Sam stood across the street, staring at the house he knew his brother was now in. He fingered the amulet his brother had lost faith in. The one he had secretly salvaged from the trash, so many months ago.

The young man sighed softly, thinking of a different time.

He wondered if Dean would be here, in a different life.

Sam shook his head and walked over to the sleek black impala. That car was about forty-three years old now. It had been his home. The vehicle was more than just a car; she had been through everything with the Winchester family; their parent's deaths, and the brother's births, deaths, and subsequent resurrections, and through what they had thought would be the end.

He walked over to his former home and slipped inside the passenger side.

Sitting on the seat, he could smell everything that spoke Dean. It was a faint scent of tobacco from the bars he frequented, dirt, aftershave, and strangely enough the dim whiff of ripe apples.

Sam hummed a line his brother could never stop singing, when they were younger , while he slipped the charm on the center mirror of the car.

'Carry on my wayward son…'

"There'll be peace when you are done," sang the voice of……God.

'It's so weird thinking of God as a booze and women hound, that he took the form of such......... loser,' Sam thought.

"I heard that," Chuck said, but he was smiling, "C'mon Sammy, let's go. We have some work to do."

Sam nodded, he was ready for …… heaven. Evidently God had more work for him, and this time he was the opposite of tainted.

And it was odd, thinking of him self this way, and having grace.

He took one more look at the house, smiling at the thought of his brother; then the newest angel disappeared.

An hour later Dean Winchester was ordered by is new fiancé to go and get ice cream, specifically huckleberry. He had no idea where to find that. Then to get onions, women were weird when they get pregnant.

He was going to name the child Samantha John or Samuel Mary. Though he wanted to switch the last names, both Ben and Lisa wanted it that way. He knew at least he would name them after his little brother.

As he slid into his current baby he frowned, smelling lemon grass, ginger, and strawberries. An odd combination, and he only knew of one person who smelled like that.

'Sam.'

His eyes widened as he took in what was hanging from the mirror, and after a moment he smiled. He didn't know how he escaped, or why Sam didn't come to him, but he did know his Sammy was alive; he would see him one day.

The soon to be father slipped the talisman from the mirror.

Placing it on once more his neck he belted out a familiar tune,

"CARRY ON MY WAYWARD SON, THERE'LL BE PEACE WHEN YOU ARE DONE!"