Sam knew hunters didn't die of old age.

He'd always known how his father was going to go. He knew how Dean was going to go.

And now, he knew how he was going to go.

Sam hung his head as he and Dean stepped back from the pyre where his father lay. If he'd been there, if he hadn't run off and left his family . . .

There was no point in if-only's. Sam couldn't change what had happened. He could only be there for his remaining family in the future.

Not that he had a choice. Now that they had an idea of what Lionel was doing, what he was capable of and what he was willing to do, there was no way Sam could go back to college. He couldn't leave Dean and Lex and Clark to deal with the fallout, and he couldn't put Jess in danger by going back to her.

A week ago, Sam had started looking at engagement rings. Now, he had to figure out how to break up with the girl he loved, probably over the phone.

There was a gust of wind, then Clark appeared beside them, dressed in black. "I'm sorry," he said. "Rough day with Ellie."

Dean didn't say anything, still staring at the pyre, but Sam gave him a nod. "It's okay, Clark. We appreciate you being here."

"Is Lex coming?"

"He should be on his way."

A black limo pulled up in the clearing a minute later, and Lex got out of the car. Somehow, he looked as awful as Sam felt, like he hadn't slept in days—though the fight had been only the day before.

"Is Chloe okay?" Clark asked as soon as he got out of the car.

"She's . . ." Lex stared at Clark a long moment, then he lowered his head. "Ah. Recovering. Those demon bastards hit her in the head."

Something about the way Lex said it gave Sam pause, but Clark's face turned pale.

Lex frowned at him. "What?"

"I . . . I went to save her. I didn't want her to know my secret . . ."

Sam had never heard Lex sound more dangerous: "Clark, what did you do?"

"I knocked her out. Then I heard gunshots, and I didn't get to come back."

"The hell, Clark!" Lex shouted.

"I was trying to help!"

"You can't go around knocking people out!"

"It's not safe for people to know about me, Lex. For me or for them."

"She already knew, Clark."

Silence reigned for a moment.

Then Clark exploded: "You told her?"

"She figured it out. It wasn't hard. You're a terrible liar."

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"You didn't tell me?"

"She wasn't hurting you. But you hurt her. And even if she didn't know—"

"SHUT UP."

Sam flinched and looked over at Dean.

Dean shook his head. "Next person who tries to pick a fight at my father's funeral, I will break your nose. Don't care if I have to go find Kryptonite to do it. You hear me?"

Lex and Clark were silent.

Dean slowly stepped forward and cleared his throat. "Dad . . . you taught me everything I know. Made us strong, kept us safe—" His voice cracked, and his head fell.

Sam stepped to stand beside him. He didn't dare touch his brother; he kept his eyes on the pyre. "I'm sorry, Dad. I wasn't there. And you . . . you did the best you could . . ." Sam felt his eyes watering.

Clark came to stand beside Sam, putting a hand on his arm. "I never really got to meet you, Mr. Winchester, but . . . you raised two of the best men I've ever known. So you must have been a pretty good man."

Lex spoke from behind them. "John, if I see you in hell someday, I'm gonna punch you in the jaw." He sighed, and he stepped up to stand beside Dean. "But then I'm gonna grab a beer with you. I bet you've got some great stories."

Sam half smiled at that.

Dean stepped right up to the pyre, whispered a watery, "Good bye, Dad," and lit the whole thing on fire.

For a long moment, they just stood in silence, watching the body burn, until Sam couldn't anymore. He squeezed his eyes shut. He might have known how hunters were supposed to go, but some part of him must have believed the old man was invincible. That he would always be there. It was so hard to believe he was truly gone.

When the weight of the moment had grown unbearable, Dean coughed a couple of times and straightened up. "So. Lionel Luthor."

"I still don't understand what he was doing," Clark said.

"From what we were able to figure out," Sam said, "he was baiting hunters and manipulating them into working with him."

"But what did he want?"

"Human souls," Dean said.

"Why?" Clark asked.

"I'm guessing they're some sort of supernatural currency." Dean shook his head.

But Lex nodded. "That's exactly what they are. It explains why he can afford to have demons working for him and witches doing his spell work."

"It's going to catch up with him eventually," Sam said. "I mean, messing with the supernatural, making deals with monsters, taking advantage of dark magic? I've never seen anyone survive that."

"My father isn't anyone."

Sam shivered.

"There's one thing I don't get," Dean said. "My dad was smart, he had good instincts. But . . . Lex, he wasn't smarter than your dad."

"I know," Lex said softly.

"So why wasn't he sucked in like the other hunters? How'd he figure out what your dad was doing? What, did your dad get sloppy?"

"It might have been by design. My father may have left a few bread crumbs, perceptible only to the brightest of hunters. He wouldn't have wanted to recruit anyone smart enough to figure out what he was up to, down the line. Better to do away with them before they had the chance to tell others."

Dean scoffed. "You're saying he let my dad figure out what was going on, then killed him when he did?"

"I wish I had another explanation."

Dean shook his head.

Sam let his breath out, and he finally asked the question he didn't want to ask. "So what now? He wants all of us dead."

"No, he doesn't," Lex said.

Dean looked up at him. "You weren't there. He told his demons to finish us all off."

Lex took a deep breath. "My father does his homework. He'll figure out we're connected with each other, and now he's seen Clark use his powers. We're far too valuable. He's not going to kill us; he's going to try to use us."

"We'll be ready," Sam said, with far more confidence than he felt. "Lex, any research you and Chloe have done . . . we need to all be on the same page. And . . . we need to be in contact with each other, we have to be ready when he comes back."

"It could be months or years," Lex said. "My father is known to play the long game."

"Okay." Sam shrugged.

Dean looked up at him. "You're not going back to Stanford?"

Sam swallowed. "I don't think I have that option anymore."

"It's not forever," Lex assured him. "We just have to find a way to take him out."

Sam didn't speak. He knew how these things went. Their father had spent his life searching for the yellow-eyed demon. Sam didn't know if Dean would continue seeking him out, or if he would turn his attention entirely toward Lionel, but either way, there was bound to be fallout. More deaths to avenge along the way.

The hunter life was forever. He'd been an idiot to think he had really gotten out.

"Well . . . we should warn Chloe." Clark grimaced. "Now that she . . . knows my secret. And, uh, Lex, your father might try to use her, too, since she works with you."

"I'll warn her," Lex said, in that voice that said he was keeping something from them.

Sam waited for him to say more, but he didn't.