Epilogue

Dean limped behind the counter of the deserted bar. Looking around to make sure no one had seen him, he quickly dug through the cabinet until he found a nice cold bottle of beer. Satisfied with his find, he sat down on one of the bar stools and had just popped the lid off when the bottle was tugged out of his hand.

"Hey!" he said indignantly.

"Nice try," Jo said, sitting down on a stool beside him. "Next time, don't leave the bar door open." She handed him a bottle of water as if to compensate for his lost drink.

"Come on, it's one beer. What harm could that do?" he asked, feigning innocence.

"Well, considering the fact that you're still doped up on pain meds, a lot," Jo replied, taking a swig of the compensated beer.

"What are you, my mother?"

"What are you, five?"

"Apparently, since I can't even have one friggin' beer!"

Jo hid a smile. They had been at the Roadhouse for a week, and Dean was well on the road to recovery. Most of the slashes had healed, the infection and fever had gone away, and he was slowly regaining his strength. Although his right arm was still almost useless, what with the stab wounds, the burn, and the broken bone, that hadn't stopped Dean from reverting back to his old, cocky self.

"When are they getting back?" she asked, taking another sip. Sam had arrived at the Roadhouse the day after they did. The Impala, however, did not. Sam and Ellen had left the day before to go jailbreak the muscle car from the police impound it was currently held captive in.

Dean glanced at his watch. "Any minute now, actually."

"You tried to sneak a beer when they could burst through the door at any moment?" Jo smirked.

"Hey, when you're desperate…" Jo thought his smile looked a little forced. She looked at him more closely. His shoulders were hunched forward and his eyes looked…sad. Maybe he had wanted a beer for more than just pleasure.

"What's wrong, Dean?" she asked as she leaned against the counter.

He glanced at her. "Nothing."

"Don't give me that bullshit." Dean gave her a calculating look, then sighed.

"It's just something the demon said. It's not important."

"What did she say?" she asked gently.

Dean took a long drink of the water before answering. "I should have saved more of those people. At least the last one. If we had gotten there just a little sooner, we could have saved him. He died right in front of us." He stared despondently at the bottle in his hand.

"You did the best you could."

"That's the point! I did my best, and he still died. I couldn't save him. I should have been able to, but I didn't. I failed," he finished, clenching his jaw.

"Dean look at me." When he didn't do as she said, she reached her hand up and gently forced his head to look at her. "That was not your fault. You weren't the one who tortured and murdered those people. That was the demons. This is not on you."

"But I…"

"It's not your fault," Jo continued, ignoring his interruption. "That was a difficult hunt. Two other hunters had failed to do it before you heard about it. Don't listen to the demon, she was wrong. It's not your fault. You did not fail. You stopped the demons from killing more people. You succeeded."

"But the last guy…"

"And how many other people have you saved on other hunts, Dean? You do good work. You're a damn good hunter, one of the best I've ever seen. Don't forget, you saved both Sam's and my ass back there in the barn. I don't know anyone else who would've been able to throw a knife while barely conscious, let alone hit their target. Would a failure be able to do that?"

Dean stared at her, letting her words sink in.

"Demons lie, Dean. She was trying to manipulate you. Don't let her screw with your head after you've already killed her. You're not a failure, you're a hero."

Dean studied her for a moment before a small smile appeared on his face. "Thanks, Jo," he said quietly, pulling her into a one-armed hug.

"Anytime, Dean," she replied, returning the embrace.

The roar of the Impala broke through the silence of the bar. Dean glanced towards the door, all traces of his inner turmoil wiped off his face as he grinned.

"About time my baby got here."

Jo watched him limp towards the door. His physical wounds were on the mend, and now hopefully his mental ones were as well. She watched Dean's back stiffen as the Impala got close enough for him to see the damage to the drivers-side window.

"Sam!" she heard Dean yell. "What the hell did you do to my car?!"

Yeah, Dean was going to be just fine.

A/N: That's it! I hope everyone enjoyed the story! Thank you so much for sticking with me to the end and for all the reviews! You guys are awesome!