Epilogue

The night was dark and cold. Clouds covered the moon and blotted out the stars. A shrill wind whistled through the trees and clattered at the windows. Anne Winchester huddled close to the fire while Thaddeus fetched more wood from outside to have enough to keep the flames going through the night.

There was a yelp from the next room. "Mommy! Mommy! There's a monster in my closet!" Anne's son careened into the room, five years old, face a white as his nightshirt. He huddled in his mother's lap.

"Ohh, Andrew! It's alright. You're safe inside the house. There can't be a monster in your closet. You helped me check on the wards this afternoon. Remember?"

Anne carried her son back to his room, but stopped when the closet door rattled. Anne set Andrew down and picked up her pistol. Andrew gasped and hid behind her knees.

"There's something in there!"

The door knob turned and opened to reveal two strangers. Two very tall strangers in hats and leather pants, wearing bright golden stars that belonged to another time.

"Sam? Dean?" Anne lowered her pistol.

"Anne?" Both men looked up and their expressions fell into twin frowns of disappointment.

"I told you it wasn't right yet!"

"Well, we had to try!"

"How did you get in my closet?" Andrew stepped away from his mother as soon as she lowered her gun, and stared up at the men with wide eyes. "Did you kill the monster in there?"

Dean looked down and his face immediately lit up with a huge grin. He dropped to one knee in front of Andrew. "We killed all the monsters in there. Don't you worry, kid."

Anne crossed her arms, a grin teasing its way across her face. "It seems you are good at killing monsters, but not so good at casting spells."

Sam winced. "Yeah—hey—do you have any suggestions?"

Dean shook his head. He still had one hand on the door, which hadn't closed yet. Anne peered over his shoulder. The future looked a lot like a long hallway full of doors. "No! We are not staying and getting mixed up in another hunt!" Dean said.

"We won't leave the house. We'll just ask Anne if she knows a way to tweak this spell."

Dean turned to Anne. "Do you think you could?"

Anne rolled up her sleeves. "I might have some ideas. Let me see your recipe."

Ten minutes later, a cold burst of air announced that Thaddeus had returned. He stomped snow off his boots, arms piled high with wood. "Anne?" The man stared at the sight of his wife huddled over a bowl full of spell ingredients next to an open door that used to lead to a closet and now led to a long hallway. He frowned. Something was missing from this scene. Thaddeus pointed to the empty bed. "Where's our son?"

All eyes turned toward the open door to the future. Anne's face paled. "Uh-oh."

Sam winced, but Dean just jumped to his feet. "Don't worry. He can't have gone far. We'll have him back in a jiff..."

o0o

The night was still, without a hint of a breeze. Not even a blade of grass stirred, as if time had been frozen. The moon and stars shone bright in the sky, but they were all out-classed by the meteor that tried desperately to outrun its long tail.

Samuel Colt saw none of it. Inside his forge, he saw only the light of the fire and the way it glinted off of the surface of the metal in his hands. The meteorite had traveled all the way from England, carried by his ancestors across the sea for this very moment. Seventy-five years ago they had tried and failed to make a weapon that could kill a demon. Tonight, Samuel Colt was determined to succeed.

Samuel placed the lump in a cup inside the forge and watched the metal slowly melt. Beside him, an array of tools and spell ingredients lay ready. He only had one shot at this, and he had to finish before the night was out.

In the back of the room, a door rattled. Samuel Colt frowned and looked up to see two strangers step through, dressed like law men. The gold stars on their chest didn't make any difference here. They still found themselves staring into the black barrel of Colt's gun.

"Ha-ha!" The shorter one didn't care about the bullet pointed at his face. He pumped his fist in the air and cheered. "This looks like Wyoming. That looks like a forge! Fifth time's the charm, Sammy!"

"Fifth time for what?" Colt snapped. He pulled back the hammer on the gun with an audible click.

The taller one heaved a tired sigh. "Oh come on! Why does everyone start out by threatening to shoot us?"

"Because you walked out of my closet, and my closet was empty a few minutes ago," Samuel said. "What are you? What are you doing here?"

The shorter one held out a broken gun with a familiar Latin inscription on the barrel. "We are Hunters, we're from the future, and we were hoping you could help us fix this."

Samuel snatched the gun. He knew it, even though he hadn't seen it yet. He had laid out the design on paper so many times he knew it by heard, and here it was in his hands. Real. Melted. Broken. He glared at the strangers and their magic door.

"What the Hell did you do to my gun?"