Chapter Four

Sam stood by the wall, watching as Dean began to stir in the devil's trap. Sam had dragged him to the warehouse and trapped him in a devil's trap.

"Oh, man," Dean muttered as his eyes opened. "You sure can pack a punch, Sammy."

"It's Sam," Sam growled at him. "Only he gets to call me that."

"But I am him," Dean smiled.

"No, you aren't."

"But he's still here…locked inside…living the nightmares he had in hell." Dean closed his eyes and sighed. "It's just too sweet."

"Let him go," said Sam.

"Or, what?" asked Dean. "You'll kill me? I don't think the angels will waste any more time bringing Dean back again."

"Who said anything about killing you?" said Sam.

Dean's smirk twitched at the corner of his mouth. "Go ahead. Give it your best shot. I've got a binding link protecting me."

Sam smiled. "That may work in the minor leagues…but not with me."

Sam raised his hand towards Dean, his fingers stretching out to him. Dean's body froze as his torso convulsed. He opened his mouth, and black smoke slowly inched its way past his lips. Sam struggled and struggled, but he watched in dismay as the smoke zipped back into Dean. Sam lowered his hand, his eyes widening in shock, as Dean smiled.

"You were saying?" said Dean. He laughed. "What's the matter? Can't get it up?"

Sam walked over and punched him. "I'll be back soon. Don't even think about trying to escape."

Sam closed the warehouse door as he left. He walked down the street toward a diner called "Rickie's." He entered and sat down at the counter.