So here we are… the final chapter. It's been a long ride, guys, but you, my faithful reviewers, for holding on the entire time. For that, I sincerely thank you. For all of the sweet, wonderful reviews conveying their sympathy for both the battle with my father's leukemia, and the death of my incredibly sweet brother-in-law, Andy. Like I said, it was your reviews that kept me going. I doubt I would have finished this, if hadn't been for a delightful group of reviewers who cheered me on, and assured me that my writing too bad. So again… thank you so much. So here's the last chapter. And if you liked this at all, I've got the sequel in the works. It'll be Dean and Caleb continuing on North Carolina to meet Esme and the coven of witches.
A/N 1- I borrowed another wonderful fic from Ridley, although this one does not go in the Brotherhood AU series, but is still great. It's called 'Like Forever Had Gone By'
And that was all that it boiled down to.
He Had Saved Sammy.
Elizabeth had heard about Sam, back when she met Dean, and had knew more about him than she did about Dean.
Why? Because practically everything Dean did, every breath he took, was aimed at protecting Sam.
She knew some of this firsthand, from Dean. In the earlier years, after the aftermath that Peter Marcus had wreaked, Dean had wanted his younger brother.
Who at the time, had been taken by his maternal grandfather, Charles Connor.
Dean wanted Sam, for two different reasons.
One was automatically understandable. He wanted Sam for comfort … but the other reason was to protect him.
His grandfather, he had told his father, couldn't possibly protect Sammy because he didn't know what was out there.
Thissaid by a ten-year-old little boy, determined to keep his younger brother safe from what he did know what was out there, hiding in the dark.
Caleb had reluctantly told her a little back then after Pastor Jim had given her a ring, telling her about the little boy who so intrigued her.
How his mother, Mary was killed in a fire when Dean was four. There was a demon involved, and Mary had been suspended on the ceiling, her abdomen slit open.
Dean had seen it, before his father had placed a baby Sam in Dean's arms and told him to run.
For a year after that, watching his mother die, Dean wouldn't talk.
It had taken intensive therapy with Mac before he spoke again, Caleb had told her.
Although Mac had told her that he believed it had been his son that had gotten a young Dean to open up.
He'd also climb into Sam's crib at night, so that if any more monsters came a-calling during the night… they'd have to go through Dean to get to his little brother.
It was a habit, Caleb admitted, that Dean never completely grew out of.
Wherever the Winchesters where staying; Dean always slept on the bed closest to the door… clutching a razor-sharp hunting knife under his pillow.
In fact, Elizabeth knew it's presence was under his cheap hospital pillow right now.
He loved John Winchester, Caleb had told her. He was more than a beloved mentor, he was more like a uncle or a second father.
In fact, Elizabeth knew that Caleb had identification that ID'd him as Caleb Winchester, as he had used it here once before.
But unfortunately, after his wife's death, John Winchester's parenting skills had went to hell.
Elizabeth hadn't noticed all of this at first… when Dean was younger. But once she had been allowed in their inner circle, she had been allowed tidbits about John's child-rearing, it had all slowly been revealed.
How Caleb had valiantly tried to protect the boys… despite John's erratic moods.
How John used Dean to control Caleb and Sam to control Dean.
She broke her thoughts of John Winchester, and focused on her patient. "You guys better find a way to fix this… or I swear to God I'll go down to hell myself and drag your ass back."
Dean shot her a crooked smile. "That I'd love to see," the smile remained, but sobered. "So I can I blow this popsicle stand?"
Elizabeth sighed. "I wish you'd stay one more day… but I understand. Time is of the essence. So yes, you're free to go, but under strict instructions to take it easy. And I mean it. Let's roll you down. While you're already in the wheelchair."
It was a grim little group that marched out to the Impala and Mac's Land Rover.
When they came to a stop before the cars, Dean managed a grin for Elizabeth, and while standing on still-trembling legs, did something he had never done before.
He gave her a kiss on the cheek, a soft one, the merest brushing of his lips against her face.
"Goodbye Liz."
And with a burst of sudden clarity, Elizabeth knew what he was doing.
He was saying goodbye. As in the final time.
"No," she said, shaking her head vehemently. "No, damn you. Don't you go saying your goodbyes. Either you and Caleb are going to find your witch in North Carolina, or Sam and Mackland will find something at Jim's. But this is not goodbye. This is see you later," she paused, then asked sharply. "Got it?"
Dean smiled faintly. "Yes, ma'am."
"All right then," Elizabeth cursed herself as she felt the stinging start up behind her eyes again. "Now get your ass out of here. And I expect to see you back here… uninjured, and with good news."
He started to make a smart-ass reply, but stopped as he saw her eyes shimmer with moisture.
"All right," he whispered. "I'll try my best, Liz."
She nodded briskly, after hugging Mac, Caleb and Sam, she kissed Dean's cheek once more.
They locked eyes once more, hers as soft and sad as Dean had ever seen them.
Then she turned, and fled back into the hospital.
Dean felt miserable at causing Elizabeth any torment.
But he shoved it aside as he told himself
Had to be done, man. If you hadn't made the deal Sammy would be dead.
He felt Caleb's arm gently take hold of his good arm as he started to sway.
Looking at Sam, he asked, with a raised eyebrow. "You gonna be okay, Sammy?"
His younger brother snorted. "Am I gonna be okay?"
Dean frowned. "Yeah. Why?"
"Look at yourself Dean! You have a cast on your arm, a gunshot wound which was badly infected… still is, apparently, if Dr. McCroy has you on such strong antibiotics. So I'm fine… you should be concerned about yourself."
"Dude… chill. I just meant are you gonna be okay with us splitting up. You seemed kinda tense about it up in hospital room."
Sam shoved his hands in the pockets of his jeans, appearing sheepish. "It's just… for a few a rare times, we haven't been separated since you came to get me from Stanford."
It was hard to imagine, but Stanford had been three years ago.
And the kid was right, Dean reflected. Except for the time that Sam had gotten angry with Dean, and went after their father, when he snuck out to hunt down the other 'special children' like himself, after Dean had spilled the beans. When Sam was possessed by demon-bitch Meg, and took off.
But the last time had been the worst. Because physically, Sam hadn't gone anywhere.
He had been dead.
Thinking about it gave Dean a horrible mental picture… Sam laying still, silent… not breathing on that fucking mattress.
He shuddered.
"Dean," came Sam's worried voice. "Dean, are you okay, man? You just went really pale. Do we need to take you back inside?"
Shaking his head, Dean came back to the present. He swallowed hard, the bitter taste of bile in his mouth. Like having a mouthful of acid-soaked cotton balls.
"I'm okay, Sammy. Just… bad memories."
Sam nodded.
Mac cleared his throat. "I hate to break this up, boys… but we probably should get going," he looked sideways at Dean and Caleb. "Would you like to take the Land Rover? It might be more comfort-"
"No," Dean said immediately. "I'd rather have the Impala."
Home
But Caleb would be with him. So it would be okay.
He turned back to his brother. "So… I'll see ya soon Sammy. It shouldn't be too long, but if it does-" he shrugged helplessly.
Sam stepped up to his brother and carefully took his good arm in an awkward sort of embrace. "If it does," he gave his brother a small smile. "It'll be like forever has gone by."
Dean jolted.
Sam looked up at him, dimples appearing. "What? Did you think I'd forgot?"
"No," Dean replied hoarsely. He swallowed hard. "We'd better get going."
(A/N: I don't mean to offend anyone by classifying Death Cab for Cutie, Maroon 5, Linkin Park, or Fall Out Boy as emo music. I don't really believe there's any really classifications like that for rock. If you like 'em, great… if you don't… well, just don't listen to them. You don't need to mock other people's choices. But this is how I see Dean and Caleb.
Mine for instance, are rather eclectic. My favorite band of all time, for instance, is Metallica, but I also really enjoy Linkin Park, and Death Cab for Cutie. I also enjoy Creedence Clearwater Revival, Kansas, and Aerosmith but also have Breaking Benjamin, Dashboard Confessional, Staind, Nirvana, Korn, Marilyn Manson, Johnny Cash, Pearl Jam, Bush, The Killers, Macy Gray, Missy Elliot, Eminem, Pink Floyd, Foreigner, Guns N' Roses, The Rolling Stones, The Who, Interpol, Green Day, 30 Seconds to Mars, Panic at the Disco and yes, My Chemical Romance on my iPod. And that's just naming a few. So nobody get mad as I listen to most of the so-called 'emo' music.)
After all the goodbyes were said, Caleb and Dean settled into the Impala and watched as Sam and Mac drove away in the Land Rover.
Caleb looked over at Dean with a wicked grin.
"What Damien?"
"I hope you've updated your music collection since the last time I was in here… or maybe that Sammy left some of-"
"Some of what," Dean snorted. "Some of his emo music? I hate that crap. God, I swear if I have to listen about some dude joining a Black Parade, just one more time… somebody's gonna get shot," shaking his head, Dean said. "I knew it was a horrible idea to install a CD player when I was rebuilding her," He sighed. "But they stopped making cassette tapes, so what ya gonna do?" he said on a shrug, forgetting the injury momentarily.
It chose to remind himself by sending a white-hot bolt of electric pain down his arm, making him bite down on a scream that threatened to escape.
But he must have looked as bad as he felt, because all talk ceased and Caleb began to dig around in the plastic bags he been carrying.
He came up with a bottle of water, and a round amber prescription bottle.
"Here," Caleb said, shoving two white pills into Dean's hand. "Take these."
But of course Dean, being the stubborn bastard that he was, eyed the pills with an air of suspicion. "What are they?"
"OxyContin… which Elizabeth proscribed herself."
Caleb looked at his friend. All of the signs of Dean in extreme pain was there. His face was taut and set, lips moving as he silently sang to himself.
"Dude, take your pills." Caleb said mildly.
"Nah, I'm good," Dean said, forcing a smile for Caleb. "Everything's fine."
Hah. If that smile had meant to reassure Caleb, it had the exact opposite reaction.
Because watching Dean smile was more like watching a grimace of agony.
Which meant he was going to have to play dirty, if he wanted Dean to take those pills.
"Okay," he said amiably. "If you be a good boy and take your pills… we'll install some new temporary rules of the road."
Dean narrowed his eyes. "Like what?"
"How 'bout the cripple picks the music, driver shuts his cakehole?"
"And if I don't take the pills?"
"Hmm," Caleb paused for a moment to rifle through the CD collection. "Then I see a lot of emo music coming your way, Deuce. Let's see here… we have… Death Cab for Cutie, Maroon 5, Linkin Park… oh, here's a good one… Fall Out Boy."
Dean growled. "Fine… I'll take the damn pills… just put those fucking things away man."
With a small chuckle, Caleb carefully placed the pills in Dean's right hand.
Who, with a roll of his eyes, placed them in his mouth, then picked up the bottle of water and washed them down.
"So Princess," Caleb asked. "What are you gonna have us listen too?"
A pale imitation of Dean's usual smirk washed over his face, and he began to flip through their CD case, until he came up with…
A burned CD that Sam had obviously made. Written on the front, in black marker was:
Dean's CD- The Best of Mullet Rock
Caleb laughed, and Dean gave a little grin as he pushed the CD in.
Familiar rhythms played, then James Hetfield's familiar growl came through the speakers.
"And the road becomes my bride" "I have stripped of all but pride" "So in her I do confide" "Gives me all I need"
Caleb hung his head. "I'm gonna regret making this little deal, aren't I? I have a feeling we're going to be listening to Metallica and eighties crap all the way to North Carolina."
Dean bobbed his head happily. "Yep."
"And with dust in throat I crave"
"Only knowledge will I save"
"To the game you stay a slave"
"Nomad vagabond"
"Call me what you will"
As they pulled out of the hospital's parking and began to drive in the opposite direction, Dean couldn't help but look back in the direction his brother had taken.
Caleb caught the glance. "Everything's gonna be okay, Deuce."
"How do you know that Damien?"
He grinned, trying to show more confidence that he felt, and distract Dean. "Psychic, Deuce… remember."
It worked, albeit briefly as Dean cracked a grin. "You sayin' you've a vision of me in your creepy-ass head?"
"Yep. I saw you, me, and Sammy all running the Triad… Mac living in Hawaii."
Dean snorted, but became serious again. "Caleb man, if this doesn't work… if we can't-"
"Shut up Deuce. It's gonna work."
"I'm just saying… take care of Sammy for me. Take care of each other."
Caleb glanced over at him. "What part of 'shut up Deuce' did ya not understand?"
"All of it."
A beat of silence, and Caleb blew out a breath. "You know I'd watch out for Sammy, dude. You don't even have to ask. But nothing, I repeat, nothing… is going to happen to you."
Dean smiled suddenly. "All right Damien."
Suddenly suspicious at the easy acquiescence, Caleb cocked his head to the side. "Okay… what's going on in that freaky head of yours now?"
The smile burst into a grin. "Just wondering if we need to pop in your Enya CD?"
"I told you it was Mac's!"
Dean just smiled back, smug and serene, and Caleb felt his shoulders slump.
This was gonna one hell of a long drive to North Carolina.
The End (Thanks to everyone for reading!)