A/N: Alright. I know I haven’t been here. I’m sorry! Life has been…crazy. Anyway. Here’s that epilogue I’ve been promising. May not have also been writing another…from a very different scenario.
Dean glared at you, any friendliness you’d seen in his eyes long gone. “You swore an oath to this country. Now you have a duty to perform. It’s time for you to hold up your end.”
You leveled the gun at him. “Fucking. Do. It. Now.”
He brought his wrist up, speaking into the communicator hidden in his watch. “All clear in here. Standby.” there was a long pause. “They’ll never stop looking for you.”
“Baby girl,” Sam turned on the charm, and found a gun in his face. “This is how you make it up to me. Resolve our trust problem. C’mon, baby. I love you. You know that.”
Sam. Dean. Sam. Dean. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
You took a breath and aimed, hating yourself for closing your eyes as you fired off a single round.
There was a moment of stillness, as if the world stopped spinning altogether, and you had to look. Your eyes opened, though your vision was blurry with hot tears. Guilt twisted in your gut, heavy and slimy like a damn snake when Dean let out a final breath and was still, blood pooling under his fallen body and spreading over the floor.
“Holy…” Sam breathed the word, and you knew he had been expecting the shot for him. “Y/N,”
You turned the gun on him next, but had no intention of shooting him unless he attacked you. Wary eyes watched him get to his feet, your hands shaking so badly you were surprised you were still holding the gun.
“Baby…” Sam came closer to you, approaching cautiously. Like you could blame him. “Just…gimme the gun, Y/N. It’s over. We have to go.”
You shook your head, tears falling freely but silently down your cheeks now. You had no words, really. For what you’d done. You were a fugitive. You’d be at the top of the most wanted lists, right there with Sam.
Sam got the gun from you with no resistance, wiped yours and his prints from it, and tossed it onto the couch, taking your shaking hand in his own and brushing your knuckles over his lips. Just like he had done so many times over the past year. “C’mon. We’re leaving. We can’t ever come back here.”
You followed, barely daring to breathe. You knew Sam would have contacts. A way out of here. A getaway plan. Now you just had to trust that he wouldn’t turn on you. Had to hope you had earned his trust back like he said you would.
You and Sam hadn’t ever spoken about Dean’s death. He had taken you to Brazil, where there was no extradition, where you both lived in what he called a modest house. For you it was nearly a mansion. Of course he had money stashed away. He was a planner, after all. You’d become fluent in Portuguese, though it was more out of necessity rather than want.
He held you at an arm’s length for a while, which hurt and infuriated you all at once. Hadn’t you proven to him that you were loyal? That he’d flipped you to the dark side? But now wasn’t the time to fight about it.
It was three months before you had the courage to bring up Dean, to test his temper towards the situation. His answer had come immediately.
‘If I didn’t trust and love you we wouldn’t be here.’
After that he refused to hear you say anything about it, going so far as leaving to make you get the point, and returning anywhere from a few hours to a full day later.
You still remembered the last fight you had, where he tried to leave when you brought it up yet again.
‘Don’t you dare walk out on me Sam! God I’m so sick of this! I’m constantly picking and choosing what to say, what to do! It’s fucking exhausting!’
‘And you think this is some kind of goddamned picnic for me or what?’ he had shot back at you, fury blazing in his eyes. ‘You’re- you’re different now! And god I’m trying to make sure that you’re okay with what you’ve done, because I’ve killed good people, Y/N! The guilt doesn’t ever go away!’
‘Then why didn’t you ever ask me?’ It was a simple enough question. One you knew the answer to.
‘Because I don’t want to talk about it! Make you relive it! You think I didn’t hear you cry yourself to sleep for weeks after? Then you had nightmares…I’m no good with that kind of shit, Y/N! So I thought it best to leave it alone…I’m sorry.’
You wiped impatiently at your eyes, but more angry tears spilled over. ‘I just…I love you. And I want us. Want it to be the way it was before.’ all the fight had gone out of you, and you caved, moving to Sam and putting your arms around his middle until he held you. ‘I don’t regret what I did. I swear. I just wanna know that you feel the same about me as you always have.’
He was quiet for a long few seconds, but you refused to move away, to let him leave you again. He finally let out a heavy sigh and lifted your chin until you were looking at him. ‘Of course I feel the same. You wanna know where I go? When I leave here?’ when you didn’t respond he went on. ‘I go sit down the street, at that disgusting bar on the corner. And I decide if you haven’t left by the time I’m back…then you’re here for good.’
You blinked, sending more tears down your cheeks that he wiped away gently. ‘You’re stuck with me, kid. Until one of us kicks it.’ he ducked his head, lips meeting yours in a hesitant kiss. All you could think about was the first time he ever kissed you, in the back of his SUV, possessive and demanding, hands grabbing at your body anywhere they could reach. This kiss was the complete opposite. He was so gentle, as if afraid you would break, hands resting on your hips.
A needy moan sounded off in your throat, hands sliding around his waist and gripping the front of his t shirt. A small tug from you towards the bedroom was all it took for him to scoop you up and start walking that way.
“Y/N?” Sam poked your shoulder gently, rousing you from your memories. “You okay baby? Kinda lost you for a minute.”
“Yeah, sorry. I’m good. Really good.” you beamed over at him from behind your sunglasses, the sound of water hitting the beach making you turn your head. “You’re okay?”
“Obviously,” he lifted your entwined hands, lips brushing your knuckles. “Was just thinkin’ about somethings.”
“Oh yeah? Like what?” you shifted in your beach chair, uncrossing your legs to switch them around before recrossing them.
“Like…” before you knew it he had rolled off of his chair, hitting his knees in the sand next to you and pulling a small box from his pocket. “Like whether or not you would like to be Mrs. Winchester.” the box popped open and your eyes landed on a ring, an oval sapphire surrounded by smaller diamonds situated on a delicate looking silver band.
You squeaked, unable to help it, and took the box from him. “Are you-you’re serious? Yes! Yes of course Sam!” You threw your arms around his neck, hugging him tight as he laughed in your ear.
“Alright, princess. You got it.” he pulled away and took the box from you, sliding the ring onto your finger. Just like everything else he’d ever bought you; it fit like a damn glove. “I love you, Y/N. Can’t imagine my life without you in it. We’re gonna be so happy, I can feel it.”
You only smiled back, leaning forward to kiss him, because you didn’t need to speak. You could feel it too.
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