Notes: Oh guys, I'm so, so happy about all the great feedback you've sent! There's some aspects to this story that made it a pretty tough cookie to crack, and if weren't for all your support, I might have just trailed off without ever finishing it. But now I'm so glad it's done, and I've got to thank you all for that!
And, of course, special thanks to my lovely reviewers Kyrianae Narii, Nyx Ro, Leandra(dott)Falconwing, KCS, brenner(dott)caitlin, ncsupnatfan, firstcatfish and zexydemyx66! You guys are awesome :)
It took a while (because it blew out of proportions...again), but here's the epilogue at last! Nobody's mentioned that particular bit yet, but I've been owing you a little angelic something throughout this story because, well, Sam's Sam.
But we'll rectify that now - and get a bit of an idea of the (short-term) happily-ever-after along with that.
Before we get to the actual epilogue, though, here's some final remarks that you might or might not want to skip (I just didn't want to put them at the very end because that would suggest for the actual chapter to be longer, and it is the last one after all):
Varia:
- There's a gorgeous artwork by petite-madame that works pretty well with this story: petite-madame (dott) tumblr (dott) com /post/56992024660/the-last-trial-yah-im-done-i-started-to-work
- Easter egg: In this story, Dean eats cheeseburgers on earth and chicken wings everywhere else, which is sometimes the first indicator to Sam's current location. (As Dean never leaves earth in this version, that coincides with him eating cheeseburgers whenever he's the real deal and chicken wings whenever he's an image or double of himself)
- The roads not taken: The first draft of this story, branching off after Sam's return from the pit, interpreted his connection to hell differently. His powers would grow proportionally to his rage, and while Sam wasn't even aware of that himself, Crowley confirmed that suspicion by getting him angry enough to kill Abaddon properly (similar to what Metatron did here, she's really just a poor scapegoat). Instead of simply telling them the truth, though, Crowley chose to speed things up tremendously and convinced one of Metatron's followers to kill Dean. If he wanted to retrieve his brother from heaven, Sam could no longer avoid a confrontation with Metatron, but his fury ensured he was strong enough to take him down at versions of the plot contain some twists I liked and some I disliked, but when I thought I was done and started uploading (the first draft of) this story, I came to realize that the second part described above still needed so much editing and fixing it was easier to just redo it from scratch - preferably without Dean dying ;A;
So to anyone who's been looking forward to an epic end battle between Sam and Metatron - I would have love to provide it, and it even existed at one point, but it was one of those building sites I just couldn't fix enough to be as epic as it would have deserved. Dx
- So this goes to anyone with their keyboards on: Angel!Sam is so full of fanfiction potential! There's so many possibilities that just want to be exploited (I would make a list here, but atm I can't get past the cruel beauty of what might have happened if Sam had encountered Lucifer rather than Abaddon during his trip to hell)
Trivia:
- The Abaddon battle basically summarized what little I still remember from P.E. at school... :P
- The Metatron battle is actually set at the Spree-Park in Berlin, an amazing and slightly eerie abandoned amusement park that you could occasionally tour until a while ago...and I just found out that parts of it burned down two days ago D:
Epilogue
FIVE MONTHS LATER
With Sam.
Somewhere in the faint distance, he heard a vague ringing noise.
"Dude, get the call already."
As the car hit a small bump in the road, the younger Winchester shifted in his seat before adjusting the jacket his head was resting against to shield his eyes from the low setting sun.
Grumbling when the noise didn't stop, he fiddled with the glove compartment and clumsily pressed the speaker button on the phone. "You talk to Cas," he told his brother in a tired, muffled mumble as he placed the phone on a cup holder and turned again tiredly, "Just wake me again when you want me to drive."
Dozing off again even with his brother and Castiel conversing loudly right next to him, he vaguely realized just accepting the call himself might have been the quicker way to get back to a restful sleep. Then again, he doubted he was up to any discussions of particulars importance anyway.
He should have known better, but with so many lives at stake, he had overdone it with the divine intervention once again. Ever since he had nearly died and recovered from a wound that had only turned lethal due to his overflowing powers in the first place, he had returned to the moderate energy levels he had initially held. Granted, he felt weak in comparison, but being in control meant so much more. As a result, though, even a single rescuing mission could leave him exhausted enough to sleep for days.
On that notion, if Dean let him, he probably would.
"We're here, Sam."
Blinking tiredly, Sam noticed that his body was no longer rocking along on the road.
So they had arrived at home at last?
Yawning, he stretched his arms and legs as far as the relative comfort of the Impala allowed it and looked outside the window.
But...with a rather rudimentary parking lot and a freaky tent right underneath a motorway bridge, there was no way they had arrived at the bunker.
After taking a moment to enjoy his brother's confusion, Dean finally enlightened him with a casual shrug, "Change of plans, Sammy. Cas said there was something we should look into here." He tapped on the wheel and opened the door at last. "So let's get going," he stated.
Frankly, Sam still felt rather drained, but at least he did manage getting out of the car to stretch properly all on his own. "So where is he?" he asked conversationally as soon as the movement and fresh air had woken him up at last. He kind of recognized the area from somewhere, but he could not put his finger on it. More importantly, though, he could not yet make out that familiar trench coat anywhere – or another angel's power signature, for that matter.
"He isn't coming," Dean offered with a shrug and a confused frown, "Said something about tailoring a cheese suit." He sent his brother a questioning look. "That's a code, right?" he asked, "Does cheese suit have some deeper meaning in Enochian?"
Arching an eyebrow, Sam leant against the car as he took a moment to search his brain for information. Sure enough, some basic understanding of Enochian had been seared into his brain upon his change, but, unless Castiel had intentionally made a pun, they wouldn't need a translation, for he knew the answer anyway. "I'm pretty sure he's talking about a real cheese suit," he offered with a dry chuckle and stifled a yawn, "He's still looking after the charity project, remember?"
Dean tilted his head. "Sure wonder where he's taking the time for that, with him rebuilding heaven and all," he added sceptically.
"I guess that's one of the reasons he's going to cut down the effort a bit," Sam confirmed, "Of course, he's still got Crowley helping him down here, but they still want reorganize those random meetings."
Dean arched an eyebrow.
"See, the volunteers have their normal lives, too," Sam explained patiently, "On a long-term basis, the weekly meetings just won't last. So instead, they turned it into an annual charity scavenger hunt spanning a week. This way, everyone gets to look forward to it and can plan around it, too."
Dean's frown stayed just as deep, but he seemed to follow the reasoning. "And that scavenger hunt includes a cheese suit," he reasoned slowly.
Sam met his sceptical look blankly. "Of course it does," he stated with a light chuckle and shrugged, "Time passes so quickly I kind of forgot it was set to happen now. So I guess that leaves us on our own." He heaved a sigh and finally bothered taking another look at his surroundings. "So where are we anyway?" he asked.
"Layfette, Indiana" Dean replied simply as he rounded the car to get their gear.
Meanwhile, Sam's eyes widened.
"That's where we found Cas back then," he stated and hesitated, "and also..."
"Where your arm got cut by an angel blade, yeah," Dean confirmed off-handedly, "In other words, Cas told us to check up on the gate."
Frowning, Sam took another look around and finally understood just why he had not recognized their location at once. Shortly after Sam's escape from hell and even before they had defeated Metatron at long last, they had returned to this place to make sure at least one gate was as sealed shut. But...the last time they had dropped by, they had not been standing on a parking lot, but on a small clearing surrounded by trees, junk and abandoned cars. Confused by the change, Sam took another look at his brother. "Did Cas mention anything else?" he asked.
Dean shrugged in response. "Just that the gate attracted quite an audience in the meantime," he stated with a frown and shut the trunk.
Remembering their experience from four months ago, Sam could not help arching an eyebrow. "Do I even want to know?" he asked sceptically, and it was only when his brother nodded towards the weird tent the parking lot seemed to belong to that he got an idea just what had become of the remains of the gate to hell in the meantime.
"Seriously?" Sam asked in disbelief.
They were standing in front of a mystery spot.
And a newly opened one, at that.
Sighing deeply, Sam ran a hand through his hair.
Hadn't their first check-up on the former gate already been weird enough?
FIVE MONTHS EARLIER
With Sam, Dean and Cas.
"So, what can you tell us about the object?" Dean demanded, flashing the officer his FBI badge before turning his gaze to what looked like a giant, blurry shard of a mirror hovering in mid-air.
Eyeing the three suit-clad hunters with a light frown, the police officer humoured them at last. "It was discovered five weeks ago, after a series of unexplained deaths in neighbouring cities," he explained, "you see, normally nobody ever comes here, but when they combed the area in search for further bodies, an officer discovered what he described as an Ode to Satan." He raised his eyebrows meaningfully, but the alleged FBI agents did not quite follow.
"No offence, Sheriff –," Dean began and stole a glance at the officer's name tag, "– Mills, but I don't see anything satanic about it." He frowned at the mirror, "As far as I'm concerned, it looks just like your average ugly yard sale leftover."
"About that..." Mills drawled uneasily and began scratching the back of his neck, "looks like they cleaned up even though we asked them not to."
Eyes narrowing, Sam stepped forward. "You altered the crime scene of an ongoing investigation?" he asked incredulously.
Mills, however, only sighed unhappily. "See, guys, it's not an actual crime scene," he explained and met Sam's eyes, "We wouldn't have gotten this location if it was, would we?"
Sam, Dean and Cas furrowed their brows in unison.
"You guys did read the website, didn't you?" Mills went on, eyeing them carefully, "I mean, Jim mentioned he got some newbies to fill in for the missing non-player characters, but you do understand we need to recreate the scene instead of rehearsing right now, don't you?"
"What?" Dean asked, blinking.
Sighing once again, Mills looked at his watch and produced a bottle of red spray paint as well as a picture from his bag. "You mind drawing the Devil's Trap just like it was?" he asked, handing Dean the picture and Sam the paint, "The convention starts in two hours and there's still far too much to do."
Naturally, Sam and Dean spent a couple of seconds simply blinking. Cas, on the other hand, glanced over their shoulders curiously. "Securing the portal to hell before it can open again is an advisable move to make," he agreed solemnly.
Arching an eyebrow, Mills suddenly began grinning. "I see you're all already in character, that's good," he commented cheerfully and grabbed Castiel's hand, "So you must be our heroes' helpful assistant Angel." Smiling, he led him to what looked like a nearby camp, "Your part isn't all that difficult – it's mainly some clues and first aid in case anybody stumbles over a root or something."
"I am sufficiently acquainted to the human physique for that task, I believe," Castiel replied with a nod as he followed what could only be – did they dare phrasing it? – a LARPer.
Staring after their friend in the same dumbfounded state they had already spent an entire minute in, Sam and Dean finally met each other's gazes.
"They've got to be fucking kidding me," Dean summarized blankly, "it's been weeks and these geeks turn it into a friggin Supernatural Convention?"
Shrugging, Sam let his gaze travel back to the former portal to hell. "At least, we've got an excuse to investigate it uninterrupted," he explained and stepped closer, "By the way, I agree with Cas – I don't think anything's going to happen, but we should get this secured somehow, even if it's only to scare people off." Without any further ado, he began spraying the trap around the portal.
Tilting his head in agreement, Dean glanced at the picture in his hand. "There's also the question who drew it in the first place," he drawled, "Must've been a hunter to know the actual danger behind this place." His frown deepened. "Maybe this Jim person?"
Huffing, Sam took a break from spraying to meet his brother's gaze. "You do realize there's only one Jim who might have introduced us to this lot, do you?" he offered and set back to work.
Dean's frown increased before it turned into an ugly scowl when he realized just who had reminded them to check up on the gate in the first place. "Jim Bucklesby," he ground out and kicked the ground, "Crowley, that son of a bitch."
NOW
With Sam.
"Seems solid to me," Dean drawled as he scrutinized the grotesque object that looked like some shiny, deformed scrap metal hovering in mid-air. It was lit mysteriously by the fancy interior set up around it and thus didn't quite reflect its surroundings as brightly, but beyond that it still mostly looked the same.
Frowning, he knocked against the rough, sparkly surface.
It made a funny noise, but it didn't even budge.
"Nothing weird here. It's still just like the one in Detroit, only smaller," he summarized at last, and he even seemed a bit disappointed.
Sam frowned at that expression. Granted, they had not had that much action since the whole Metatron business had finally been resolved, but in his humble opinion, they should enjoy this peace while it lasted.
And, well, ascertaining that this gate, too, still no longer posed a threat, made the whole trip worthwhile at least. More intriguingly, though...
"Hey," he began as he, too, stepped up to take a closer look. Instead of the gate itself, though, it was the ground underneath it that caught his attention. It came as no surprise that the spray paint had been removed once more, but... "We didn't set that devil's trap, so who did?"
Frowning, Dean followed his brother's gaze - as it was mostly covered by grass and dirt at this point, it was not visible at once, but sure enough he, too, finally recognized a devil's trap made of iron coat hangers underneath the former gate. "That wasn't there the first time around, was it?" he asked slowly.
Crouching down, Sam examined the metal more closely. "Actually, it might even have. It looks like it's buried intentionally so it wouldn't be visible to the naked eye and the grass was rather high on that day," he observed slowly.
"So Crowley set a double-layer Devil's trap when he found the gate?" Dean deduced.
But Sam's frown only deepened. "We never found out whether Crowley really was the one to secure it, you know," he pointed out, "After all, he is just human now and lost most of his sources, and even we didn't notice the gate until much later." It was a question worth mulling over, but before he got to any conclusions, he discovered something odd.
Nearly invisible just like the rest of the construct, there was a sticker attached to one of the hangers, and much to his surprise it read one familiar line.
"You've been Garthed :D," he quoted aloud and got up with a sigh, "So that's what he's been up to."
Chuckling hesitantly, Dean shrugged in response. "Looks like we owe him a favour," he commented, "Maybe we should call him some time."
Sam arched an eyebrow. "You want to invite him to the next cheeseburger party?" he asked in surprise.
Dean shrugged in response. "Well, maybe," he stated nonchalantly, "We haven't had one in a while, and I got a new recipe." After pondering the notion for another moment, and quite obviously he was getting hungry from doing so, Dean took another glance at the former gate to hell. "We done here?" he asked.
Shrugging, Sam agreed. "I guess so," he said and turned to the exit when he noticed something...unexpected. "Hey," he added as he halted in his step to meet his brother's eyes again, "You mind inviting another old friend to the cheeseburger party?"
"Who are you thinking of?" Dean asked with a frown and Sam nodded towards the entrance just as a familiar girl entered the room.
Catching sight of them, her eyes widened, "You guys?"
"Charlie?" Dean exlaimed in disbelief.
It took both of them a moment to recover from the surprise.
"Guess I shouldn't be surprised, eh?" Charlie chuckled and grinned at last. Walking up to them, she skipped her customary Vulcan salute to hug them both right away. "I haven't seen you guys in ages," she commented, genuinely happy to meet them after all that time. But then, glancing at the greyish thing in the background, she quickly remembered the reason that must have lured all of them to that weird location in the first place. "Wait, if you two are here," she drawled incredulously, "this is really is a case?"
Sam furrowed his brows. "Charlie, what are you doing here?" he asked.
"Some freelance hunting of course," she proudly replied, but shrunk back under the stern gazes she was suddenly receiving, "Look, you taught me the basics and I'm really being careful, okay?"
But Dean's expression stayed stern. "Didn't we tell you to just call us if anything came up?" he chided, causing her to grin apologetically.
"Look, we're all here right now, right?" she suggested as a peace offer and pulled a folder from her purse to wave it around meaningfully, "So let's join forces and tackle this beast together!"
Sam and Dean shared a look.
"But maybe somewhere more private?" Charlie added as an afterthought and took another scathing look at the former gate, "And somewhere safer, too."
Sighing softly, Sam wondered whether he should tell her right away just what this 'case' was about. Then again, she was right on the privacy, and he really wouldn't mind some simple chatting, either. Thus, he opted for easiest solution, "There's a shady pub down the street."
"I didn't expect that when you said shady, you actually meant shady," Charlie commented uneasily as she took a seat in the most remote corner of the almost empty tavern.
"I meant to say seedy," Sam countered good-naturedly as he placed their beers on the table and grabbed a chair.
"But it's convenient at least," Charlie dismissed the matter with a shrug and spread her notes on the table, "So let's get to business, shall we?"
"Charlie, I'm not sure how to say this," Sam began with a frown and trailed off.
Thus, Dean finished in his stead, "There's nothing we can do about it, but it's not dangerous, either."
Charlie's eyes widened. "Wait, what?" she asked and pulled what looked liked a witness account from the middle of her stack, "But people are still getting a streak of bad luck after touching it!"
Hearing those words, Dean nearly choked on his beer.
Frowning, Charlie glanced from one brother to the other. "You knew this, didn't you?" she asked slowly, "I mean, the newspapers are full with this stuff."
Clearing his throat with as much dignity as humanly possibly, Dean forced a smile on his features. "We kinda dropped by on a hunch," he admitted weakly, coughed and sent a helpless look towards his brother.
Sighing, Sam sniffed at his brother's beer and made a face. "How did you not smell that?" he asked incredulously.
"I was thirsty," Dean grumbled and coughed again. "A little detox here, man?" he asked hopefully.
Sighing once again, Sam turned to examine his own beer and shoved it over at last. "Just take mine," he stated simply, "You got a lead stomach anyway, so wash away the taste and it'll be alright."
Reaching for the beer like a starving man, Dean took a few gulps. And a few more.
Sam, meanwhile, turned back to Charlie. "You don't happen to know how long these streaks usually last?" he asked.
"Not long," she assured him and handed over a newspaper from her collection, "Just an hour or two." She cautiously glanced at Dean, who was still struggling with nausea. "You think he'll last that long?"
"Of course he will," Sam assured her matter-of-factly, as he, too, resumed watching his brother in a mixture of worry and schadenfreude. "He's the Incredible Hulk, after all," he added and tilted his head with an amused expression, "Look, he's even turning a bit green."
Dean, who had been busy with his own misery until that moment, was suddenly glaring daggers at him. "Way to treat a caring brother," he huffed and crossed his arms in front of him, "Well, at least I'm not a freaking...unicorn."
Now it was Sam's turn to look scandalized. "A unicorn?" he repeated in disbelief.
"Well, Sparkles," Dean explained as he took another hasty gulp from the good beer, "you got magic and wings and lightshows and shit. That makes a unicorn."
Sam was glaring at his brother in disbelief, and Charlie chose that moment to interfere with the banter. "Actually, that makes a winged unicorn with no horn," she piped up, "Or rather, a fai-" She stopped herself just in time - or more acurately, Sam's terrified expression did.
"Same thing," the older brother insisted, dismissing the unfinished word for he had apparently - thankfully - not thought far enough to complete it.
And, Sam was certainly not a fairy by any definition.
"You guys do realize you owe me a big explanation at this point, right?" Charlie spoke up after a short moment of silence and assessed them with a deep frown. "Lead stomach and magic, you got some super powers or something?" she asked and grimaced with a pointed look at Sam, "or is it the demon blood again?"
Inhaling deeply, Sam mentally braced himself. He hadn't had to explain his condition in a couple of months and had been grateful for it, but this was Charlie - they owed her that much. "You remember we were busy with the demon trials the last time we met, right?" he began slowly.
Watching him carefully, Charlie nodded in response. "I've been meaning to ask you guys about that," she replied awkwardly and took a closer look at the younger brother, "I mean, you definitely look healthier now, Sam, so..." Her eyes widened when she caught on at last.
"Oh my God," she gasped and thumped the table with her palms just to lean closer, as if she could not actually believe what she was hearing. "You did it!" she exclaimed in a mixture of awe and disbelief as she looked from one brother to the other and back, "You shut the gates to hell."
"Yeah," Sam confirmed with a weak smile and tilted his head, "And we got a bit of an upgrade in the process."
Charlie's excitement was far from ebbing down, but she did arch an eyebrow in question. "What kind of upgrade?" she demanded curiously.
Grimacing lightly, Sam realized once again that he still had not figured out a modest way to describe just what he had become. "Well," he began slowly and hoped his mind would come up with something suitable on the fly, "I kind of ended up..." He hesitated, because just as expected only flashy words like angel, wings and celestial being crossed his mind in that moment.
For better or for worse, though, he had Dean at his side.
"Feathered," the older Winchester finished the statement with a nod and another mouthful of beer.
Within a split second, two sets of eyes landed of him, one glaring daggers, the other blinking in confusion.
"Feathered?" Charlied repeated incredulously, and it was then that her eyes widened once again, "Oh god, the wings, you're..." Trailing off, she stared at Sam as if anything about his appearance would actually give away what she had just found out.
But Sam only shrugged weakly in response.
"This is your cue, man," Dean whispered next to him, rested his elbow on the table and leant closer. "No better moment to do the Cas than this one," he added, tilted his head expectantly - and suddenly cursed audibly when his neck convulsed from that motion.
Both Sam and Charlie sighed in unison, but it was Sam who ultimately reached out and rested his hand on his brother's neck.
While he adamantly refused to show off by 'doing the Cas', as Dean called it when his eyes lit up or, better yet, his wings became visible, releasing his brother's neck cramp did serve a certain purpose and, better yet, it barely took any effort at all. On that notion, even the bad luck curse proved much easier to crack than he had expected.
Sam removed his hand after only a second, but his frown had already deepened in concern.
Dean, meanwhile, slumped back against his chair and massaged his neck with a grunted word of thanks.
Charlie, on the other hand, had watched the whole display with widening eyes, and she finally managed stammering a weak response.
"But I'd like to see you doing the Cas too."
Sam looked back at her like a deer caught in the headlights and eventually replied with nothing but a sigh. "Guys," he complained and looked exactly as uncomfortable as he sounded, "Will you stop it already?"
"I don't even know why you're so damn hesitant about this," Dean countered and crossed his arms in front of him as he met Charlie's eyes again. "Do you believe even I haven't seen his wings yet?"
As she was still busy coping with the first few revelations of the day, it took her a few moments to react. "Wait..." she began, yet instead of supporting Dean's complaint, as he was obviously aiming for, she averted her attention from his brother and went on scrutinizing him very closely. "You said you both got an update," she observed and tilted her head when nothing seemed different, "So I get the unicorn now – what's the Incredible Hulk about?"
Both brothers moved to object to the nicknames at once, but instead of phrasing anything, they both settled for wordlessly glaring at each other instead.
Charlie could not help smiling at their unspoken communication.
"Look, it's probably better if we just tell you the story from the beginning," Dean sighed as soon as their glaring battle ended in a tie and sunk back into his chair. "First things first, though," he added with a warning expression on his face, "If anyone's the Hulk here, it's my giant of a baby brother."
"Hey!"
With Charlie.
"Woah," Charlie summarized their most recent adventures and leant back against the chair to let it all sink in. She had not expected anything less than another fantastic tale, but then again, everything the brothers had gone through had been hard to stomach – especially when she had found out none of it had even been fiction in the first place.
"Yeah," Dean agreed as he emptied his third drinkable beer for the night.
"So you got rid of hell and everything attached," she drawled and tilted her head as she was still busy sorting her thoughts, "and you even managed solving the angel dispute."
"At least the sky isn't falling in on us at the moment," Sam commented and furrowed his brows, "literally and figuratively."
"So why the gloomy faces?" Charlie asked and met his frown with a wide grin, "I mean, this is amazing, isn't it?" She threw her arms in the air for stress. "You did it, guys!" she repeated enthusiastically, "You brought peace to the world and get to enjoy it, too!"
The brothers looked at her blankly for a moment, and she blinked back. "I mean, you're still at the job, obviously, but please tell me you did take a break after the victory."
"Well, we went to Disney World," Dean admitted slowly.
"And to Legoland," Sam added.
"Visited the Playboy Mansion," Dean went on wistfully, causing Charlie to arch an eyebrow.
"I lost a bet," Sam offered as an explanation.
"Good times," Dean grinned to himself, and the others could not help joining him.
"Seriously, though," Charlie began after a companionable silence, "you're not planning any long-time vacations? I mean, you earned that fair and square."
Dean arched an eyebrow. "I wouldn't mind some weeks worth of exercise with those bunnies," he mused forlornly.
"Me neither, bro," Charlie joined in with a sigh and finished her own drink at last, "but I'm talking about the things you've always wanted to do but never got around to because there was always another battle to fight." She shrugged, but kept a watchful eye on them. "Like starting a family, or going back to college," she suggested slowly, "That kind of thing."
For a moment, the brothers looked at her as if they had not even considered the possibility yet.
And maybe they really hadn't. She did not know them quite as well as she would like, but if the books and their shared experiences were any indication, they might not even realize they still had a choice when it came to hunting.
On the other hand, they might as well have started appreciating their job as one of the few constants in their lives.
"It's a bit of a scary thought," Sam admitted at last, "All of a sudden, there's so many new possibilities to choose from." He released a sigh, and suddenly it became obvious that Charlie's earlier observation couldn't have been further from the truth. At least he must have thoroughly considered their new options and long-term perspectives – he was Sam, after all – and for some reason, he had still chosen to disregard them all for the moment. "The world changed around us, and even we did," he elaborated wearily and ran a hand through his hair, "but when it comes down to it, we're still the same people."
Nodding, Charlie sent him an encouraging smile. So they had started acknowledging that the job was part of them after all – and maybe it was best that way, for they were damn good at it anyway. "So no college?" she summarized sheepishly.
"Kevin's got that covered," Sam replied and added with a light chuckle, "Besides, it would feel like cheating anyway."
Frowning, she needed a moment to understand what he was implying, and it wasn't the first time during their conversation she had simply forgotten that Sam was no longer even human. For all appearances, he had not changed at all. If anything, he looked calmer now – they both did. Intuitively, she assumed the reason for that to lie in their recent victories. But as to the changes in their very nature, she really couldn't tell. Well, as long as they didn't grow too reckless, their new skills certainly gave them a healthy advantage over most opponents, or anything, really. On that note...
"Now that you mention it," she drawled and sent Sam a playful frown, "Doesn't it feel like cheating with most things now?"
That actually got a chuckle out of Sam. "You got me there," he admitted sheepishly, "But it's quite convenient in some aspects."
At her frown, he simply nodded towards the pub's entrance. Following the gesture, she suddenly caught sight of at least twenty new customers occupying the tables - and much to her own horror, she had not even noticed them entering.
"Kinda crowded, huh?" Dean commented with a grin and flexed his knuckles as he, too, finally scanned the room openly – even though Charlie was certain he only did that for the show. Unlike her, both must have been aware of their new company for quite a while.
That did not exactly ease her nervosity, though. None of the pub's new guests seemed to watch them openly, but she could still feel several sets of eyes on her.
"Did you know witches live in societies, too?" Dean explained good-naturedly and got up at last, "Around these parts, they use bad luck curses as coming-of-age ceremonies."
"Good to know," Charlie replied weakly, but her attention was focused solely on one man who looked particularly out of place in a shady pub like this one. Clad in an expensive suit, he was sitting stiffly among his two peers, and Charlie couldn't help feeling reminded of one Lucius Malfoy. His long, hilariously silky hair might be the main reason for that, but his general demeanour underlined the similarity.
And as if sitting in a pub a bit too close to actual witches and wizards that even looked like the clichés she knew from the movies wasn't already bad enough, the Malfoy-lookalike averted his gaze from his busty lady-friend in just that moment – and stared straight into Charlie's eyes.
Gulping, she shrunk back a bit.
Dean, on the other hand, still seemed entirely unfazed by their new company and rose from his chair with a grim grin. "So who's in for some fun?" he challenged loudly as he took a confident step towards the center of the room, glancing at everyone assembled in turn.
The blond man, who supposedly was the leader of this so called society, merely huffed in annoyance. "Who are you to foolishly intrude in our affairs?" he demanded as he, too, rose at last. The calm self-confidence in the wizard's every movement turned even something as simple as getting up from a chair into a menacing display of power, and Charlie couldn't help shrinking back a bit further against her own seat. Raising an elegant eyebrow, the wizard scrutinized the three of them in turn. "Hunters?" he deduced from either their appearance or whatever he had overheard from their discussion in the first place – and it was only at that thought that Charlie even realized one detail that was both curious and overwhelming. At one point during their conversation, roughly after they had finished the unbelievable Metatron tale, both Winchesters had started paraphrasing any vital information instead of naming them directly, so...they had noticed they were being eavesdropped? They had known all this time?
Biting her lip as she watched the scene with a bad feeling in her stomach, Charlie really wished they would have told her. What if she had let something slip they didn't want these witches to know?
"Take a look around you, hunters," Malfoy spoke with a grand gesture towards his escorts and peers assembled behind him, "You are vastly outmatched both in might and numbers." He scoffed haugthily. "Luckily for you," he added with a deliberate nod towards the bartender, "you have been reported to hold potentially valuable information." He narrowed his eyes and lowered his voice. "On the state of hell."
A clear threat hung heavily in the air, and nobody moved for a few seconds.
And then Dean, completely unfazed, began laughing heartily. "You have the nerve to ask for information," he chuckled incredulously as he paced around as if he owned the place, "After an introduction like that?" He shook his head. "Whatever happened to manners?"
While he had kept up a diplomatically neutral facade in the beginning, the wizard no longer bothered with it after that reply. "How dare you talk to me in such a way," he hissed as his features distorted in fury and raised his hand. "Learn your place," he finished darkly and flicked his wrist.
But whatever magic he had intended to cast upon the hunter bounced right off him – instead of being flung through the air, or throttled, or worse, Dean merely tilted his head towards the indicated direction in a mock reaction. However, the grin had vanished from his features.
"How – " the wizard asked with wide eyes and even took half a step back in surprise.
But he didn't even get to finish his exclamation, as Dean quickly cut him off. "Survival 101, bitch," he grunted, crossed the remaining distance in few long strides and simply punched the wizard in face just because he could, "Don't underestimate your opponents."
Now, while Charlie had been told that the older hunter, too, had undergone some changes which affected his physical strength, she had not quite expected to witness something like this. Instead of the table he had been standing at, the blow had propelled the wizard against a wall at the far end of the room, knocking him out cold.
Both in shock and fear, the other witches in the pub jumped from their seats at last, ready to attack.
Still, Dean looked as laid-back as ever. If anything, the lazy grin that had been adorning his earlier reappeared at last. "Now, with that settled," he announced and looked from one witch to the other once again, "Anybody willing to talk like civilized people?"
Several moments passed in tensed silence as Dean stood at the receiving end of a dozen glares. Finally, it was a busty witch with curly black hair that graced him with an answer. "You will not threaten us," she warned darkly, and Dean cracked a grin.
Before Dean could phrase an even more disrespectful reply, however, Sam chose to intercept at last. "We're not here to hurt or threaten anyone," he assured them at a calm voice that still managed to echo through the entire room and sent a brief, reprimanding glance in his brother's direction. "Unless provoked, that is," he added with a soft sigh and stood up at last. "We merely want to remind you of the premises," he clarified as he walked to the center of the room and came to a halt next to his brother. "You keep a low profile and nobody gets hurt," he summarized and met the witch's eyes, "That's how it worked for centuries."
She narrowed her eyes, but stood her ground as she glared right back at him. "Our affairs are none of your business," she warned.
"People died from that curse at the Mystery Spot," Sam countered warningly.
But the witch did not seem to care. "You hunters, always so hilariously pretentious," she spat and finally broke eye contact just so she could stomp her agitation off, "You know nothing of what is going on here – but as soon as you see a snippet from a newspaper, you crawl out of your little dark corner and demand justice."
While Dean sighed, Sam arched an eyebrow. "Then tell us what is going on here," the younger hunter suggested simply, causing the witch to stop dead in her tracks just to glare at him again.
"That's none of our business," Dean interpreted her gaze before she could repeat herself – but considering her furious reaction, he seemed to have hit the mark exactly. "Looks like we're in a stalemate here," he summarized and sent a look at his brother, "Unless we can think of some really flashy arguments." Arching a meaningful eyebrow, he mouthed something else. That's your cue.
Charlie's eyes widened when she realized just what Dean was doing. There they were surrounded by potentially powerful wizards and witches ready to skin them alive, and the two of them still couldn't be bothered to take any of this seriously.
Dean was actually teasing his brother right in the middle of a serious debate.
And Sam only rolled his eyes in response.
Before he could add some real arguments, though, the witch released an indignant hiss. "I've had it with you and your insolence," she announced through gritted teeth and reached for something in her purse, "Even if you are capable of basic protection charms, you should have known better than to mess with us."
While the other witches prepared to back her up, her glare intensified tenfold. Seething with fury, she looked ready to charge.
Charlie held her breath in anticipation.
But nothing happened.
Three seconds passed.
Then five, then ten.
And nobody even had moved an inch – neither the witch nor her peers, but the same applied to the brothers.
It was only after five further seconds that Sam's deep voice split the heavy silence.
"My brother was right about the Survival 101, you know," he commented quietly as he stepped around the table to come to a halt in front of the witch to look directly into her unblinking eyes, "No enemy will ever tell you what he's capable of." To stress his point, several light bulbs exploded at once and those left started flickering ominously.
"We may be mere hunters, but..." Sam went on as he averted his gaze from the witch to send warning looks at the others, and his eyes were glowing.
Charlie's breath got caught, both at his words and at the sight – and then she heard a faint yet unmistakeable rustling noise.
The glow Sam was emitting cast a large shadow at the wall and ceiling behind him – and even from her safe spot in the corner, she could see a giant set of wings spreading from its shoulders.
And her breath caught anew.
She had read the books and knew what to expect, but this, this...
The shadows cast on the ceiling, large, dark and magnificent, held the vague shape of actual wings, but they took no constant form. Instead, their outline kept spreading and retreating randomly around a basic bone structure. For the lack of a better word – it looked like his wings were flaring.
And as she could not tear her eyes off them, Charlie realized numbly that they probably were.
Just like the fires of hell they had ultimately been composed of.
Gulping, she felt an ice-cold shiver running down her spine, and as she kept her eyes glued to Sam's amazing but so absolutely menacing appearance, she even forgot for a moment that she was one of two lucky persons in the room whose movements had not been restricted.
She felt herself getting afraid, and her friend's next words did not help with that, either.
"I'm sure you realize now that I could kill all of you on whim," Sam spoke at the same quiet voice he had used earlier.
In the dim, flickering lamplight, underneath the menacing shadow of an angel and after a threat that technically wasn't even directed at her, she noticed herself panicking just a bit.
But then the flickering stopped and the lights turned on again. From one moment to the other, Sam's otherworldly glow vanished as if it had never been there in the first place, and everyone in the room gasped for air as they could finally move again.
"But that doesn't mean I would," Sam clarified as he extended a hand to the witch who looked shaken up pretty fundamentally. "We need you to stick to the rules," he stressed and offered her a small, encouraging smile, "But if you're willing to talk to us, we might still be able to help you."
The witch stared at him in a mixture of terror and disbelief – and Charlie honestly couldn't blame her for that. Surprisingly, though, she took Sam's hand at last.
And they cracked the actual case within another two hours only.
"I didn't even know that all contracts with demons got cancelled when we finished the trials," Sam mused as they were walking back to the car afterwards.
"But it kind of figures," Charlie pondered in response, "Nobody can come collect the debt anymore."
"Seriously, those witches should be grateful they won't get dragged into the pit after all," Dean grumbled as he pulled the keys from his pocket, "But instead, they keep whining about losing their mojo. Dumbasses."
"Well, not many of them have natural spiritual abilities," Sam offered with a shrug, "Of course it causes a riot when more than half the world's witches lose their powers overnight, especially since none of them figured out hell just shut down."
"I sure wonder whether they can stand their ground against the vampires, shifters, and whatever else there is, with their numbers diminished like that," Charlie mused and sent the brothers a sheepish look, "But I'm guessing you'll help them there, huh?"
"No need to kill everything," Dean stated and tilted his head, "But there is still enough monsters left that deserve it."
They arrived at the Impala at last, and Charlie looked at it longingly. The brothers had invited her to tag along - and that cheeseburger party sure sounded tempting. But she had a life to get back to - or more acurately, a gorgeous girlfriend she'd hate to disappoint. So she had to decline for the moment, but they had still made her promise to drop by every once in a while. And she would. "So for you, it's back on the road again," Charlie summarized.
"Yeah," Dean chuckled as he opened the door and shrugged, "You know, hunting things."
"Saving people," Sam added.
"The family business," Dean finished with a grin.
Waving after them as they drove into the sunset on a newly paved road, Charlie couldn't help smiling to herself. The boys had gone through the worst nightmares and accomplished the most impossible goals, and if anyone deserved a smooth ride, it was them.
Although she had not expected it to look quite like that, they had found their happy end at last – in doing what they had always been best at anyway.
The Long Way Home - End
Notes: So it's over at last. As always, I'd be really happy about feedback/reviews/whatever :) And let met tell you one last time for this story: thank you so much for reading and supporting it! You guys are the best!