, when my lifetime with Dean is over, we'll all be together again. If he can't manage to save Dean's life, he'll save his soul, like John's.
When they drive away, Sam looks back and memorizes the place. He'll come back, like he'll go back to the empty grave, when he proposes to the woman he'll spend the rest of his life with, when she tells him she's pregnant and when his son is old enough to travel with them to visit the places that still echo with Mary's laughter and Dean's quiet happiness.
Dean doesn't even turn his head this time, because he knows he won't return. It took him more than two decades to come back, and he only has a few months.
3.
Dean begins his own journal the day after he kills the YED. It fills in the blanks of John's book, documenting ways to kill things and the story of the cowboy cemetery and Samuel Colt for another generation. He doesn't say anything, but he likes the idea of Sam's kids using it one day. Of course, he hopes their Dad is there to guide them, and that they do it to save people when they want, not because they have to.
Like his father, he keeps part of the journal for his memories. He writes down the oddest things there, and it ranges from the moment he killed the demon, the first thing he puts down because it's fresh, to the night he lost his virginity and dude, that was a moment that should go down in history.
There are things he wants to leave for Sam, like the evenings when John would come home and kiss both his sons and their mother, and everything was perfect in the way it should be for children. There is more, from later when everything went bad, because there had been good memories then too, like barbecues in the park, campings on the side of the road when the brothers had eating contests and John forgot the hunt long enough to laugh and cheer them on, congratulating the winner, consoling the loser, and cleaning up both of their vomit without a word of complaint.
He puts down some of the painful moments, like the months and years after Sam went to Stanford, because that's important for his little brother to know too. Interspersed with accounts of binge-drinking and the breakdown of their family, there are hints of the abandonment Dean felt, especially when John left before his older son woke up one morning with just a note announcing that they were now hunting separately. But there is also documentation of the many visits they made to Stanford, including a scouting mission after their credit checks show Sam getting an apartment with a girl. Dean thinks to put down that his father liked Jessica because that's the kind of thing his little brother wants to hear.
There's stories of hunters too, beyond the important information that's put in other places in the journal. Things he knows others might forget, and a generation later no one will know since hunters survive by leaving as few tracks as possible. He starts with Pastor Jim and recognizes the man who had not begotten but who was father to hunters everywhere, young and old. He mentions Bobby's eccentricities and kindnesses and the fact that Daniel Elkins made sure they got the Colt to kill the YED before he lost his life. There are memories of Ash, because Dean can think of no other way to thank the man who lost his life probably only because he knew the Winchesters, and still managed to save the world. And he writes about Andy because Dean actually liked the dude the way Dean rarely gets a chance to like people, and the little guy saved his life, told him where his brother was (despite the headache he gave him getting the message across), died fighting a battle he'd never had a chance of winning and lived a life with no other ambition other than happiness. Even though he'd had the power to have anything, do anything, all Andy had done was look for peace and contentment and love, kind of like Dean. He even asks Sam for more information from Andy's last hours, and snickers while he records downloaded gay porn. Not for the first time, he wonders why the most interesting people are the first to go. It's as if the demons don't just want an evil world, but a boring one too!
Sam sees him writing, and though he wants to protest another sign that Dean's giving up hope, he doesn't. Aside from the fact that's he beginning to too, and doesn't want Dean going with regrets, he can't help thinking this is cathartic and healthy. There's a lot Dean's suppressed for a long time.
4
Dean goes back to Cassie. Without going into detail about his soul and Sam's death, he explains that he doesn't have long, but he's not suffering from some disease. She's shocked and saddened by the news and, he thinks, grieving over the loss of what will never be, the future she and Dean will never have. He continues his stance of telling her things he's never told another woman, confessing that she's the only person who's ever let him dream of a future and a family, and she's the only one to tempt him away from his family and the hunt. Even Carmen, who never existed outside of the pages of a magazine, would not have meant half as much as she did had it not been for Mary, Sam and Jessica standing beside her.
He sleeps with her, and even though she has a boyfriend she initiates it and participates with enthusiasm and a sweetness their passion left little time for in the past. When he leaves her bed in the early morning, she thinks he whispers that he loves her, but she pretends to be asleep. He's too well-trained to fall for it, but it's a kindness she can afford, knowing good-byes are difficult for him, and she doesn't want their last memories of each other to be awkward. But she can hear him in the kitchen, and she knows he's found the coffee and note she got up in the night to leave for him. It's short and sweet, asking him to take care of himself, and telling him she loves him.
He leaves as quietly as he comes, in the car that is home and love and family and a million other things, to join his brother and continue his journey.
She doesn't see him again, but when she finally gets up she sees a note with Sam's number on it. Sitting on a chair, fingering the note, the one thing, she thinks, he gave her, she finally breaks down and weeps.
Two days later, she'll finally break up with the boyfriend she now knows will never be enough, and a month after that she'll know Dean left her with so much more than a piece of paper covered with careless scrawl and dotted with tears.
5.
He takes Sam to Sarah, and pushes him at the pretty gallery-owner. Dean called before, and with his usual bluntness asks if she's seeing someone, and if she's still interested in Sam. Taken off-guard, she's obviously going with offended beyond belief when he tells her he's got weeks left, and wants Sam to know what's there when his brother's not.
He knows he chose right when Sarah's voice cracks with tears and sincere sorrow. She tells him she's available and God, interested, and invites him over. It's an old town, and Dean finds a haunt, and since there are just weeks left Sam hides his suspicions and goes without complaint.
They sleep together this time. It's been long enough that the pain of Jess has dulled, and doesn't stop Sam from looking for happiness where he can find it. With the death of the YED, he no longer feels like he's doomed to be a warrior for the forces of hell, and though the whole demon blood thing has him wondering if he should ever have kids, he's barely 25 and at this point he and Sarah can't think that far ahead. Besides, she's stubborn and strong and more than able to kick his ass if she needs to, so Dean lets himself hope for a future when he sees them together.
They only have a day, and Sam comes with a lot of baggage, so after a night together they're no further than they were before, and part easily. But Dean's sure that when things are bad for Sam, he'll know this is a place he can come.
And for now, that has to be enough.
He says good-bye, and receives a hug he barely knows how to return. When he says good-bye, he does look back at the huge house, the beautiful woman and the culture, sophistication and permanence he's never been able to give his little brother. It's as if this is everything Sam ever wanted, and maybe its significant that Dean can't even imagine having it. But he's come to terms that their dreams are different, and that the only one they really shared was the one that was realized in Wyoming almost a year ago.
But he's lived his life trying to give Sam what he's wanted, as far as he's able, so he tries to give this to him. And when Sam looks out his window, hiding his tears, Dean knows its not for Sarah but because he knows what his brother is trying to do.
6
He goes to the pound and picks the biggest, fuzziest dog he can find. It's a hopeless mutt, with parentage as varied and interesting as Dean and Sam's, and no chance at all of ever becoming useful. It's got a sweet disposition and would probably go crazy trying to lick an incorporeal spirit. It's perfect.
For the first and last time, he lets an animal ride in his beloved car. Dean knows he picked well when Sam leans over and pets the dog until the whining and scratching (and Dean's yelling) gets to him and he crawls into the backseat and wrestles around with it. By the time they get to Bobby's place, the dog has a name- Shaggy, which fits its description.
Sam's been in constant contact with the older hunter, so they know that Ellen is still staying with Bobby. When Dean gets drunk, his traitorous mind punishes him with nightmarish images of what they might be up to together, but in his sober moments he gets that Bobby's letting her heal the way he did for them almost two years ago. When they pull up, he sees the car and realizes Jo is there too, and changes his mind. He doesn't have the strength to say good-bye to all three of them, and besides, he's been wondering if he can say the words at all to the man who has shown him so much kindness.
He tells Sam to stay behind because the clunky klutz will give them away, and ties the dog to the porch. It won't be for long, Sam's exhausted the mutt for now but when it wakes up and gets hungry, it'll make enough noise to wake the dead. Sitting down, he tears one of the last empty pages out of the journal and writes a quick note-This is Shaggy. Thanks for everything. Take care of Sammy. Not for the first time, he wishes he had Sam's words, but he doesn't, and this is Bobby. He'll understand.
Before he gets into the car, he stands and stares around him. He rebuilt his baby here, learned to live without John here, received guidance and affection and strength here, and he is so grateful. He thinks of the meetings that sometimes went on here, with Jim, who he still misses, and all those hunters he cared for and respected. Some of them died on the job, some in the roadhouse, but some still remain fighting the good fight, and he silently wishes them well.
Sam isn't crying, he's shed enough tears on these grounds, and he'll be back. Like before, Sam will heal in Bobby's home and this time Shaggy will be there.
Dean wonders if Sam knows the dog is there for him.
7
Dean doesn't want to die. He's done everything he should, so he closes the journal and he knocks Sam over the head and steps over the weird herbs and salt lines his younger brother carefully laid that morning. He walks out into the dark night to meet his fate, and knows he's ready.
But there's a whole lot of distance between ready and willing, and Dean's realizing that as his heart pounds and aches and he gets what his dad suffered. It doesn't seem fair that going to hell should be so difficult and scary, when fear and pain are all that await you anyway...
He doesn't regret his decision to save his brother, and he's glad he got to see the end of the YED and the redemption of his father's soul, but he wants to see his brother become a man, graduate, get married. And mortifying as it might be, he thinks it would be cool to see Sam finally become a lawyer too.
When he hears the hounds, he closes his eyes and wills his body to stay still. He won't run and hide, he won't demean his last moments that way, but he doesn't want to die. He wants to grow old, he wants to have kids, and he wants his children to plant seeds in the ground with him like he did with his mother. He had dreams too, and maybe they weren't as grand and glorious as Sam's, but he likes to think that they were just as deserving of fulfillment.
They're upon him before he can breathe, but he doesn't struggle against the savage attack. Maybe that's why when Sam regains consciousness and finds him, his soulless body is barely marked. His eyes are open in an expression of fear. There's no smile, no expression of peace, but Sam doesn't think hell is an option even Dean can take lightly. Still, there's little horror, and even the fear is tempered by the strength that has pulled his older brother through everything he's faced.
Sam doesn't remember burning his brother's body, but he knows he did, after removing the amulet and ring his brother always wore. One he'll bury with his father's dogtags at his mother's headstone, while the other he'll put in the soil with the plant his brother planted so long ago.
He goes back into the motel near the library they'd come to in a last-ditch attempt to save Dean's soul. He's not lost about what to do next- he'll go to Bobby's, and the two, with some help, he's sure, from Jo and Ellen, they'll find some way to redeem Dean's soul. Eventually, when that's done, he'll go after the life Dean wanted him to have, but he'll never stop hunting. It's the family business, and he gets that now even if its possible to walk away from this war, he can't.
But he needs some time to process the fact that even if he can save his soul, he can't do anything about Dean's life. He's alone in a way he's never been before, not even when he was at Stanford, and he needs to come to terms with that. But when he collapses on the bed near the door, Dean's bed, he thinks, more tears pouring down his face, he feels something under him, near the scar from the wound that killed him. He pulls out the journal and it falls open to the last page Dean filled out, dog-marked to ensure that it is the first thing Sam sees. There's a longer letter with advice and instructions (many pertaining to the car), one that ends with the first I love you his brother has said to him since reaching puberty, that Sam will find later, but this is a simple note his brother scratched out just before hitting him, leaving the room, and dying.
Live, damn you.
On the page immediately opposite is a list of contacts, other hunters, and at the bottom, the number of a few law schools' admissions offices. Sam knows he has to first clear his name, get his diploma, but for right now it's enough to know that he has Dean's blessing.
It's enough to realize he'll never be alone.
THE END- please review!