Chapter One
A clear night came over the quiet, normal neighborhood near Battle Creek, Michigan, the ebony sky speckled with the first signs of stars about to appear. No breeze was present in the still air, but the atmosphere was cool and chilly. The neighborhood was silent, streets and sidewalks desolate, though some golden light came out of the windows of several houses, where it was safe, warm, and comforting inside.
Glaring headlights suddenly appeared down the road, as a black 1967 Chevy Impala came speeding down the street. Inside the car sat a handsome man in his early thirties wearing an olive green jacket. He wore a blank expression on his chiseled face and his large green eyes were faded and melancholy, though had a faint light of focus in them. He gave off an aura of fresh, tormenting grief, and any passerby would have easily have seen that he carried the weight of the world on his shoulders. This man was Dean Winchester.
Dean parked the Impala in front of one certain house that gave off a particular sensation of comfort. He stared at it a moment, thoughts drifting through his mind. We did it. He thought. We stopped the Apocalypse. Dean felt he should feel some joy, but all he felt was an odd, dreamlike feeling, one that he only had known in times of sickness. He stared at the house. He did not want this, all he wanted to do was find a way to save Sam, to save his brother. Or else die. But you made a promise. His mind told him. And you have to keep it. He inhaled deeply, then exhaled, finally getting out on to the sidewalk. He stared at the house a moment, then slammed the car door shut and walked up to the porch. Dean knocked on the front door, and it was opened by a beautiful, dark-haired woman who stared at him in a mixture of confusion and relief.
"Hey, Lisa." He said, his voice cracking.
"Oh, thank God!" Lisa exclaimed. "Are you all right?"
"Yeah." Dean lied, his voice sounded as if on the verge of tears. "Uh...if it's not too late, I... think I'd like to take you up on that beer." Lisa's expression was one of pity and faith.
"It's never too late." She said. Dean stepped inside, where when he crossed the threshold it seemed like he was entering a portal into a new life. Lisa put her arms around him. Dean fought back tears, and his eyes watered slightly. He couldn't be comforted, not matter how much Lisa tried. She stroked his back and he buried his head into her arm. "Shh. It's okay." She murmured. "It's gonna be okay."
Despite what Lisa said, Dean felt as though nothing was okay, and that it never would be. His brother was burning in Hell, and Dean was about to go live some normal, apple-pie life. It felt far from okay, but Dean knew what Sam would want, and it was the least he could do for his brother; the last thing he could do. He could still hear Sam's voice in his mind…You go find Lisa. You pray to God she's dumb enough to take you in, and you, you have barbecues and go to football games. You go live some normal, apple-pie life, Dean. Promise me.
Dean sat with Lisa's son, Ben, at the kitchen table. Ben had been surprised to see Dean, but had accepted him all the same. Lisa stood at the counter behind them. She glanced up. Dean still seemed downcast….no. That wasn't the word. He seemed haunted, losing focus, staring at walls in deep thought. Lisa knew something about Dean's real life and job, and whatever he must have seen or done seemed to be weighing on him. She walked over, a concerned expression on her face, and set down a dish on the table.
"You okay?" She asked gently. Dean gave a weak smile.
"Yeah, I'm good." He said, taking a drink of whiskey. Lisa knew he was lying, but decided it was best not to put pressure on him. He'd been through more than any guy she'd ever met, and he was struggling to hold it together. Sometimes, you just needed to keep it all inside.
Lisa was dishing up some food on a plate for Dean when a frantic pounding on the door suddenly started, causing her to jump. Dean began to get up automatically, but Lisa put a hand on his shoulder.
"I'll get it." She said, placing the plate down before him. Lisa set the spoon back in the bowl, then headed to the front door. She couldn't see anyone through the glass, and set her hand on the handle, wondering slightly who could be calling at this hour. Lisa opened the door. At first, she saw no one, but as her eyes traveled downward she saw a man lying down, unconscious on the porch. She squatted down, concerned, and touched his shoulder, but he gave no response. Lisa mustered her strength, and managed to roll him onto his back. He was a tall, dark-haired man in his late twenties, and as she observed him, her eyes widened in recognition.
"Dean." She said. "Dean, come here, quick."
Dean was taking another drink of whiskey when he heard Lisa calling. He got up from the table and glanced at Ben, who was looking curiously in his mother's direction.
"Stay here, Ben." Dean said. Ben looked slightly disappointed, but complied. Dean headed toward the entryway, where he saw Lisa kneeling on the floor. She beckoned to him. Dean walked over and when he noticed what Lisa was looking at, he froze in pure shock. His mind blanked as he gaped at the unconscious body on the porch. Lisa looked from the man to Dean.
"Sammy…?" Dean's question came out as barely a whisper as he stared at his brother in shocked confusion. His blank mind was suddenly filled thoughts running a million miles an hour. It was Sam, his brother lying unconscious on the porch. Dean wanted with all his soul to bring Sam inside, but a tiny question egged at his mind, and he rushed out the door, stepping over Sam, running to the Impala. Lisa called after him, but he ignored her and opened the trunk, rooted through the mess of guns and weapons, before finally finding what he was searching for. Dean returned to the porch, carrying a metal flask and a small silver knife.
"Dean, what are you…" Lisa trailed off as Dean splashed some water from the flask on Sam's chest. He half-expected the holy water to steam and sizzle upon having contact with Sam's skin, but it had no effect. Dean knelt down and rolled up Sam's sleeve, then opened a small cut with the silver knife on his forearm. The cut bled, but had no effect on the surrounding skin. Relieved, Dean looked up at Lisa, who was staring at him as though he had just come out of a mental asylum. Dean shrugged.
"Gotta make sure it's really him." He said. Lisa nodded, apparently not wanting to discuss the topic any further. Dean turned back to Sam. "Help me get him inside." He said.
Dean and Lisa managed to carry a still unconscious Sam inside the house, lying him down on the couch. Dean drew up a chair and sat down, staring at his sibling's peaceful face, trying to figure out what had just happened.
"Do you want anything?" Lisa asked him. Dean shook his head.
"No." He said, still staring at Sam.
"All right, then." Lisa said. "I'm going to clean up the kitchen and get Ben to bed." Dean scarcely nodded, and felt Lisa's hand touch his shoulder before exiting the room. He folded his hands and rested his chin upon them, eyes locked on Sam.
"What happened, Sammy?" He asked the still form in front of him. Lisa and Ben could probably hear him, but Dean didn't care. He needed to speak his thoughts. "You took control from Lucifer then jumped in the Cage. Why are you here now?" Sam, of course, didn't reply. "I saw you go down with Michael." Dean continued. "Was there something I missed after I left? Maybe Michael did something…" He trailed off, knowing his thought was incorrect. Dean didn't like to think that some evil force had rescued Sam, but he had no idea of what else might have raised him. A moment of silence passed.
"I went through with my promise." Dean spoke up. "I went to Lisa, and was gonna live a normal life with her. But now you showed up. What am I supposed to do? Huh, Sammy? What now?"
"You go and leave with your brother." A voice said behind him. Dean turned to see Lisa standing in the doorway. "You came here because Sam was gone." Lisa continued. "And now he's back. So you can leave with him."
"You sure?" Dean asked. Lisa came up to him and sat on his lap.
"This isn't you." She said. "Dean Winchester, who's spent his whole life on the road hunting monsters, living in a neighborhood in Michigan?" Lisa laughed lightly and placed a cool hand on his face, stroking his cheek. "You spend the night here, or as long as Sam needs to recover. And then you hit the road again, okay? Just promise that you'll stop by once in a while." Dean rested his head against her bosom, and she lightly ran her fingers through his hair.
"Okay." Dean murmured, putting his arms around Lisa's waist. She gently freed herself from his grasp.
"I'm gonna go to bed, all right." Lisa said. "I can get you some pillows and blankets if you want to stay with Sam." Dean reach up and held her forearm.
"I'm good." He said. Lisa smiled and gave him a small kiss before exiting the room. Dean turned back around and continued his vigil of guarding Sam. That's what he'd done his whole life, protecting Sam, making sure he stayed alive. But Dean had failed when Sam had fallen into the Cage, there was nothing he could do. Maybe that's why Sam had been resurrected. Maybe Dean was getting a second chance.
A bright golden light met Sam's eyes when he open them the next morning. He squeezed them shut again, wanting to go back to sleep, but when tiredness refused to find him, he gradually adjusted his eyes to the light. He was lying on a comfy sofa in what looked like a living room, with sunlight streaming through the windows. He tried to recollect what happen. He remembered taking control from Lucifer and falling into the Cage...what happened after that? He must have blacked out. Sam looked at his surroundings again. This couldn't be the Cage, no way in hell. He sat up, and remained completely still. From what he could tell, Lucifer was no longer possessing him. So, what did that mean?
Sam suddenly heard muffled voices coming from the room opposite from him. For a moment, he felt slightly anxious, but upon focusing more on the voices, he realized the masculine one as his brother, Dean's. And the other, more feminine one...it took a minute for him to recognize it as Lisa Braeden's. Sam smiled slightly. Dean must have gone through with his promise: to live a normal life with Lisa and Ben.
Sam willed himself to rise, and then headed toward the direction of the voices. He entered the kitchen and paused. Dean and Lisa were standing over the counter, conversing in lowered tones. He stood still for a moment, but neither of them seemed to notice his presence, and he cleared his throat, issuing a noise that signaled he was there. Both Dean and Lisa turned to see him at the same time, and Sam gave a smile, which quickly faded when neither returned it. Dean set down his coffee mug and just stared.
"Hey." Sam said weakly. Sam started to walk toward him, and Dean met him halfway, pulling him into a tight embrace. Sam returned the gesture, and wrapped his arms around his brother. They held each other for several seconds, and when they pulled away, Dean's eyes were slightly teared up. He patted Sam's back.
"Hey, Sammy." He said, his voice breaking. Dean smiled. "You're looking good, considering…" Sam gave a small laugh.
"Yeah." He agreed. Sam glanced over at Lisa, who was standing nearby, looking slightly awkward. "Hey, Lisa." He greeted her. "Nice to see you again." Lisa nodded.
"You too." She said. Lisa glanced between Sam and Dean. "I'll leave two alone." Lisa left the kitchen, passing her hand over Dean's back as she went. Dean raised his mug.
"Coffee?" He asked. Sam nodded.
"Yeah." He said, moving to sit at the counter. Dean poured some coffee into a cup and passed it to Sam, who took a long drink of the hot liquid. The warmth seeped through his body, making him feel revived and alert. Dean stared at him intensely, and it took Sam a moment to realize why. He had come back from Hell in one piece, with no explanation. Of course, Sam didn't have an explanation, and there was only one thing that he could think of.
"Dean." He said suddenly. "You, uh, didn't happen to sell your soul for me, again, did you?" Dean shook his head and took a long swig of coffee.
"Nope." He said. "For two reasons. One, you would have killed me for doing it, and two, there's no way any demon could have plucked you from the pit, or would have, for that matter."
"So how…?" Sam wondered aloud. Dean shrugged.
"Beats me." He said. Another moment of quietude passed, then Sam stood.
"I'm gonna...go to the bathroom." He said. Sam really didn't need to go, he just wanted to go somewhere private.
"Bathroom's down there, door on the right." Dean said, gesturing to the north wall of the kitchen, where there was a large alcove. Sam walked over to the door and pushed it open, entering the small white bathroom. Despite the clean feeling of the room with baby blue accents, it felt cold and unfeeling, like an operating room at the hospital. Sam crossed over to the mirror, and took off his jacket. He rolled up his sleeve to his shoulder, hoping for some sign of how he had been resurrected. But no red hand-print was on either of his shoulders, like Dean had when he had been raised by Castiel, which meant he most likely hadn't been rescued by an angel. So what?
Sam put his jacket back on and went into the kitchen again. He sat perpendicular to Dean at the counter.
"What happened?" He asked. Dean sipped his second cup of coffee.
"Well, after you and Michael fell in the pit, I went to go live with Lisa, like you wanted." He said. "I'd only been here a few hours when you showed up on the doorstep, unconscious." Dean glanced at Sam. "What do you remember?" Sam shrugged.
"Nothing after falling into the Cage." He said.
"Not even Hell?" Dean inquired. Sam shook his head.
"Nope. I must have blacked out." He said. Dean looked at him doubtfully.
"You know," He began. "that's exactly what I said when I came back from downstairs; and I was lying."
"I'm not lying." Sam insisted. "I don't remember anything after jumping into the hole."
"Someone knocked at the front door." Dean said. "When you showed up. Are you gonna tell me that wasn't you?"
"What? No, that couldn't have been me." Sam said. He furrowed his brow. "I don't remember that at all."
"Maybe you forgot after you blacked out." Dean suggested. Sam nodded, but he highly doubted it. People didn't forget things like that. Whoever, or whatever raised him must have wanted him to find Dean. He started to get up.
"So, are we gonna hit the road?" He asked. Dean looked startled and attempted to get him to sit back down.
"Woah, hey there." He said, spreading his arms. "Dude, you just came back from Hell, give yourself some time, and we just stopped the Apocalypse, so can't we celebrate a little?"
"Dean, I'm fine." Sam protested. "Really." Dean put down his arms, and Sam started to move out of the room.
"Easy, Sam!" Dean said. "For God's sake, can't we just sit?"
"Dean!" Sam said, irritated. "Let me live my life!"
"All right, all right." Dean said. "You're my brother, Sam, I have the right to be concerned about you." He looked at him. "Are you sure you're fine?" Sam nodded.
"Yeah." He said.
"Then we can leave today." Dean said. He walked out of the kitchen. "Baby's waiting outside. She's ready to go hunting."