Thank you to Rocky Shackleton and The Best Guesst for your reviews!

Sorry it's been almost two months, but God damn, it's finale time motherfuckers. I can feel it. Part 1 of… 2?

When Dean was little, he had an imaginary friend. A tall, goofy man in a pinstripe suit and sneakers, who wore a toothy grin like nobody's business. And sure, maybe other kids had imaginary friends that were just as friendly and funny, but no one had one quite like Dean. This imaginary friend was unlike any other. He had a big blue box that had "POLICE" in big letters on the front. His police box was smaller on the outside than the inside, and it could go anywhere in the world – no, the universe! - even to the future!

His dad, John, insisted it wasn't true; there was no box, no time travel, no goofy man. He told little Dean to grow up and stop making up stories. But as young as he was, Dean knew that these were no stories. The hunting life made Dean question everything about the world, and he learned to trust just one thing: his own senses.

Dean Winchester, since the night his mother perished, only believed in what he could see with his own two eyes. That's why he knew that the Doctor must be real.

Throughout his chaotic, troubled life, Dean would see this imaginary friend a great deal of times, and would be brought a great deal of joy and adventure on each occasion. The first time he met the Doctor, Dean was just four years old, out shopping with his mother. The last time Dean saw the Doctor, he was 33 years old, and things were much different.

When the Doctor came this time around, the last time, the scene he walked into was not an uncommon one. Sam and Dean were arguing. About what? It wasn't important. Tensions were high ever since Dean had returned from Purgatory to find that his baby brother had never looked for him. Arguments were commonplace and poignant, but they were also short-lived. Soon, the brothers would be over whatever it was they were so passionate about just a few moments ago, and they could go back to their normal banter.

Not this time.

The Doctor always seemed to find the most inopportune moments to visit the boys. Sam would sometimes bitterly refer to him as a crazy in-law who loved to drop in unexpected, and Dean would playfully point out that at least you can hope to outlive your in-laws. The Doctor, not so much.

It was Sam's turn to yell when a knock came at their motel door. They expected it to be an angry neighbor who could hear their raised voices through the thin walls. Sam glared at Dean, and then walked to the door, putting on his most convincingly apologetic face. But when he opened the door, it was not a neighbor after all.

This version of the Doctor was younger than Sam had seen in a long time, and that was reinforced by the fact that a cute, bright-eyed Rose was standing right beside him. They both smiled kindly at him, but Sam knew he was not the one they were here to see. "Sam!" The Doctor exclaimed, throwing out his hand to shake. "It is Sam, right? You look – wow – you got so tall!" The last time the Doctor and Rose had seen Sam was when they ended up on a planet infested with Cybermen. He was collecting things for a grade school project. Now he was just… so, so tall.

"And you haven't aged a day," Sam joked, trying his best to be friendly. He shook the Doctors hand, and then Rose's. "Why don't you guys come in?"

Rose laughed, "Oh, we were planning on it!" They made their way into the room to meet Dean, who looked more than pleased to see them.

The Doctor and Rose were not oblivious to the tension in the air as they greeted the oldest Winchester. They had heard the yelling as they found the room, so they knew exactly what was going on. The Doctor had planned on doing something exciting with both brothers, since he felt bad about their last trip together. It had been a few months for him, and he certainly hadn't expected to get a call from Dean anytime soon. And then suddenly, out of the blue, the Doctor got a call from a gruff, middle aged man who, against all odds, seemed to be the same little boy the Doctor had met.

But now, with this argument putting a wall up between the brothers, the Doctor felt like he could do them both a real favor by not bringing Sam along. They both clearly needed their space, and maybe a break from each other for a few hours could make things a little easier when they returned. As they say, time heals all wounds, and the Doctor had nothing if not time on his side.

"So, Doc, you got any big plans this time around?" Dean sat back down on one of the beds, and Rose sat beside him.

The Doctor stayed standing and nodded. "I think I have a few things in mind. I wouldn't want to spoil the fun, though."

Rose rolled her eyes. "He only says that because he doesn't have a plan at all."

"Yeah, I figured."

The Doctor scoffed playfully. "Well aren't you two cynical! Have you no faith in me?"

"I've got plenty of faith in ya, Doc. I just don't believe you ever actually know what you're going to do up until the moment you do it."

Sam stayed near the closed door, leaning up against the wall. He watched them talk but he barely payed any attention. It wasn't like he didn't know exactly what was going to happen. Clearly Dean had called him earlier, hoping to get as far away from Sam as he could for a while. And Sam couldn't blame him, not after what he did.

So, he just stayed near the door, ready to open it for them as they left.

But then, something caught his attention.

"I just figured you could use a break, right Dean?" The Doctor's words echoed in Sam's head. Why did that sound so familiar? "I know you're probably up to all kinds of trouble, just like when you were a kid."

A break. A break? Why was that so important? Why was that the part of the sentence that got stuck in a loop in his mind. What was his brain trying so desperately to remember?

"You'll be reunited with you brother. And completely out of the blue, a younger version of me will show up at your doorstep." Suddenly a conversation he had a long time ago came back to him. It was a conversation that he had lost for a while when he got his soul back. But with the wall broken, there was nothing keeping him from it anymore. And, so, he remembered.

"You and Dean will be… arguing at that point. I can't tell you why, but tensions will be high between the two of you. I'm going to offer to give Dean a break."

"A break sounds pretty nice to me," Dean agreed, glancing over at Sam only briefly. "Things have been tense around here, lately, as I'm sure Sam will attest to."

"I'm thinking that I'm doing both of you a favor – giving both of you a break from each other while also being able to take Dean on a few adventures."

"I think we're going to have a great time, plan or no plan," Rose smiled, grabbing onto Dean's arm. "It's always an adventure with the Doctor – and you, too, actually!" All three of them laughed.

"But here's the thing; when I do that, you have to convince Dean not to go. Because if he agrees, and if he leaves with me, he will die." Words that he had not taken seriously the first time he heard them. But playing back now, nothing was more important than this warning.

This must have been the visit that the Doctor was referring to. His last visit. Sam looked at the Doctor now – he was so much younger than the version that warned him in the first place. It dawned on Sam just how long the Doctor had been keeping this secret to himself. The whole time, he knew.

That god damn son of a bitch knew all along. All the times that the Doctor took Dean under his wing and ran around the universe with him – taking him on crazy, life-changing adventures – he knew what the outcome was going to be. He had already seen the end of Dean. He knew how and when Dean was going to die, and it was all because of him.

And oh, God, did Sam want to kick and scream. This was exactly what he had always feared would happen. Ever since he found out about Dean's secret, he knew how it was going to end. It was why Sam was never keen on his brother going with the Time Lord in the first place. But nobody would listen to him. Nobody could see what he could see. Nobody could see just how right he was.

Yet, somehow, he wasn't angry. At the world, sure but, when wasn't he? Yet, he wasn't angry at the Doctor like he thought he should be. How could he not be fuming at the person who was responsible for his brother's premature death? Despite the facts, and his hotheaded-Winchester genes, in all honestly Sam felt bad for the Doctor. Looking at the Doctor's eyes now, full of excitement at what lie in front of him, all Sam could think about was how painful this secret must have been to keep. How much had it weighed him down over the years? How did it feel to look at a ten-year-old kid, so intelligent and full of life, and know exactly how his story ends? How do you stand being reminded that you played a part in his death, every time you saw him?

Sam wouldn't wish that suffering on anyone. Certainly not anyone who loved his brother as much as Sam did.

And the Doctor did love Dean, that much was clear. There was a bond between them so strong that only Dean and Sam's could possibly be stronger. Sam also knew what it was like to feel that kind of guilt towards someone you loved. When Dean was dragged to Hell right in front of his eyes, Sam knew he was to blame. It was all on him. And for that year afterwards, he tried over and over to get Dean back, to no avail. He imagined that the Doctor at least wanted to do the same.

Of course, the Doctor did try to stop it from happening. Maybe not right away, but eventually. Years ago, he broke his most important rule to tell Sam to not let his brother go. He did what Sam hadn't been able to do while Dean was in Hell, and what he chose not to do when he was in Purgatory: he found a way to save him. Now it was up to Sam to seal the deal.

"Hey, Sam, I'll be back in a couple hours. You don't mind, right?" Per usual, Dean was so sure of himself as he spoke that despite knowing the outcome, Sam almost believed him. Dean would be back in just a few hours. He promised. He'd be back. "I mean, it will be a bit longer for me, but you won't even notice I'm gone."

Oh, but Sam would notice. Every second that ticked by would weigh heavier and heavier on his chest. Each minute that passed would feel longer and longer than the last. Every hour that went by would feel like a lifetime. And then a few more would pass, and a few more after that. Until he knew for sure that Dean wouldn't be returning.

Sam wondered whether the Doctor would come back to him, after it all happened, to let him know. Like a police officer coming to the front door of a young wife's' house, hat in hand, to tell her that her husband had been killed in the line of duty. Or, maybe, if he was truly cowardly, he would just let Sam figure it out for himself.

Sam honestly didn't know which one sounded more likely.

"Dean…" Don't go. It seemed so easy to say in his head, but proved much more difficult to get out. Don't leave me. Not now. You don't know what I know.

He couldn't say it. He couldn't get it out. This wasn't his decision to make, was it? The Doctor had bent the rules to give him this knowledge, but he wasn't sure he should use it. It wasn't like the Winchester's hadn't fucked with the universe before, specifically to save each other. And Sam had a feeling the Doctor wasn't so innocent on that front either.

But over and over again, they regretted it. And the one who was saved was never happy he was. Maybe they had cheated Death too many times. Maybe they had lived too long.

So instead of telling him not to go, instead of insisting he stay and work things out with his brother first, instead of telling him what he knew, Sam walked over to his big brother and wrapped his arms around him.

If he was saying a final goodbye, he was going to make it a good one.

He could feel Dean pause in surprise beneath him, but after a few seconds Dean reciprocated, patting his back. "Hey, Sammy, what's wrong?"

Sam let his head lay on Dean's shoulder. "Nothing, just... be safe." He released Dean, trying to hide the fact that he was tearing up. This was it, huh? This was the last of Dean?

Dean looked torn. They had been at each other's throats just minutes ago, but that was before Sam looked so hurt. As much as he wanted to just go, he couldn't leave Sam like this. "Sam... do you want me to stay? I won't go if you don't want me to."

Sam glanced at the Doctor, who genuinely did not know what was going on. "I... I can't make your decisions for you, Dean. I'm fine. Go where you want to go."

Dean pulled away, brushing off his shirt. He took a few moments to consider, but ultimately, he made the decision that he was destined to make - that he was always going to make. "Alright, Sam. I'll be back soon." He turned back to the Doctor, whose eyes were bright and naive. "You ready, Doc?"

"As ever. I think we're going to have a lot of fun." They left the motel room, and Sam just sat at the table, eyes looking down at the floor. He had no clue how long he sat there, but at some point, there was a knock at the door. His heart raced.

"Dean?" He launched out of his seat, knocking over the chair in the process. He ran to the door and struggled clumsily with the lock for a few seconds before managing to get the door open. Before it was even fully out of the way, Sam knew it wasn't him.

Instead it was the Doctor, again. Not the same one that had taken Dean with him, but the one who had told him about all of this in the first place. The pained expression on his face told Sam he already knew what Sam had done. Sam didn't say anything. He just went back to the table. The Doctor followed behind, closing the door before sitting down beside him.

"I don't blame you for not listening to me, Sam. I really don't."

"It just seemed wrong. To fuck with time like that... to rewrite what's already happened? I've messed up enough as it is. I didn't want to add this to the list." The words hurt coming out of Sam's mouth, even though he truly believed them. He was desperately trying to make amends with his decision to not act.

The Doctor slumped back in his chair, looking down at his hands. "I'm very sorry about your brother. I... I never keep companions for long. I'm reckless, and I'm too used to my immorality. Sometimes I'm too excited about an adventure that I forget about the risks."

"You're not unlike Dean in that," Sam sighed. "Reckless, that is. But... he knew what he was getting into. At this point he more than knew the risks. I used to think that it would be your fault if something happened to him... but it's no one's fault.

The pair sat in an uncomfortable silence for a while. Neither knew exactly what to say. Finally, the Doctor asked, "What will you do now?"

Sam shrugged. "I don't know... our work isn't done, so I guess I'll continue that. But assuming I live through that... no clue."

"Maybe this is bad of me to say, but I'll say it anyway. When you're through with your work... you are welcome to join me sometime. "

Sam let out a small laugh, shaking his head. "Thanks, Doctor, but I think I'm good. Thank you for... well, everything, I guess."

"There's no reason to thank me," the Doctor replied, honestly. "Stay safe, Sam."

"You too."

And then, to both of their surprise, there was a knock at the door.

Sam's heart came to a dead stop. He turned to the Doctor. "Is that… is that you? Coming to tell me what happened?"

The Doctor's raised brow and widened eyes gave away his answer. "No, I… I waited a week to tell you. It was… a poor decision on my part, but I thought it was better at the time."

Sam stood from the table and grabbed a gun from the duffle bag on the floor. He released the safety, and crept towards the door. Whoever it was knocked again, this time harder. Gun raised and ready to go, Sam peered through the peep hole.

"Who is it?" The Doctor stood, hands on his hips as he awaited Sam's response. Maybe it was just a neighbor, or a pizza delivery guy with the wrong address. Maybe it was nothing to concern themselves with. But this was the Winchesters you were talking about. When there is a knock at their door, it is always something.

"Oh my God," Sam's whole body froze for a moment, causing him to almost lose his grip and drop a fully loaded gun to the ground. "Oh my God."

"What, Sam? Who is it?"

Finally able to move, Sam turned the knob and threw open the door. "Dean?" He lowered the gun and stared in disbelief at his older brother, who was as alive as ever. "What are you… what are you doing here?"

Dean, completely oblivious to everything that had just happened and everything that was supposed to happen, took Sam's surprise to be about how quickly he had returned, not about how he had returned at all. "Look, man, we started to go, and I just… I couldn't. Not with the way we had left things. It didn't feel right. So, I came back to get you. I figured if we both got out of this stupid, shitty motel, and did something other than hunt down some murderous ghost or Leviathan, or whatever-the-hell, that it would be good for us. So, come on, pack a bag with all your girly shampoos or whatever, okay? I'm not askin' here, I… I…" Dean trailed off as his eyes travelled past Sam to the other man in the room. "Wh-what's going on here?"

The Doctor smiled sheepishly, giving a small wave. "Well, hello there, Dean."

"Doctor? What the fuck is going on?"