Warnings: Slash, Incest
Disclaimer: Supernatural and its characters are owned and copyrighted by Warner Bros Television.
A/N: This is the final installment of this series. Thanks for Reading.
John didn't comment on his son's mood swings. They'd been back on the hunt for a week now. Before they left, Dean had seemed pumped about getting back out there and resuming the family trade. He hardly slept and spent most of his waking hours training. Even John couldn't keep up with the rigorous pace Dean had set for himself. John briefly remembered the incident at the motel, when he'd shot at Sam but hit Dean. He remembered telling Missouri how fast Dean had moved; like he wasn't even human. Those thoughts haunted him now. With all that had happened, Sam's change, his kidnapping and release and then Sammy's disappearance, it was easy to forget that Dean was Mary's baby too.
"Easy to forget Dean," he whispered sadly.
He felt like he'd forgotten Dean all of his life. Priority had always been keeping Sam safe and finding Mary's killer. Sam was gone. He'd never gotten the chance to say so many things he should have said before or since his change. Sam's last image of him was being shot at and Dean coming to the rescue. The first time it had been words John fired in rapid succession when Sam announced he was leaving. Even then, Dean had tried to defend Sam, convince John that a trial semester wouldn't be such a bad idea. If thinks went south, they could always get Sam and move on. John hadn't listened. He'd been to angry and scared to listen. It wasn't as if he didn't see that day coming. He knew Sam was destined for great things, but he hoped it would be much later.
Now as he sat up on the bed of their motel room, reading by the dim lamp that sat on the nightstand and watching Dean get some much needed sleep, he remembered what his friend Missouri had said to both of them. First she took Dean's hands and softly spoke the words "soon." Then tearfully she took his own hands and whispered, "let go." He wasn't sure he could. It seemed like the hunt, his life had been a colossal waste of time. He had prepared his boys for one thing and one thing only and now in a matter of months all that had changed. Whatever was happening with Dean, John sensed it would happen soon. The night before they left, Dean seemed anxious, like he was expecting something to happen. The following morning, he had been so depressed; it reminded him of the second Christmas after Mary's death when Dean fell into a somber mood because Santa Claus didn't come. John had been so wrapped up in a hunt he was on, he'd neglected to even try to buy the list of things five year old Dean had asked for. He was thankful Sammy was still too young to know what was going on.
"You're waiting for him, aren't you?" John muttered as he stared at the resting frame on the bed across from his.
"Tonight," Missouri said in her sleep before waking with a start.
She wasn't sure whether the tears she found streaming down her face were tears of joy or sorrow. She'd never seen anything so beautiful or so frightening. "Oh John," she said as tears continued to roll down her face. Her heart ached at the new levels of loneliness the man was about to endure. She lay back down on the bed and closed her eyes. It seemed like forever before sleep came. That's when she felt the presence and knew exactly what it was. "Be there for him," the voice spoke before she felt the presence depart.
"Now Dean," the voice whispered.
Dean lay stretched out on his bed. He felt the thin mattress dip and the body pressed on top of his own. "We've got work to do," Sam's voice whispered, before capturing his mouth in a hungry kiss.
Dean wanted to speak, wanted to yell. He was happy and angry and confused. He struggled to form the words, too push the entity off his body and demand an explanation.
"Remember," Sam whispered again. Dean felt the warm lips attacking the column of his neck.
He remembered the first time they communicated this way. Dean relaxed and let his subconscious mind take over.
"Why Sam? Why did you leave?"
"Had to protect you. Make sure it was safe for you."
"You've got that backwards. That's my job," Dean replied bitterly.
Something brushed against his face and Dean's eyes slowly opened.
"Sammy," he whispered.
Sam lay on top of him in all his winged glory, stroking Dean's face. "I'm sorry. I had to do this my way."
"You're a selfish son of a bitch," Dean said angrily, "How could you make me promise not to leave you and walk out on me again?"
"I had to secure our future and I almost have. There others like us who want to destroy evil in any form it takes. They come from all walks of life Dean. Vampires, immortals, creatures like me. There's a bigger war to be fought and a bigger enemy to defeat. I can't do this alone Dean. I need you."
"No you don't. You left and went with them. You don't need me."
"You promised Dean, you promised to trust me and never leave me. It's time to keep your word."
Dean stared at the creature that used to be his brother, still was his brother. He loved him so much but wasn't sure he could risk being hurt again. Dean turned his head and looked over at his father sleeping on the bed across from him.
"This is bigger then anything Dad can defeat. He'll be okay. I've seen to it already. Trust me."
Dean stared up at Sam. He did trust him, in spite of everything, he trusted him.
"Kiss me," Dean whispered.
Sam did that and more. He kissed his ferociously as he removed Dean's shirt and then his boxers. Dean arched up into his brother's touches frustrated as Sam moved away.
"It's time."
At Sam's words, sharp pains radiated across Dean's back and shoulders. He almost screamed but Sam's mouth was on his again and then Sam was inside him. Dean wasn't sure but he felt like he was floating. One of Sam's arms was wrapped around his waist. Dean locked his legs around Sam's hips to keep from falling. Dean looked down and over, his father, a usually light sleeper seemed comatose.
"Don't fight it," Sam growled, cradling Dean's head in the palm of his hand.
Another kiss to stifle the scream of agony his older brother was feeling.
"It will be over soon," Sam said without speaking.
Dean's hands were pressed against his brother's chest, his eyes were clenched shut. His brother was still deep inside him as the pain subsided. They glided down and down, Sam extracting himself from Dean as they landed. Dean's eyes opened slowly, he watched the dark eyes of his brother as he stared back at him. Dean could feel something moving behind him. He was afraid to look even though he knew what they were.
"Beautiful," Sam whispered.
Sam took Dean's hand and led him to the mirror over the dresser. He watched with amusement as Dean saw himself in the dull light for the first time.
"They're not like yours," Dean said, slightly disappointed.
"I'm royalty, you're more like a general," Sam smiled, running his fingers through the golden wings. Dean shivered.
"General, huh," Dean beamed with pride.
"Something like that."
"What about dad? I can't just leave him here all alone."
"He won't be alone. It will take some time but he'll be okay."
"Missouri?" Dean asked.
Sam nodded.
"What happens now?" Dean asked, still admiring his new appendages.
"You come with me, organize my army and help me defeat my father."
"You have an army?"
"No, actually you have an army."
"So I'm in charge?"
"Of the army, yes. Of me, no."
"I'll always be your big brother no matter what you are," Dean smirked.
"I should leave your gold winged behind right here," Sam teased before turning the man to him and kissing him again.
John stirred.
"It's wearing off. We have to get out of here," Sam warned.
"He can't hurt you."
"No, but he can still hurt you, you're still part human."
"Aw Sammy, you care," Dean quipped.
"I didn't know it was still possible to be an ass no matter what form you took," Sam shot back.
"Boys stop fighting," John muttered in his sleep.
Both boys stopped, turning to face their father. Both instinctively covered their privates with their hands.
"Can we say goodbye to him?"
"We'll see him again Dean, just not right away."
Dean felt a sharp pain, similar to having a strand of hair plucked from his head. He heard Sam wince and turned to see his brother holding two feathers, one black and one gold. Sam walked to the night stand and opened the draw. He found a pen and a small pad. He scribbled something on it and left the note and the feathers on Dean's pillow.
"Ready?" He asked, taking Dean by the hand.
"Sam. When we defeat your father, will it be over? Will you still need me?"
"Dean, defeating my father and his followers is only the beginning and you and I are forever. It's our destiny. I promise."
John opened his eyes and shielded them from the light that peeped through the thin curtains. The dream he had last night warmed him and scared him. Dean and Sam were in the room, bickering as always. He recalled how their constant battles made him feel normal. He sat up groggily facing the bed across from him. A slow terror crept through him. Dean was gone. He didn't bother to check the window for the impala; something on Dean's bed caught his eye. He cautiously approached as if the thing could leap up and attack him. Two feathers laying side by side, one black the other gold lay atop a note written on the motel stationary.
Dad,
We're still on the same team. Dean and I will fight from the inside, you and Missouri from the outside. Thank you for all you've done. You've prepared us well for our journey, we'll meet again. I promise.
Love,
Sam and Dean
"Take care of each other," John whispered to the empty room. It was the second time he cried since Mary's death.
The End!