Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural. If I did, the world would know about it.

Warning: Language. Not like the "F" word, but still language.

I kind of decided to set it about mid-season 5.

Wind whipped across the ruined courtyard, screaming as it went. A lone figure's shadow whispered across the broken cobbles, and it was obvious that the hulking figure was attempting to be stealthy. The lurker had not gone unnoticed. A pair of reflective eyes, black as polished obsidian, blinked once with a barely audible snick as they gave way to wide emerald, following the stranger's every move.

"Sammy."

A hoarse voice cut through the white noise that was the wind. The stranger stopped by the corner of the courtyard, hand descending steadily to a knife concealed in his clothes. "Dean?" he called warily. "Is that you?" Sam watched as Dean staggered slowly out of the shadows, clutching multiple stab wounds to his stomach, and his leather jacket was saturated with blood. "Oh, shit, Dean."

"Sammy," Dean repeated breathlessly, "you came for me."

"Of course," Sam replied, sheathing the silver blade and running to his wounded brother. "You…you're hurt." He took the older hunter into his arms, lowering him to the ground slowly, gently. "What happened?"

"There was only one of those sons of bitches there. I'd gotten him trapped—" Dean gestured weakly to a scratched-out Devil's Trap that was etched in chalk in the cobbles, "but then others came. At least twenty."

"Oh, Dean," Sam breathed. "Why'd you have to go and be such an idiot?"

The corners of Dean's lips twitched upward in the faint echo of a smirk. "It's what I do best, isn't it, Sammy?" he whispered. Then his smirk widened almost imperceptibly. "Do you want to know what happened next? Do you, Sam?"

Sam's hazel eyes narrowed, and though he still tried to bandage his brother's wounds the best he could, his hands moved more slowly, almost suspiciously. "What happened, Dean?"

Dean closed his eyes, a faint smile on his lips. "I kept on stabbing and shooting 'em. And they stabbed me back. Oh, they were merciless, they were. I could feel myself dying. But you know what, Sammy?" Dean smiled widely at his younger brother, showing teeth that were stained with his own blood. "They helped me. They gave me the greatest gift of all."

"And what's that?" Sam hissed through his teeth, his hand once again moving to the demon-killing knife. "What did they give to you?

"A wonderful gift, Sammy," Dean breathed back, opening his eyes once again.

Snick.

Dean- or what was left of him- leaped out of Sam's arms, throwing a quick but powerful punch to his brother's left eye. His black eyes gleamed. "They gave me power. They gave me eternity. They gave me a lifetime with my new bunkmate. His name is Dean. Maybe you know him?" he snarled mockingly, dodging a powerful blow from Sam's massive fists. "Now, now, Sammy, don't make a fuss. You don't need to point that knife at me. You wouldn't kill your own brother, would you?" The thing inside Dean let his own black eyes turn back to the hunter's green momentarily before taking control again.

"Try me," Sam spat, and he suddenly lunged at the monster that was his older brother. For a moment, Dean's face looked truly scared. Then he growled, almost inhumanly. He braced himself for Sam's attack and intercepted the larger man's swinging knife arm, twisting it with superhuman strength. Sam groaned in pain as his arm snapped. The knife dropped to the ground, forgotten in the heat of the fight. Sam gathered his strenth and threw another punch, this time catching Dean in the side of his jaw. Dean fell to the ground, grunting in surprise as Sam lunged to kneel across his chest, the knife recovered in his left hand and held high above his head.

Dean clawed wildly at the cage that the demon had created in his head. He could see out of his body's eyes, could watch as the demon beat up his baby brother. "Let me out, you demon dick!" he roared for the thousandth time. Suddenly, he remembered something that might've come in handy a while ago. He reached into the back pocket of his jeans, pulling out a worn, small book. The cover was written in Latin.

Dean flipped wildly through the pages, finding the one that he needed. And he started to chant.

Sam glared down at Dean's body, still struggling beneath him, and inhabited by the demon. He raised the knife higher above his head, poising it so that when he brought the blade down, it would land straight in Dean's heart. "I'm so sorry, De," he whispered, a single tear running down from his unswollen eye, "but I gotta do this. It's the only way I can save you."

And the blade flashed downward.

"NO!" Dean roared, finishing the ritual. He felt the demon leave, and suddenly he was back in control of his weakened body, wincing internally at the burning pain coming from his torn up torso. He saw Sam bringing the knife down and grabbed it even as the demon's black essence flooded out of his mouth.

"No, Sammy," he whispered hoarsely, blood dripping out of his lips. "I'm back. I'm here for you."

"Dean?" Sam gasped, grabbing his trembling brother. "Are you okay?"

Dean smirked internally, letting his lips twitch on the outside. "Do I look okay?" he rasped.

Sam tried his best to chuckle, and Dean's already impaired heart lurched with sympathy, broken inside from seeing his baby brother cry. "Ah, Dean," Sam sniffed, "you can't leave me now. We were just starting to be brothers again." Tears were running freely down his face now, and Dean twitched as they landed on his face.

"Hey." Dean reached up and punched Sam weakly on the shoulder. "No chick flick moments."

"Yeah, Dean." Sam sniffed. "C'mon, I gotta take care of you, De."

"There's no time."

"Dean!"

"Sammy." Dean could already feel himself slipping away, but he tried his best to gasp out the words he wanted to say. "You can't save me. But you gotta promise not to bring me back. I've done my time. I'll be waiting for you up there, and I'm sure Cas'll help with that. And Sammy?"

"Yeah, Dean?"

"Kick Lucifer's ass for me."

And then Dean let himself slip away.

Castiel was waiting, and he took Dean's hand. "It's time," the angel said solemnly.

"I know." Dean's soul got up, leaving Sam, who was sobbing over his body.. "Hang on a second," he called to Cas. Dean turned to his brother.

"I'll be waiting, Sammy, he whispered. "Bitch."

And Sam heard angel wings taking flight, carrying his brother to heaven.

"Jerk."

So that was my first story! Please R&R!