Chapter Text
~One Year Later, Somewhere In Missouri~
Sam and Dean limp their way back to the Impala, covered in little specks of crimson and holding silver knives coated in wraith blood. The eldest opens the trunk, both of them tossing their blades and weapon duffel inside, before closing it and leaning back against the car with groans of pain mixed in with relief. Dean checks his phone, opening a text from Benny with a big sappy grin on his dirty face. It's a selfie of Benny and Cas, the angel coming in behind the vamp with his arm around Benny's neck, staring at the camera in a sweet manner. Benny is holding up the middle finger, one eye closed with his tongue out obnoxiously. Dean laughs, shaking his head as he pockets the phone.
"Benny and Cas made it back from their hunt in one piece." He says, reluctantly pushing off the car's trunk to round the driver’s side.
"I told you they could handle it. They did it all the time for a while when you weren't around." Sam says smugly, opening the squeaky passenger door and swinging inside.
One door closes, and then the other. Dean turns the key and Baby roars to life.
"Yeah, yeah. I just worry about them, is all. It'd be like you going out all by yourself- how can I not worry?"
"You've gone soft, dude." Sam teases.
Dean starts driving, getting ready to snap back with some quippy remark when his phone rings. He glances at the screen, handing it to Sam. "Can you handle that? Who is it?"
Sam furrows his brow. "It's an Arkansas area code."
Dean narrows his gaze for a moment, trying to think of who the hell was in Arkansas. Before the light bulb in his brain can flicker on, Sam answers. There's brief conversation, the hunter’s tone is curt and filled with concern. He ends with a quick "We will head your way," before hanging up, and looking across to Dean.
"It's Mama Marguerite." Sam finally says.
There's a long pause, silence hanging in the air. Finally, Dean's expression tightens, and the only response he gives is that of pressing his foot down more into the gas, the Impala barreling down the road in the dead of night.
- - - - - - - - -
Dean hates hospitals, especially when they are in them when they aren't on a case. All it means is sickness, and death. Benny and Cas met them at the front - the angel’s grace back to a hundred percent means he can transport easily once again. One phone call and they were in Arkansas, awaiting the brother's arrival before going inside.
Marguerite was in the Palliative Care unit - hospice, stage four leukemia, terminal diagnosis. Apparently she's had it for a few years now, but has kept it on the down low, not wanting anyone to worry about her. And now, with all her family gone, she's called on the Winchesters, wanting to see them so she can say goodbye.
Dean wishes he'd done more, been there longer, made more grocery trips, and spent more dinners with her. He owed the woman his life, if not for Mama he could have very easily died from withdrawal symptoms from vamp venom. Without her, there were many nights as a kid he could've gone to the hospital himself from exhaustion - she'd babysat the boy's more times than he can count when John would pass through the state on hunts. Sam of course is feeling much of the same, but more in recent memories because he was so young, so older memories were harder to grasp. He can look back and now laugh over her scolding attitude, she having obviously picked up on his brother's love for Benny far before he had. Her talks never failed to make one see the brighter side of things, and her wisdom was always priceless.
The brothers walk in first, eyes tracing over the friend who's plump frame has always been so familiar, and such a comfort, now is frail and fragile appearing, skin holding a waxy and hollow tone. She's hooked up to oxygen, IV in one arm with a morphine drip and fluids - making her comfortable. Sam swallows a lump in his throat, Dean inhales deeply, trying to prepare himself.
"You boys gon' come over and say hi to your mama, or just stand and feel sorry for me all day?" She asks in a weak tone, a smile spreading on her face.
Sam lets out a single, teary eyed laugh. Dean’s face stays almost sour, trying to remain stoic so he doesn't cry. They come to her side, Dean taking her hand, leaning in so she can give a feeble one armed hug, before kissing her forehead. Sam squeezes her hand on the other side, smiling softly. Before Dean pulls away, Marguerite cups his cheek, stroking softly with her thumb.
"Baby, you've changed. A lot, actually." She says thoughtfully, seeing right through the eldest brother.
"I'm not human anymore, Mama." He says softly.
"I don't mean that, honey. I mean in here." She places her hand over Dean's heart, patting softly. "I'm proud of you, baby."
Dean just swallows down a lump in his throat, nodding after a long moment with a wobbly little smile.
She then looks at Sam. "And you… you've grown up. Become an even better man than you were before, which I didn't think was possible, but here you are." She smiles brightly through the sickness, waving for Sam to lean in closer.
She cups his face as well, and Sam holds her hand there, as if he's afraid she will slip away if he doesn't.
"My gorgeous boys..."
"Mama, why didn't you tell us?" Dean finally chokes out. "We could've-"
"Could've what, baby? Found a cure? Bought me time? Honey, this is how it's supposed to end, this is what I want." She pauses, looking at both of them before sighing. "If I'd told you boys I was dyin' you would've fought your asses off to save me, you would've looked at me all the time like you'd already lost me, like you're doin' now."
Sam glances across at Dean, and they hold eye contact for a brief moment.
"I wanted to cherish the time I had with you, not have grief loomin' over us. I want you boys to be happy you had me, not sad because you lost. Wanted our time together to have joy… wanted you to remember me as I was, not for what I am now. Do you understand?"
"We understand, Mama." Sam says with a sniff, his nose running from tears.
Dean just nods, his own silent tears rolling down his face, and just as fast he whisks them away.
"I'm so proud'a you boys… who would've known the lil' scrawny things I'd watch in my shop would grow up to save the world, hmm? Grow into such handsome, great men. I couldn't be happier right now, in this moment. I'm so glad you're here with me."
The silence hangs for a while, Marguerite starting to doze off- the reunion had exhausted her in her sickly state and she needed rest. Sam and Dean don't leave her side.
They're at the hospital for almost a week, alternating in pairs between Sam and Dean, and then Benny and Cas, not wanting Mama to be alone for too long at a time. But, in typical Marguerite Bordelon style, she waits until her boys - all four of them, are tucked away in their motel, and passes in the middle of the night. The day prior had been filled with stories and smiles, reminiscing on old memories of days past. Dean's phone rings with news from the hospital, and he steps outside to take the call, breaking down in the Impala before going back inside to deliver the news.
They bring Mama to her hometown, where she and Harvey had gotten married. They all four build a pyre, give her a hunter’s funeral to send her off. It's a quiet little gathering, just the four of them and some beers. It was exactly how she would've wanted it.
- - - - - - - - -
Day before they plan on heading home, they get a call on one of their burner phones. Benny and Sam are inside some diner, picking up their lunch before heading back to the motel. Dean hears it, digging through the glove box and pulling out an old flip phone. On the little digital screen flashes another Arkansas area code number, and he quickly answers.
Cas is leaning forward in the back seat, resting his arms on the front seat, looking at Dean with a perplexed expression as he listens to the one sided conversation. When Dean hangs up, he looks numb and shell-shocked for a long moment, just staring at the phone in his hand.
"Dean?" He urges gently in his gravelly tone.
"Mama… um. That was the executor of her will…" Dean turns, resting his arm along the seat to face Castiel. "Mama left the shop to Sammy and I. It's ours." He says in disbelief.
- - - - - - - - -
The shop isn't the same without her in it. A once fruitful and lively environment felt like a hollow and cold shell in her absence. It'd never be the same. The boys are all clearing out the live-in part of it, Mama's bedroom, kitchen, and small living area. Her personal belongings are all put in dusty moving boxes, and loaded into both the pickup and the Impala. Anything that didn't fit, like furniture, will be left behind.
Castiel runs his fingers over the glass case, looking at the different things inside. There aren't many humans he's formed a bond or fondness over, but Mama had been one of the few. He smiles, remembering her reading his palm, in total awe of his ethereal presence. And how she cared for the Winchesters… He missed her already. They all did. They've been cleaning up and sorting through the shop for days, Sam and Dean coming to the decision fairly quickly that they wouldn't be able to run it. They didn't have the time, the knowledge… it just wasn't going to work out. They did have a solution, however. One that the four of them all quickly agreed on.
Up rolls a yellow 1976 AMC Gremlin to the curb, bass audible as joyous music blasts from the modified speakers. Charlie steps inside, that same familiar bell over the door jingling, making the brothers smile.
"Hey guys!" She says with a bright smile, bounding up and giving them each a hug while speaking. "Woah, this place is sweet! Look at all of this!" She says in wonder, resting her hands on the display case, and then looking over the bookshelves.
"Yeah, Mama has quite the inventory in here. Helped a hell of a lot of hunter’s with this shop, too." He says thoughtfully.
Now was as good a time as any, so he tosses Sam a suggestive glance.
The younger brother clears his throat, standing a little straighter. "And it's yours now, Charlie. We're putting you in charge."
Charlie's eyes go wide, turning to look at the group as if they were nuts. "W-what? No, no I can't- I don't know enough-"
"You'll have help." Castiel interrupts her. "Rowena… I gave her a call, and she is more than happy to mentor you for as long as you need. Help you run it too, if you'd like. She knows ample about the things Marguerite sells here, and the services she provided. She can help."
Charlie still looks stunned, mouth opening and closing as she tries to find the words.
"You're the only person we thought of, the only one we trust to do this. Mama left it to us so the shop could still be around to help people, and not fall into the wrong hands. And we are entrusting that onto you, kid, because we know you'll thrive here." Dean says with an air of confidence, needing Charlie to hear and believe every word.
"Dudes…" She finally says in a soft whisper of disbelief. She was excited, she's never had anything like this for herself. She could actually help people, in a way that really appeals to her. "Thank you, guys." She says with a teary smile of joy.
Dean pulls her into his chest, laughing in a low husky tone before kissing the top of her head.
- - - - - - - - -
~Two Weeks Later, The Bunker~
Things are finally starting to feel normal again, starting to fall back into a rhythm of find a case, work the case, come home. Charlie has checked in a few times to give the boys status updates, and it sounds like her and Rowena are working in perfect synergy with one another.
It's one of those off-times where hunts are slow, whereas nothing new comes up, and any active cases are already scooped up by other hunters - calm before the storm, calm before they inevitably have to deal with Abaddon. For now, she's just a threat that hangs in the shadows, but Team Free Will knows all too well that it's only a matter of time before that festers, and comes to a head.
But for now, the day is theirs. That's a worry for another time.
The picture of Marguerite and Harvey on their wedding day hangs on the wall beside the TV, the two figures watching over the wayward family as they laugh on the couch, spending time together watching old westerns that Dean knew every line to. Sam pokes fun at him, Castiel has to correct the actual timeline of events according to reality - because he was thousands of years old he says he knows better, and Benny just shakes his head, soaking it in.
For once things felt okay - secure. The Winchesters felt safe with their place in this world for the first time in a long damn time. It was hard to see what the future held for now, but at the moment they were just happy in being. They were gonna be okay, and they were gonna be together. Saving people, hunting things - their legacy.