So here we are. Welcome to the end. I'll try to keep this A/N short. I've never written a story this long over this length of time, and it's a bit bittersweet to know that we've reached the end. It's something that over the past six months especially I've really had to chip away at to get going. And most of what I was able to do was because of you guys, the silent readers, the commenters, the people that I've had some great discussions with, everyone that's interacted with this story in some fashion, thank you. Whether you've been here since the beginning, or somewhere in the middle, or now, or read this long after it's finished, just know that I truly, honestly appreciate you taking the time to do so. It means the world to me. I've looked back over the comments on this story so many times when writer's block had me down, and they never cease to make me smile. If anyone wants to leave one, short or long, about the whole thing or the ending or something else, I'd of course love to read it and thank you in advance :)

Cutting this off before it gets too long or sappy here, no chick-flick moments, right? This one is done, but don't fear, I've got some more stuff coming down the pipeline, some demon Dean stuff, some episodic stuff, some outsider stuff, I'm planning on writing a lot this summer, so I'll be around.

Back to this story. Songs I listened to a ton while writing and partially inspired some parts it if anyone is interested: "Ghosts That We Knew" - Mumford & Sons; "I Will" - Matchbox Twenty; "Boxes" - Goo Goo Dolls.

Lyrics belong to their respective owners. This epilogue ties into 12x06, Celebrating the Life of Asa Fox, no real spoilers, and anything recognizable belongs to the show itself. One last time: thank you and I hope you enjoy.

So give me hope in the darkness that I will see the light

'Cause oh that gave me such a fright

But I will hold as long as you like

Just promise me we'll be alright

"Ghosts That We Knew" - Mumford & Sons

It was two weeks later that the brothers and Cas went their separate ways for the first time in a few months. They had found a probable werewolf case in Texas, and with no other hunters nearby, Cas offered to take care of it. Sam would have backed him up, but the same day, Dean got wind of a nasty ghost case in Cheyenne, Wyoming. It had made the local news and then some a few towns over, since it seemed to be straight out of a horror movie.

Parents, two young kids, new house, something evil inside. Knives had been flung into walls, a few of the windows exploded, the doors locked by themselves, the whole nine yards. It was their job description, and Dean enjoyed annoying Sam with the Ghostbusters theme whenever he got the chance. Nasty or not, they had to get back on the horse sometime, even after how the last one had ended. Cas headed for Texas and Sam and Dean went northwest, since they had more experience with ghost cases, and Cas usually fared better against something corporeal.

The drive went fine and thankfully so did the hunt, which was a rarity they were both extremely grateful for. Unlike last time, the ghost they got rid of was the one causing the problems, and things went back to normal with just one thing set on fire, not two. The family would be moving, but they were alright and out of danger, which was what mattered. Of course, the Winchesters didn't get out without some cuts and bruises, but nothing warranting more than a slight motel room triage, which was good by them.

There was ice from the small machine put up against Dean's cheek and butterfly bandages affixed to Sam's forehead, but the night, well, morning when they got in, ended peacefully and they caught a few hours of sleep before the sun actually rose.

They were packing up their motel room later that morning when Dean got a call from Jody asking if they knew a hunter named Asa Fox.

Of course they did, wendigo legends didn't die easy, and they left soon after to pick up Jody before continuing on that trajectory. She had insisted that she could meet them there, but Dean had insisted back that Sioux Falls was basically on the way anyways and that really, it was no trouble. When Sam suggested that they could use the car ride to catch up, Jody couldn't say no.

"And you're sure this is a good idea?" Sam checked for the tenth time in the past two hours as the Impala ate up miles beneath them. Dean's fingers were lightly drumming to one of the cassettes he had in the tape player and he nodded along to the music.

"Baby steps to get back into the world, right? We took on a hunt, that went fine, now we need to take on the hunters," he cast Sam a glance and smirked slightly. "Meet some people, catch up, see what's been going on. Couldn't hurt," Dean added with a shrug.

Sam was still watching him carefully, not in a way that didn't convey trust, but in one that just honestly wanted to make sure that Dean would be alright with their next course of action. They hadn't exactly been out among other hunters in a while, though they had been doing research and sending a few cases out from the bunker.

A ghost had been a good place to start, though, for them to get back out in the field. Billie hadn't popped up with any warnings, so Dean assumed the pace and progress they were making was acceptable for all parties involved.

They picked up Jody the next day, who was happy to see them despite the circumstances. Dean returned her tight hug with one of his own and they spent the majority of the car ride in some sort of conversation. They had things to catch up on since they had last seen each other over Christmas, of course, even though they'd been in contact since their last almost failed ghost case.

"So, honestly," Jody piped up once things had lulled for a minute. Sam turned in his seat to acknowledge her better while Dean inclined his head. "All three of you made snow angels?"

Sam let out a breathy laugh at that and nodded.

"Two guys that saved the world and an angel made more angels," she chuckled, "what I would have given to see you guys trying to pull that off."

"Sam was like a turtle. Put him on his back, he can't get back up." His laugh was cut off by a slight over exaggerated 'ow' and rubbing at his arm after Sam gave him a warning hit. There was no heat in his eyes, of course. Despite having just finished a hunt and being on the way to a funeral, Dean would say Sam looked relaxed if he didn't know better. But he did know better.

The ease in his shoulders, the slight smile on his face as he looked between Dean, Jody, and the open road, it was more than just relaxed. It was relief. That they were all together, that the world wasn't ending, that things were looking up, dealer's choice. But it had been a long time since Dean had seen that look on his brother's face. So if he snuck glances at it time and again while driving, sue him, as if it didn't put him more at ease too.

"The snowman," Dean added, "was Cas's genius plan, so you have him to thank for that work of art."

Jody actually looked a bit surprised at that, but happy nonetheless. "I'll be sure to mention it to Claire, she'll get a kick out of it."

They kept to lighter topics for the remainder of the drive, but Jody got a bit quieter once they crossed the border and she gave them directions to the house itself. Dean didn't ask how she knew Asa, it wasn't his place, but based on her reaction and how long he'd known her, they had probably been close, at least for a time.

Dean could hear the rock music blaring from the house as he pulled in along with numerous other cars. Seemed a lot of hunters knew or knew of Asa. For the first time on the whole journey, something akin to nervousness twisted in Dean's gut. He hadn't been around that many people since everything happened, and especially not hunters. But a house full of them? Still, they were there to support Jody and get back to life as normal, so he stomped on the nervous flames until they were nothing but smoldering embers, still present, but not threatening to set his facade on fire.

Jody walked a few paces ahead and Sam glanced over at Dean, another silent 'you good?' written on his features. Dean gave an almost imperceptible nod and followed Jody into the house.

Inside it was just as he had expected. Maybe thirty or so hunters were dotted around the house, talking and swapping stories over a beer or two or three. It didn't fit the typical description of a wake or a funeral, but then again, hunters weren't just ordinary people.

Jody introduced them in passing to Asa's mom, who she then followed to another part of the house, leaving the brothers standing in the foyer, looking just a bit out of place. But if they knew how to do anything it was blend in with the flick of a switch.

"You wanna grab us a few beers?" Sam suggested, turning his gaze from a pair or people on one of the sofas to look at Dean, who shrugged.

They split off and Dean followed the loudest noises to the kitchen, where a group of hunters were sitting around a table sharing stories. He heard mentions of a few ghosts as he got closer to the room, but it wasn't until he was actually inside, bending down to get a beer, amulet swinging in front of his face as he did so, that he actually caught the tail end of what they were saying.

"…nasty one too, made the papers. I was gonna head over, but damn, they're fast."

"Well hey, props to them getting back out there."

"But seriously? I mean, a plane crash, then amnesia, and boom here he is months later taking out ghosts in where was it, Colorado? Like nothing happened? Is the guy even human?"

Now that completely caught Dean's attention. He knew Sam and Jody has gotten the word out, and he, Sam, and Cas had been sending some cases to other hunters, but telling stories about him? He didn't know whether to be creeped out or flattered. But from the tones of their voices, he was thinking more the latter.

He slowly turned around, dangling a beer bottle from his fingers, and surveyed the group of three guys and one woman. "Actually, it was Wyoming," he corrected with a smirk.

It took a second for the hunters to catch what he had said, and when they did, they each blinked a few times. It was almost comical, really.

"You're him," one of the guys with a reddish beard said, "Dean freakin' Winchester."

Dean cocked his head just a bit. "In the flesh." The guy stood up and stuck out a hand for Dean to shake, introducing himself as Bucky Sims, fellow hunter.

"Dude, aren't you dead, like four times over?" one of the others commented, still looking at him with just a bit of impressed awe in his features.

"Yeah, it uh, didn't really take," Dean smiled ever so slightly. No matter how hard the universe tried, he was still there, up and kicking. The guys were literally looking at him as if he were a celebrity, and sure, he and Sam had saved some people, but reactions like this were totally out of the normal for what he was used to. It was appreciation for a job well done instead of confusion, fear, or disgust at trying to explain to people what went bump in the night. Still, it was almost entertaining, and his muscles began to relax.

The guys asked a few more questions, which weren't too intrusive, which Dean appreciated, and when he mentioned a monster someone else picked up on it and told their own stories. It was like a round table of their greatest hits. And Dean was content with just listening and nodding along, but eventually he joined in too.

When he did open his mouth to share a few stories, all eyes were on him like he were a kindergarten teacher reading the most interesting picture book ever to the class. He still had some time to go before things returned to their complete respective normals, but in that moment, he felt more normal than he had in a long time. It was good to be back, even surrounded by strangers that were more familiar with him than he was with them. They all had a common goal, one that they could appreciate between each other, and saving lives and telling crazy stories was highlighted above whatever missteps they may have made along the way.

When Dean eventually excused himself to bring Sam that beer he'd promised, everyone at the table still looked at him the same way. Mutual respect and just a twinge of awe. And Dean found he was alright with that. After all, if people told a few more stories about his and Sam's badassery following this encounter, maybe that was the one good thing to come out of the whole ordeal.

He noticed Sam having a conversation with the young man and woman that had been on the couch earlier and slipped away to look at the rest of the house. In a room that appeared to be a study, he fiddled around with an angel blade in a glass case, half surprised to find out that it appeared to be real. But still, five wendigos in a night? Really? If people believed all the stories about he and his brother coming back to life though…maybe five wendigos wasn't so unimaginable.

"Hey," Sam greeted, having found Dean in the study, and paused to wait for Dean to look at him before he said anything else. "Did you know people told stories about us?"

Ah, so apparently Sam had gotten the same treatment Dean himself had. What next, star on the Hollywood walk of fame? Just the thought had Dean smirking and nodding his head. "Walked in on them regaling the tale of the ghost we just took out in light of our recent situation. Apparently we're a bit legendary," he added with just a touch of pride in his voice.

Sam caught onto it too and some of the amused disbelief faded from his features. After nearly a decade and half of following in the family business, some stories were bound to get told.

"Think we should see if they want any autographs?" Dean pitched, which elicited a chuckle from Sam.

"On what?"

Dean thought about it for a second. "Gun barrel. Or a…duffle bag or something, not sure how much they could resell it for though since we're both officially dead a few times over."

Sam's light laughs echoed through the room encompassing them, somewhat removed from the bustling noise of the rest of the house.

"That's a lot of stories to tell," he nodded with a slight smile stuck to his face.

"That it is. In a few weeks we'll have some new ones, the grind never stops." Dean took a drink from his beer bottle and returned the angel blade to its frame. He clapped Sam on the shoulder as he passed by, his little brother following in his footsteps as they went to rejoin the rest of the hunters.

Yes, there were more stories to be told and remembered. Tens, maybe hundreds, depending on how long their luck lasted.

Stories of Sam Winchester: the boy king, Lucifer's vessel, who put the devil back in the box at the cost of his own life and saved hundreds of others, and even the world itself, in the years after he was released. Who nearly lost his life to send every demon back to hell and gave up a normal life of his own to ensure that ordinary people got to keep theirs.

Stories of Dean Winchester: the Michael sword, the soldier who followed his father's orders but made a name for himself all the same, whose fearless devotion to his family and the people he saved would go down in history. Who took on the Mark, destroyed a knight of hell, and walked the Earth as a demon, only to save it by convincing God's own sister that mending fences was better than burning them down.

Stories of the Winchesters and their ability to almost break the world before righting it again better than before. Whose legacy would live on in the hundreds of people they saved no matter the consequences and the stories that would be passed down of the selfless, driven hunters, and their black Impala that raced across the states like a dark steed carrying her heroes toward the never-ending battleground.

The End