Sam reacted quickly. While Dean was talking, he'd been trying to get to the the impala. The second he saw Dean's eyes, Sam dove for the flask in the passenger seat and threw some of his own holy water in Dean's face. It steamed and sizzled as Dean stumbled back in pain. Sam pulled the knife out of his boot and held it in defense as Dean recovered.

"Gah, that burns! What the hell, Sam?"

"You're not Dean," he said through clenched teeth, "so who are you?"

Dean recovered from the water and stepped back upon seeing the knife, hands protectively in front of him, "woah okay, let's not do anything crazy."

"You've got a lot of nerve tracking me down, looking like that. Why shouldn't I just kill you now?"

"Sam, come on. It really is me."

Sam gave a warning wave of the knife, "No! Dean's dead, and he's not coming back."

Some amount of guilt and sadness emerged in Dean's eyes. "I told you the truth. I'm no happier about it than you, but I'm back. Please. I crawled out of hell to come see you again. Give me a break here."

Sam really wanted to believe him, but his whole being was telling him not to. It sounded like Dean. Acted like him. But it just couldn't be.

"You know I'm telling the truth. You of all people. And hey, I'm not your first friendly demon, right?"

"Ruby tried to trick me into starting the apocalypse, so I killed her. In my experience, demons aren't exactly trustworthy."

"Well then. Told you she was trouble."

Sam took a cautionary step forward. "Why should I believe you?"

"You're alive because of me! I sold my soul to save you, Sam! Apparently, this," he gestured to himself, eyes again flashing black, "is what happens when you sell your soul."

Sam lowered the knife a bit, still refusing to let down his guard entirely. Dean, a demon. He'd come across some demon lore that matched what he'd said, that demons were made from people in hell. It was just hard to believe that it could happen to Dean. "Alright," he said warily.

"Great. Now can you please drop the knife?" Sam stashed the knife back in his boot and Dean settled into his usual demeanor. "Thank you."

"But I don't get it, why didn't the holy water burn you before?"

"Just water. I needed you to trust me so I could talk to you first."

Sam nodded, staring at the ground and trying to wrap his mind around the whole situation. "And why do you still... look like you?"

"Well I wasn't just going to hop into someone off the street, I've seen what that does to a person. Took me a while to find my body. A little macabre when I did, but a little elbow grease and I'm good as new. I couldn't just give this up. I mean look at me," he spread out his arms with a smug smile, "I'm gorgeous."

Sam shook his head with a small smile at how little Dean had changed. "Yeah, you're Dean, alright." He finally gave up his defensive stance.

Dean walked over to lean on the hood of the car. "And sorry for going a little overkill," he gave a small chuckle, "you're kind of the first person I've talked to for a while that didn't just want to gut me for fun."

Sam pulled two beers out of the trunk, handed one to Dean, and leaned on the car next to him like so many times before. Dean took the bottle and just looked at it fondly for a while before opening it and taking a sip. "So what've you been up to? Working on anything right now?"

Sam sighed and looked away for a bit before responding. "It's great to see you, Dean, it really is. It's great that you're here. But you know, you've been officially dead for seven years. I mean, any hunter sees you, they're not going to just let you go. They'll want the same tests: salt, silver, holy water, the works, and when you don't pass, they won't give you the benefit of the doubt. You go back out on the field, you're as good as dead. Again."

Dean took another sip, savoring it. "I know. Fooled you for a bit though, didn't I? I'll run the tests myself, like I did with you." he pulled his water flask and a salt container from his jacket. He poured some white granules that sure as hell looked like salt into his hand. "Regular water and sugar. No one needs to know, no one will be able to tell. Come on Sammy, I didn't spend twenty years climbing back up here just to hide out. I want to get back to work. We don't even meet that many hunters anyway."

"I guess. What about demons? The bad ones?"

"I picked up a few new tricks. And a new tattoo." He pulled his shirt collar to the side to reveal new black ink in place of the old, a possession lock. "Exorcisms won't be a problem. I've thought it all out. I can handle this. And hey, it can't hurt to have a good demon on the team for once."

Sam slowly shook his head, "I don't know, it just doesn't feel right."

"Hey, I'm not expecting you to completely trust me. I'm not stupid. I'm just saying, we could try it out. See if I can earn that trust back. Go on a few hunts, for old time's sake."

Sam thought about this for a bit. There would definitely be obstacles, but Dean did put up a good argument. "Sure," he said finally, "for old time's sake." He lifted his bottle to Dean, who immediately tapped it with his own. They both drank and in that moment, it was as if everything was back to normal.