Dean stared at the phone in his hand, thumb hovering over the call button. What did it matter? Sam was soulless and Lisa wasn't even speaking to him. He put the phone back into his pocket and shrugged. After all, he was Dean Winchester. He caught the case. He did the research. He found the house. He can take a nest of vamps by himself.

He got out of the Impala and went around and opened the trunk. You can do this, Winchester. He sighed and grabbed a machete and a syringe with dead man's blood. He looked over at the old barn as he shut the lid of the trunk. Typical, he thought as he made his way over to the door. It was slightly open and he peeked inside. The wooden floor was covered in hay and dirt and dust. It was completely dark. Creepy. He turned and continued around the outside of the large red structure. There wasn't any movement outside, and from what he could see there wasn't any inside either. He made his way back to the front door and opened it slowly. Still nothing.

Dean pulled his phone out of his pocket. He stood for a moment then went to put it back when something hit his hand and the phone went flying. Dean turned and saw the silhouette of a man. He swung the machete out and missed. The vamp grabbed Dean's left arm and twisted it behind his back. "Dammit!" he seethed. He elbowed the vamp with his free arm and turned around. He sent a clean slice through the neck. He kicked the headless body.

"Bitch."

Suddenly, Dean felt something hit the back of his head. Everything went black.

"Come on, Dean. You gotta pull through."

Dean could hear someone calling his name, but it sounded hazy and very far away. He was very tired. So tired. He let the black consume him again.

"Dean... Dean? Dean!"

He could feel the darkness pulling itself away, and light began to stream through his eyelids. Consciousness overtook him and he opened his eyes slowly. He tried to say something, but his throat was too sore. Too bright, he thought. All he could see was white. Bright white that was very irritating.

"Dean?"

Wait... Sam?

Dean tried to sit up, but was restrained by the giant tube in his mouth and the brace around his neck.

"Gnrrgh."

"Dean! Calm down, dude."

"GRGHNNNR!"

The machine beside his bed quickened it's pace, and Dean became aware of it. He also noticed the sharp scent of cleaners and... was it flowers? The white was soon replaced with shapes that floated around him frantically. Dammit, Winchester. A hospital?

Dean tried to relax. He closed his eyes again and breathed evenly. The fast beeping soon returned to a more regular pace. Dean opened his eyes again. This time, he could make out the blurry figure that was his brother's body. Dean pointed weakly at the tube in his mouth. Sam called a doctor over to remove it, but by the time he finally did, Dean fell asleep.

Three days had passed and Sam hadn't left Dean's side once. The first time Dean sat up, Sam hugged him. He was on his phone a lot too, and would always leave the room to answer any calls. Dean's voice was still pretty raspy from the tube, but every chance he got he asked Sam why he was in the hospital. And each time Sam would respond with

"We'll talk about it when you're back to your old self."

Apparently 'Back-to-your-old-self' meant being able to walk and take a piss on your own.

Dean was suspicious, of course. If Sam didn't have his soul, then why did he care so much? He concluded that Soulless Sammy was just a really, really, good actor. He wanted to know how he found him, and if he ganked the rest of the nest. He also wanted to ask about how Bobby was doing. Also, how long was he out? All these questions he had to ask weren't getting answered. Until today.

Dean walked out of the bathroom triumphantly, albeit a little light-headed, and nodded his head at Sam.

"I'm ready t'leave when you are," he said, smiling.

Sam gave him a wary look. "Are you sure you're ok to-"

"Do you wanna go look in that pot yourself? Not only is it humiliating that I haven't been able t'go by myself the past few days, but now you're doubting my ability to function."

Sam sighed and walked out of the room to find a nurse and a wheelchair.

"You are NOT driving."

"It's my car."

"You just woke up from a COMA, Dean!"

"Three days ago."

Sam wheeled the wheelchair over to the passenger side door. "Get in."

Dean huffed and did as he was told. Sam took the wheelchair back into the hospital and returned a minute later. As soon as he stepped in, Dean bombarded him with questions.

"Where are we?"

"Lawrence," Sam said as he pulled out of the parking lot.

"How's Bobby?"

"Bobby's good, and so is everyone else."

"Did you gank the bastards?"

Sam hit the brakes. "Wait... do you remember?"

"Kind of. I mean, I remember a nest of vamps down in Arkansas, but it all went black after that."

"Dean, when I found you, you weren't hunting vamps in Arkansas."

"Then what the hell was I doing?"

"You were hunting werewolves in Missouri, right across the border."

Dean shook his head. "No, I remember. Because you were God only knows where, and I couldn't go back to Lisa...where is Lisa?"

"Who's Lisa?" Sam asked.

"The woman I've been living with for the past year?"

Sam laughed nervously. "Dean, you don't know anyone named Lisa."

"Sure I do. Dark hair, attractive. Son named Ben. And what's with you and this whole 'brother' act? I thought we agreed to cut that until you got your soul back."

"M-my soul?" Sam was dumbfounded. "I can promise you that my soul is still well intact. So why does that not give me a right to care about my brother?"

Dean's head hurt. All the things he knew, Sam was saying weren't true. But they had to be true. Weren't they?

"Look, Sam. None of this is making sense to me. You haven't even told me how much I've missed!" Sam cleared his throat.

Dean eyed him suspiciously. "How long was I out Sam?"

Sam muttered something quietly. "Sam!" Dean shouted.

"Eight months," Sam said.

"Eight months," Dean repeated, more to himself than Sam. The car was quiet for a while.

"How's Bobby holding up?" Dean asked.

"Bobby's doing great. We're gonna meet him and everyone else in Nebraska. I gotta tell you, man, we all just-"

"Wait, wait, wait. We?" Dean asked.

"Yeah. Me, Bobby, Ellen, and Jo."

"Ellen and Jo? They're alive?!"

Sam looked really confused now, and a little worried. "Dean, I think I better take you back to the hospital..."

"No no, I'm just catching up. So they never died?"

"Uh, no."

"O...kay. That's good." He sat up a little straighter in his seat. He groaned as he saw his reflection in the rearview mirror. "I look like Death's bitch."

Sam laughed. "I don't think anybody's going to care. Hey, I almost forgot. Your stuff is in the glove compartment."

Dean opened it and pulled a plastic bag out with his name on it in sharpie. He pulled out his watch, and then the amulet. "I didn't think I still had this," he said.

"Yeah. They gave me all your crap when I brought you in. It's been sitting here for months."

There was still something in the bag. He shook it over the palm of his hand, and a gold wedding band fell out.

"Uh, Sam, I think they gave you one too many things."

"What are you talking about?"

"This?" Dean said as he held up the ring.

"Wow, you really were beat bad. Dean, that's yours. You're married." Sam said.

"Ww...wh-what?" He felt his heartbeat jump and start pounding. "To who?"

Sam looked at him like he grew another head. "To Jo. Man, what's wrong with your head?"