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aterimber · 2 years ago

Text

If I Know Anything

Started: 21.09.04

Finished: 21.09.27

Words: 4,053

SPN x Marvel, C2C

Description: Loki boots Thor into the Supernatural universe. Written for the Hellhound Gazette Issue #3, which had a theme of 'Marvel crossover'.

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Thor stumbled down Rainbow Bridge, thunderous chuckle echoing as he failed to keep up with his brother, “What a glorious night!”

Loki turned around, pretending to finish off his drink as he continued walking, “You certainly didn’t hold back in celebrating.”

Thor tipped the last of his ale into his mouth, gently tossing the now-empty stein over the edge of the bridge, “And why should I? Mother’s birthday coming on the heels of defeating the Ice Giants deserves to be celebrated!”

Loki suppressed a sigh, “Yes, brother, but maybe next time, you’ll save some ale for everyone else.” While maintaining eye contact, he casually chucked his stein into the water.

Thor sidled up to the edge of the bridge, watching as the mug skipped over the water a good few feet passed Thor’s sinking one. He turned back to his brother, waving a dismissive hand, “Pfft, you used your magic!”

Loki gave his brother a pointed look, “I wouldn’t waste my magic on just you, Odinson.” He watched as his own stein finally sank, “Why?” He cocked an eyebrow, hint of a smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth, “Did that surpass you?”

The blonde gave a half-shrug, walking a few steps away from the edge with a chuckle, “I was merely discarding it!” He clapped his brother on the shoulder, “If we had more drinks, I could best you!”

Loki did his best to hide his disgust as Thor let out an echoing burp, “Careful with your words, brother,” he walked a few feet ahead again, “your little mortals aren’t here to assist you this time.” He turned as he reached the mouth of the Bifrost room, “Meaning, you can’t cower behind that green giant’s strength.”

“I am the mighty Thor,” the blonde stifled a burp, “… of Asgard!” He puffed out his chest, as he closed the distance, “I don’t require their aid in beating you, Loki.”

Loki took a step into the Bifrost room, “How about a challenge, then?”

The God of Mischief flourished his hand, a long table filled with brimming steins of ale appearing.

Thor stumbled into the mouth of the room, “Wait,” his brows furrowed in slight confusion, “This is why we came all the way out here?” At the nod, he chuckled, gesturing back to the bridge, “We could’ve held this competition anywhere! We didn’t have to leave the festivities.”

Loki resisted the urge to roll his eyes, “Don’t tell me you’re too drunk to remember what Mother made us swear this morning?”

“Of course not, brother. I was merely…” Thor stifled another burp, “making sure all this fresh air didn’t go to your head.”

Loki gave his brother a tight smile, “My free time in your charge is almost up.” He took a few steps passed Heimdall’s perch, “I just wanted to take in the view,” he flourished his hand again, making distance markers appear leading out of the Bifrost into space, “and,” he turned back to the blonde, gesturing with his other hand, “have some fun with my brother.”

Thor chuckled as he made his way over, nearly tripping over his own feet as he clapped him on the shoulder again, “If beating you is how you wish to spend your remaining free time, who am I to contest?”

Loki took a few steps back toward the table, picking up the closest stein. He raised it to his lips, finishing it off before staggering back over to his brother. He chucked the stein into space, satisfied smirk on his face as it easily sailed passed the first five markers, “Who said you’ll beat me?”

Thor gave his brother a sideways look, “No magic?” At the nod, he sidled up to the table himself, inspecting one of the mugs, “Perhaps they’re not truly filled with ale.”

“Or perhaps, the mighty Thor is stalling?”

Thor chuckled again as he picked up a glass, “Why would I want to stall your defeat?” He chugged the contents of the stein down, before whipping it out into space, watching with a triumphant smile as it sailed passed seven markers.

Loki watched his brother play with his illusion from Heimdall’s perch, mildly amused, the mighty Thor of Asgard bested by an illusion. Again. He looked out over Rainbow Bridge, smile tugging at the corner of his mouth as the sun was just starting to rise, finally. He turned Hofund, Bifrost whirring to life.

He could see Thor stop, confused eyes roaming over the room, “… Do you hear that?”

His illusion chuckled as it tossed another stein into space, making it to the tenth marker, “The sound of me beating you, you mean? Yes, it’s quite lovely.”

Thor didn’t look convinced, but chucked another glass, anyway. With the Bifrost on, Loki made his way to where his brother stood – too close to the edge for someone so drunk – and finally let the illusion fade away. His brother turned around, eyes widening in surprise as he was nose to nose with his brother.

Loki shook his head, “Will you ever not fall for that?” Before the blonde could answer, Loki pushed him backward.

Thor lost his balance, tripping over the edge of the Bifrost, “Loki!”

Loki watched in satisfaction as his brother fell, so much for- He cut himself off as he noticed his brother’s outstretched hand, sprinting back to Heimdall’s perch, oh no you don’t. He reached Hofund just as his brother’s hammer went whizzing passed his head.

He turned the sword, shutting the Bifrost off, just as Mjolnir disappeared into the portal, damn!

Dean stifled a yawn as he slid into the small kitchen table seat, setting his homemade burger down in front of him. He inhaled deeply, just as his stomach let out a loud grumble, no better breakfast. He picked up the burger, bringing it to his mouth, finally-

In the next instant, the kitchen was bathed in a too-bright white light, much to the blonde’s dismay. “Oh, come on!”

He shielded his eyes from the flash, hearing a loud crash before the light disappeared. He lowered his arm from his eyes slowly, looking around the kitchen in apprehension, it’s way too early to deal with angels.

His jaw dropped as he saw the massive hole in the kitchen floor, what the…? He got up from the table, peering over the edge. He saw it went through the sub-basement, right down to the garage, where a large man wearing a cape was laying, unconsciously, on top of his car.

“Sam!” Dean raced down to the garage, small pit forming in his stomach as he saw the Impala, “Oh, no, no, no!” He walked a small circle around his crushed baby, anger beginning to build up inside him. He glared at the passed out man, just as Sam came in behind him, “You better be dead, angel.”

Sam came to a skidded stop, eyes wide as he saw his brother, the smushed Impala, and the guy lying on top of it, “What happened?”

“Baby was killed by this Ken doll with wings because he can’t control his mojo!”

Sam shook his head in disbelief as he took a few steps closer, eyeing the guy lying on the car. His brows furrowed as he saw the armor and red cape, “… Are you sure he’s an angel?”

Dean shrugged, “Came in with the usual white light and screeching.” He eyed the dented roof, running a hand through his hair, “This is gonna take forever to hammer back out!”

“Why’s he dressed like that?”

The blonde rolled his eyes, “I don’t know, Sam, maybe he got bored of business suits.” His shoulders deflated as he looked over the damage, “Y’know, I parked her inside to keep her safe.”

“Safe… from the rain?” The giant tried to stifle his chuckle as the blonde nodded solemnly. He clapped his brother on the shoulder, “Well, at least now you have something to do today.”

“I guess…” Dean scrubbed a hand down his face, eyes going back to the caped stranger, “Anytime you want to wake up and mojo her back to mint condition, be my guest.” At the lack of movement, Dean smacked his shoulder, “Hey!”

Sam took a step closer, “Maybe he’s injured?”

Dean raised an eyebrow, “You think he zapped himself into unconsciousness?”

The giant shrugged, “Maybe. If he was wounded beforehand and zapped himself to safety…”

Dean scanned the body, “I don’t see a wound.” He lifted one arm up, letting it fall from his grip. It crashed right back onto the car’s roof. “Great, this is just what we need.” Dean picked up his arm again, dragging him off the car. He backed up a few steps as his body rolled off the roof, landing on the ground with a loud thud.

“Dude!”

“What?” Dean kicked the still-not moving body, “You think that fall’s gonna hurt him?”

Sam rolled his eyes, bending down to inspect the body, “He’s still in a person, Dean.”

“Yeah, well, he broke Baby, so he’s lucky I don’t just light him up right now.”

Sam straightened back up, cautious expression on his face, “You need to calm down. You’ve rebuilt her from worse.”

“But still-”

“Why don’t you call Cas and see what he has to say? Maybe he knows him.”

“Maybe…” Dean cast his gaze back to the car. He flicked his eyes back up when he heard footsteps, “Wait, where are you going?”

Sam paused in the doorway, raising an eyebrow, “Jody’s ghost hunt?”

“Right…” He looked longingly back at the car, “You’re not gonna-”

“No, Dean, I’m not gonna need your help taking down a kid ghost.” He rolled his eyes, “I’ll be back later.”

With that, the blonde was alone.

He scrubbed a hand down his face, eyes sliding off the car to the passed out angel, “Cas, one of your brother’s totaled Baby. So if you could get down here and fix her before I decide to fry off his wings as penance-”

“I’m here, Dean.”

The blonde turned at the voice that came from behind him, “Thank Chuck.” He pointed to the wrecked car, “Fix her. Now.”

Cas tilted his head as he took in the car’s damage, “An angel did this?”

Dean kicked the guy’s boot in irritation, “You are the only good one.”

He cast his gaze to the man laying on the floor, brows furrowing, “He’s not an angel.”

“What?” Dean looked at the man, too, “Well what is he?”

Cas walked over, crouching down to place a hand on the man’s leg. He closed his eyes for a moment, brows pulling together further in puzzlement, “Not human…”

The blonde rolled his eyes, “Yeah, I figured he wasn’t when he came blasting through the ceiling.”

“… How’d he get here?”

“I was just about to eat breakfast, when he came crashing through the ceiling of the bunker, with a white light and screeching.” Dean pointed to the giant hole above them, “He fell right through the floors.”

Cas starred at the hole a minute before straightening back up, shaking his head, “He’s not of this world.”

“Seriously?”

Cas nodded, pointing to the hole, “Look. It goes all the way through the top of the bunker.”

Dean starred up the hole, noticing the blue sky at the top, before bringing his eyes back down to the angel, “Wait, are you saying he fell out of the sky?”

“It seems so.” Cas looked back over the body, shaking his head, “He’s more powerful than any creature I’ve seen.”

“Great,” Dean scrubbed a hand down his face, “I take it that means you can’t wake him up, either?”

The raven-haired man outstretched his hand again, holding it over the body a moment before shaking his head, “Apparently not.”

“Awesome.” Dean clapped his hands before picking up one of the guy’s arms, “Guess that means we’re waiting until he wakes up.” He grunted as he dragged the body a few inches, before raising an eyebrow at Cas, “Come on, man, do I seriously need to ask?”

Cas blinked, shaking his head after a moment, “Sorry.” He picked up the man’s legs, helping the hunter walk him toward the garage door, raising an eyebrow, “Where are we taking him?”

Dean adjusted his grip under the guys’ arms, “The only place fit for someone who wrecked my car: the dungeon.”

Dean startled awake, groaning as he straightened back up in his chair, what the…? He jumped up from his chair as he saw the man in the cape standing with his back to him, eyes on the ceiling. “Heimdall! I’m over here!” He walked a few staggered steps to the left, foot knocking over the broken chains, “Heimdall!” He let out a loud sigh after a moment and lowered his head, “Why can’t he hear me?”

Dean took a few cautious steps toward him, reaching to his hip for his not-there gun, crap.

The movement got the caped invader to turn around. He took a few steps closer, gesturing to the room, “What realm is this?”

“Realm?” Dean’s brows furrowed in confusion, “What do you mean, ‘realm’? You’re on Earth, dumbass.” He gave the invader a once over, “How do you not know where you zapped yourself to?”

The invader shook his head slowly, bringing a hand up to the side of his head, “I did not ‘zap’ myself anywhere. My brother, Loki, pushed me into the Bifrost.” He took a few steps forward, scrubbing a hand down his face, “I summoned Mjolnir, but I was through the Bifrost before it reached me.” He straightened up, eyes wildly looking around the room, “Maybe, it’s here.”

Dean’s brows furrowed in confusion, “Mull-what?”

The invader rolled his eyes, “Mjolnir.” He outstretched his hand, “If I have any hope of returning to Asgard, I’ll need my hammer.”

“Wait, wait, wait,” Dean held up a hand, raising an eyebrow, “You did all this for a hammer?”

The caped man huffed, “There’s no time to explain, mortal.” He pushed the blonde to one side, striding towards the door, “I need to-”

The invader cut off the end of his sentence, as he felt a tug on his cape. His brows furrowed and he turned around, just in time to see the blonde wind up for a punch.

Dean’s fist connected with his face, instant bolt of pain shooting up his arm, “Fuck!” He immediately recoiled, shaking out his hand, “Son of a bitch!”

The invader’s face lit up, “This is no time for games, mortal! We must-” He cut himself off as his stomach grumbled. He chuckled and leaned in slightly, “Is there any food?”

Dean shook his head in disbelief, who the fuck is this guy? He led the way toward the door after a moment, “How do you feel about burgers?”

Sam entered the bunker with a huff, leaning a moment on the railing, I can never tell Dean how hard that was. He made his way down the stairs, leaning heavier than usual against the railing.

He blew out a breath as he started toward his room, thank God my shower’s fixed. He slowed as he neared the kitchen, hearing laughter. He poked his head in, eyebrows rising in surprise as he spotted Dean, who was seated at the kitchen table, across from the caped invader. What the…? Sam walked a few steps into the kitchen, noting the mess of dirty plates stacked precariously to the side, and the half-finished burger sitting on his brother’s plate.

He looked between the chuckling men and cleared his throat, “Uh… Dean?”

“Sam!” Dean beamed at his brother, waving him over, “You’ve gotta see this!”

Sam cautiously approached the table, “Oh?”

Dean looked back at his new friend, who was now standing, nearly giddy, “Do it, do it, do it!” The caped man shoved his entire burger into his mouth, picking up a napkin from the table to wipe his hands. Dean smacked Sam’s arm frantically, “That’s the sixth one he’s done that to!”

Sam nodded politely, “Cool.”

“Yeah, cool!” Dean took a swig from his beer, “He’s friggin’ Scooby-Do-ing them!”

The caped man couldn’t help but beam with pride at the blonde’s childlike giddiness. He held out a hand to the giant, “I am Thor Odinson, of Asgard.”

Sam was startled by the sudden rumble of thunder, but took his hand nonetheless, “Hi.” He turned to his brother, “Dean can I uh, talk to you for a second?”

Dean’s smile slid off his face as he took in his brother’s expression, “Uh, yeah.” He got up from the table, giving his new friend a tight smile, “Give us a second.”

Thor nodded, reaching for the closest beer as the brother’s moved a few feet away.

Sam raised an eyebrow, “He said his name was Thor?”

“Yep.”

“As in, Thor-Thor?”

“Yep.”

“And you didn’t find that, I don’t know, weird?”

Dean shrugged, “What do you think, I’m an idiot?” He lowered his voice, “I gave him every test I could think of when he was out, and he passed. All of them.”

Sam huffed, shifting his weight as his eyes flicked back to the caped man, who was just finishing off the beer in his hand, “Well, what did Cas say?”

The blonde shrugged again, “He said he’s not from here.”

“Well, I still don’t know if-”

Sam cut himself off as Thor came up, clapping both of them on the shoulder, “My hunger has been satiated by your brother’s culinary expertise! But now I must continue my quest to find my hammer.”

Sam raised an eyebrow, “Mjolnir?”

Dean rolled his eyes as Thor nodded at the giant’s pronunciation, “Yes, exactly. Have you seen it?”

Sam shook his head, “No, sorry.”

Dean smiled, returning the shoulder clap, “But, we can help you look for it.”

He ignored Sam’s Bitch Face Forty-Three as Thor shook his head, “No, no. You’ve done enough.”

“Pfft, please!” Dean waved a hand, steering the God out of the kitchen, “If you think we’re gonna let you do the least dangerous hunt alone, you’re crazy.”

Thor’s brows furrowed, “How dangerous could hunting animals be?”

Dean shot a look over his shoulder to Sam, raising an eyebrow in silent question. At the giant’s nod, he turned back to face the God, patting his shoulder as they arrived at the desk in the front room. Dean took a seat, and gestured for him to do the same, “We don’t exactly hunt animals.”

Thor chuckled, “Well, what else is there to hunt in this realm?”

“Monsters.”

Thor stopped walking, and raised an eyebrow at the blonde, “What are you talking about? Between the armies of Asgard and the Avengers, there shouldn’t be anything left!”

Dean shot a look over his shoulder at his brother, raising an eyebrow in silent question. At the nod, he turned back, gesturing to a chair at the front room table, “Let’s have a talk, bud.”

Thor pulled out the chair, confusion setting on to his face, “Okay…”

Dean sat across from him as Sam sat at the head of the table. They exchanged another look as the blonde folded his hands on top of the table, “Vampires, ghosts, demons, angels, shifters, werewolves, zombies, ghouls, Levia-”

“No!” Thor jumped up from his seat, punching the table in anger, “How did that many things appear so quickly? I was just here fighting the Chitauri army in New York!”

The brothers exchanged another look, and Sam pulled out his laptop, “You were here a year ago?”

Thor nodded, “Yes. In New York, with the Avengers.”

There was a tense moment of silence while Sam typed into his computer. After a minute, he spun the laptop around, eyes going to the now-angry God, “There’s no record of any attack on New York, or any signs that you were here.”

Thor grabbed the machine off the table, bringing it closer to his face, “That’s impossible!” His eyes darted around the screen wildly for a moment, before a loud crunch was heard. He blinked in surprise, looking down at the now-destroyed pieces of laptop in his hands. He placed the two halves gently on the table, sliding them back over toward the giant, “Sorry.”

“Eh,” Dean waved a dismissive hand, “Sam needed a new one, anyway.”

Thor started pacing, “This doesn’t make any sense! How can there be no record of my last visit?”

“If it makes you feel any better,” Dean kicked his legs up onto the table, leaning back in his chair, “we stopped two Apocalypses and nobody noticed, so…”

Thor nodded slowly, “Maybe S.H.E.I.L.D. erased the footage. Although,” he stopped pacing, small smile on his face, “If Stark had any say in the matter, there’d at least be one video left.”

Sam tilted his head to the side slightly as he starred up at the God, “Wait… you said S.H.E.I.L.D.? Like, from the com-”

“I must be on a different Earth.” The God shook his head, pounding a fist back on the table, “Loki!” He huffed in anger, “That must be why Heimdall can’t find me.” He started toward the stairs leading up to the front door, “I need Mjolnir!”

“Whoa!” Dean and Sam raced to catch the God. Dean raised an eyebrow, “And how exactly are you planning on finding it?”

Thor shrugged, “If it made it through the Bifrost, I should be able to summon it.”

“Oh, right, totally.” Dean rolled his eyes as the God disappeared through the front door. He leaned in to Sam and raised an eyebrow, “Maybe rolling off the car did do some damage.”

Sam shook his head as they made their way through the front door, shielding their eyes from the too-bright sun. They spotted the God standing in the middle of the dirt road, hand outstretched. They looked around, and, upon not seeing anything, approached the God with caution.

Dean took an extra few steps toward him, “Hey, uh, you okay there, buddy?”

Thor huffed, wiggling his fingers in annoyance, “It usually doesn’t take this long.”

“Uh, Dean?” Sam took a cautious step toward his brother as he saw something barreling down the road.

“What?” The blonde turned to look back, jumping as something big went whizzing passed his head, “Whoa!”

They looked to the God, who caught the item easily. He raised his now-filled hand over his head, spinning what looked to be a hammer, as dark clouds began to form. Bolts of lighting went flashing through the clouds, before they parted, sheet rain beginning to pour down on top of the three men. Thor raised his head to the sky as lightening bolts struck the ground around him, “Heimdall!”

The brothers stood awestruck, not bothering to wipe the rain out of their faces as they watched the display.

Thor’s eyes searched the sky as the lightening stopped, “Heimdall?” He lowered his arm as nothing else happened, and lowered his eyes back to the boys, “I thought for sure he’d see that.”

Dean sputtered wordlessly for moment, before shrugging, “Maybe he wasn’t watching?”

Thor chuckled and shook his head, “Heimdall sees everything.”

Sam took a small step forward, so he was standing beside his brother, “Then maybe that’s the problem?”

The God seemed to consider this for a moment before nodding, “Perhaps.” He noticed the looks on the boy’s faces and flashed them a reassuring smile, “Don’t worry. I’ll come back and help you with the monster threat. Earth will be safe, once again.”

Just then, a blinding white cylindrical light blasted down from the sky, right over Thor. He chuckled, eyes rising to the sky once more, “Finally!”

Just as quickly as it had come, the light was gone, along with the God. The brothers starred at the now-empty space for a moment in stunned silence. Dean wiped some rain out of his face and turned to look at his brother, who looked just as confused as the blonde felt.

Sam starred at the burned squiggles that were now smoldering in the ground, “D-do you think he could’ve actually been…?”

Dean shrugged, “He said he was.”

“Yeah, right.” Sam rolled his eyes, “Cause monsters never lie.”

“Well, if he was,” Dean turned, leading the way back toward the bunker, “we’ve got a lot of movies to catch up on.”

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foreverwayward · 5 years ago

Text

“Wayward Hearts” Season 4 Chapter 1: Lazarus Rising Part 1

Masterlist

Word Count: 7.5k+

Content Warning: angst, language, violence

DISCLAIMER: any words or phrases in bold in the story are not my own and are credited to the writers of Supernatural.

**GIFS ARE NOT MY OWN**

Torment, agony, suffering; the only words Dean Winchester knew anymore. The taste of iron destroyed his senses and filled his nose. Dean was drowning in his own blood as it filled his aching throat. Unimaginable and blinding pain ripped him apart from the inside out.

And suddenly...it all stopped.

In complete darkness, Dean gasped for air. His lungs burned briefly as life returned to them once more, his heart jolting back to life.

Disoriented and scared, Dean breathed heavily, unsure what form of torture awaited him next. He was lying down, his arms close at his sides.

As he tried to move, Dean realized he was trapped. The hunter’s instincts immediately kicked in and he reached into his pocket to search for something to help. His hand felt cool metal and he grasped it, knowing exactly what it was.

He flicked his lighter open and the flame sparked alive. Dean’s ragged breathing continued as he looked around only to find himself in a wooden coffin. His newly revived heart pumped in his chest and echoed in his ears. Dean trembled, his weak muscles aching at any movement.

“Help!” Dean tried to call out. His is voice too hoarse to make much noise at all and he coughed at the strain. “Help! ...help!” he cried faintly. As he panted, Dean knew no one was coming.

With what little strength he had, the hunter began to pound on the pine above his head, causing bits of dirt to rain down on his face. Dean had only one option...up.

His weak hand gripped at one of the wooden planks above him. Grunting and straining, he finally ripped the panel off as an avalanche of earth filled the coffin.

In the middle of a grassy field, a simple wooden cross was planted. It was completely still in that corner of the world as a desperate hand burst out of the dirt, followed by another. It took all Dean had in him to begin to force his way out of the grave.

As his soil-covered head found the surface, Dean gasped out for oxygen. The humid, warm air was a shock to his senses. He groaned out, his face scrunching in fatigue and pain as he pulled the rest of his body from the coffin and out of the ground.

Finally free, Dean fell onto his back in the tall grass, his chest rising and falling out of control. He closed his eyes as the sun warmed his skin and the hunter fought to steady his breathing.

Shakily, he forced himself to stand and his eyes squinted as they adjusted to the glaring light of the world around him.

As he looked around, Dean found himself standing beside his own grave in the center of what looked like ground zero of a powerful blast. Around his crude headstone was a large, perfect circle of dead forest trees lying on the ground with even their roots ripped up from the dirt.

Dean was back, but what ripped him from Hell? What unspeakable evil escaped with him?

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Through the hazy, wet heat, Dean walked down an empty road. He wiped his sweating brow against his forearm with his button-up shirt tied around his waist. Dean was still weak, and every mile felt longer than the last.

As he continued on, the pavement led him to an old gas station; the first sign of civilization in what felt like a lifetime. It was small with a single phone booth out front, two gas pumps and an abandoned car.

Once at the door, Dean knocked on the glass over the sign reading ‘CLOSED’.

“Hello?” he tried to call out in a raspy and tired voice. When no one answered, Dean rolled up his outer shirt over his right hand before breaking the glass on the door. The shards shattered into the quiet gas station and the hunter quickly unlocked the bolt to rush inside.

The cooler in the back called to him as he fumbled towards it. Flinging the refrigerator door open, Dean’s eager hand snatched a water bottle and forced the cap off, letting it clatter to the floor. Desperate, he gulped down the water feeling his body sigh. He gasped at the final guzzle and leaned against the fridge to steady himself.

He turned to look around him and noticed a stack of newspapers and took the top bundle. As he studied it, the ‘Pontiac Daily Gazette’ was dated for Thursday, September 18, 2008.

“September…” Dean read to himself, taken aback.

There was a sink and mirror tucked in the back of the humble gas station. Dean turned on the faucet of the dingy sink, splashing cool water on his dirty, sweaty face. Using his outer shirt again, he dried himself off and exhaled out as he leaned against the worn porcelain.

Dean stared up at his reflection with curiosity. He lifted his fitted black t-shirt, unnerved at what he might find as he exposed his chest.

Awful memories flashed through his mind as he remembered the night the Hellhounds had ripped his body into pieces. The pain of his death felt so fresh that he could have sworn that he could still feel the demon dog’s claws in his skin.

But, to his surprise, Dean looked at his unblemished, unscarred chest in that faded gas station mirror. He turned his left shoulder to the glass and pulled up his sleeve, wincing at the burning pain. Dean revealed a large, raw handprint burned into his flesh.

He knew something had brought him out of Hell and nervously imagined what awful thing had the power to do so.

Dean glanced around again and grabbed a plastic bag. Hungrily, he tore into an energy bar and practically moaned at the taste of food once more. Dean’s eager hands collected more bars along with several bottles of water and stashed them in his bag.

Stopping in front of a magazine stand, he grinned slowly for the first time. On the stand was an adult magazine-- ‘Busty Asian Beauties’. Dean picked it up and smirked as he briefly flipped through the pages before stuffing it into his cash of finds.

At the counter, he set down his goods and hit a single button on the register. It immediately popped open with a ‘ding’ and the hunter snapped his fingers in satisfaction.

As he looted the cash, the TV to his left flickered on, only showing static. Dean shut it off, only for the radio to his right to turn on with a loud white noise.

Not wasting a moment, he scurried to another stocked shelf nearby and grabbed a carton of salt. Dean quickly opened it and began to pour a line of salt along the windowsill.

A high-pitched single tone began and he clutched his left ear in pain as he continued to set a barrier. As it continued, Dean dropped the salt and crouched to the floor, groaning in absolute agony as his hearing was pierced by the sound.

The window above his head shattered at the deafening noise as it raged on. Explosions of glass surrounded Dean until he threw himself away from the windows, landing hard on the ground. Covering his face as best he could, he waited out the phenomenon that held him at its mercy.

As the final small pieces of glass trickled down around him, Dean peered up anxiously. His knuckles were bleeding, his head pounding, and the pain of his ears had him checking for blood. Dean cautiously stood up once more as he looked out the destroyed front windows that had been completely blown out.

That was when Dean grew even more concerned. Whatever had pulled him out, may now be hunting him.

Dean’s pockets jingled with coins as he fisted his hand in to grab money for the phone booth. He paid the machine as fast as possible, dying to hear a voice on the other end.

He dialed a number and only heard an alert tone.

“We're sorry. You have reached a number that has been disconnected.”

Hanging up, he tried another number he knew.

“We're sorry. You have reached a number that has been disconnected.”

Frustrated, he hung up again and attempted a third call. It rang once before it was answered.

An annoyed but familiar and gruff voice spoke. “Yeah?”

The first person he had heard since coming back made Dean’s heart leap. “Bobby?”

“Yeah?”

“It's me.”

“Who's ‘me’?”

“Dean,” he replied earnestly.

A dial tone sounded and Dean looked at the phone, confused. He hung up the receiver and dialed the same number.

“Who the fuck is this?” Bobby asked angrily.

Almost pleading, Dean told him, “Bobby, listen to me.”

“This ain't funny. ...call again, I'll fuckin’ kill ya.”

The tone sounded again and a defeated Dean hung up the phone.

He turned to see the old, beat-up white car parked outside. It was then that the hunter’s eyes lit up with a gleam of hope.

Moving as fast as he could, Dean effortlessly hotwired the car as the engine sputtered to a start. He immediately hopped in and was ready to hit the road.

The car kicked up dirt behind it as Dean peeled out and drove away from the gas station.

------

A loud pounding on the front door of Bobby’s house had the old hunter begrudgingly go to answer. As he opened the door, his eyes met with Dean’s. He looked winded and apprehensive as he smiled cautiously.

Bobby stared back at him, suspiciously with wide and confused eyes. Though he wasn’t a praying man, a part of Bobby prayed every day to a God he didn’t believe in, that the boy he called ‘son’ would come back from the dead.

“Surprise,” Dean said softly.

Taking a step back in shock, Bobby fumbled over his words. “I--I don't…”

“Yeah, me neither.” Dean stepped inside and gave a light shrug. “But here I am.”

As Dean grew closer, Bobby lunged forward at him with a knife in hand. Dean grabbed his arm and twisted it around to stop him, but the old hunter broke his grip and backhanded him in the face with a closed fist.

Dean grunted out at the impact as he stumbled backward from the blow. “Bobby! It's me!”

“My ass!”

Shoving a chair between him and a wrathful Bobby, Dean held his hands out in surrender. “Whoa, whoa, whoa, wait! Your name is Robert Steven Singer. You became a hunter after your wife got possessed, and...you're about the closest thing I have to a father.” Slowly, Dean tried to stand up straight with trepidation. “Bobby...it's me.”

Bobby lowered the knife and stepped forward, hesitating and almost afraid. He placed a gentle hand on Dean’s shoulder and for a brief second, Dean finally felt alive. The touch of someone he loved filled his soul and brought his scarred and traumatized mind back into a moment of sanity.

Though the moment didn’t last long as Bobby’s expression filled with rage once more. He slashed at Dean again with the large blade but was quickly subdued and disarmed by him.

“I am not a shapeshifter!”

“Then you're a Revenant!” Bobby yelled as he struggled against Dean’s hold.

Shoving Bobby away, and having taken the knife, Dean held it out in front of him as a sign of good faith. “Alright. If I was either, could I do this--with a silver knife?” He rolled up his left sleeve and grimaced at the thought before slicing his arm above the elbow. A line of blood appeared and trickled down his forearm as Dean still tried to catch his breath after the tussle.

“Dean…” Bobby was in disbelief, his mouth somewhat agape.

“That's what I've been trying to tell you,” he panted.

The old man almost began to hyperventilate as he broke in emotion. Bobby grabbed Dean and pulled him in for a tight hug, squeezing him with all the love he wished he had shown him before he had gone.

Holding back his tears, a heartfelt thought passed through Bobby’s mind. “My boy…”

Dean returned the sincere hug with enthusiasm and utter relief on his face. He was finally home.

They finally pulled apart and Bobby’s voice cracked. “It's--it's good to see you, boy.”

“Yeah, you too.”

“But…” the old hunter shook his head incredulously. “How the hell did you bust out?”

“I don't know. I just, uh--I just woke up in a pine box--” his words were interrupted by a sudden splash of water in his face.

Dean paused as the holy water Bobby had thrown at him dripped down his then soaked and exasperated expression. He spit out the liquid that had gone into his open mouth, trying not to get frustrated. “I'm not a demon either, you know.”

“Sorry,” Bobby shrugged. “Can't be too careful.”

The two went further into the house and Dean wiped his face with a towel he had grabbed from the kitchen.

“But...that don't make a goddamn lick of sense.” Bobby just shook his head, rattled and slightly unnerved by it all.

“Yeah. Yeah, you're preachin' to the choir.”

As they stood in the study, Bobby went behind his desk that was covered in empty bottles of liquor. “Dean, your chest was ribbons--your insides were slop. And you've been buried four months. Even if you could slip out of hell and back into your meat suit--”

“I know, I should look like a ‘Thriller’ video reject.”

“What do you remember?”

Dean draped the dishrag over his shoulder. “Not much. I remember I was a Hellhound's chew toy, and then...lights out. Then I come to six feet under, that was it.” Bobby sat down, his face still in shock. “Sam's number's not working. He's, uh--he's not…”

“Oh, he's alive, as far as I know.”

“Good…” Dean paused and his face changed to one of concern. “Wait, what do you mean, ‘as far as you know’?”

“I haven't talked to him for months.”

“You're kidding! You just let him go off by himself?”

“He was dead set on it. I tried to stop him, but...these last months haven't been exactly easy, you know. For him or me...or Riley.”

Dean’s heart sank at the mention of her name. He licked his lip anxiously and asked, “is she with him?”

Before Bobby could respond, the sound of a car approaching caught both of their attention. It went quiet as they paused and a car door slammed shut.

Dean heard a dog bark and he felt his nerves spiral out of control as Finnick pushed past the still slightly ajar screen door and rushed in.

The dog went to Dean with a happy wagging tail, but the hunter didn’t bend to pet him with his wide eyes set on Bobby. There was only one reason the golden retriever would be there.

With his nervous heart beating hard in his ears, Dean charged to the front door with long strides. His face was twisted in emotion and anxiety as his breathing became erratic.

Blowing through the screen door, Dean rushed onto the porch with his eyes set on the dirt road leading up to the house. There was a pang in his chest that threatened the air he breathed when he saw a familiar black Mustang parked out front.

But it wasn’t the classic Ford that made him weak, it was the auburn-haired woman leaning against the driver side door. Her arms were folded across her chest as she stared out at the horizon over the sea of scrap metal. She seemed distant, with the light she once radiated drained from her face; an empty and vacant expression had taken its place.

Dean’s heart stopped as he watched a sudden breeze blow past her, throwing her long hair behind her and she inhaled deeply. She was like a glimpse into heaven after an eternity in darkness.

As if something had hit her like a ton of bricks, Riley’s body stiffened and she hesitantly turned towards the front porch. There was something calling to her, or someone, and her eyes welled.

Once her focus had landed on Dean, she gasped softly as her hand clutched at her chest in shock.

Riley stood motionless, just staring back at him and Dean drank her in. Somehow, she was even more beautiful than he remembered. That brief moment was even more powerful than seeing her for the first time that fated morning in Lawrence.

With his boots stomping against the wood with every step, Dean walked down from his spot on the porch, though his gaze never left hers. He only made it a few feet before he stopped, worried that he would scare her.

“Hey, sweetheart…” Dean uttered, barely getting his words out as his eyes filled with emotion.

Everything inside of Riley screamed at the sight of her lost love, though no sound escaped her lips. Still, she mustered what courage she had and hesitantly made her way toward him.

“It’s me…” he said sweetly. “Riley, it’s me.”

A tear fell from her shocked face before she took a shaky step forward. The two grew closer together until there was only a small space between them. They stared into the other’s eyes and Dean smiled through a nervous breath.

Riley reached up with a trembling hand to finally make contact with his cheek. As Dean leaned into her touch, it was enough to make him break and his lips trembled as they connected. That magical bond they had always shared came flooding back and it sucked the air from them both. It was like a piece of their souls had found their way back into their bodies and they were whole once again.

Exhaling a sharp and shaky breath, Riley gazed into his eyes. “...Dean.”

“Yeah...it’s me.”

There was no question in her mind who he was, there was never another person that brought her to life the way he did.

Riley grabbed Dean to pull him in for a starved and needy kiss. He immediately reciprocated and wrapped his arms around her, melting into the warmth she covered him in. She whimpered against his lips as Dean’s hands tangled into her hair to hold her close. The passion that swelled between them was like magic.

They breathed raggedly as they pulled apart, tears softly falling.

“How…?” she asked in a broken voice.

Dean shook his head. “I don’t know.”

Riley threw her arms around him, wrapping him in a powerful embrace. Her fingers practically dug into his back, desperate to feel him. “I don’t care. I don’t care how it happened.”

He returned the hug as deeply as he could. Dean buried his face in her hair and closed his eyes as he inhaled her scent while she nuzzled into his chest.

The sound of his heartbeat was the most beautiful song she had ever heard, a melody she refused to allow to go silent ever again.

Riley couldn’t help it as her voice cracked and almost went into a whisper trying not to sob. “I missed you--I missed you so much.”

Dean took her jaw lovingly as he held her eyes locked onto him. “I’m never gonna leave you again.” He planted a soft kiss on her lips and the two smiled, giggling under their breaths with incredible joy as they hugged again.

With her face buried into Dean’s chest, Riley wept with relief. He kissed the top of her head, trying to hold back his own tears as they seeped from his eyes.

The two stood on the dirt road clinging to each other with the warm sun shining down on them.

For the first time in four months, the two found a moment of peace. Solace washed through them as their hearts collided, home once again in each other’s arms.

------

Later, back inside Bobby’s home once more, the three were still dumbfounded. Though happy to be back together and reunited, Riley, Dean, and Bobby knew that things were far from over.

“How’d you know it was him?” Bobby questioned Riley as he looked at the couple unable to part from each other.

She looked up to touch Dean’s face again, staring into the forest green eyes she thought she’d lost forever. “...I’d know him anywhere.” Dean kissed her forehead and their moment passed. “I just still can’t believe it. I mean...we buried you.”

“Yeah. Why did you bury me, anyway?”

The two turned as Bobby answered for her. “I wanted you salted and burned--usual drill. But...Sam and Riley wouldn't have it.”

“Well, I'm glad they won that one.”

“They said you'd need a body when they got you back home somehow. But that's about all I could get outta Sam.”

Suspiciously, Dean looked between the others. “What do you mean?”

“He was quiet...real quiet. And then he just took off--wouldn't return my calls. I tried to find him, but he didn't want to be found. I haven’t heard from him since.”

Glancing down at Riley once more, Dean questioned with an almost angry expression, “...what did you two do?”

“Dean…” Riley shook her head and licked her bit her bottom lip trying to find the words as Finn jumped onto the old couch and laid down. “I won’t lie to you. I--” she felt herself about to cry again but sniffled it back. “Dean, I tried everything to get you back. I tried to make a deal, but no one would make the trade. I tried to find the Trickster...hell--Sam and I even tried to open up the Devil’s Gate again. None of it worked.” When Dean’s gaze turned darker, she swallowed hard knowing she had disappointed him. “I know. I know, you’re probably angry but, Dean I couldn’t just do nothing...”

Dean drug his palm down his face trying to soothe himself. “Okay. Okay...I get it. I’m not saying I’m happy about it--at all. But--” he tucked her hair behind her ear. “At least you’re okay.”

“But…”

“But, what?”

“I don’t know what Sam may have done.”

“You haven’t been with him?” he asked almost shocked.

She shook her head. “Not for nearly three months now. We, uh--we lost touch.”

“Lost tou--” Dean couldn’t even finish his sentence. How Sam and Riley had split up was beyond his comprehension. “Dammit, Sammy,” he muttered. “It had to be him. But, whatever he did, it is bad fuckin’ mojo.”

Bobby shrugged. “What makes you so sure?” Though he had been worried about Sam for months, all Bobby wanted was to bask in the moment of having Dean back again.

“You should have seen the gravesite,” he told him. “It was like a goddamn nuke went off. And then there was this--this force, this presence. I don't know, but it--it blew past me at a fill-up joint. And then this…” Dean stripped out of his jacket on his left side and pulled up his sleeve to reveal the branded handprint in his skin.

With his brow scrunched in both uncertainty and curiosity, Bobby slowly stood and walked over to him. “What in the hell?”

“It was like a demon just yanked me out...or rode me out.”

“But why?”

“To hold up their end of the bargain.”

Riley looked at Dean’s burn with shock as she studied it. “You think Sam made a deal, don’t you?”

“It's what you and I would have done.”

“Alright,” Bobby started. “I’ll, uh--I’ll go put on some coffee.”

As he left, Riley’s focus was still on the mark on Dean’s arm. She gently ran her fingers over it as Dean watched her loving touch.

A bright light flashed in Riley’s mind like a blinding bolt of lightning and she gasped at the jolt.

“Sweetheart, you alright?” Dean’s eyes darted back and forth between Riley’s with worry as she blinked rapidly trying to readjust. “You saw something...”

Left dumbfounded, she swallowed the nervous lump in her throat. “I’ve never felt anything like that before, Dean. Whatever this is, it’s powerful as hell. ...we need to be careful.”

------

Dean had finally gotten a chance to clean himself up and was beginning to slowly feel like himself again. Riley and Bobby waited nearby as he made a call, as he sought out a lead on Sam.

“Yeah, hi. I have a cell phone account with you guys, and, uh--I lost my phone. I was wondering if you could turn the GPS on for me.” Dean listened to the operator on the other line. “Yeah. Name's Wedge Antilles. Social is 2-4-7-4. Thank you.” Hanging up the phone, he crossed over to the laptop on the table nearby.

“’Wedge Antilles’,” Riley chuckled from the couch as she pet Finnick. “That nerd.”

Intrigued, Bobby followed Dean. “How'd you know he'd use that name?”

“You kiddin' me? What don't I know about that kid?” Typing in the web address for ARC Mobile, Dean began his search. While it loaded, he noticed the stash of empty bottles of alcohol scattered across the room. “Hey, guys? What's the deal with the liquor store? You been throwin’ parties without me?”

“Like I said...last few months ain't been all that easy.”

The room went quiet while Dean held Riley and Bobby’s gaze. Dean knew the feeling of needing to drink the pain away all too well. “Right.”

The laptop beeped as it displayed a city map with a blue arrowing pointing to a starred location. The locator read:

263 Adams Road

Pontiac, Illinois.

“Sam's in Pontiac, Illinois.”

Riley got up and hovered over his shoulder, staring at the screen and then pointing to a spot close by. “That’s right by where we buried you.”

“Yeah. Right where I popped up. Hell of a coincidence, don't you think?”

It was then that Riley could feel it, the walls that Dean had built in his mind once again. She couldn’t get a read on him no matter how hard she tried. Either he was disconnected after all that had happened or Hell had done irreparable damage to his tattered soul.

------

Dean, Bobby, and Riley walked down a dingy and poorly lit hallway as they stopped in front of the last door. Finn was close at their side, happily following them along. The door was marked by a red wooden heart carved with the room number, 207.

As Bobby stood at his side, with Riley hanging back with her faithful canine companion, Dean knocked.

As the door opened, a young and incredibly attractive woman answered. She had long dark hair and was smaller in height like Riley. The strange woman had on only underwear and a tank-top as she looked back at them expectantly.

“So where is it?” she asked.

Dean glanced over to Bobby, confused. “Where's what?”

“The pizza...that takes two guys to deliver?” The woman peered over the men’s shoulders and her face brow arched seeing Riley behind them.

“I think we got the wrong room.”

Sam stepped into the light behind her; he was grim and focused with his hair damp after a recent shower. He was in a t-shirt and jeans, not looking like himself at all. “Hey, is--” Stopping dead in his tracks as he saw Dean, Sam swallowed in shock as his eyes flickered between him and Bobby.

The corner of Dean’s lip curled seeing his little brother again. Quietly and heartfelt with joy, he said, “heya, Sammy.” He walked into the room with Sam still completely silent and the woman stepped aside to let Dean in as he went to his brother.

Sam pulled out a knife and lunged at Dean with anger in his eyes. The woman screamed and Dean blocked the attack as Bobby pulled Sam away, gripping him around the shoulders. Sam struggled against his hold, wanting to destroy whatever creature was imitating his dead brother.

“Who are you?!” Sam shouted at the top of his lungs.

“Like you didn't do this?!”

“Do what?!”

Still clinging to the desperate young hunter, Bobby tried to soothe him as Dean watched with welling eyes. “It's him. It's him. I've been through this already, it's really him.”

Sam stared at Dean as the struggle slowly faded from his body. “What…”

Advancing cautiously and meeting his stare, Dean teased, “I know. I look fantastic, huh?”

Bobby let go of Sam who looked on the verge of tears. The distance between him and his brother made his heart ache even with only mere feet keeping them apart.

As he quickly moved forward, he pulled Dean into a desperate hug. They embraced for several seconds, heavy with emotion and trembling as the two brothers were reunited once more. Bobby looked on with tears in his eyes seeing his boys back together.

Pulling apart, Sam pushed Dean back at arm’s length to look at him alive and well, no longer torn in the ways that had haunted his dreams for months.

Riley waited quietly in the hall, clearly moved by seeing her family all together.

“So...” the woman started hesitantly in the awkward silence. “Are you two like...together?”

Just remembering again that she was there, Sam answered, “what? No. No. He's my brother.”

“O--oh...got it. I--I guess...look, I should probably go.”

“Yeah. Yeah, that's probably a good idea. Sorry.” Sam waited for her to dress again and led her to the door.

“So, call me,” she told him as she peered up at the Winchester with a smile.

Still rattled, Sam nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, sure thing, Kathy.”

With disappointment at his response, she corrected him, “Kristy.”

“Right.” As she began to walk away, Sam saw Riley leaning against the wall in the hallway.

She forced a small smile. “Hey, Sam.”

“Hey…” he said offering the same expression.

Riley waited until he motioned for her to come in and then followed the others inside as Sam shut the door behind them.

Sitting down on the velvet ottoman of the tacky motel room, Sam welcomed Finn with loving pats as the dog excitedly went to see him. “Hey, buddy. How are ya?”

Dean was standing nearby, glaring down at him with his arms crossed. He, Bobby, and Riley were ready and waiting for answers.

“So, tell me,” Dean began with irritation in his voice. “What'd it cost?”

“The girl?” Sam smirked with a breathy laugh. “I don't pay, Dean.”

“That's not funny, Sam. To bring me back--what'd it cost? Was it just your soul, or was it something a hell of a lot worse?”

“...you think I made a deal?” he asked as he peered back at his brother.

Across the room, Bobby sat on the couch like an angry father. “That's exactly what we think.”

“Well, I didn't.”

Intensely, Dean pushed on. “Don't lie to me.”

“I'm not lying.”

“So, what? Now, I'm off the hook and you're on--is that it?” He began to saunter over to Sam, fully believing a deal had been struck and it enraged him. After everything Dean had been through, the thought of his brother being next on Hell’s list made him physically sick. “You're some demon's fuckin’ bitch-boy? I didn't want to be saved like this.”

Sam stood angrily. “Look, Dean, I wish I had done it, alright?”

Not able to take his lies anymore, Dean grabbed Sam by the front of his shirt and demanded through gritted teeth. “There's no other way that this could have gone down and I know Riley didn’t do this. Now tell the truth!”

“I tried everything!” Sam barked back as he pushed Dean off. “That's the truth. Riley and I even tried opening the goddamn Devil's Gate. And yeah, I tried to bargain, Dean, but none of those motherfuckers would deal, alright?” His tone changed as he felt a sob choke in his throat. “You were rotting in Hell for months--for months, and I couldn't stop it. So, I'm sorry it wasn't me, alright?” It was clear Sam felt he had failed his brother when he couldn’t save him and the guilt was slowly eating him alive like a parasite. “Dean, I'm sorry.”

With a nod of understanding, he relented. “It's okay, Sammy. You don't have to apologize, I believe you.”

Jumping onto the bed, Finn curled up to Riley to rest his head in her lap and she ran her fingers through his fur. She was relieved that Sam hadn’t been able to make a deal after worrying about him for months.

Riley discreetly wiped a small tear from her eye before it fell and pulled herself together. At least she finally knew he was safe.

“Don't get me wrong,” Bobby started as he stood to join the boys. “I'm gladdened as hell that Sam's soul remains intact, but it does raise a sticky question.”

As he completed the old hunter’s thought, Dean asked, “if he didn't pull me out, then what did?”

------

The tension that had been swirling through that zebra print motel room had finally died down. Though there were still too many questions that remained unanswered.

Sam passed out bottles of beer as the hunters talked it all through. Bobby sat at the table, while Dean had his arm around Riley holding her close at his side on the sofa.

“I still have way too many questions,” Dean started as he popped open his beer. “For one--Sam, what were you doing around here if you weren't digging me out of my grave?”

“Well, once Riley and I figured out we couldn't save you, we started hunting down Lilith, trying to get some payback.” Sam and his sister shared a solemn look. Nothing was the same between them, that much was clear. “But, uh--we were both pretty messed up after everything and weren’t really handling things well.”

“I can’t believe you two went after that bitch on your own,” Bobby scolded. “At least Riley had the good sense to call once in a while.”

Dean noticed something and frowned with curiosity as he went to investigate.

“Uh, yeah--I'm sorry, Bobby.” Sam knew Bobby was right. He had been reckless and out of control since he’d lost Dean. “I should have called. I just…” he stopped and sighed as he melted into his chair. “I just wasn’t myself.”

Picking up what he had found, Dean turned to his brother showing off a pink-flowered bra. “Oh, yeah…” he added sarcastically. “I really feel your pain.”

Sam let out a breathy chuckle as his brother sat next to him. “Anyways, uh--I was checking these demons out of Tennessee, and out of nowhere they took a hard left--booked up here.”

“When?”

“Yesterday morning.”

“...when I busted out.”

Finally taking part in the conversation, Riley leaned onto her legs with her bottle in hand. “Dean, you don’t think these demons are here because of you, do you?” He shrugged with an unsure look as if to say anything was possible at that point. “Okay, say you’re right. Why though?”

“Well, I don't know. Some badass demon drags me out and now this? It's gotta be connected somehow.”

“How you feelin', anyway?” Bobby asked. He hadn’t taken his eyes off Dean much since he had been back. He was constantly studying him, needing to understand.

“I mean--I'm a little hungry.”

“No, I mean--do you feel like yourself? Anything strange, or different?”

“Or demonic?” Dean’s tone was annoyed, almost insulted; though Bobby just shrugged. “Bobby, how many times do I have to prove I'm me?”

“Yeah. Well, listen. No demon's letting you loose out of the goodness of their bleeding hearts. They've gotta have something downright nasty planned.”

“Well, I feel fine.”

Unless she was talking directly to Dean, Riley kept quiet for most of their meeting. Not only was she still reeling from him coming back and constantly being flooded with emotion, but the feelings of those around her felt like she was drowning--except for Sam.

Riley watched him carefully, still looking for a hint of what had changed. Trying to connect with him was like trying to speak into an empty void. The Sam that had been her brother and best friend was beyond her reach and it saddened Riley in unbearable measure. Sam had his secrets, that much she’d known for some time. But, with Dean back, those secrets began to worry her even more.

“Okay, look,” Sam started. “We don't know what they're planning. We got a pile of questions and no shovel. We need help.”

Bobby took a swig of his beer and wiped what may have remained off his mustache. “I know a psychic--a few hours from here. Something this big, maybe she's heard the other side talking.”

Eager and needing answers, Dean was happy to accept the offer. “Hell yeah, it's worth a shot.”

“I'll be right back.” The old hunter stood to leave and groaned tiredly. He took his phone out of his pocket and headed out of the room as he dialed.

When Dean stood, ready to go, Sam quickly got up as well. “Hey, wait. You, uh--you probably want this back.”

Reaching into his collar, Sam pulled out a black cord necklace as Dean’s amulet came out from under his shirt. Sam placed it in his brother’s hands and Dean looked down at, touched that his brother had been wearing it since he was gone.

“Thanks.” Dean immediately put his necklace back on with a sigh. He remembered how much he had treasured the small gift and having it back brought him incredible joy.

“Yeah, don't mention it.” Unable to leave the question unasked, Sam gathered his courage to say what was on his mind. “Dean...what was it like?”

Riley watched closely, listening and wanting to know his answer as she got up to gather her things.

“What, Hell?” Dean questioned, sounding aloof to the topic. “I don't know, I--I must have blacked it out. I don't remember a damn thing.”

Nodding, a sigh of relief left Sam. “Well, thank God for that.”

“Yeah. Hey, uh--you two go ahead. I’ll meet you guys downstairs.”

“Sure.” Sam and Bobby began to head out as Finnick followed, though Riley lingered behind.

Dean had gone into the bathroom and flicked on the light. As if he had walked in on a massacre, the walls were blood-red and Dean’s heartrate quickened once left alone with his thoughts.

The flash of crimson was then immediately gone.

Dean stared at himself in the mirror and ran a hand over his chin before leaning forward onto the sink.

Sudden horrific memories ripped through him and he shook in fear as his skin crawled. Flashbacks of his beaten and bloody body crying out in agony and horror took his breath away. Loud shrieks pierced his mind and felt like blades in his ears. There was an eerie sound of suffering that there were no words for. It was a cry that not even the darkest of nightmares could comprehend.

“Dean…?”

Turning to the soft voice behind him, the screams faded. Dean blinked himself back into reality, confused and afraid as a worried Riley stood at the door.

“...you alright?”

“What?” he asked, still disoriented. “Oh, yeah. I, uh--I guess I’m just really tired is all.”

Riley didn’t believe him for a second but knew pushing the matter would do more harm than good. “Okay. Uh--let’s head on down. They’re waiting for us.”

“Yeah.” Dean feigned a smile even though he knew there was no fooling Riley.

But still desperate to clear his mind of the horrors that plagued him, he closed the space between them and peered down at her. As Dean played with the hair that fell over her shoulders, he looked into her eyes and softly chuckled under his breath. “God, you’re beautiful.”

Wanting to be whatever he needed, Riley let Dean in and comforted him with waves of love that felt like gentle ocean water washing onto the shore. “You sure you’re okay?”

Dean took her hand in his and brought her knuckles to his lips. He sighed into the warmth of her skin and his body relaxed. “I got you, don’t I?” With one loving kiss, Dean brought their foreheads together.

“Always.”

“Then I’m good.”

As the two pulled apart, they shared forced upward curls of their lips as Riley turned to leave. The loss of her closeness brought the haunting memories back into the forefront of Dean’s mind and he clenched his fist, trying not to tremble.

He may have been ready to leave Hell behind. But Hell wasn’t ready to let go of Dean Winchester.

------

Once all four of the hunters had met up at the motel parking lot, Bobby led them all down a set of concrete steps to the lower lot with Finn in tow.

He pulled out his keys as he spoke to the others without a look. “She's about four hours down the interstate. Try to keep up.” The old hunter got into his beat-up car and started the engine as he waited for Riley and the boys to be ready.

“I assume you'll want to drive.” Reaching into his jacket pocket, Sam grabbed the keys to their beloved Impala before tossing them to Dean.

Dean couldn’t help his excited chuckles as he grinned from ear to ear. “Oh, I almost forgot!” He approached the Chevy and ran a hand along the side lovingly. “Hey, Baby, did you miss me?” The familiar sound of the squeaking doors sounded like home.

Getting into the driver’s side, Dean settled in with a sigh. His attention turned to an iPod plugged into the stereo and his face fell as he gave the gadget a dirty look.

Sam got into the front, smiling at his brother’s reaction, while Riley hopped into the backseat with Finnick.

“What the fuck is that?” Dean asked.

“That's an iPod jack.”

“You were supposed to take care of her, not douche her up.”

With a scoff, Sam smirked. “Dean, I thought it was my car.”

Dean sneered and exhaled his frustration as he turned the key in the ignition. Jason Manns’ song ‘Vision’ began to play through the speakers. He rolled his eyes and glared at Sam again, looking pained and disgusted with his choice of music.

“Really?”

All Sam could do was shrug innocently in response. Dean then ripped the iPod out of the jack and tossed it back into the back seat.

Riley caught the discarded technology and smiled to herself. Dean was definitely back.

------

As Baby followed Bobby’s tail lights down the dark highway, Sam, Riley, and Dean talked things out with it just being the three of them again.

“There's still one thing that's bothering me,” Dean told them. “The night that I bit it. Or…got bit.” He laughed at his own wit, enjoying how clever he was. “How'd you two make it out? I thought Lilith was going to kill you both.”

Sam shifted in his seat to look at both of his partners as Riley leaned in. The two still had no answers for what really happened that night. “Well, she tried. She couldn't.”

“What do you mean, she couldn't?”

“She fired this, like--burning light at us, and...didn't leave a scratch. Like we were immune or something.”

When Dean glanced back to his girlfriend through the rearview mirror, Riley shrugged.

“I mean--we were just as surprised as she was--if not more so,” she explained. “She hauled ass outta there after that.” Finn had fallen asleep in Ri ley’s lap as she rubbed his ears, comforted by his presence.

“Huh. What about Ruby, where is she?”

“Dead for all we know. Haven’t heard anything from her since.”

Dean bit his lip, not sure if he wanted to ask the question on his mind. “So, Sammy...you been using your, uh--freaky ESP stuff?”

“No,” the younger brother retorted.

“You sure about that? Well, I mean, now that you've got...immunity--whatever the hell that is. Just wondering what other kind of weirdo shit you've got going on.”

“Nothing, Dean. Look, you didn't want me to go down that road, so I didn't go down that road. It was practically your dying wish.”

“Yeah, well, let's keep it that way.”

Sam clenched his jaw as he struggled not to lash out at Dean. “You know, you don’t ask about this stuff when it comes to Riley’s abilities. Why is it always with me that you pull this shit?”

“You know--” stopping mid-sentence as he felt himself getting worked up, Dean sighed. “You know it’s not the same thing.”

“How is it not the same thing?!”

As Dean scoffed, Riley ran a hand through her hair and it cascaded around her face as she tried to find the words. “Guys, please…can we not?”

The car fell silent as Sam turned to stare out the window as he brooded. He held a bit of resentment toward Dean for treating him and Riley so differently.

If Sam was being honest, maybe his resentment was more towards her than anyone else.

------

It was early the next morning by the time the hunters had reached their destination. They parked in front of a small house with flowers outside the slightly faded white porch.

Bobby knocked on the chocolate-colored door and didn’t have to wait long before a woman opened the door with a smile. She was in her thirties, strong and beautiful with a ready smile. The woman’s figure was toned, in jeans and a tank top. Her dark hair made her green eyes pop; eyes that would call any sailor to his death.

“Bobby!” She grabbed him into a hug, lifting him briefly off the ground with a playful grunt.

Sam, Dean, and Riley shared a look, surprised by the intense personality of Bobby’s friend.

“Pamela, you're a sight for sore eyes,” Bobby told her with a matching grin.

She stepped back and drug her eyes over Sam and Dean; up and down as if appraising them both. Pamela had hunger in her gaze, and her instant dirty thoughts of the brothers made Riley grimace.

“So, these the boys?”

“Sam, Dean. This is Pamela Barnes, best damn psychic in the state.”

Feeling flattered by Pamela’s obvious attention, Dean replied, “hey.”

“Hi,” Sam said awkwardly with a smile to match.

“Mmm-mmm-mmm,” the psychic chuckled. “Dean Winchester. Out of the fire and back in the frying pan, huh? Makes you a rare individual.”

“If you say so,” he retorted.

Pamela’s attention shifted to the female hunter and she took a minute to study her as well. The golden dog at her side panted with a wagging tail. “And you must be Riley. Heard a lot about you.”

With a curious look, Riley asked, “from who?”

“I have my connections.” She smirked at the smaller hunter but almost in a flirty manner. “I don’t think I need to tell you what it means to be ‘a rare individual’, do I?”

“Hey, I’ll take whatever answers you got.”

“Hmm,” Pamela nodded with a curl of her lip. “Well, come on in. The furry one is welcome too.” The psychic ushered them in, and once they had all gone inside, she closed the door behind them.

In the foyer, the five made a small circle as they immediately began talking.

Bobby was ready and eager to get things moving. “So, you hear anything?”

“Well, I Ouija'd my way through a dozen spirits. No one seems to know who broke your boy out, or why.”

“So, what's next?”

“A séance, I think. See if we can see who did the dirty deed.”

“You're not gonna…” Bobby paused, skeptically. “...summon the damn thing here.”

“No. I just want to get a sneak peek at it--like a crystal ball without the crystal.” Pamela smiled as she walked through the group and headed into the parlor.

Dean and Riley shared a look and the two shrugged.

“I'm game,” he added before quickly following behind their new ally.

The séance room was painted black with odd art sparingly on the walls. It went dark as Bobby closed the thick velvet curtains while the others stood by waiting.

Finn found a spot in the corner and curled up to rest as he waited.

Pamela spread a black tablecloth over a small table covered symbols. Sam, Riley, and Dean watched warily as she worked.

It wasn’t until Pamela squat in front of a dark-colored cabinet that Dean really paid attention. He cocked his head as he read the scrawled tattoo across her lower back that peeked out from under her shirt. ‘Jesse Forever’

“Don’t think I don’t know what you’re looking at, Dean Winchester,” Riley whispered as she gave him a playful shake of her head. “Shame on you.”

He looked like the cat that caught the canary and he fumbled through his thoughts. “I wasn’t--I mean, she--I was just…”

Riley chuckled under her breath. “It’s okay, Dean. I have eyes and I’m just as guilty for staring.”

“Really?” Dean seemed excited almost at her words, turned on even.

“No!” she snarked back at him with a laugh. “Ya freak.”

Dean was embarrassed and his face went a little red. The whole thing was far too humorous for Riley, though she tried to hide it.

Wanting to ease her boyfriend’s curiosity, Riley asked the burning question in the room. “Jesse, huh?”

Pamala laughed. “It sure wasn't forever.”

“His loss,” Dean said plainly.

As she stood back up with several pillar candles in her hands, the psychic stopped in front of Dean with a seductive smirk. “Might be your gain.”

She passed by them, going back over to the table and Dean turned to his partners with a lowered voice. “I think she’s into me.”

Sam scoffed with a fat smile. “Yeah, she would eat you alive.”

“What can I say?” he asked, peering over to Riley with a hooked brow. “I attract formidable women.”

“Damn right, you do,” Riley teased as she moved passed Dean, giving his backside a quick smack.

He jolted at her touch and seethed as he watched her move away. Riley was sexier than any woman that could make a pass at Dean. The girl knew how to drive him to the brink of insanity and the sudden movement in his jeans made him lick his lips.

Seeing Dean’s primal urges grow, Sam frowned. “Ew.” He too left and joined the others at the table.

Dean cocked his head, lost in a dirty thought and smiled before following.

With everyone gathered at the table, the group readied to commune with the supernatural. Six lit candles sat at the center of the table over the cloth which had a painted symbol; the flickering flames the only lights keeping them from utter darkness.

“Right,” Pamela started. “Take each other's hands.” They all began to do as they were told with Riley and Dean on opposite sides of her. The instant Riley and Pamela’s palms touched, the psychic looked into the hunter’s eyes. “Oh, honey...” There was intrigue and fascination in her voice. “What are you? You’re something new altogether, huh?”

“New?” Riley questioned.

“There’s something as ancient as time itself in you, but it feels--” she stopped as she thought to herself, trying to soak in the energy from Riley, hoping to understand it. “Like something no one’s ever seen before or will ever again.”

“What the hell am I supposed to say to that?”

Pamela chuckled to herself as she took Dean’s hand. Her grin grew as she turned back and forth between the couple. “I don’t believe it.”

Dean glanced down at her hand and then back to her face. “What?”

“I heard it was real, but never saw it myself. The two of you--you have a certain connection, don’t you?”

“Yeah…” he answered, meeting Riley’s eyes with a smirk. “Yeah, we do.”

“...you’re soulmates.”

Riley cocked her head back, incredulously. “I mean...I don’t know if we believe in that kinda thing.”

“No, it’s not the whole ‘there’s one perfect person for everyone’ bullshit you hear about. This is bigger...on a cosmic scale. The entire universe had to align perfectly for you to find each other. It’s more than love, it’s fate--destiny.” Pamela shook her head and scoffed a laugh. “I didn’t buy it either until just now when I was channeling you both through me. The energy that flows between you, it’s like...magic.”

The couple stared at each other, their expressions perplexed as they were at a loss for words.

“Alright,” Pamela said clearing her throat. “Let’s get this show on the road before these two start fucking like bunnies.” Both and Sam’s and Bobby’s faces recoiled. “I need to touch something our mystery monster touched.”

Dean looked around, nervous, then took off his outer shirt. Pulling up his left sleeve, he revealed the brand. Sam stared at the scar for the first time and it shocked him to his core.

As she laid her hand on the burned flesh on Dean’s arm, Pamela exhaled and closed her eyes. “Okay.” Following suit, the rest shut their eyes as well. She began to chant in a firm but steady tone. “I invoke, conjure, and command you, appear unto me before this circle. I invoke, conjure, and command you, appear unto me before this circle. I invoke, conjure, and command you, appear unto me before this circle.”

The television nearby flicked on as static blared through its speakers.

Riley’s face scrunched as she listened to a faint and hushed whisper. “What the fuck is that?” she uttered.

Finnick whined and tucked his tail between his legs as he rushed to her side to hide under her chair.

“I invoke, conjure, and command…” Stopping her incantation, Pamela asked, “Castiel? No. Sorry, Castiel, I don't scare easy.”

“Castiel?” Dean’s eyes were wide with nerves, knowing the destruction that came with this creature’s appearances.

“Its name.”

“I think we need to stop,” Riley told her with a shaky breath. “Pamela, it’s a warning--it’s warning you to stop.”

Ignoring the young hunter, the psychic went on, her voice like a threat or demand. “I conjure and command you, show me your face. I conjure and command you, show me your face. I conjure and command you, show me your face. I conjure and command you, show me your face.”

The white noise continued to drone on and the table began to shake violently. “Stop, Pamela!”

“I almost got it! I command you, show me your face! Show me your face now!”

Suddenly, the candles flared up and grew several feet into the air. Pamela began to scream with terror on her face. Her eyes flew open and were filled with white-hot flames as her open mouth shrieked in fear and agony.

The psychic collapsed as the fire in her eyes was snuffed out; the rattling, white noise and flaring candle flames dying out.

Bobby was able to move quickly and caught her as she fell before he gently lowered her to the floor. “Call 9-1-1!”

Sam scrambled out of his chair and into the next room as Riley and Dean crouched over Pamela and Bobby. She was conscious but bleeding from her eyes with large circles of charred skin encompassing them.

As she opened her lids, the others jumped to see her eyes were gone, leaving only black empty sockets.

She sobbed. “I can't see! I can't see! Oh god!”

While she tried to tend to the injured woman on the floor, Riley turned to the sound of the whisper once more.

“...be ready.”

------

Season 4 Chapter 1: Lazarus Rising Part 2

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