Set after Season Three and before Season Four. Dean is dead and Sam is trying to cope as best he can when he gets the brilliant idea of just how he is going to raise his brother from the dead. Sam is going to piss Dean off. One-shot. Funny.
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Sam clutched at his chest, as he lay prone on the bathroom floor. Bobby had given up trying to talk to him hours ago. The room was silent but Sam could still hear the screaming. The memory of his brother's screaming buzzed in his ears. It tore at his heart and pulled his stomach into his throat. He knew he was supposed to burn Dean's body but he couldn't bring himself to do it. He had buried him with the hope that he could raise him from the dead, somehow. For weeks the only thing that had kept him going was looking for a way, anyway to bring Dean back. He had tried everything, from voodoo to deals with demons. No one would bargain, not even other beasties and baddies. The death deal on Dean's soul had been universally acclaimed as something no supernatural would mess with. There was nothing in this wide world that could bring his brother back from the grave. Sam knew he should get on with his life, keep hunting, or screw that entirely. He should find a job, maybe become a teacher or something, get married, and have kids. Or he should kill every bad thing he could get his hands on but all he could do right now was hold himself together and fight to breathe and fight to keep the images of his brother's ravaged corpse from his mind.
When dad had died, Sam had felt numb and guilty. If only Dean and him had let Dad hunt on his own, if only Sam hadn't been so revenge crazed, then John wouldn't have died trying to save them. Now, with Dean's death, he would give almost anything to stop feeling, to sink into the blessed release of numbness but the raw pain and screaming ache wouldn't leave his battered soul. He would do anything to have his brother back. He would even settle for a zombie Dean. Or a ghost Dean.
Sam's thoughts, which had been spiraling around in his head like a whirlwind suddenly came to a screeching juttering halt. A ghost Dean. He hadn't thought of that. He sat up suddenly and flung open the bathroom door. Bobby had left to pick up some food for them and the motel room was empty. Sam flung himself onto his bed and grabbed his computer. He opened the Internet and went to his trusted website, Google and looked up ghosts. A few years ago Dean and him had hunted a ghost of a man who had haunted his wife because she had cheated on him with his brother. The man, Jeffery, had already been dead when the wife had moved on to the younger brother but the jolt of that betrayal in the dead man's mind was enough to pull him from his blessed sleep and made him into a ghost. Sam found the article and the notes he had written about the incident and started to read. In rare cases ghosts would haunt their loved ones when they felt a sense of indignant rage or betrayel so strong it would bring them back to the ghostly realm. Sam knew everything about his brother. If anyone could piss Dean off enough to come back as a ghost, Sam could. Sam stopped himself briefly knowing that if Dean came back as a ghost, he would have to burn Dean's body in order to keep Dean from becoming violent. But no, he wouldn't think about that now. Now he just needed to see Dean, no matter the consequences.
First thing was first. Sam started off slow. He decided to put an iPod dock into the Impala. Sam could almost hear Dean yelling about douching up his beautiful girl as Sam pulled the cassette player from the dash and installed his newly bought iPod. Sam went to bed that night fully expecting to be haunted but he slept the night through peacefully.
Over the next couple of weeks Sam did everything he could to piss off his deceased brother. He ditched Bobby first off, leaving him a scathing note. He badmouthed AC/DC and Led Zeppelin. He ate salads galore, and got really drunk nearly every night. He slept with fat chicks and even called up Cassie to see if she'd have a go, she wouldn't. He threw himself into hunts recklessly, getting banged up and bruised. He stitched up his own hurts and never went to the doctor. He blared Beyonce and Lady Gaga in the impala and sung along. He threw out Dean's cassette collection and refused to clean any of Dean's most precious weapons. At the end of the third week, with no haunting Dean and no more ideas of what to do, Sam did the only thing he could think of that would piss Dean off more than anything. He called Ruby. They hunted together for a while, and Sam expected that to raise his brother all on its own. When she explained what he would have to do to make his abilities grow, Sam knew that this was what was going to get Dean back. He threw himself into her teachings. Drinking demon blood and exorcising demons with his mind. He threw himself into addiction and when that still didn't work, he slept with the she-demon. Did the nasty with Dean's arch nemesis. Nothing worked. Not even the nasty. Sam fell back into despondency and depression. There was only one thing left for him to do. He got onto his knees and prayed. He prayed and prayed and prayed. Dean had always been strangely pissed that Sam still believed in God and angels. Sam hoped that either God would raise his brother or that Sam's new habit of prayer would bring Dean back in ethereal glory.
Two days later, after doing to nasty once again with she-demon, Sam heard a knock on his door and heard Ruby talking to the pizza guy. He stepped out of the bathroom and saw his brother. His first instinct was to scream with joy, and his second was to cry with shame. He had raised his brother but was he a ghost? Nope he was solid. Was he evil? Nope he was all-good. Nothing Sam had done had raised his brother but Dean was back and now Sam had to pray that Dean never found out about what Sam had done to try to get his brother back.