In the end, they die by fire. A Wendigo broke into their cabin, and the flare gun caught the house alight. Dean didn't wake Sam. He pulled his brother into his arms and breathed deeply.

(And isn't it ironic, they die like children in their beds.)

The angels have all gone. There remains only God, with a voice like the crease between Sam's eyes and a love as comforting as an old leather jacket.

He brings them home, nurses their hurts. He shows them the love of their mother, strong like a lioness, and the love of their friends, tenacious and seeking approval like a beloved terrier.

With infinite gentleness he completes the scraps of love they received from their father on earth, washes away the striking hands and raised voices.

He gives them Heaven, and watches those two hunters become little boys playing in a sand box. One by one, their loved ones returned, bringing children, spouses, friends, filling the air with laughter and joy.

He smiles. His children are complete. His family is home.

A/N: Title from Luke 23:46 'Then Jesus, calling out with a loud voice, said, "Father, into your hands I commit my spirit!" And having said this he breathed his last.'