Hey there, strange strangers…

Been a while, hasn't it?

Ahem…

Without further ado…

The continuation. Which is singular. And highly inspired by mywarisalreadywon's Many Meanings…

(*_*)

"Doctor Winchester-Garcia?"

"Hmm?"

"Do you think, maybe, that you'd like to go out with me, to dinner? This Sunday?"

Dean looked up from the charts in his hands, blinking slowly as he processed the words. The woman in front of him wrung her hands nervously, shifting around on her feet awkwardly. She was an attractive woman, with a wild mane of curly blonde hair, warm brown eyes, and the height of a particularly tall leprechaun.

"What?" he asked, stupidly.

"Um, this Sunday…do you…want to get something to eat?"

Shifting slightly, Dean cleared his throat.

"I, um, need to check my schedule first."

The woman's face flushed abruptly and she stiffened.

"I see."

(*_*)

Dean was in a state of slight shock as he made his way out of the hospital at the end of his shift. Brandi Williams was a friend, a nurse in the pediatric unit of his hospital, and someone whose company he truly enjoyed. He had been caught off guard by her invitation, and had scrambled for something to say. Anything.

But, as seemed par for the course for him, he couldn't think of anything. His life, since his adoption and integration into normal society, had been a series of awkward attempts at emulating normal, healthy relationships. Penelope was an amazing mother figure, though more of a sister to him, and had helped him in so many ways, but relationships never seemed to work out for him.

Sammy never had these problems. He had been able to put most, if not all, of his trauma behind him, beyond resentment towards his father's fall from hero (in his eyes) to villain. He was in a fully committed relationship with Jessica Moore, and soon to be graduating at the top of his class at Stanford Law School.

Dean, however, had a series of failed attempts at forming bonds with people outside his family. The longest relationship he'd had was a month, before she couldn't take his closed off attitude.

Getting into his car, Dean let out a sigh, melting bonelessly into the leather seats of a '67 impala. He rolled his windows down, letting in the cool spring air, before he took out his cell phone to call Penny. He needed to talk to her.

"Briiing-briiing-briiing-HI! You've reached Penelope Garcia, technological genius extraordinaire, I can't get to the phone at the moment, so leave your words at the beep!"

Dean didn't bother leaving a message. He turned the key in the ignition, the familiar purr soothing the deep-seated ache in his chest, if only a little. Metallica was blaring from the speakers in the car, cementing him to the moment. It was strange.

Dean felt almost as though he were about to float off, untethered and unrestrained. It was a dangerous feeling. The music was a thread, barely tangible in its existence, keeping him from flying away.

The drive to his apartment was a mere five minutes, but it seemed to last forever. It felt as though his life was in slow motion, and he could barely stand it.

Entering his house, Dean locked the door mechanically, not bothering to turn on any lights. His answering machine blinked, indicating a message. He ignored it.

(*_*)

The clock blinked in a taunting manner.

3:03 am

Dean stared at it, wishing he would fall asleep. Five minutes later, he gave up and got up and wandered into his living room, flicking on a light. Pictures of Penny, Sam, himself, and the rest of the BAU were illuminated.

Connections.

He had them, he could practically feel the ties, but there was some sort of disjunction between the world and himself. He tried so hard to be a part of it, but he just couldn't find a way to truly enter in.

The answering machine kept blinking.

Pressing play, Dean got a glass of water, mindlessly puttering about as the machine started.

"You have, one, new message: Doctor Winchester-Garcia, this is Doctor Rowe from the Sheldon Institute. I apologize for being the bearer of bad news, but your father, John Winchester had a heart attack earlier today and passed away. If you would please call us to inform us of funeral arrangements, we would be highly appreciative. Once again, I'm sorry for your loss."

At some point after the second sentence, Dean had dropped his glass, which shattered on contact. Whether it was just the news, or the slightly bored, matter-of-fact way the doctor had stated it, Dean was shaking. He slid slowly to his floor, mind numb with shock.

A feral smile split his face in a jagged simile of happiness.

(*_*)

"Sam Winchester-Garcia, speaking."

"Shit, Sam, is that you or a dinosaur talking?"

"Dean? What the hell man? It's five in the morning!"

"I've got news for you! The best news in the world! Ahahahahaha!" Dean giggled crazily.

"Dean, what's wrong?"

"Wrong, nothing is wrong! In fact, everything is right!"

"Tell me what's happening!"

"Dad's dead! He's gone, gone, gone!"

"…. W-what?"

"He's gone!"

Sam Winchester-Garcia stared stupidly at the phone in his hand. Dead? As in gone forever, dead?

This bucolic happiness his brother was emitting was somewhat terrifying. Sam couldn't help but feel a pang, for both his father and his brother. His father for ruining so many people's lives, and his brother for showing true happiness for the first time in years at the expense of the life of another.

Sam knew, logically, that his father had been insane, but he resented the man for destroying Dean. He also knew that he had been told, at best, only half of the actions his father had taken. Dean hadn't needed to be told anything, having experienced it all in horrific, up-close detail.

So, ignoring the faint whisper of his childhood that cried for his father, Sam smiled.

"He's really, really gone."

Dean's laughter broke his heart, just a little bit.

(*_*)

"Dean-baby, what's happening?"

"Penny, he's gone!"

"Who's gone?"

"My bastard of a father!"

"Langu—wait, what?"

"He's dead, dead, dead!"

Penelope started crying (happily) for Dean, hoping that this would be the final step that Dean needed to move on. The shadow he'd been living under was finally gone, and he never needed to worry about that evil, evil man getting out and getting to him again.

(*_*)

Walking into work the following day, Dean had a dazzling smile on his face. It caused his co-workers to stop and blink in muted shock. Dean was known for being a great doctor, and about as happy as a rock being crushed to gravel. He got results, but never gave smiles.

"Brandi! Brandi, my wonderful, lovely friend, is that dinner offer still on?"

"I- what?" The nurse in question stared bewildered at the exuberant doctor in front of her.

"Dinner, you and me?"

"What?" She stuttered.

"At La Strata?"

"Yes?"

"Great! Give me your number, I'll text you for details!"

Shocked, Brandi took his phone and entered her number.

"Talk to you later!"

"Yeah…yeah?"

It wasn't much, but it was a step that Dean had been waiting for, for years.

(*_*)

Yo, it's been a while, hasn't it?
Hope this was a bit more satisfactory than the previous ending.

I was checking out the Supernatural/Criminal Minds archive, and saw a story that inspired me to write an ending that I could actually be proud of. So, go check out Many Meanings, by mywarisalreadywon.

Hugs and fishes,

And all good wishes,

Quinn