DISCLAIMER: Well, Thanksgiving has come and gone, and nope, no Supernatural/Winchester boys-ownership for me to be thankful for. But I sure am thankful for the show and the boys, nonetheless, and for the incredible talents of Eric Kripke, Jared and Jensen, and the rest of the awesome cast/crew for bringing it all to us. Happy Thanksgiving, hope everyone had a great one!

SPOILERS: Anything from Hollywood Babylon and back, and also a couple of things from Folsom Prison Blues for this final chapter.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

My Strongest Weakness

PREVIOUSLY: "Jerk."

"Bitch."

"Captain Q-Tip."

"Damn bandages…"

Chapter 28

Four days after Dean had frantically rushed him through the emergency room doors, Sam 'Gaines' was officially discharged from the hospital, after being given a completely clean bill of health from Doctor Thomas, with the final examination overseen by Nurse Wilma, of course. Parting instructions and precautions for both Sam and Dean had been given and fond farewells were exchanged…for once, the elder Winchester had actually taken a liking to a hospital staff along with his ever-polite and always agreeable brother. And Dean had of course delighted in the fact that Sam was required to exit the hospital by wheelchair, but even more so in his ability to be the one to push Sam along. His bandages had been allowed to come off the day prior to Sam's discharge, and Dean had instantly engaged in the celebratory behavior of annoying his younger brother with the newly functional fingers – poking Sam all over and messing with his long locks until Wilma, much to Sam's relief, unexpectedly caught Dean in the act and threatened to put the bandages back on. The youngest Winchester's hair had remained untouched for the rest of that day.

Now, nearly an entire two states away from the hospital, safely riding inside the Impala in their usual positions, Dean decided it was retribution time. He reached out with a smirk and no warning...and ruffled.

"De-ean!" Sam groaned, smoothing down the now displaced chestnut strands. "What the hell, dude?"

"You had that one comin'," Dean grinned. "Now that Mrs. Flintstone isn't here to save ya."

Sam stared incredulously at his recently turned twenty-eight year-old brother. "What are you, like, five?" Dean only laughed, and Sam couldn't stop himself from joining in the laughter seconds later.

Hours later and about forty miles into Indiana, Sam fell asleep for the first time since his last night in the hospital, long legs slightly curled and head resting against the window. Dean looked on the sight in relief and satisfaction. His baby was now complete again…because his baby brother was riding in the seat beside him. "We got him back, ol' girl," Dean whispered with a gentle pat to the Impala's dashboard. "We got him back…" Quietly as he could, Dean picked up his cell phone and dialed a number he now knew by heart. "Where are ya, old man?"

"Uh-huh, don't wanna hear it, dude," Dean answered Dusty with a smile. "My baby here is forty years old and ya don't hear her complainin'!"

"Yeah, sure…so did ya ring me for a reason 'sides gettin' on me n' my vehicle's case?"

Dean shot a brief glance over to his younger brother again. "Yeah…Sammy fell asleep, and not only does the Sasquatch look like he could use a more comfortable bed, but I'm getting a little road-weary myself. Thinkin' we could use a motel right about now."

"Sounds good…meet'cha at the first one we come across. Over n' out."

That motel turned out to be a Super 8, much to Sam's relief. It was a decidedly nicer place to stay than the ones Dean usually dragged him into. Dusty ended up procuring a room a few doors down from theirs, and all three men slept peacefully until around 9:00 AM when the eldest hunter woke his younger companions to tell them he had some unfinished business to take care of and to meet them at Elaine's Eatery around 1:30 in the afternoon. Sam had no idea what Dusty's unfinished business was, but Dean, remembering the diner and what institution was located a short drive away, had a pretty good idea.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

"Gordon Walker?"

The jailed hunter raised his head upon hearing the guard call his name and shot him a withering glance, causing the younger man to shift nervously upon the balls of his feet. A new recruit, obviously.

"You, uh, have a visitor."

Gordon's interest immediately peaked and he let the jittery guard escort him to the appropriate room. His last visitor had been none other than Dean Winchester, freaking out over the loss of his beloved baby brother and threatening to tear Gordon to pieces when he confessed how he had given the location of the only object that could save Sam Winchester's life to another rational hunter. He smiled at the fond memory. The smile grew even larger as he saw that it was said newfound partner in crime on the other side of the glass. He picked up the phone. "Well, well…if it isn't Ben Williams."

Dusty grinned, readily stepping back into the role of the unsavory hunter's accomplice that he had expertly played nearly a week ago. "That's me."

Gordon nodded. "So…why back so soon? You wouldn't happen have to any news to give me, would ya? Say, I don't know…maybe somethin' concerning some boy in his early twenties, about six-foot-four, long brown hair…tragically found mutilated with no explanation?" he queried with a smirk. "Goes by the name of 'Sam Winchester', freaky psychic powers…fool of an older brother?"

"Maybe…maybe not."

"Come on, old man…spill," Gordon demanded. "'Cause I gotta tell ya, I'm not the most forbearing of men... Did you find that spear, or not?"

"We found it, alright…an' just in the nick'a time, too."

The imprisoned man's dark eyes narrowed. "Who's 'we'…and 'in the nick of time' for what?"

"Why, Dean Winchester an' myself, of course…an' just in the nick'a time to save Sam, naturally. Ya see, I gotta tell you, Gordy, I'm not the most forgiving of men…'least not when someone purposely does me wrong like you done."

"Who the hell are you?"

"A friend," Dusty replied casually in an intended direct repeat of the last time Gordon had asked him that question before adding, "A friend of the Winchester brothers…a foe to you!" He tapped his chin in mock-thought after fixing Gordon with a knowing glare. "Or wait…what was that you called me last time we talked…? Oh yeah, I remember now… 'Some ol' nothin' of a former hunter' at your service here, you lousy thievin' piss-poor excuse for a man!"

"You…" Gordon finally got out, masking his defeat and anger under a vacant stare and voice tone. "You owned the other spear before I—"

"Stole it?" Dusty finished emphatically. "Well...give that bastard a prize, he finally figured it out! Let's see…I think 'life in prison' oughta be a suitable 'nough reward. Though with all the shit that you put those Winchester boys through, all that brain-dead crock you believe about Sam, who, by the way, has more good in him that you could ever hope to have even if the Good Lord Himself sneezed in your face…I'd give ya several lifetimes in prison." Dusty smirked, knowing that somewhere inside that stoic countenance, Gordon was cursing enough to make a sailor blush. "Well, Gordy, love'ta stay n' chat, but I've got two other infinitely higher life-forms awaitin' my company. Just wanted to let ya know that Sam Winchester an' his brother are just fine, the humanoid familiars are now totally extinct, and you, my bad fella, don't get a smidgen of the glory for makin' 'em that way. S'what ya were goin' for when ya stole my spear, right?"

"You could say that," the addressed man replied in a falsely collected manner.

"Well, so glad it all worked out for ya the way it did," Dusty laughed, standing up to leave. "So long, Walker…an' if ya ask me, it'll never be long enough."

"The feeling's mutual," Gordon ground out through clenched teeth, composure rapidly waning.

"Good to know," the older hunter grinned before taking his parting shot and sealing his victory. "Who's 'past his prime' now?" Dusty didn't wait for a response as he hung up the phone and exited the chamber, smiling to himself the whole way out to his truck.

Minutes later, he pulled into the lot of Elaine's Eatery and parked beside a familiar black 1967 Chevy Impala, the owner of which was waiting inside along with his younger brother. "Score's all settled boys…let's hit the road."

Dean grinned. "Oh man, Dusty…you are so tellin' Sammy and me about this one later." And the old hunter did, much to the brothers' amusement and delight.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Three days, two more motels, and eight hours later found the Winchester brothers back to the old auto salvage yard in South Dakota that had become their second home…after the Impala, of course. The sun was low but the spirits were high, as evidenced by the mirth erupting from the small circle of hunters that sat in four crude lawn chairs, cold beers in hand, enjoying the pleasant evening and each other's company…not to mention a few embarrassing stories, all at one hunter in particular's expense.

"Ha! You're damn serious?" Dusty Bennett guffawed, looking from Dean to the man that sat across from him for confirmation of what he'd just said. "He threw pepper on an angry spirit?!"

"Yeah, sure did," Bobby Singer replied with a grin and a slap to Dean's back. "And get this…after he did it, he naturally got a sneezin' fit to beat the devil!"

More chortles exploded from the two older hunters and his brother, causing Dean to groan. "Aw, come on, Bobby! First off, I was eleven freakin' years old…second off, the salt and pepper shakers in that lady's kitchen weren't labeled or see-through." The amusement didn't die down upon Dean's surprisingly valid excuse, and though he was pretending to be annoyed and offended, he was glad of that fact. Hearing that uncontainable, high-pitched, distinctive Sammy-laughter overtaking the quiet evening was worth any good-natured jibe that could be thrown at him and then some. Still… What goes around, and all… A mischievous smile crossed his face. "Besides, it's not like I believed pepper would actually work! Ya know…like when Sammy here was in first grade and saw me with some 7-Up I'd snuck in one day at lunch…"

"Dean…"

"And he asked if I could get him some too, so I did…"

"Dean…"

"So later, Sammy's teacher stops me in the halls asking what in the world would possess my little bro to shout the word 'Christo' and then throw clear soda pop on him…"

"Dean!"

"And little did the man know he'd said the magic word!"

"Sam thought his teacher was possessed?" Bobby asked amusedly.

"Yep. Thought it was the only explanation for why he'd take recess away from the whole class, when the real reason was 'cause half of them didn't do their homework! And…he thought that 7-Up was holy water…'cause it fizzed!"

"Aw, man…" Sam muttered, burying his face in his hands to hide the blush spreading across his cheeks as the other three men laughed.

By the time the hilarity had dissipated, all of the hunters had been under the humiliating spotlight except for Dusty, who wisely kept his own embarrassing tales to himself. The oldest hunter now found himself under a spotlight of a more general nature instead.

"So ya got into the huntin' life when you were a twenty-somethin', ya say?" Bobby queried.

"Yep. Was always more of a down-in-the-sticks country boy than a city guy, if ya couldn't already tell that by my lazy speech," Dusty quipped with a smile. "But anyway, moved into a cabin down in Arkansas, s'where I still live now, actually. S'right by what I first thought was a nice, peaceful patch'a woods…'til I learned they were home to this damn thing called a Wendigo…ever heard of 'em?" He continued when all three of the other hunters nodded emphatically...almost too emphatically. "Yeah…well, I learned all 'bout the things an' a whole lotta other stuff from two guys that came 'round to hunt the thing. Didn't believe 'em at first when they told me what it was an' then I saw the thing with my own two eyes…'fore I knew it, I was goin' on the hunt with 'em an' helped 'em kill it. At first I done it all just to defend my home…but later on…I kept doin' it 'cause it just felt right somehow, ya know? I dunno, like a…uh…"

"Calling?" Bobby finished accurately.

"Yeah…exactly like that."

"Know where you're comin' from," Bobby smiled. "S'almost like once ya go on your first hunt, it's in your blood. Though in my older age I've gotten to be more of a research man, myself…not that I don't take the occasional job excursion or two, but still…"

Dusty readily agreed. "Took the words right outta my mouth, Bobby."

"That so?"

"Yep…love to hit them books."

"Well, then, have I got somethin' to show you!" Bobby exclaimed, standing up from his chair and motioning for the eldest hunter to follow him into the house before turning to give Sam and Dean a parting message. "Boys, I'm gonna show Dusty here the library, so I'm appointin' you two to the cleanup."

"Aw, man!" Dean exclaimed. "What's wrong with a few beer bottles and plates of food left out in…" He trailed off at the glare Bobby shot his way. "Right…fine. Winchester Maid Service reporting for duty!" he finished with a mock salute.

"Keep snarkin' off like that, boy, and I'll have you an apron to wear before too long!"

Sam snickered as Dean shuddered at the thought just before the slamming of the door silenced his would-be retort. "Jeez…talk about bein' left out in the cold…feelin' a little excluded here, how 'bout you?" the older sibling smirked.

"Yeah, right…like you want any part of a library session." Sam responded with a knowing smile, followed by a contented sigh. "Huh. Glad we introduced those two, ya know? It's like they're old friends."

"Emphasis on 'old'," Dean said with a wink, eliciting a smack on the arm from Sam.

"Watch it…we'll just have to see if you're still hunting like those two when you're past fifty, won't we?" Sam grinned.

"Ha ha," was all Dean could muster for a comeback. Sometimes, he wasn't even sure if he'd live to see fifty. He could only take it one day at a time – protecting his baby brother, hunting evil, doing what he does best – and hope.

A pensive silence stretched between the brothers before the youngest one finally broke it. "Dean?"

"Yeah, Sammy?"

"I've been meaning to ask you something…ever since I woke up in the hospital, but I keep forgetting…when I'm not putting it off, I guess. It's something that the familiars told me…kinda been botherin' me a bit, you could say."

Dean sighed as he scooped an empty beer bottle off the ground. They had already had their share of serious conversation earlier in the day when he, his brother, and Dusty had told Bobby the full story of what had happened when the Winchesters met Odessa and crew. Dean really didn't want to get back on that track. But…if it's bothering him…damn it. "Fire away, little bro."

Sam unsurely began. "Well…Odessa and Dracon kept mentioning that there was this hunt you went on recently where you killed another humanoid familiar…Dracon's mate according to him and Odessa. So…why don't I remember that hunt?"

Dean swallowed thickly, daring to meet Sam's gaze. No accusation was held within the hazel orbs, just confusion and concern. It made the subterfuge even harder. "Well, I think you might've been away at college when it happened," the older man evaded. He still wasn't ready to confess.

"Nice try, Dean," Sam said, no heat in his voice but suspicion suddenly leaping into his eyes. "But the familiars said it happened months ago…not years."

Shit… The jig was up, Dean realized, and took a deep breath, hoping Sam would understand…or at least forgive him. "Sammy…you know how much of a wreck I was after Dad…died." Sam nodded for him to go on, a flash of sympathy crossing his face at Dean's words. "Well, one night when we were staying here at Bobby's, I…I just needed somethin' to take my mind off it all, and…I went out on a hunt…at night…alone."

"Dean!" Sam noticed that his older brother didn't flinch at the outburst. He was obviously expecting it…as he well should! "You coulda gotten yourself killed, I mean, no plan…no backup?!"

"I know, I know, Sammy, and look, I'm sorry. Not sorry that I did it since I killed that other familiar, sheer luck or not…just…sorry that I shut you out of it all," Dean admitted softly, guiltily. "And that I waited so long to tell you. But…forgive and forget?"

Sam thought for a moment – what seemed like an eternity to Dean – and acquiesced. "I guess. Just…don't do it again, alright? Ever."

Dean grinned playfully. "Aw, Sammy. Come on, what kind of guy takes orders from their little brother?"

"The smart kind," Sam smirked.

Minutes later, the brothers finished the task Bobby had appointed to them and went to join him and Dusty in the library. Once again, they felt like they were walking in on two longtime friends and smiled at the two older men as they joined in the conversation. They spent another half-hour down in the library – with even Dean getting in on some book learning – before turning in for the night.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

---Epilogue---

Before everyone knew it – or was ready to accept it – three days had passed, and it was time for Dusty to head back home to Arkansas. He had already said his goodbyes to Bobby, who readily agreed to keep him updated on happenings in the hunting world, and Dusty hoped this would help him to succeed in being a bigger part of it in the years ahead than what he had been in the recent past. Now came the part that the old hunter had been dreading. It was time to say goodbye to Sam and Dean Winchester…to say goodbye to the two incredible young men who had earned a permanent place in his heart. Slamming the tailgate of his truck shut, his things packed securely in the bed, he turned to the brothers.

Both looked to him at the same time, and Dusty's stoic exterior was efficiently crumbled upon seeing what looked like moisture in Sam's eyes. He scuffed his boot on the ground, looking down at it before finally looking back up at his young friends again. "Aw…hell, boys…I'm no good at this…" came the reluctant beginning. "Cliché as it sounds an' all…I really don't know what to say."

"Say you'll keep in touch with us?" Sam spoke up immediately with a heartfelt gaze.

"'Course I will, kid. Ya'll got my number an' I've got yours. Call anytime ya want…just preferably not past midnight, if ya don't mind. Old man, here, ya know," Dusty winked.

"Same goes here," Dean replied. "Except for the 'old man, here' part."

All three shared a brief laugh over Dean's quip before Sam returned the conversation into sincere territory. "Listen, Dusty…I know we've said this before, but…thank you so much, for all you've done for us. I mean, you didn't have to do anything, but…you did, and we just…we're just really lucky to have ran into someone like you—"

"Literally, in my case," Dean interrupted with a smirk, eliciting another laugh from the older man before Sam continued.

"Anyway, just…thanks. For everything."

"Shucks, Sam…you're very welcome for it all, you know that…but I'm the one that should be thankin' you n' your brother."

"For what?"

"For everything, kid. Ya'll took a weary, washed-up old man an' turned 'im back into a hunter, gave me a purpose…helped me rediscover my callin'. I feel like I'm really livin' again, thanks to you two…sixty-five years old or not," he finished with a warm smile.

"Sixty-five?" Dean questioned with a raised eyebrow.

"Yeah…why?"

"Nothin'," Dean said with a shrug of his shoulders. "Just thought you were in your early sixties, actually."

"Why, Dean, son," Dusty exclaimed with a wide grin, "that's the nicest thing anyone's ever said to me."

Another round of laughs could be heard echoing through the salvage yard before the oldest of the three men realized if he put off leaving any longer, he might never be able to go. Secure in the knowledge that their goodbyes wouldn't be forever, he took a deep breath to finally bid them. "Well…I best be gettin' outta here an' back on the road." He met the youngest Winchester's eye first. "Sam…I'd ask ya to do this old man a favor an' stay far away from any humanoid familiars, but…guess we don't have to worry 'bout that no more, huh?" he chuckled. "So…just 'stay outta car trunks' is gonna have to do it instead."

"Yeah…" Sam choked out. "I will…hopefully."

"Do your best, kid," Dusty winked, extending his hand for Sam to shake. Upon Sam's doing so, he rethought. Aw, what the hell… Pulling the youngest hunter into a tight hug, which he gladly returned, Dusty gave Sam two hearty pats on the back before letting him go. "Be good, kid," he said softly, voice breaking no matter how steady he had tried to hold it.

He then turned to Dean. Unlike Sam's, there were no tears in the older Winchester's eyes, but the emotion was there just the same. He could see it clearly. "And you…damn, Dean, I'd tell ya to be good like I did your little bro, but ya know what? I jus' don't think you can manage," he said teasingly.

"Aw, what're you talkin' about…I'm somethin' else," Dean smirked.

"No argument there, son!" Dusty laughed, and then quieted the amusement in his voice. "No argument there…" He reluctantly curled his fingers around his truck's door handle. "Like I said, Dean, you've got my number…anytime, alright?" Dean nodded in response. "Good. You take care of that brother of yours, now, ya hear?"

"Loud and clear, Dusty," Dean responded with a bright smile.

"Good man." The squeak of the old hunter's truck door opening reverberated off the scrap metal surrounding the trio of men, as Dusty then stuck his hand out and pulled Dean into an unexpected hug as well when he grabbed it. "Remember, son, you find your strength—"

"And hang onto it…hang onto Sammy." Always.

"You got it." With that, Dusty let go of Dean and climbed into the driver's seat of his truck, which also squeaked loudly. "Old bucket'a rust," he muttered with a smirk at the boys as he started the engine. "Well…I s'pose I'm off." He caught the boys gazes one final time. "Talk to you two soon…right?"

"Count on it," they said in unison.

Dusty laughed and shook his head fondly as he put his foot to the gas and started pulling out of the salvage yard. "Brothers…" he said to himself. "Gotta love 'em." He finally let the moisture come to his eyes as he watched the Winchester boys growing smaller and smaller in his rearview mirror, waving one last goodbye…for now, anyways. Yep… Gotta love 'em.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Almost two weeks later found Sam and Dean pulling out of Bobby Singer's salvage yard as well. They had another case to get to…involving a haunted prison, no less. Sam was still extremely wary of the job, and in practical disbelief of Dean's frighteningly risky idea of purposely getting arrested to get into the job site. But Dean had insisted that they needed to help the prison's owner, who it turned out was an old friend of John's, and Sam had finally given in. Besides…the job just happened to be in the state of Arkansas. The boys, of course, had a good friend there.

"So, think the old man's expecting us to drop by so soon?" Dean wondered aloud.

"Probably not…" Sam responded. "But I can't help but think he'll be happy to see us anyway," he finished with a knowing smile.

"Yeah…same here. So, man, this job…"

"Don't remind me."

"Aw, come on, Sammy, it'll be fine. S'just gonna be a little weirder for me than you, of course."

"Yeah? Why's that?" Sam asked, eyebrow raised.

"Well, just me…purposely walking into a prison…again. Man. I'm tellin' ya, freakin' Dijon vu."

"Dean?"

"Yeah, Sammy?"

"For the last time, man…it's déjà vu."

-o-o-o-o-o- THE END -o-o-o-o-o-

A/N: Wow. So that's all she wrote folks – literally – and I really don't know how to feel right now. Naturally, a part of me is sad; I've enjoyed writing this story so much and will miss it…I definitely teared up a couple of times writing this chapter. Yet, of course, the other part of me is somewhat relieved and very satisfied/happy. I remember when this 28- chapter tale was nothing but a title and a concept, and to see what it turned into and how well the result was received has been immensely fulfilling.

But that last part is all thanks to YOU, my readers. I seriously did NOT imagine when I posted the first chapter that this story would be almost 400 reviews strong by the time I posted the last one, and I just want to sincerely thank you all so much for your support. You guys made it all worthwhile! And a very special thanks to psiChic for being such an awesome beta…with my every-other-day posting, it was certainly a full-time job, but she came through every time and helped make this story into what it is. Thank you so much, LLS…couldn't have done it without ya! LOL, kinda the most appropriate holiday to end a story on with all the above sentiments in mind, huh? Heehee.

Well, LOL, didn't mean to make that sound like an Oscar speech…guess it's just a 'first-fanfic-has-done-well' thing, heehee! And with that fact, it definitely won't be my last fanfic…I'll probably be brainstorming away as you read this, LOL. But it's been a blast with this story, folks, and until my next one, take care everyone! Hugs, love, and thanks again. :-D

-PsychicWonderKitty