Epilogue

Bobby was researching a case for an acquaintance when his phone interrupted. He gratefully closed the book and answered, already up and out of his seat for the first time in hours. His legs practically creaked.

"Ellen," he greeted, walking into his kitchen.

"Hey, Bobby," she replied, her voice a welcome sound. "Just checking up on you guys, wanted to see how you're doing."

"Well, I'm still old and tired, thanks for asking," Bobby said. He knew what she meant, though, so he didn't keep her waiting long. "He's doing great."

Bobby lifted a finger and pulled his curtains aside to glance out. He could see Dean out in the salvage yard working on the engine of an old truck. After some prompting from Bobby, Dean had cleaned up the place to make room for a repair shop they could run together. The kid did all the work, but still. The two of them had argued for a while about changing the sign to the yard. They both agreed that 'Singer and Winchester Auto Repair' was too long, but neither knew what to suggest. In the end, they just changed the sign to say 'Singer Auto Repair.' Bobby never suggested what he really wanted, which was to add 'and Son' after his own name. He was afraid Dean would say no.

"That's good to hear," Ellen said. "The last time I talked on the phone with him he sounded like he was doing well. He really loves it there."

"Yeah, it's nice to have someone around here to help out," Bobby said, turning away from the window.

"You can say you love having him there, too, you know," she said. He could hear her smile through the phone.

"Where's the fun in that?"

It had been almost six months since Bobby brought Dean to his home from the hospital. Things were rough at first, but everyone had expected that. The kid was jumpy and restless, and he took what seemed like forever to heal. But, eventually, his bandages came off and his stitches came out, and he could walk around good as new. Apart from a faint white scar running down the side of his cheek, Dean was physically fine.

Bobby wasn't necessarily worried about his physical health, though. The kid was still young, so he could bounce back from that. He was more worried about the psychological impact John had made on his son. It took him two months and the collective effort of himself, Sam, and Ellen to convince Dean to go into counseling. Reluctantly, he went, and Bobby swore on his life that had been the best thing for him. He could see the therapy sessions in the way Dean stopped hunching his shoulders while he shuffled quietly around the house, and the way he started to laugh again in the way that made his eyes crinkle at the sides.

The doctor helped him learn how to open up more, too, apparently. In bits and pieces, Dean let Bobby know more about what his dad did to him throughout the years. It was painful to hear, but he was glad the kid could finally get it off his chest. And with every story, Bobby was more and more glad that bastard was dead.

Dean easily forgave Sam for shooting their dad, but no one was surprised by that. The two became close again without John to keep them apart, and Sam even came up to visit his brother every once in a while. One weekend, Dean asked Bobby to help him tell Sam more about what happened to him, so Bobby sat beside Dean, pressing a comforting hand onto his back while he talked about a few things their dad had done, and in particular about his rape. Sam was shocked, but Bobby could tell it made Dean feel better to let him know. Probably something his therapist had suggested.

Now, months later, Dean was like a brand new person. He was happy and healthy, and Bobby very rarely saw the pain he had seen in Dean's eyes while he was with John. Plus, he really did love having him around.

"Alright, well, I'll let you go, then," Ellen said. "See you guys this weekend."

"See you, Ellen," Bobby said, hanging up the phone. After glancing out the window once more, he sighed and went back to his desk to start researching again.

Dean shut the hood of the truck he was working on and wiped the grease off his hands with an already-dirty towel. The sound of tires on Bobby's dirt road caught his attention, and he turned in time to see the ugliest goddamn car he had ever seen drive through the entrance to the yard. A gold car straight from the pimp-era of the 70s rolled up beside him, and Dean fought the urge to laugh at it. Instead, he walked up beside the car, tossing the towel over his shoulder.

The window rolled down to reveal a man probably in his thirties with disheveled hair and bright blue eyes. Dean paused for a second, his heart skipping a beat. He had definitely been expecting an old guy, not… Well, not that. The man leaned out the window, squinting through the sunlight.

"You work for Singer's Auto Repair?" he asked, his voice deep and kind. Dean swallowed hard, nodding.

"Uh, yeah," he said, his voice only cracking a little. Dean stepped away from the car door as it swung open to let him out. A well-dressed man with a crooked tie got out, shutting the car door behind him. He was taller than expected, but his demeanor was anything but overbearing. "Dean Winchester," he greeted, holding out a hand. The man took his hand and smiled, creases appearing beside his eyes.

"Castiel Novak," he said. Dean hung on to his hand just a second too long, his eyes lingering a bit, before he cleared his throat and turned to the car.

"So what seems to be the problem?" he asked, making his way to the front.

"The engine keeps whining whenever I go anything over 50," he explained, opening the hood of the car.

"I can't imagine this snazzy ride giving you any trouble," Dean said sarcastically, sifting around for the problem. He couldn't help himself, this car was a piece of work, to say the least.

"Hey, I'll have you know this car is a classic," he argued.

"Oh, is that what you're calling it?"

Castiel laughed, the sound sending a shiver through Dean. "It's a great car!" He gestured to it, as if looking it over again would suddenly make it better.

"Yeah, of course it's great," Dean nodded, "for the elderly."

Castiel sputtered for a moment before shaking his head in surrender. While he wasn't watching, Dean could look over his features in more detail. The guy's taste in vehicles was shit, but he had the face of an angel.

"You've just got a missing part," Dean explained, shutting the hood and wiping his hands on his pants, leaving faint grease stains over his thighs. "I can order it and have it here by Monday, so you can come by then and I'll install it."

"I can't just install it myself?"

"No offense, buddy, but if your choice of vehicle says anything, it's that you know nothing about cars," Dean said, grinning. Truth was, the guy could probably install it himself with ease; it wouldn't be hard. He just really wanted him to come by the yard again.

"I'm never gonna live that down, am I?" Castiel shook his head. They walked to the side of the car again.

"Can I get your number?" Dean asked, and when Castiel looked at him in shock, he quickly added, "In case the part is going to come later. So I can call you and let you know. Not for… personal use." Dean felt his face turn red, and he wanted to bury his head in the dirt.

Castiel mouthed "Ooh," and reached into a pocket in his coat. He pulled out a business card, but turned it over and wrote on the back before handing it to Dean. "My work phone is on the front, but if you can't reach me there, I wrote in my cell phone."

Dean turned the card over and saw that the man had signed his name at the bottom as 'Cas.' Castiel got back into his car and started it up. Before he left, he leaned out the window again, catching Dean's attention.

"Oh, and I wouldn't mind if you used my number for… personal use." He smiled one more time and drove off, leaving Dean to stand alone in the yard, his heart pounding.

"Cas," he tried out the name, a smile spreading over his face. Dean stuffed the card into his pocket and went back to work on another car. His face still felt hot, but not with embarrassment anymore.

Things were definitely starting to look up for him.

Notes: So there we have it! Only took me 3 years... awkward...

I hope everyone liked this story as much as I liked writing it. Thank you so much for reading :)