Supernatural: Season Sixteen -- (the epilogue) - 2. Episode Two: No Chick-Flick Moments

Dean sat inside in the galley slowly chewing on burnt bacon while rubbing his temples after his long night of drinking. His bottle of whiskey was empty and his buzz was wearing off. Soon a headache would be coming and he could collapse into an exhausted sleep. He crumbled the remaining pieces of bacon and threw the meat on the floor for the dog to eat. He didn't have the stomach to swallow the scrambled eggs he cooked, so he held out the plate for the dog to lick and gobble down the yellow clumps as well.

“Don't feed the dog off the plate,” said Sam as he walked into the galley.

Dean looked up at his little brother with wearily bloodshot eyes. Sam was freshly showered and dressed in his flannel to meet the day. “When did we start wearing flannel all the time,” Dean mumbled trying to remember what kind of clothes they wore when they were kids. He remembered a t-shirt that said ‘I lov hugs’ on it and groaned at how those innocent words seemed so far away now.

“Did you even sleep at all last night,” said Sam as he stepped into the galley. He put his hand on his brother’s shoulder and looked into Dean’s bleary eyes. “Did you spend the rest of the night drinking after I went back to bed?”

Dean groaned and rose from the table vaguely pushing his brother’s hand away. The dog retreated under the table. Dean held the now licked clean plate in his hand and then carefully set it into the sink trying not to make too much noise.

He saw Sam had scrunched his eyebrows and raised his lower lip slightly. He was waiting for his brother to say something. “How was I supposed to go back to sleep after that dream?” said Dean.

“Dean, I've been thinking about it too, and I think it's time for us to retire from hunting.” Sam relaxed his face and tried to use his puppy dog eyes.

Dean looked away and glanced around the unadorned galley and wondered why they never decorated it to make it seem more homely. He loved having a kitchen he could finally cook in. This one felt like a man’s domain, utilitarian and efficient. “We can't just stop,” Dean said over his shoulder. “There are still monsters out there. We still live in the world that Chuck made.” He smoothed down his own flannel shirt. At some point in the night, Dean had managed to get dressed. He wore his own jeans, flannel, and boots.

“We won our freedom right?” said Sam. “There are no more demons chasing after us. There is no more Chuck writing our story anymore. We can stop now.”

“We can't just walk away,” said Dean.

“Yes, we can.” Sam put his hand back and Dean’s shoulder and turned Dean to face him. Dean wouldn’t meet Sam’s eyes. “There are other hunters out there that can take over for us. We can turn the bunker over to a new generation of hunters.” Sam gently shook Dean’s shoulders. “Dean, look at me.” Sam got Dean to glance up at him. “Claire and Kaia and their gang can take over, we can call them the 'Wayward Sisters' or something. Or Charley, or even Garth. Okay, maybe not Garth. Or we could even turn the bunker over to our doubles. I felt kind of bad about the way we abandoned them.”

“You want to turn the Men of Letters bunker over to them?” said Dean. His voice took on a derisive tone.

“They seemed competent. They are us from another universe.” Sam took on an almost pleading manner.

“Really, Sam?” Dean scowled.

Sam twitched his face and shook his head. “Why not?” he said. “I know they're not us, but they are hunters. And if they are anything like us then they are damn good hunters.”

“We can't retire. Retiring is too risky.” Dean was more emphatic.

Sam hunched his shoulders. “What are you talking about? How can quitting be more risky.”

“My dream, Sam.” Dean bent over and put his hands on the table.

“If I don't die in a hunt you'll never live your normal life.” He shook his head back and forth.

“I don't want a normal life if you're not in it,” said Sam. He laid his hand on his brother’s back, between his shoulder blades.

“You don't get a choice in the matter,” yelled Dean. He stood up and this time forcefully pushed Sam’s hand away.

“Then we'll figure something else out. Like we always do,” said Sam. A line they repeated back and forth to each other for several years.

Dean looked at his brother. He had tears in his eyes. “The only times in the past when you had a normal life was when I was not in it. When you were away at school before I came and dragged you back into this forsaken existence. When I was in purgatory, you stopped hunting. So when I'm dead, you will be alone and quit this life. That's what I want. I'm the one who ruins your life. If it wasn't for me, your life would be normal and ordinary like you always wanted.”

Sam's eyes filled with tears. “When I was away at school, I was so angry at you and Dad. But now I have forgiven you. I want you in my life. When you were trapped in purgatory, I was lost without you.”

“Sam, I can't stop hunting. It's in my blood. As long as I'm around, I will always pull you into the mess that is my life. You deserve a chance to be happy. It will never happen as long as you're with me.” A tear ran down Dean’s face.

Sam grabbed Dean by the shoulders again. This time he held them with a tight grip. “Dean, I won't ever be happy if you're not part of my life, normal or not. You have your freewill now. You can change your destiny.” Sam’s voice was insistent.

“Sam, this is an easy decision for me to make.” Dean grabbed his brother’s forearms. “This time I can do it right. I don't have to be afraid of hell. In my dream, I went to heaven, so there's nothing to fear. You will be fine without me.” Dean pulled himself free from his brother’s grip and walked toward the doorway. “I don't feel conflicted about this. Giving up my life for yours is something I always knew I would do.”

Sam tried to pull him back by his arm.

“I don't want to talk about this anymore,” said Dean. He turned his back and pushed through the doorway of the galley.

“I don't want that Dean,” said Sam following behind him. “I don't want you to leave me. How do I know that my life will be happier without you? I'm not the one who had the dream.”

Dean walked down the corridor towards his bedroom door. Sam ran after him.

“Dean.” Sam grasped his brother from behind, holding Dean to his chest. Dean lowered his head, feeling Sam’s strong arms wrapped around him and his face pressed to Dean’s cheek. “Tell me what you saw and let me decide,” Sam said quietly into Dean’s ear.

“You had a wife, and a son,” Dean said slowly. “You lived in a big house, with Baby in the garage. You were surrounded by family photos, and you played catch with your kid, who you named after me. And you grew old, and had glasses, and wore cardigan sweaters, and had crazy white hair.” Dean chuckled at the last bit.

“Who was my wife?”

“I couldn't tell her face was blurry.”

“What was my job? Was I teaching my son to hunt? Did I die?”

“I don't know what your job was,” said Dean. “You were helping your kid do homework. Your life was happy and normal.” Dean didn't tell Sam he saw the anti-possession tattoo on his son's arm.

“Is that all?”

“Isn't that enough? You were married and had a kid. And a home! Something we never had growing up.” Dean pressed his head against his brothers. He could feel Sam’s long soft hair that he always teased him about, but couldn’t imagine him without. They stood there in the corridor and swayed together for a moment.

“That doesn't mean I was happy,” Sam finally said. “I could have been miserable and faking it.”

“Of course you were happy! I saw you smiling,” said Dean. “You don't smile much anymore.”

“Dean, I'm not convinced that I would have a happy life without you in it. We have been through so much together. You are the most important person to me.”

“Sam, please don't make this into a chick-flick moment,” Dean said pulling away from his brother’s embrace.

“Dean, I want you to live. Don't you want to live? After all, we fought for and you're going to give up now?”

Dean turned to face his brother. “Of course I want to live, Sam! But I will trade my life for your happy ending.”

“I want you to have a happy ending too. That's what we have been fighting for. For both of us.” He motioned his hand between the two of them before dropping it to his side.

Dean sighs and gives his brother a pleading look. “Of course, I want to be happy, but I don't think I can,” Dean says in a near whisper. Tears form again in his eyes. Dean swallows hard. “It's my responsibility to take care of you.”

“I'm all grown up now, you don't have to take care of me anymore,” said Sam. “Take care of yourself now.”

Dean turned away from his brother and headed towards his room. The dog that had been following the brothers ran to Dean when he called. “How can I be happy now?” said Dean over his shoulder.

Sam understood what Dean meant. “We will get him back. Amara said she can get into the empty, right?”

“I don't know if I could face him Sam.” After all that had happened, Dean still had not told Sam what Castiel told him before he was taken to the Empty.

“Why not?”

“He sacrificed himself to save me. Sam, how can I repay that?”

“You're willing to give up your life for me, but you're not willing to face him? Dean, that is ridiculous. If we can get him out, he will want to see you again.”

Dean put his hands over his face but said nothing to his brother.

“I know you care a lot about him, Dean,” said Sam. “He's your best friend, someone who you have relied on a lot over the last several years. I've seen how just being with him makes you happy.”

Sam smiled with a smirk on his face. Dean waved his finger at him telling him not to go there.

“I can definitely see the two of you together.” Sam nodded his head up and down while touching his chin.

“Stop it, Sam.”

“I can see you two walking on the beach holding hands and warming yourselves by a bonfire.”

Dean turned away from Sam and traipsed down the hallway toward the garage with a grouchy look on his face.

Sam strode behind him, teasing him with laughter in his voice.

“I can see the two of you going on a picnic after you spend all morning frying chicken and baking pies. It's so adorable when you get all domestic. Oh, or the two of you hiking in the mountains, exploring the forest, and skinny dipping in the lake, with your own little tent all to yourselves. Or going to the movies and holding hands in the dark. Or you teaching Cas how to dance. He is a bit awkward.”

Sam laughed. Dean marched steadily down the long hall trying to ditch his little brother. Their boots thudded on the tile floor.

“How about the two of you snuggled up in the Dean cave smooching on the sofa, with Cas laughing at your bad jokes, while the two of you play with bunny rabbits.”

“Bunnies?” growled Dean. “What the hell are you talking about?”

Sam threw his head back and burst into laughter.

“Or the two of you living on a farm and planting a garden full of flowers and vegetables with lots of watermelons and cantaloupes.”

“No Sam, I think that's your fantasy,” Dean yelled back to Sam down the corridor.

“You loved watermelon when we were kids.”

“Yeah, well I'm a meat man now.”

“And Castiel will be quite surprised to find that out.” Sam covered his mouth and giggled.

“What so funny?”

“You still don't know what that means.”

“Well, then what does it mean?”

“It means you have a large penis.”

“Of course I do! And the ladies love it.”

“I'm sure Cas will too,” said Sam.

“Cas isn't like that,” Dean shouted.

“Whoa, I was kidding Dean. Don't get all defensive.”

Dean stopped at the entrance to the garage and took several deep breaths trying to calm himself. Sam came and stood next to him.

“Dean, what I'm trying to say is that I know Cas is important to you, and if we can get him back, maybe you'll give up this foolish idea of sacrificing yourself for me.”

“I owe it to Cas to try and get him back, but we're not doing any of your nonsense.” Dean pointed a finger into Sam’s face.

“We will find a way,” said Sam.

“You can have your chick-flick moments with Eileen and your kid.”

“Do you know she was Eileen? You said you couldn't see her.”

“I just assume she was,” said Dean.

“Dean, I don't want some chick-flick life.”

“Come on Sam, let me succeed at something.” Dean struck the door to the garage with his fist.

“Why can't you recognize all the success that you've had?” said Sam. “Rescue Cas and be happy with him. I know he loves you and I know deep down you love him too.”

“Did he tell you that?” Dean rested his hands on the door, holding his eyelids shut, afraid that Cas might have told Sam his feeling before disclosing them to Dean.

“No, but I can see it in his eyes. In the way he looks at you.”

“You know I'm not like that,” said Dean. “You know I like the ladies.”

“I'm not saying you have to be that kind of couple,” said Sam. “But if you did I would never judge you for it. You know that. I want you to be happy. No matter what.”

They were standing at the entrance to the garage. The Impala was just on the other side of the door.

“I'm going to go sit in my Baby. She won't judge me or pressure me into anything. Right now I just need to think.”

Dean pulled the handle that opened the heavy door and ascended a short flight of steps. There sat his Baby. She was beautiful. Sam left him to himself and didn’t follow.

Other than his brother, and maybe Cas, Dean loved this car more than anything else. He opened her door and slid into the front seat. “Hello Baby,” he said, as he caressed her steering wheel. “So what do you think about all this?” He asked her.