Disclaimer: I don't own SPN.

This is it! The final chapter! You want to know the sad truth? This is the first story I've completed in a LONG time (my Easter one shots don't count because they're, well…one shots). But I digress!

Also, if anyone's wondering about where my Variables story went…sure, I've got over 50 chapters already written but I read over it intensely and it was just not working. So I've decided to rewrite it completely and focus on Moments and my Henry Chronicles in the meantime.

Thanks to LaughingLadybug and EmilyAnnMcGarrett-Winchester for your reviews. You guys are seriously awesome for sticking with me for these 10 chapters! :D And thanks to anyone else who reviewed previously (Kaleesh, moira4eku and kasey123)! Also, thanks for the 36 follows, 19 favourites and 3448 views! :)

"Alright, this is it." John pulled over outside an ancient, weathered, two-storey bunker built on a snowy hill. In the side of the bank was a door built into a brick wall and this appeared to be the only way in, just as Larry had said.

"Whoa!" Sam gasped as they got out of the car, his breath misting in the chilly air. "That's so cool!"

"It's so ugly," Dean said, crossing his arms. John knew that he still wasn't normal after the whole 'being possessed by Abaddon' thing but he also knew that Dean would never willingly talk about it and had decided that his son could have a little while longer of stubbornness before John would make him talk.

John also knew that Sam wasn't alright either. After all, the poor boy had had a demon wearing his brother's skin telling him that he was worthless and a burden and it had taken John and Dean a long talk and a tight family hug (and by God, John was growing sentimental) to make him see that Dean didn't hate him and loved him very much. John also growled whenever he saw the symbol that Abaddon had carved into his forearm, which Henry had informed them was the crest of the Knights of Hell. The carving had been deep enough that John had had to stitch it up and it was going to scar, leaving a permanent reminder of what the eight year old had been through.

"When's the last time anyone was in that dump?" Dean added, wrinkling his nose.

"About forty years ago, give or take," John answered. Dean made a face. "Henry, will you do the honours?"

Henry accepted the proffered box and opened it to reveal a silver key with the Men of Letters inscription on the top. They walked down the concrete stairs to the door and then Henry fitted the key into the keyhole, turned it and pushed the door open. The inside of the building was dark, so John sent Dean to get flashlights and they slowly made their way inside, shining their lights around. The beams travelled across a whole bunch of olden, antique, 1950's electrical equipment downstairs that left John speechless.

"Son of a bitch," he finally murmured.

"Whoa…" Sam whispered. Even Dean seemed in awe of the stuff. Henry stared around curiously, as though he couldn't take in enough.

"I've never been here before," he commented. "This must have been the location they were going to take me and Josie to after our initiation." He suppressed the brief pang of sadness at the thought of his friend, who he sincerely hoped had died at some point before they cut Abaddon up and buried her near the warehouse.

"Ham radio, telegraph, switchboard…" John listed, his flashlight lingering on each piece of equipment as he slowly made his way down the stairs with Sam. "Damn, this must have been their nerve centre before they were all killed."

"This was the Men of Letters main base," Henry said quietly, remaining upstairs on the 'balcony' with Dean. "This must have been how we gave all of the appropriate information to the appropriate hunters."

"And this place really is the safest place on the planet?" John said. "Larry was telling the truth?"

"As far as I know," Henry confirmed. "The elders often spoke about our main base and its security. It's warded against any creatures and evil on the planet and is impenetrable without the key."

"Like Larry said," Dean remembered.

"So I could raise Sam and Dean here? Give them a normal life? And they'd be safe?" John said. Sam and Dean's heads whipped around.

"You're going to let us stay and go to school? We're going to have a home?" Sam breathed hopefully.

"I've been thinking about it, Sammy." John clapped Sam on the shoulder. "Henry's right. My first priority should've been you and Dean, not hunting. If it's not too late, I'm going to make it right. I'm still going to hunt and you're still gonna learn how to protect yourselves but we're going to settle down and have a home."

"I think this would be the perfect place," Henry confirmed with a small smile. Sam threw his arms around John, who patted him on the back before gently breaking free.

"Hey, look!" Dean pointed at a table with a chess board, ashtray and dirty cups. "Halfway through coffee and chess and then they disappeared!"

"To respond to the alarm call that ended the Men of Letters," Henry said quietly.

"Not quite," John said. "You're still alive. The Men of Letters aren't dead yet."

Henry smiled down at him before catching sight of a fuse box on the wall and striding over. He opened it and flipped a lever. The next minute, lamps began to fizzle and then turn on, bathing the entire room in light.

"Whoa!" Sam and Dean gasped. Sam ran over to the massive table in the middle of the room, which John dubbed the 'command centre'. Printed on the table was a gigantic map of the world and Sam climbed up on a chair to get a better look, while Henry and Dean hurried down to join them.

"Son of a bitch," John murmured for the second time since arriving. In the next room was a massively enormous room with long, polished wooden tables and rows upon rows upon rows of bookshelves absolutely packed to the brims with books.

"I can't believe it…" Henry said quietly, joining John in the doorway to the next room. "I knew of the existence of our main base but I never knew that anything like this existed. Now I know just where we got all of our information…"

"Hey, everyone?" Dean said from where he and Sam were just behind John and Henry, also peering into the next room. "I think we found the Batcave!"

John snorted.

"Batcave it is, then," he said. Yet again, he found himself thanking the heavens for dumping Henry in their motel room that night. He had his father, he had his sons and now he had a home! Maybe for the first time in a long time, he could allow himself to be happy.

After all, John knew, it was what Mary would have wanted.