Sam stood, leaning against the edge of the picture window of his tiny kitchen, propping his sacked out son against his shoulder.
Hulsu had been running around like an unholy terror all morning, much to Dean’s amusement. Apparently, karma was a bitch – and letting Dean be in charge of breakfast when Molly was out running errands was a stupid, idiotic, idea. Sam mentally added Lucky Charms to the list of things that Hulsu must never, ever, eat again.
Sam really hadn’t expected to ever be a father - the Demon and his personal curse might be long gone, but that still didn’t make him exactly a safe proposition for a woman to hook up with. The phone call from a girl named Rainbow – a girl he’d hooked up with, Dean-style, when he was so fucked up he could barely think and who he could barely remember - had come out of the blue. This broken woman asking him to come pick up his son before she went into rehab. Bile rose in his throat when he remembered the circumstances that Rainbow and Hulsu had been living in.
Even the worst place that Dad had dumped them hadn’t compared to the stinky little hole where the Winchester they’d never known had lived for almost two years.
It was Dean’s wife who had carried Hulsu Winchester screaming, away from his mom while Dean had practically carried Sam. Sam was perversely grateful for the heartbreaking sounds his son had made, happy that it seemed as if Hulsu had at least been loved. And it was Molly who had protested when Sam suggested taking his son and moving into their own place. We’re a family now, she had said. One more Winchester will never change that. Sam and Hulsu had not only stayed in the big white farmhouse, they ended up with their own ‘suite’ after Dean separated off nearly half the building and gave it its own front door – and an internal one so Sam could raid Molly’s kitchen and Dean could still feel he was taking care of his little brother.
It was finally over; all the running and fighting and hiding and death.
Molly came into view from around the side of the house and he raised his hand in a tired salute to her. Sam was worried about her; she looked pale and tired. She’d told Dean about her heart condition very early in their relationship and, while cardiomyopathy didn’t need to be fatal, it was still a big deal.
She went over to join Dean where he was working on her gazebo and Sam felt a fleeting stab of guilt – he should really have been helping his brother, getting the garden ready before the summer storms hit - but he didn’t think Dean would hold it against him that he wanted to spend the time with Hulsu. He couldn’t help but smile at Dean’s reaction when he saw his dark-haired girl-next-door, the cook whose chicken pot pie had finally tamed him.
When Molly started speaking to Dean, his big brother’s face lit up, and Sam found himself squeezing Hulsu tightly enough for his son to make a protesting squawk when Dean’s hand fell to Molly’s stomach and he hugged her, with tears he’d be bound to deny later rolling down his cheeks.
So maybe it wasn’t exactly what Sam had been looking for all his life, but it was definitely what he wanted.
Home, family, happiness.