This is not a deathfic. It is a limpSam/angstingDean. No Wincest. Please let me know if you think I should continue this story. Thank you Faye Darthmouth for betaing. I tried to use your suggestions.

'Unnatural'

Chapter 1

He stood alone in the cemetery.

The sky above was overcast, an unbroken canvas of gray contrasting the almost luminous green of the grass beneath his boots. Cold granite loomed in his peripheral vision as a bone numbing chilliness bit through his coat, drawing goose bumps over his flesh in stark contrast to the single hot tear that burned a path down his cheek. Somehow it had escaped from his soul.

Rain was forecast, not that it mattered to the walking dead

- - - - -

Dean stood in front of the cold headstone and just stared. It wasn't supposed to be like this. He was supposed to save Sam. This? This what Sam had done? It was unnatural.

Big brothers were supposed to save little brothers. That was how it was supposed to go. Not the other way around. Not Sam dying for him.

Dean! Sam's voice yelled, deep and terrified, as the creature lifted Dean by his throat and slammed him into the wall. His head rang. He actually saw stars… pretty… and then he was grabbed again. His chest exploded in pain. His shoulder pulled from its socket and then Sam was there. Somehow.

His entertainment value exhausted, Dean was dropped on the ground. And now it was Dean's turn to yell. SAMMY!

One quick movement and it was over.

For Sam.

A slash of claws across a soft abdomen.

For one brief moment time stood still.

Sam's eyes locked on Dean's in silent apology and then without even a whisper of sound, he dropped…

The rest was a blur. Rage overtook pain. Grabbing the shotgun he'd lost, Dean was lethal. But it was too little. Too late.

Sammy.

So now Dean stood, battered and bruised, one arm in a sling, stitches across his forehead, broken ribs taped while his brother. His baby brother. Lay beneath him in a dirt-filled grave. The broken hunter knew he'd have to come back later. There were things to be taken care of. Burned.

His brother deserved to rest in peace.

It had been a long week. The longest in his life since he regained consciousness in the hospital to a world that Sam was no longer a part of.

Three days later he had been discharged with a battery of restrictions and instruction but all of it was muted by the silence of his brother's death. He nodded at all the right times, signed all the right things. Got a room.

He took too many pills and wondered why he even woke up.

For two more days he lived in drugged denial. Drinking painkillers down with beer, passing out and waking up in his own puke… forever disappointed when he woke.

And then yesterday the hunter finally stared the walking dead in the face as he took in his own reflection for the first time in six days, and realized he had forgotten something very important. Sam.

He had to take care of his brother, one final time.

So today Dean finally made it to his brother's resting place to wait for nightfall. When darkness came, he would dig his brother up. And burn him.

…You're my brother. I'd die for you…

Six words.

A promise.

A promise fulfilled.

Now Dean stood alone.

Sighing heavily, the young man crouched down next to the grave and ran his fingers through the grass. It was cold, each blade biting a chill through is fingers and he shivered. Sammy hated being cold…

The kid lived in layers. And died in shreds.

Dean wanted to scream but there was no one to scream at.

He wanted to bleed but his wounds were already closed.

He wanted his brother back but Sam was dead.

Dead because he saved Dean's life.

A presence behind him made Dean huff as he straightened up to his full height. "You have got to be kidding me."

"You're not surprised to see me," the man commented. Not a question. A fact.

The distraught young hunter didn't answer. He didn't even have the drive to see what the man looked like, much less try to kill him. All that mattered was the man would have yellow eyes. Everything else was borrowed.

"You know this really pisses me off," the man continued and that surprised Dean. This time he cast a glance towards the demon-possessed man. "Him, being dead and all." The thing elaborated. "I had such plans for that boy."

Dean rolled his eyes and turned away. "Sorry to disappoint you." Sarcasm dripped.

"This really is too bad," the man sighed and then shook his head. "And I was so looking forward to taking him from you. Watching you fight for him…"

Dean glared at the grave, his one good hand curling up tightly in a fist.

"You have been thus far entertaining."

"You never would have won." Dean growled, possessive of his brother even after death. Especially after death.

The demon in the man-suit turned and looked good and hard at the young hunter. He appraised him and then a feral glint lit his yellow eyes. "You really believe that don't you?"

"Nothing to believe," Dean asserted bitterly. "He was my brother."

"Ah yeah," the thing mused, "there is that bothersome 'was' thing again. I really hate past tenses," he wrinkled up his nose disdainfully; "it takes all the fun out it."

"What do you want?" the hunter grit out, fighting a suicidal impulse to tackle the creature standing next to him. But he couldn't do that to his brother. Dean had to live so that Sam's death meant something. So that Sam meant something.

His brother deserved to be remembered.

"I've come to give you a gift," the man said, a toothy smile shark-like.

"I don't want anything you have," Dean snorted. He wanted to turn and walk away but he couldn't leave his brother alone with this thing – not even now. He stopped and turned around, his words acidic. "Oh wait. I do want something. How about your death? Can you give me that?"

The creature chuckled. "You really are amusing, aren't you? But seriously, my petulant boy, I'm here to give you back your brother." He seemed to relish the horrified and stricken look on the young hunter's face.

"What?" Dean was stunned. He shook his head vehemently. "Nuh uh. That's not how it works. What's dead stays dead!"

The possessed man's smile grew feral. "Not any more."

And then, before Dean could stop him, the demon fled the man and dove into the fresh dirt of Sam's gave.

"NOOOO!" Dean yelled trying to reach out and grab the black mist. But he couldn't hold the air, no more than he could a life. He fell to his knees, his head shaking, hot tears burning unbidden down his rough cheeks. "Please God… no…" As much as he loved his brother and missed him, this wasn't natural. And even if the demon could bring Sam back – would it be his brother or something else, a darkness wearing a Sammy suit?

For a few moments, nothing happened. The previously possessed and now completely bewildered man struggled to his feet. Dean ignored him. And then the demon was back, quickly regaining the body he had just left.

Dean looked up at him, his face seething with hatred and cursing his own inability to do anything right now.

The demon smiled down at him as he wiped his hands off in his pants. "Well that's done."

"What did you do?" the hunter growled as he slowly stood.

"I did what I said." His smile became more toothy, if possible, "I brought your brother back." He glanced down at his watch. "You'd better dig fast though. Coffins don't hold that much air you know." And then he walked away leaving a stunned Dean to stare after him.

Dean froze, his next breath catching in his throat as he just stood there. He shook his head. No. This can't be real. This is a dream. No. Not a dream. A nightmare. One big freaking nightmare… I'll open my eyes and everything will be all right. Sammy'll be yapping at me about something and –

And then the demons words sunk in.

…Coffins don't hold that much air you know…

Beneath his feet, Sammy was suffocating. Dying… again.

"Not on my watch," Dean growled already running for the Impala.

He needed a shovel, because regardless of his protests, he was not willing to let his brother die in a grave. And if Dean's worse fears were right, and what had come back wasn't Sam, he'd deal with it then.

But for now, he had a little brother to dig up.

TBC