They stayed at Pastor Jim's for a little over a month. Dean was unimpressed with going to church on Sundays, but Sam insisted that if they were going to both get redeemed to get into Heaven, it wouldn't kill Dean to try to learn more about the other side of the coin from the human perspective.

Dean seemed to have quite an interest in tinkering with the Impala's engine and John enthusiastically showed Dean how to work on the car, change the fluids, spark plugs, belts, just about everything. Sam encouraged it. He had no talent under the hood. Okay, maybe he just had no interest, never had, in learning about working on cars.

They all decided Dean and Sam going back to Bobby's while it was still in rubble would bring back too many bad memories, but Bobby promised to look for Dean's knives. Going back to school wasn't what Sam wanted any more either. He wanted to make absolutely certain Dean made it into Heaven. That meant hunting evil and helping people and he decided he was okay with that.

"Son," John said to Sam, "are you sure about this?"

"Yeah. Dad, I know you said you're dealing with me and Dean being together but do you really want to be hearing us next door every night?" He smirked at the grimace he saw flit across his father's face. "I think it's best if we work our own jobs and maybe get together every month or two or something. Hell, take some vacations, because Dean needs to get to know you as much as you need to get to know him. Besides, the demon who killed Mom is dead. You've earned the right to kick back now and again. And don't give me that crap about evil not waiting. It'll always be there and you taking a few days to spend with me and Dean won't make a difference. Sometimes weeks go by without any real jobs and you know it."

John raked his ringers through his hair. "Okay. We'll figure it out, I guess. You got everything you need?"

Sam smiled. "You stocked us up pretty good on weapons. I think we'll be okay."

"He's going to miss Rumsfeld," John said, looking over at his eldest who was leaning against the door of the Impala, wearing John's old leather jacket. He had insisted Dean take it, along with some of the tapes they had been listening too while working on the car.

"Not as much as you might think," Sam said as Bobby pulled up in his car. "Did you get it?" he yelled to Bobby as he headed toward him.

"Yer nuts boy, you know that?" Bobby yelled back.

"Maybe." When he reached the car, Sam opened the passenger's side door and a young gangly dog, somewhat on the thin side, probably six months old and one that looked like it was part German Shepherd, tumbled out of the car. Sam took hold of the leash. It seemed a little scared and looked around, cowering. Sam tugged gently on the leash. "C'mon boy, you're not on death row any more. You have a home."

The dog hesitantly walked forward, still looking around, its tail drooping. Sam walked up to Dean and handed him the dog's leash. "He's yours. I don't know how it'll work, us being on the road hunting, but if it doesn't work, we can find him a home somewhere."

They were leaving.

It had been a little strange to Dean at first staying in one place so long… at least, a place that wasn’t filled with demons, where he was tortured and locked in a cell for weeks at a time. It had been difficult at first, but now that they were leaving, somehow he felt even stranger. He wasn’t sure what he was feeling. It was an odd mix of emotions he couldn’t really name.

He was filled with a strange kind of… regret… knowing he wouldn’t see his dad, Bobby, Pastor Jim, or Rumsfeld every day anymore for a while. He’d never had a home, not like this, but a part of him had started to think of this place as “home”.

But at the same he was more than ready to leave, because he had never stayed in one place for so long before. He was restless. His life had not prepared him for sitting around and doing nothing from day to day. He had been taught to be a hunter… a killer… that was what he was now, and would always be. He could not change that, and if he tried to deny that part of him, he knew he would eventually go mad.

Dean knew, of course, that things would always be different than the life he’d once led. The fact that he would now be hunting demons and other evil creatures that he had once considered masters, or allies, only the beginning. Dean was more than prepared to learn how to survive in this strange new world he had to live in now, however.

He glanced over at Sam talking to their dad and smiled. For Sam, he would do anything. While Dean had never really cared before where his soul ended up, in heaven or hell, for Sam he would try to “redeem” himself, as his brother put it. If for no other reason because he never wanted to be separated from the younger man again. Not in life, or death.

Rumsfeld came back with the ball Dean had thrown for him, and Dean threw it again. Smiling at the animal as it chased after the soggy tennis ball. Yes, he was going to miss it here.

He turned his attention back to Sam, watching as Bobby’s car pulled up. They’d been waiting for the older hunter to return, but Dean didn’t know why. Dean’s eyes widened a little as he watched the young dog jump out of the car and Sam led the animal over to him.

His?

Dean slowly knelt down in front of the skittish animal and held out his hand. The dog hesitated at first but then inched closer to sniff at him. Its tail beginning to wag a little. Rumsfeld returned then with his tennis ball, dropping it in front of Dean, and the two dogs sniffed at each other curiously for a couple of moments. Dean picked up the tennis ball and stood, seeing him do so Rumsfeld began wagging his tail excitedly. The new dog began wagging its tail more vigorously, sensing the older dogs excitement. Dean threw the ball and both dogs happily took off after it, barking together.

“I think it will work out.” Dean said, turning to Sam with a grin.