Epilogue

I have never been to Heaven, or Hell.

I'm very confused by my surroundings when I open my eyes. I'm not in a comfy bed, I'm actually on a cold tile flooring. Nothing hurts, though that's not right. I know I should be hurting. I look down at my outfit. I'm garbed in all white, not a spot of red anywhere to be seen.

As I blink the goop away, I begin to have a cold sensation run through me. This looks like a hospital hallway. An empty one, but one nevertheless. I take my time to get on my feet. I do a full three-sixty. No staff, no patients, just open doorways and a silent hallway. Must be nighttime, I think.

Inhaling through my nose, I pad down the hall, peeking into the rooms. On the fifth room, I stop.

Something's beginning to make sense. Why I landed out in a hospital hallway instead of the bed my body is laying in.

There's very dim lighting in the room, the heart monitor beeps slowly. I watch in fright as I step into the room. I look horrible, maybe just as bad as Dean had. Where is he? But he...died there, at the warehouse. Then I remember: he's still in the Impala, hopefully not discovered by prying eyes. Sam wouldn't have taken him inside since there was no chance of revival. I guess there is for me.

But judging by my comatose state on the bed, the chance seems to be slipping.

I take my slow time, my eyes don't leave my body. The last thing I remember is Dean dying in Sam's arms, and then him trying to juggle carrying Dean and making sure I stayed alive and awake. I remember Sam's near two car accidents while he kept telling me to stay alive. I remember him barging into the hospital, screaming for help, carrying my body in with him. I remember his desperate attempts to follow me and the nurses back, but they'd stopped him.

I watch the monitor, watch the green lines spike with my faint heartbeat. I'm still hanging on. Barely. I swallow and touch my hand. I pull back once I see my fingers slip through. Well, nobody ever said trying to recover like this is easy. Nothing's ever easy when you're a Winchester anyway. That's something I've learned since I was old enough to understand.

I flinch and turn my head at the sound of a shuffle. Sam's still hanging around. I guess between me and Dean, he'd rather be near his older sister who's still kicking than his older brother whose long dead.

"Oh, Sammy," I whisper. "I'm so sorry. I should have stayed with you. This would only be half as bad if I had just stayed..." I bite my lip. "Damn Dean and his protective nature. This would have ended differently if he'd just let us help." I run a hand through my hair. "And now look what's happened. He's gone, and I'm on the fence."

"You don't have to be."

I spin around. "Who the hell are you?"

This guy can't look much older than me. He's dressed fairly well, and it makes me think he's from the FBI or CIA or something. But that's not possible if I'm out of my body.

"Easy." He puts his hands out. "I've come to help you."

"I don't need help." I cross my arms.

"You can't go back." He nods towards my body.

"So, this is real? This isn't some coma-induced thinking?"

"No, no coma. You never had the chance to have one."

"Then what do you call this?" I gesture to my body, and the heart monitor.

"Your body is in a coma, yes, but not you. You're out of your body."

"Thanks, genius, I could have put that together myself. I still need to know why you're here." I start to back up to protect Sam.

"I'm not here for him, like I told you," he says softly. "I'm here for you."

"What do you want?"

"You're in limbo right now, Josette."

I stiffen. "I don't like that you know my name."

"Your name has reached interesting networks since you rejoined your brothers."

I exhale through my nose. "It's unfair to not know your name."

"Baxter," he tells me.

I cock my head. "Doesn't suit you, but I guess that doesn't matter." I shrug. "So, what brings you here?"

"You," he says a little pointedly. "Whether you realize it or not, you're only barely holding onto life. Surely by now you must realize that it's pointless to do so."

I narrow my eyes. "No, I can still recover."

"Josette, look at the position you're in. You're out of your body. Like I told you, there's no going back."

"N-no, you're lying," I snap. "There's a way. I can't just leave my brother like this. He's lost enough. He needs me. He just got me back, and I'm not going to have him lose me again." I hold back tears. "Please, you've got to help me back into my body."

"I can't."

"What do you mean you can't?"

"That'd defeat the whole purpose of me being a reaper."

I take a wary step back. "A...a reaper? As in...?" I look at my body.

In all my emotion, I couldn't see the truth. Now, I do. I'm on my deathbed, literally it looks like. I'm only hanging on by a thread, just like Sam is probably hanging onto a thread of hope that I'll pull through. I can't leave him. I promised I wouldn't leave again.

"No...no, it's not my time!" I shout, looking at Baxter.

"Things happen for a reason."

"Don't go philosophical on me!" I jab a finger in his direction. "I'm not leaving him!"

"Josette," Baxter says gently, "you need to understand the pain you're putting him through by doing this. Look at him." He gestures to Sam. "He's tired. He's a tough man, he'll get past it."

"You don't know shit about my brother," I snarl. "How dare you find the audacity to say anything about him!"

"Okay, that may have been a boundary breaker," Baxter admits. "But wouldn't it be easier to relieve him of his suffering? Yes, he'll grieve, everyone does. But imagine the torture this will inflict on him the longer you try and hold on."

"But I swore..." I choke out a sob.

"You've done all that you can, Josette." I slap his hand the minute it touches my shoulder. "It's time to let go and say goodbye."

I look down at Sam. Every fiber in my body wants to stay for him. I'm all he has left since Dean is gone. I can't let him be the lone Winchester. He needs someone. Cas isn't the same as Dean or myself. Sam needs family.

I walk to my brother and try to put my fingers through his hair. I sniff. I remember before I ran off, Dean and I had made a pact: if something happened to him, I was to watch over Sam. And now that this circumstance has rose, I have little chance of doing that. I'll abandoning my baby brother all over again.

But I also remember something else: a secret promise I told only myself before I ran away from my brothers and my dad. If I was killed on a hunt, or by a supernatural creature of some sort, I'd want to stay dead. I wouldn't want to be brought back from the dead. I wanted a one and done. Back when Gadreel had been an enemy to us, he'd tried to use that to turn us Winchesters against each other.

Do I still want that now when I want to remain here and watch over Sam?

Do what you want, not what Sam wants. Not what Dean would have wanted. Not even what Cas would have wanted. It's your life, your choice. You said one and done. It looks like it'll happen. Baxter's right; you're barely hanging on. It's gonna hurt to let go, but it's got to be done. Maybe we can find a way to watch over Sam.

My thoughts bring up a question to Baxter: "Where am I going?" I look at him.

"Do you want me to spoil the surprise?" he teases me quietly.

"It might ease the goodbye a little," I admit.

Baxter nods. "Well, where do you think you're going?"

I roll my eyes. "Don't make this difficult."

"Nothing is ever easy, Josette. Make peace, and then we'll go."

"C-can you disappear for a minute or two, so I have privacy?"

"Of course."

I cry quietly to myself for a long minute and look at my brother through teary eyes. This is the hardest thing I've ever done. And the worst part is Sam will never hear me, never know why I decided to leave. Maybe he'll figure it out one day, he's always been intelligent. It's one of the things I admire most about my baby brother.

"I-I know I'm not good with this stuff, must be a Winchester thing," I choke out. "But I can't put you through any more pain, Sammy. Life has done that enough, I don't want to contribute an ounce more. I don't want to do this, so I hope that, in some weird way, this makes you better, even stronger. You and Dean are the two strongest people I've ever met. And I wish I could have told you both that sooner."

I wipe my eyes. "I'll try and find a way to watch over you, Sammy. Maybe I'll find Dean where I'm going. At least I'll know somebody there. Maybe I'll find Dad, or Mom." I squeak out a pathetic laugh. There's a good chance I can land in either Heaven or Hell. Like most, I'm banking on Heaven. "I hope you find Cas, and I hope you both stick together. You're all you've got now." I blink out some tears. "I hope to God I don't find either of you where I'm going."

Cas. Cas, Cas, Cas. We'll never have that discussion. At least the last time we saw each other didn't end badly. It ended on a confusing note, but a good one.

I'll see you soon.

I gasp as I feel my heart start to tighten. I might end up in a hospital bed where I'm going with Baxter.

"Are you ready?"

I turn slightly to see Baxter in the doorway, his hand out for me. I wipe the last of the tears from my face, and I slowly reach for my reaper's hand.

"It's not gonna hurt, is it?" I ask. "Moving to wherever I'm going?"

"It won't," he assures me. His hand is extremely cold. I look back over at Sam one last time. "Don't worry about anything, Josette. You'll be in good hands. After all, we've been waiting a long time to get a hold of you." There's something off in Baxter's voice.

"What?"

The moment I turn my head back to Baxter, I know I've been tricked. Granted, he's probably still a reaper, but last I checked, only demons have black, soulless eyes.

Baxter's smile shines as dark as his eyes do. I can't pull my hand out of his grip now; it's like we're glued together.

"No, no!" I screech. I begin to twist around towards Sam.

At the same time, the heart monitor that's attached to my body flat lines. Sam jolts awake, screaming for help. Baxter's grip keeps me from reaching out to Sam, even though I know he won't feel it. My brother pushes against the doctors and the nurses who are trying to bring me back.

"No!" I yell, although the only one who can hear me is Baxter. I watch as Sam gets forced out of the room, trying to be calmed by the nurses. He's in hysterics and almost looks about ready to barge back into the room to try and help a lost cause. "Sam! Sam!"

Baxter's laugh sends chills through me. "You're Hell's now."

**So...um, a bit of a rough ending, I know.

Hold back those holy oils and holy waters. And frying pans. And angel blades. And demon blades. Please, I'm like you. This was not an easy task for me. But, as I discovered Josette's character, it took a rather...interesting turn. Which led into this rather somber, painful ending.

Please continue to the final author's note of this book, and try not to sell your souls to have me killed because of Jo's fate, angels.**