Prologue

It had been four months. Four months since Dean was dragged down to hell. Four months since he lost the love of his life. Four months of his own personal hell, feeling like half of him was forcibly ripped away. Which, it kind of was. He couldn't eat, couldn't sleep. He barely knew what to do with himself.

Ruby was continuously coming around to bother him, push him, trying to get him to start using his powers, learning to control them. But he didn't want to.

He had promised Dean he wouldn't. And plus, he just couldn't. Not unless they could help him bring Dean back. Which Ruby had stated was highly unlikely.

"I mean, I'm not exactly sure, Sam. You might be able to, at some point. But it could take years for you to get to that. I just don't know, Sam." She had said.

She had also tried making a move on him a couple of times. He felt disgusted that someone, something, that came directly from the depths of hell could be attracted to him. Everytime she tried, he would push her away and turn her down coldly, not even caring to be gentle with her.

Each time she had backed off a bit, almost shamefully. But last time she tried….

Sam squeezed his eyes shut and swallowed down another gulp from the bottle of whiskey he was holding, trying to push the memory back as far as he could, but he wasn't able to stop the flickers of shame, guilt, and regret that sparked to life inside him.

And then there was other emotions joining those. Darker. Deeper. Feelings he wouldn't admit to a single soul of ever having, as long as he had any say in it.

The long dark tendrils of desire tried to wrap themselves around his mind, warming his skin and make him suck in a sharp breath and shake his head, trying to clear away the strong images popping into his mind.

But now he could no longer hold back the memory and it surfaced to his mind, taking hold of him and becoming all of his focus. He closed his eyes and let the emotions, good and bad, sink into him as the scene played out.

He had been drinking again. A lot. These days, he was always in a general drunken state, not exactly caring much for full sobriety.

But on some days, when the pain got real bad, and no matter what he did, he just couldn't push it away, that's when he crawled deep into the bottom of the bottle and kept himself there for the next couple of days until the pain had finally dulled again.

Usually when he was in this state of mind, Ruby would leave him alone until he was back to normal. Well, what had become his new normal ever since that day.

But this time, she didn't. This time, when he was basically chugging down bottle after bottle, wanting nothing more than for the pain to just stop... That's when she came.

She came sauntering into the abandoned house he had made into his own little moldy, creaky home, that whole air around her, just the way she moved and looked at everything, it all just screamed, "look at me, look at me".

He didn't even bother saying hello to her, didn't even care to acknowledging her presence, always at the corner of his eye like a sly fox, always just shy of his vision, as if she were getting ready to pounce on her prey. If only he'd known just how accurate that metaphor was then.

"You know, you could actually try talking to me about things sometimes." She said, finally deciding she had had enough of the silence.

He almost laughed. "And what exactly would I talk to you about? Like you'd understand any of it anyways." He told her, taking another long drag from the bottle, draining it.

She sounded almost offended when she spoke next, sitting in front of him on the table, her face angled towards him, the rest of her angled to the side. "I used to be human once, and I still remember what it feels like to lose someone."

This time, he did laugh. "Okay, and so what? I'm just gonna talk about how shitty I feel and then we'll hug it out? Hey, and maybe after that, we'll lay in bed, make out a bit. Bet you'd like that, right? I mean, isn't it the only reason you're here? You're the definition of desperate, you know that, right?"

She crossed her arms over her chest and jutted her chin out defensively. "Why are you even so against it? It's not that big of a deal, Sam. It's just s-"

Sam cuts her off. "Really? Not that big of a deal? No, it is a majorly big deal, Ruby. In so many ways." He gets up and walks off to the room he'd been using to sleep in, sitting on the bed with a long sigh, blinking his eyes rapidly.

Not to his surprise, Ruby followed him. "What? Is it because of Dean? It's because you still think about him. In that way. I'm not stupid, Sam. I can see it plain as day. And I've heard you, we both know that much."

He looks up at her, annoyed and tired. "Okay, so if you know that, then why do you keep trying to get into my fucking pants?"

She kneels down beside him, putting herself way closer to him than necessary. "Because I know you still need it, Sam. I know you need something to put all that frustration into." She pushed herself closer to him, making just about every part of herself press against him.

The heat coming from her body tugged at something deep inside him that hadn't shown itself for months. His face contorted as if he was in pain as he tried to push the feeling away, but not having enough strength to push it, or her, back.

The tone in her voice dropped, became low and sultry as she continued to speak. "Sam... I can be him, if you want me to be. I can be Dean. Pretend I'm Dean, Sam. Pretend I'm Dean."

Sam groaned, pent up anger and frustration mixing with his sorrow and longing, creating a strange, dark pit of desire that rises within him as he grabs her by the hair and pulls her into a heady kiss, giving in.

She moaned into him and kissed back, pushing herself against him more. He pulled her into his lap and then pulled back from her lips, moving down her scorching throat, his eyes squeezed shut tightly as he did what she had told him to do. Pretend she was Dean.

He just kept saying it over and over, a mantra of "dean, dean, dean" in between each kiss and bite he pressed to her neck. Soon enough he didn't even have to say it. All he could think was Dean and suddenly it became real. Suddenly it wasn't Ruby grinding and writhing against him, it was him. His Dean.

He pressed his Dean down into the mattress and crawled on top of him, watching as he bit his lip. Sam was almost sick with relief. He knew he was delusional, he knew it wasn't really, truly Dean. But he didn't care. Even if just for a little while, he could have everything be okay.

"Missed you so much. So much. Can't stand it without you. So glad you're hear. Gonna show you how much I missed you, baby. How grateful I am to have you here in my arms again." The words tumbled from his mouth, flowing along his tongue like water.

He kissed Dean and he kissed him long, and slow, and passionate, and held onto him for dear life, not wanting the moment to end, real or not. He grinded down slowly on him, pressing every part of his body against Dean's. Dean moaned, arched up into him, and Sam almost sobbed.

He undressed Dean slowly, never taking his eyes off of him. Then Sam allowed Dean to strip him in return, watching as Dean drank him in.

Sam pushed Dean back down to the bed and pressed their bodies together, whimpering at the contact he had for so long needed and longed for. Ached for. But only for Dean. No one else, only Dean.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, all the warning signals were going off, but he ignored them. He was going to enjoy this moment of delusional bliss and he wouldn't let anything get in the way of it. He needed this. He needed Dean.

Sam took his sweet, precious time, kissing every inch of Dean's skin that he could. Doing it until Dean was moving and quivering beneath him, making such wonderful sounds. Sam's eyes lit up the way they only did whenever Dean was around.

By the time he entered into the tight heat of his big brother, Sam had long forgotten any thoughts of Ruby. As far as Sam knew, this was his Dean, and no one else, and Sam was making sweet, sweet love to him.

He continuously rocked into Dean until they were both moaning and panting, lost in each other, and it was just like before. Just like before Dean went to hell. Before Sam lost the only truly real thing in his life.

As Sam's thoughts started to go south, the fog in his mind started drifting away, and as he looked down at his love, Dean's face started to change. Hair grew longer, darker, thicker. Dark, forest green eyes became full black. His delusion started fading. He tried to hold onto it, but it was slipping out of his grasp too fast, and now it was just gone.

Now he just stared down at a girl, a demon, and she was looking up at Sam expectantly, waiting, panting and breathless and obviously annoyed that Sam had stopped.

He couldn't do it. His head was clearer now. He needed to get off of her, get away from her and never look back. And so that's what he did. He quickly pushed away from her and pulled out, finding his clothes and throwing them on, grabbing his keys and walking out the door before she had even been able to register what had happened.

That was two weeks ago. He had not seen or heard from her since. He was glad for it. He couldn't face her right now. He doesn't want to. And god... he had cheated on Dean. With a demon, of all possibilities. He hated himself for it. It doesn't matter if Dean was in Hell. Sam would be damned before he allowed someone to convince him that it really wasn't cheating.

Suddenly, his phone rang. He was surprised. It was pretty early, and the only person that had this number is Bobby, who doesn't call this early in the morning, usually. So he decided to actually pick up the phone and answer.

Bobby's gruff voice picked up, sounding both giddy and tired, a strange combination. He began to talk immediately.

"I've found him, Sam. He's here. He's alive. Dean is alive."