A/n: For anyone who read "He's My Brother" I just want to say first off thank you, and secondly the sequel is in the process of being written. I'm currently 5 chapters in to it which means I have a long ways to go still. I don't think it's going to be as long as the first one was, but I honestly don't know yet. I'm still working out kinks and ideas for this, trying to do what I did last time and pull some things that happened in the show but still twist it to be its own thing. I don't want to start posting until I'm close to the end of it and I'm happy with it, but since I can't post updates that are about story progression, I have to do it a bit differently. So consider this a sneak preview of the story. If anything changes, I'll figure out how to keep you informed through another chapter. I've missed this story and I look forward to getting back to it.

Thank you to anyone who reads, favorites, and/or reviews as well as anyone patient enough to follow this story.

I don't own Supernatural.

Chapter 1

Many things happened at the same time the moment Dean's heart started to beat. His green eyes that had been closed flew open. Or at least he thought they did. Everything was still as dark as if he had them shut. He tried blinking, which actually took some effort, testing out his theory. It was still too dark to tell. Dean took a deep breath. Several of them and every one of them felt as though he had swallowed needles. A harsh dry cough erupted from him as he struggled to catch his breath in what was stale air which then caused him to gag as the smell of rot caught his nostrils. Dean couldn't move. His neck felt as though it had been pushed up in an uncomfortable position for a long period of time reminding him of the times he had fallen asleep with his head resting on the couch arm. His arms were pinned to his side. He was given very little freedom to move his hands and his feet were scrunched up tight as well.

It was hard for the elder Winchester to not panic, not when his air supply was so low and he was so confined. Realizing that he was crammed to fit whatever he was currently laying in instead of the container having been worked to accommodate him properly, he was overwhelmed with the need to get out. With not much room to move and his body still too weak to do a whole lot of moving, Dean forced himself to beat the best he could on his prison. Luckily for him it took little to no effort. Unfortunately for him, with the top now broken, dirt came tumbling down over Dean's face. He managed to squeeze his eyes shut in time but still got a taste sample of something as dry as his mouth felt and unpleasant to the tastebuds. Trying to keep his mouth and eyes shut he began to put all the strength he had into working the dirt off of him and working his way up.

The process wasn't a quick or easy one but finally he felt his hand stop reaching for crumpled earth and instead he felt a sensation he was not prepared for. It was freezing cold and a lot softer then the previous element he'd been climbing up. Dean retracted his hand in surprise as it burned with the exchange from warm dry earth to cold biting snow. He only paused momentarily before pushing himself to continue. Finally he felt his dirt covered hand reach up and he felt the most inviting feeling he'd experienced in a long time. Fresh air. He pushed himself the hardest he had yet as he broke through the ground and snow, hoisting his head and upper body up. Even the faintess of light caused Dean to call out in surprise and pain as he once again closed his eyes, then slowly cracked them open. With one last desperate yell he managed to pull himself completely from the ground and he laid panting, sweaty, dirty, and exhausted with his cheek and body in the snow.

The scene all around him was covered in a thick layer of white which stood out even brighter against the grey sky. Nearby a raven sounded and other than his own breathing, it was the only sound Dean heard. With his heartbeat still racing and his body fully exerted, the elder Winchester allowed himself to fall asleep in the cold.

When Dean woke again he was shivering. The snow had soaked through his clothes and had bitten into his skin. His entire body ached and burned, but he knew if he didn't get up now, he wouldn't get up again. Already he feared hypothermia may have kicked in and he cursed himself for not pushing himself to get up once he had climbed out of the hole. He moved slower then he would have liked, but he managed to get himself to his knees. Breaking to catch his breath and muster up his strength, he worked on getting to his feet. They wobbled and protested, but Dean managed to keep himself up without crumbling down. Standing a good few minutes, he took his first attempt at walking. Although he didn't remember the first time he took a step away from the couch and towards his encouraging parents, Dean felt like he was learning how to walk all over again. Only instead of a smiling mother and father, his goal was to reach the road and hopefully some help.

As he stood readying himself to take a step forward he took in the world around him. It may have been covered with snow, but it was still recognizable and he remembered exactly where he was. Tombstones protruded out from the ground and a little off in the distance was a mausoleum with iron doors. Skinny dead trees were scattered throughout and in one of them is where Dean found the raven he had heard earlier. Turning to look back at the hole he had managed to squeeze out of, he could see the top of rocks and next to what he quickly realized was his gravesite was another tombstone with a similar grouping of rocks. If there were two graves with the similar decoration, that likely meant that the grave next to his was made by the same person who made his. Which meant the neighboring grave could only belong to one person. The elder Winchester tried to swallow but his throat was too dry and all he got was a metallic taste and the feeling of needles once again accompanied by what felt like multiple stones in the pit of his stomach. Deciding he could grieve later once he was out of the forsaken cemetery, Dean slowly brought his right leg up enough to move it ever so slightly in the direction that would lead him out.

It took him a much longer time than he liked and that it should have, but soon enough he was walking as though he were just very exhausted rather than a zombie. Spotting the road, he let out a sigh of relief and tried to quicken his pace. He wobbled and stumbled but still managed to keep himself on his feet for the most part. The road was a bit icy as was expected in the snow, so Dean found a tree a bit off to the side which he used for support but where he was still in view and waited for a passing car.

A few went by where he had waved and tried to call out, but none had stopped. In fact a few of them upon seeing him had tried to speed up. Finally, a red car came to a halt in front of the worn down freezing man. Dean slowly walked forward as the window on the passenger side rolled down. Leaning heavily on the frame he peered in. It was too dark for him to get a good view of the driver but he could tell by the shape and his voice that it was a man. He could feel the man's eyes taking him in, deciding if it was safe to allow this stranger to enter his car. Trying to lighten up the mood Dean attempted to speak.

"Nice ride," he replied in a hoarse voice. It was still raw from being so dry and hearing himself speak sounded alien to him. Though he was grateful that even though it hurt, he didn't seem to have as much trouble with it as he did walking. "1981 Chevy El Camino, right?"

"Yeah, that's right," the man replied sounding a bit surprised.

"I'm a Chevy man too," Dean explained proudly. "Got me a 1967 Chevy Impala."

There was a bit of a pause and then the driver spoke "is that right?" Jerking his head towards the unoccupied seat next to him he added "hop in Chevy Man."

"Thanks." Dean practically collapsing into the passenger seat and just managing to close the door before the car sped away.

"So if you don't mind me asking, what the hell were you doing out in the middle of nowhere? Or more specifically, out in a cemetery covered in dirt at this hour of the morning? You a grave robber?" The driver inquired suspiciously.

"No."

"You aren't a lonely necro looking for love are you?"

"Wh-? No." Realizing how he must have looked having climbed out of his grave on top of being exhausted and not far from the cemetery he gave a tired answer. "Look it's uh, it's kind of a long story."

"I've got time."

"I'm sure you do, but if it's all the same to you I'm running on empty so maybe we can save story time for later?"

It was clear to Dean that his company didn't like the idea but the man licked his lips and nodded all the same.

"Fair enough. So where are you headed?"

"Honestly, I don't know. Phone's dead so I can't call anyone. I have no idea where my brother is, at this point I just hope he's..." Dean stopped as a thought came to him. "Go ahead and drop me off at the next town. I'll take a bus from there." Feeling around all his pockets he cussed to himself.

"No wallet?"

"Yeah I musta-" catching himself he quickly corrected his words "misplaced it. I'll figure it out, just wherever's convenient."

"Nah no way I'm leaving you like that."

"Well that's kind of you, but the only place I know I can go isn't exactly close."

"Where's that?"

"Sioux Falls."

"South Dakota?"

"Like I said, the guy's not close."

There was a pause before the owner of the vehicle asked "got an address?"

"Uh it's..." Dean struggled to remember having only really driven their once before. "Honestly I can't remember. Twenty-one ninety-four something something."

"This guy have a name?"

"Bobby."

"Bobby Singer?" The driver asked in shock. Dean was equally surprised.

"Yeah..."

"How do you two know each other? If you don't mind me asking."

"Uh, he helped me and my brother awhile back." He stopped and turned to face his company. "How about you?"

"Business." It was quiet between them for awhile before the driver spoke "alright, I'll take you to South Dakota."

Dean felt himself relax further into his seat which he hadn't even thought was possible. "Thanks."

"Sure thing. It's a long ride though and I'd rather be among a friend than a stranger. Gordon Walker," the man introduced himself.

The passenger gave a small tired nod "Dean Winchester."

The driver's head spun to face his company and Dean could feel his eyes on him better than he could see them. "Nice to meet you Dean Winchester."

"Likewise. Thanks again for the ride. If you want, I'll gladly split the driving time so you get a break."

"No offense, but I kinda don't let other people drive my car."

"Yeah no I totally get that. I don't even let Sam drive my Baby if I can help it."

"Sam?"

"My brother."

"I see." The owner of the El Camino reached for the knob that controlled the heat in the car, cranking it up. "We've got a long road ahead of us and you look like you could use some rest Dean. I'll wake you when we get there."

Dean wanted to decline the offer, but his body had other plans. Still spent on his trek back up to solid ground and the cold, he surrcomed to the warmth that filled the car and the lack of needing to do anything physical and soon fell asleep.